One more round of the single gal posts. And then something different, I promise. But I can't say how good it has felt to vent and to be completely honest about what it is like to be single.
I think lots of people don't quite know what to do with that one single friend of theirs. They want to be a good friend, of course, but they don't want to say something offensive or hurtful. So here are a few questions that I've answered in the past. Again, as always, these are my opinions.
1. Do you want to talk about it?
Sometimes yes and sometimes no. But I will tell you if I do or I don't. Mostly, I am pretty open about discussing how I feel about being single. And it does help when people ask me. It's so much kinder than assuming those dangerous things...that I'm too picky or that I've given up. The truth for all people is that we want to talk about our pain, and we want to talk about our triumphs. A good friend goes out of his or her way to truly ask someone about the things they are struggling with, just as a good friend celebrates with you when you succeed.
The other day I ran into a friend who has had cancer for about five years now. She's been through all sorts of treatments. She's strong and certainly a survivor. She looked really great, and she was smiling and cheerful and she hugged me when she saw me. But I asked her about her health because I wanted her to know two things: a. I am aware of her condition and I care about it and b. I want to listen and hear about her feelings because I know she's been given a very difficult trial. This is because I genuinely care about her. I know when people genuinely care about me and really want to listen. It feels good to know people who love you and want to listen and be supportive.
2. Do you want to hang out with married people?
I've learned that friendship is based on so much more than just being married or single. As a member of the LDS church, I find that many married people are not sure what to do with the single people they know, and so I've heard many of my single friends tell stories about feeling shunned by the married folks at church. This seems strange to me, but my sister-in-law once said that she worried that single people wouldn't want to hear all the kid talk that tends to go on in married circles. Fair enough. But I then pointed out to her that friendships are based on more than just whether you are married and whether you have children. Most friendships develop because of common interests and hobbies.
You see, I've lived in all types of circles. When I worked at Annandale High School, my closest friends at work were very different from me. None of them were LDS. One of them was agnostic. One of them was Catholic. Two of them were Methodist. Three of them were married. Some were right around my age, but some were much older. One of them was gay. In law school, my closest friends and study partners were all married. One even had children. One was an agnostic Jew. You get the idea. I learned that making friends can be so much more than being from the same faith, or being the same age, or having the same world view, even. If I were narrow minded about making friends based on marital status, or religion, or age, I would have been missing out on rich, life affirming relationships with very good people.
Besides, when married people get together with friends, are all of their conversations about children? I would venture to say no. We all like to talk about lots of different things. And besides, I taught teenagers. I actually have some pretty good insights into teenagers and their behavior. I might even have some advice for you about your teenager. I did work closely with hundreds of them over the six years that I taught. I know I'm not a mom, but I'm not clueless when it comes to children. I like them, and I am not bored by mommy talk.
3. Do you want dating advice?
Yes. If you have something constructive and helpful to say, tell me. Please do not try to veil criticism as advice, however. I know the difference. Hearing things like, "Well, if you changed your hair, clothing, make-up, went on a diet...." All these things are criticisms. They are not constructive. Actually those sorts of criticisms can be destructive to self-esteem, which can be a problem among single folks. I know I tend to be more self-conscious about my flaws because I worry that they may be getting in the way of getting into a relationship, be that true or not.
And anyway, all sorts of people of all sorts of shapes, sizes and colors get married. Several friends have said to me, "I just don't get it. You're so pretty and nice. Why don't you date?" I love that...it helps remind me that I am normal. However, my response is always the same. "Strange people get married. As do tall and short and fat and skinny and cute and unattractive people." So, telling me you don't like my hair isn't going to help me because I can guarantee you that there will be someone, some guy out there, who will like my hair.
Constructive advice includes where to meet people or how to talk to the opposite sex if you happen to be shy. Perhaps you really liked it when your then future spouse had the courage to smile at you from across the room or how they laughed at your jokes and touched your arm. In other words, advice on how to interact with others is helpful.
But the best route isn't advice at all. Rather, it is encouragement. Things like, "You know how to talk to people and make them feel comfortable." Or, "You have such a nice smile. People are drawn to your smile." I think compliments go along way to boost courage and self-esteem.
I'll end this post with such an example of encouragement. I grew up in a small farming community near Spanish Fork, Utah, and that is where I am living now. While at church a few weeks ago, I ran into an old friend who happened to be visiting family. He said some very kind things to me. First, he assured me that although some may find it strange that I am thirty-something and single, I am normal and that there is nothing wrong with me. In fact, in most circles my singleness is no big deal. He then told me that I have so much to offer and that I do not need to settle for less than what I deserve.
You have no idea what his kind words did for me. I think I stood a little taller and smiled a little broader that day because I felt good about myself. After all, that is probably just what we all want...kind words of encouragement.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Sunday, October 30, 2011
A Day in the Life...
Of a Single Girl.
Most days do normal things like laundry and working out and eating dinner. Surprised? But...
The truth is that I doubt a day goes by that I am not, in some fashion, aware of my single state. I wish I could say otherwise. But that is the truth. I cannot speak for my friends who are also single, as I don't know what they think daily about being single. All I know is how it is for me. And it is hard not to be aware of being single in a world where most adults are married or at least with someone.
Sigh, BUT, that doesn't mean that I'm sad every day or even most days. Most days I wake up with things to do, and I do them. When I had a job, I had work to fill my hours up, and like most people, I focused on that for the majority of the day. When I was in school, I thought about reading, tests, outlines, studying, writing and more studying and reading. And in law school, I rarely had time to focus on much more than that, at least during the week. Then there are all the little chores and errands, you know. Groceries, laundry, cleaning, cooking, sorting through bills, exercising...just the usual stuff that has to be done to live. There are friends and family to call or email. A little t.v. or a book or two. Lunch with colleagues and maybe a date here and a date there.
In other words, my life is normal. My life is like anyone's life, really.
Oh, except then there are the bad days. It's hard to describe to someone who hasn't ever felt that sort of empty feeling take hold. Moments where it all washes over me, what loneliness it is to go through the world without a partner to help me shoulder the burden. It's a weight crushing my chest and sucking the breath from my lungs and pushing against my heart so hard that I worry it might burst. It's not knowing when, if ever in this life, it will end.
That may seem dramatic to you. Perhaps it is, but perhaps, on second thought, it is not. Imagine spending fourteen years without a serious relationship. Imagine dating some here, and some there, but never to a point where it goes somewhere even beyond a month or two. Imagine averaging two to three dates a year for the past four or five years. You get the idea.
And I feel I must explain something, here. It isn't that I despair. I have despaired in the past, and I can be honest about that. I've learned not to allow that feeling of despair, which is really just self-pity in disguise, take hold of me. It's taken me a lot of time to learn that pity is not natural, necessarily, although people will tell you it is. No, pity is the enemy, and I avoid it at all costs.
Mostly, I'm filled with immense gratitude for so many good things that have come my way. My life is full of blessings. And anyway, a wise man counseled recently to beware the "golden ticket." You know, waiting for that perfect person, house, job, car, dress. You wait and wait and wait and you refuse to be happy until you get that golden ticket item. Only that item will bring you fulfillment.
The truth is, I know that a husband can't make me happy. I know that having children can't make me happy. I am in control of my happiness, and it is certainly most unwise to place all responsibility for my joy on someone or something that is out of my control. In fact, it is probably unfair to do so, especially when that includes placing your future happiness in the hands of another person. The moment they do anything to disappoint you, you will be upset. We humans, we are full of lots of good things, but we are also prone to making mistakes. I've made my fair share of them, and I've let people down, so I would know how ill advised it is to let someone else be the keeper of your joy.
No, I'm well aware that my happiness cannot be dependent upon finding a boyfriend and getting married.
But that does not change what loneliness feels like, either, now does it? And that is what sucks the breath from my lungs and sits down upon my heart and vexes me to no end. And unless you have experienced a sort of loneliness that lingers on over years, it is difficult to explain how you can be very happy in your life and yet have days where you cry. A lot. The only thing I know to compare it to is loss. You feel a sense of ongoing loss, and I think most of us can relate to what that feels like.
Most days do normal things like laundry and working out and eating dinner. Surprised? But...
The truth is that I doubt a day goes by that I am not, in some fashion, aware of my single state. I wish I could say otherwise. But that is the truth. I cannot speak for my friends who are also single, as I don't know what they think daily about being single. All I know is how it is for me. And it is hard not to be aware of being single in a world where most adults are married or at least with someone.
Sigh, BUT, that doesn't mean that I'm sad every day or even most days. Most days I wake up with things to do, and I do them. When I had a job, I had work to fill my hours up, and like most people, I focused on that for the majority of the day. When I was in school, I thought about reading, tests, outlines, studying, writing and more studying and reading. And in law school, I rarely had time to focus on much more than that, at least during the week. Then there are all the little chores and errands, you know. Groceries, laundry, cleaning, cooking, sorting through bills, exercising...just the usual stuff that has to be done to live. There are friends and family to call or email. A little t.v. or a book or two. Lunch with colleagues and maybe a date here and a date there.
In other words, my life is normal. My life is like anyone's life, really.
Oh, except then there are the bad days. It's hard to describe to someone who hasn't ever felt that sort of empty feeling take hold. Moments where it all washes over me, what loneliness it is to go through the world without a partner to help me shoulder the burden. It's a weight crushing my chest and sucking the breath from my lungs and pushing against my heart so hard that I worry it might burst. It's not knowing when, if ever in this life, it will end.
That may seem dramatic to you. Perhaps it is, but perhaps, on second thought, it is not. Imagine spending fourteen years without a serious relationship. Imagine dating some here, and some there, but never to a point where it goes somewhere even beyond a month or two. Imagine averaging two to three dates a year for the past four or five years. You get the idea.
And I feel I must explain something, here. It isn't that I despair. I have despaired in the past, and I can be honest about that. I've learned not to allow that feeling of despair, which is really just self-pity in disguise, take hold of me. It's taken me a lot of time to learn that pity is not natural, necessarily, although people will tell you it is. No, pity is the enemy, and I avoid it at all costs.
Mostly, I'm filled with immense gratitude for so many good things that have come my way. My life is full of blessings. And anyway, a wise man counseled recently to beware the "golden ticket." You know, waiting for that perfect person, house, job, car, dress. You wait and wait and wait and you refuse to be happy until you get that golden ticket item. Only that item will bring you fulfillment.
The truth is, I know that a husband can't make me happy. I know that having children can't make me happy. I am in control of my happiness, and it is certainly most unwise to place all responsibility for my joy on someone or something that is out of my control. In fact, it is probably unfair to do so, especially when that includes placing your future happiness in the hands of another person. The moment they do anything to disappoint you, you will be upset. We humans, we are full of lots of good things, but we are also prone to making mistakes. I've made my fair share of them, and I've let people down, so I would know how ill advised it is to let someone else be the keeper of your joy.
No, I'm well aware that my happiness cannot be dependent upon finding a boyfriend and getting married.
But that does not change what loneliness feels like, either, now does it? And that is what sucks the breath from my lungs and sits down upon my heart and vexes me to no end. And unless you have experienced a sort of loneliness that lingers on over years, it is difficult to explain how you can be very happy in your life and yet have days where you cry. A lot. The only thing I know to compare it to is loss. You feel a sense of ongoing loss, and I think most of us can relate to what that feels like.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Singleness...Some Misconceptions
This is a topic I've touched on while writing this blog, but it isn't one I've delved into yet. After reading Mara Kofoed's blog...the blog I posted about yesterday, I felt like it was time to give this post some real thought, and write, write, write about what it is to be single well into my thirties, especially in the LDS world.
My first post about singleness is about misconceptions, in particular misconceptions about single women in the LDS church.
I heard this once, from a very nice, but very misinformed, young man in my singles ward. There we were at a ward Thanksgiving dinner, and he turns to me, pointing out the women in the room, and said, "These women care more about their careers than they do about marriage." WHAT? Um, incorrect. Maybe...and I say MAYBE very loudly and with much emphasis...one or two women in that room cared more about their career aspirations than about getting married. So I corrected him. And there are several things I have to say about assumptions that others make (often those others are married, but sometimes not) about single women. Of course, this is what I have to say about it. However, keep in mind that I'm approaching my thirty-sixth birthday. I've attended singles wards for more than thirteen years, and I have many, many single girl friends. So while it is my opinion, it is much more. My feelings reflect those of many other women I know.
1. Our careers and/or education come first.
I am a lawyer. I attended law school at Seton Hall in Newark, New Jersey. I passed the Texas Bar and was admitted as an attorney in the state of Texas in November of 2010. Before that, I was an English teacher. I taught for six years, and I loved it. I was a good teacher, and I enjoyed working with teens. I'm proud of my professional accomplishments, and I proud of my educational accomplishments.
However, all of these things come in second...and, as I have often said, a poor second to marriage and motherhood. This is how my life went. My singleness can be chalked up to a myriad of things. Some of those things are of my own making. Some of them are just the circumstances of the time we live in. Just because I chose to make my life better and more fulfilling by getting and education or a professional job doesn't mean that those were my priorities over marriage. I would gladly give up some of these goals for marriage and children. Most women I know feel this way.
But women aren't just meant to be wives and mothers. We are complete and whole and we have aspirations for our lives that include education, jobs, and other goals. ALL of the wives and mothers I know have at least some of the following: degrees, jobs, businesses, hobbies, and goals. This is healthy. It does not mean that marriage and family isn't a first priority. It just means that life has several facets for both men and women, and we are fulfilled in many different ways.
2. We have "given up" on marriage.
Again, NOT true. Beyond the fact that saying something like that is hurtful, it simply is false.
Here's the thing, folks. Humans are driven to companionship. It's not just a religious construct, although I think marriage, and in my case temple marriage, brings a sanctity to that companionship. And I do not deny the importance of that sanctity. But the idea that anyone over the "ripe old age" of thirty has given up on marriage is ludicrous. You don't give up on it. Proof is in the pudding...people divorce or lose spouses to death in their forties, fifties, sixties, seventies...and they remarry. What does that tell you??? Most humans want to be with a partner.
So, no, I haven't given up on marriage. And by the way, I stand in good company. Sheri Dew said, in a talk she gave a few years ago, that she had not given up on marriage, either, and she's fifty-eight years old. I'm telling you, the single women you know have not given up on marriage. It's like saying I'm going to give up drinking water and eating food because, obviously, I cannot. They are instinctual. The desire for love and companionship is, too. So you don't just turn that off and give up.
3. We are picky.
This is a difficult and touchy subject. I am not picky. However, I also want to fall in love, and I want to find someone to respect that has the same values and interests I have. I'm not expecting perfect. I'm not perfect. And I don't have a "type." I have been attracted to a myriad of men. I've dated blondes, brunettes, red heads. I've dated tall, short, thin, chubby. I've dated different races. I've dated men who were younger and who were older. I've even dated men who weren't LDS.
Please know that this is what we hear when someone tells us we are being too picky: "Stop being so picky. You're getting old and you're losing your attractions, so you just have to take whatever comes along. Never mind that I got to marry someone when I was in my twenties that I absolutely love and adore. I deserve to have happiness. You deserve to settle."
Now you may not have thought about what we hear when that is said to us. It may not have occurred to you that this makes us feel like we are second-class citizens...people who don't deserve to be happy. But please recognize how this sounds to us when we hear it. We single ladies LONG to have joy and love and we want to experience the rush of endorphins that come when you first start crushing on someone. We want to be excited about the people we date and eventually marry. I'm not suggesting that love is a little crush or that the rush of endorphins you feel when you're first dating someone you're really attracted to continues on forever. Of course it doesn't. And of course that is not why you marry someone.
I am suggesting that we deserve the same joy that you experienced when you met your husband or wife. Maybe that didn't happen right away when you met your spouse. But chances are if you're married, you did have the opportunity to feel all the joy and excitement of meeting someone really wonderful. Someone who made you laugh. Someone you couldn't wait to talk to. Someone you wanted to be with!!! I just want the same. That does not make me any more picky than it makes you.
4. We are somehow "choosing" to be single.
This makes me laugh. I would never have chosen this. I think that I have my own responsibility to get out and meet people so that I can date, and I admit that at times I have not given it my all. And at times I have flat out hid from the prospect. But that isn't because I was making a choice to be single. I was depressed and frustrated with dating and the male/female singles scene. My choices have had an impact on my dating life, but I didn't ever EVER EVER think to myself that I wasn't going out as a conscious decision to remain single. NEVER did that cross my mind.
Besides, my choice, at times, to stay home, is not the reason for my singleness, anyway. Factor, perhaps. The sole reason, absolutely not. I know too many people who were doing little, if anything, to meet someone only to go out randomly to one activity and meet the love of their life. There are so many, many factors when it comes to love and dating and eventually marriage. I am working really hard on accepting my responsibility to get out of my comfort zone and meet people. I cannot make people ask me on dates, nor would I want to. I can be friendly, outgoing and kind. I can take good care of myself. I can laugh and smile and be a good friend. I can be myself, comfortable with who I am single or not. Please understand, though, that it isn't a choice to be single. It is so much more complicated than that.
5. We don't want to be set up on dates.
I do. Now here I am speaking entirely for me, although I do know many women who also like the idea of being set up by friends and family. Ask before you get any ideas, though. I do want to go out! I do want to date. Have I said that enough? I am open to almost all options. I've tried the online scene. It wasn't for me. I go to singles wards when I can. I continue to think that is an option. My friends and family know people. And I am happy to meet the people they know for lunch or dinner or hot chocolate or ice cream. I cannot say this enough: I do want to go out!
6. We are automatically assessing marriage potential the moment we get asked out.
I'll be honest. Women think about marriage. We do. But just because we go on a date, that does not mean we are thinking about the man as marriage potential. In fact, as I've gotten older, I think less about marriage and more about just having a good time or meeting a new friend. All the dates I've been on in the past few years were just that. I met the guy, we ate out, went to a movie, the opera, walked, talked, etc. The normal date stuff. But I didn't sit and assess marriage potential at all. I was just out to meet someone and see what happened next.
7. We think men are scum.
Oh how untrue, and dangerously so, this is. I've met my share of men that weren't good for me. I emphasize that these men weren't good for me, but they were a good match for someone else. And of course, I've met some that weren't kind or honest with me. Those boys were probably not good for anyone, at least at that time. HOWEVER...I do not believe that they represent the majority of the male population. I can name countless guys that I've dated whom I respect. These are men who treated me well. These are men who made me laugh. Many of them are now married and are good fathers and good husbands.
I have five brothers, two grandfathers, uncles, cousins and, most importantly, a loving and good father that I have so much respect for. These men are good husbands and fathers...some of the best that I know. I have many married friends whose husbands set an example for me that help me believe in the goodness of men in the world. They give me lots of reasons to believe that there are still many many good men out there.
So no, I do not believe that men are scum. I actually have quite a fondness for the male population. And I believe I will find a nice man to marry and have a family with.
These are some of the misconceptions I've encountered. I'm sure my single friends have encountered others. I wanted to share my own experiences because often what I have encountered is far from the truth. And often it has been unkind. I get asked "Why aren't you married?" often enough. Sometimes people mean well. They are shocked that I'm not married. I'm relatively normal, smart, pretty, funny, etc. I'm a good conversationalist, and I love people. I'm a real people person.
However, sometimes what people say is not meant in a spirit of kindness. Rather the intention is judgmental and nosy and full of blame. No one would think to blame an infertile couple for their lack of children. No one would think to ask a widow or widower what was wrong with them that they lost their spouse. And yet day after day, single people are judged for being single. I say all this because it is hurtful to hear those comments when we are just doing our best. Moreover, such comments are only a reminder of a painful reality of our day to day lives.
All of us can be kinder, me included. I share this in hopes that others will recognize ways they can be more aware of the feelings of the single people in their lives.
My first post about singleness is about misconceptions, in particular misconceptions about single women in the LDS church.
I heard this once, from a very nice, but very misinformed, young man in my singles ward. There we were at a ward Thanksgiving dinner, and he turns to me, pointing out the women in the room, and said, "These women care more about their careers than they do about marriage." WHAT? Um, incorrect. Maybe...and I say MAYBE very loudly and with much emphasis...one or two women in that room cared more about their career aspirations than about getting married. So I corrected him. And there are several things I have to say about assumptions that others make (often those others are married, but sometimes not) about single women. Of course, this is what I have to say about it. However, keep in mind that I'm approaching my thirty-sixth birthday. I've attended singles wards for more than thirteen years, and I have many, many single girl friends. So while it is my opinion, it is much more. My feelings reflect those of many other women I know.
1. Our careers and/or education come first.
I am a lawyer. I attended law school at Seton Hall in Newark, New Jersey. I passed the Texas Bar and was admitted as an attorney in the state of Texas in November of 2010. Before that, I was an English teacher. I taught for six years, and I loved it. I was a good teacher, and I enjoyed working with teens. I'm proud of my professional accomplishments, and I proud of my educational accomplishments.
However, all of these things come in second...and, as I have often said, a poor second to marriage and motherhood. This is how my life went. My singleness can be chalked up to a myriad of things. Some of those things are of my own making. Some of them are just the circumstances of the time we live in. Just because I chose to make my life better and more fulfilling by getting and education or a professional job doesn't mean that those were my priorities over marriage. I would gladly give up some of these goals for marriage and children. Most women I know feel this way.
But women aren't just meant to be wives and mothers. We are complete and whole and we have aspirations for our lives that include education, jobs, and other goals. ALL of the wives and mothers I know have at least some of the following: degrees, jobs, businesses, hobbies, and goals. This is healthy. It does not mean that marriage and family isn't a first priority. It just means that life has several facets for both men and women, and we are fulfilled in many different ways.
2. We have "given up" on marriage.
Again, NOT true. Beyond the fact that saying something like that is hurtful, it simply is false.
Here's the thing, folks. Humans are driven to companionship. It's not just a religious construct, although I think marriage, and in my case temple marriage, brings a sanctity to that companionship. And I do not deny the importance of that sanctity. But the idea that anyone over the "ripe old age" of thirty has given up on marriage is ludicrous. You don't give up on it. Proof is in the pudding...people divorce or lose spouses to death in their forties, fifties, sixties, seventies...and they remarry. What does that tell you??? Most humans want to be with a partner.
So, no, I haven't given up on marriage. And by the way, I stand in good company. Sheri Dew said, in a talk she gave a few years ago, that she had not given up on marriage, either, and she's fifty-eight years old. I'm telling you, the single women you know have not given up on marriage. It's like saying I'm going to give up drinking water and eating food because, obviously, I cannot. They are instinctual. The desire for love and companionship is, too. So you don't just turn that off and give up.
3. We are picky.
This is a difficult and touchy subject. I am not picky. However, I also want to fall in love, and I want to find someone to respect that has the same values and interests I have. I'm not expecting perfect. I'm not perfect. And I don't have a "type." I have been attracted to a myriad of men. I've dated blondes, brunettes, red heads. I've dated tall, short, thin, chubby. I've dated different races. I've dated men who were younger and who were older. I've even dated men who weren't LDS.
Please know that this is what we hear when someone tells us we are being too picky: "Stop being so picky. You're getting old and you're losing your attractions, so you just have to take whatever comes along. Never mind that I got to marry someone when I was in my twenties that I absolutely love and adore. I deserve to have happiness. You deserve to settle."
Now you may not have thought about what we hear when that is said to us. It may not have occurred to you that this makes us feel like we are second-class citizens...people who don't deserve to be happy. But please recognize how this sounds to us when we hear it. We single ladies LONG to have joy and love and we want to experience the rush of endorphins that come when you first start crushing on someone. We want to be excited about the people we date and eventually marry. I'm not suggesting that love is a little crush or that the rush of endorphins you feel when you're first dating someone you're really attracted to continues on forever. Of course it doesn't. And of course that is not why you marry someone.
I am suggesting that we deserve the same joy that you experienced when you met your husband or wife. Maybe that didn't happen right away when you met your spouse. But chances are if you're married, you did have the opportunity to feel all the joy and excitement of meeting someone really wonderful. Someone who made you laugh. Someone you couldn't wait to talk to. Someone you wanted to be with!!! I just want the same. That does not make me any more picky than it makes you.
4. We are somehow "choosing" to be single.
This makes me laugh. I would never have chosen this. I think that I have my own responsibility to get out and meet people so that I can date, and I admit that at times I have not given it my all. And at times I have flat out hid from the prospect. But that isn't because I was making a choice to be single. I was depressed and frustrated with dating and the male/female singles scene. My choices have had an impact on my dating life, but I didn't ever EVER EVER think to myself that I wasn't going out as a conscious decision to remain single. NEVER did that cross my mind.
Besides, my choice, at times, to stay home, is not the reason for my singleness, anyway. Factor, perhaps. The sole reason, absolutely not. I know too many people who were doing little, if anything, to meet someone only to go out randomly to one activity and meet the love of their life. There are so many, many factors when it comes to love and dating and eventually marriage. I am working really hard on accepting my responsibility to get out of my comfort zone and meet people. I cannot make people ask me on dates, nor would I want to. I can be friendly, outgoing and kind. I can take good care of myself. I can laugh and smile and be a good friend. I can be myself, comfortable with who I am single or not. Please understand, though, that it isn't a choice to be single. It is so much more complicated than that.
5. We don't want to be set up on dates.
I do. Now here I am speaking entirely for me, although I do know many women who also like the idea of being set up by friends and family. Ask before you get any ideas, though. I do want to go out! I do want to date. Have I said that enough? I am open to almost all options. I've tried the online scene. It wasn't for me. I go to singles wards when I can. I continue to think that is an option. My friends and family know people. And I am happy to meet the people they know for lunch or dinner or hot chocolate or ice cream. I cannot say this enough: I do want to go out!
6. We are automatically assessing marriage potential the moment we get asked out.
I'll be honest. Women think about marriage. We do. But just because we go on a date, that does not mean we are thinking about the man as marriage potential. In fact, as I've gotten older, I think less about marriage and more about just having a good time or meeting a new friend. All the dates I've been on in the past few years were just that. I met the guy, we ate out, went to a movie, the opera, walked, talked, etc. The normal date stuff. But I didn't sit and assess marriage potential at all. I was just out to meet someone and see what happened next.
7. We think men are scum.
Oh how untrue, and dangerously so, this is. I've met my share of men that weren't good for me. I emphasize that these men weren't good for me, but they were a good match for someone else. And of course, I've met some that weren't kind or honest with me. Those boys were probably not good for anyone, at least at that time. HOWEVER...I do not believe that they represent the majority of the male population. I can name countless guys that I've dated whom I respect. These are men who treated me well. These are men who made me laugh. Many of them are now married and are good fathers and good husbands.
I have five brothers, two grandfathers, uncles, cousins and, most importantly, a loving and good father that I have so much respect for. These men are good husbands and fathers...some of the best that I know. I have many married friends whose husbands set an example for me that help me believe in the goodness of men in the world. They give me lots of reasons to believe that there are still many many good men out there.
So no, I do not believe that men are scum. I actually have quite a fondness for the male population. And I believe I will find a nice man to marry and have a family with.
These are some of the misconceptions I've encountered. I'm sure my single friends have encountered others. I wanted to share my own experiences because often what I have encountered is far from the truth. And often it has been unkind. I get asked "Why aren't you married?" often enough. Sometimes people mean well. They are shocked that I'm not married. I'm relatively normal, smart, pretty, funny, etc. I'm a good conversationalist, and I love people. I'm a real people person.
However, sometimes what people say is not meant in a spirit of kindness. Rather the intention is judgmental and nosy and full of blame. No one would think to blame an infertile couple for their lack of children. No one would think to ask a widow or widower what was wrong with them that they lost their spouse. And yet day after day, single people are judged for being single. I say all this because it is hurtful to hear those comments when we are just doing our best. Moreover, such comments are only a reminder of a painful reality of our day to day lives.
All of us can be kinder, me included. I share this in hopes that others will recognize ways they can be more aware of the feelings of the single people in their lives.
Friday, October 28, 2011
Found...
This blog. Click here to read all about it.
At first, and I'm going to be alarmingly honest and ashamedly so, I was mad. I shouldn't have been so mad, but I was. It is a blog about love, and I was like, "Here is another divorced and remarried girl, right around my age, and I'm bitter about all this stuff. Everyone gets chance after chance to meet people and get married and I get none."
I'm ashamed of my attitude. You can read my post from yesterday to see why I am ashamed. In a nut shell, I hid in a cave for about the last seven or eight years, and then I have the nerve to be mad that other people have success in finding love because they willingly put themselves out there? Well, the logical side of me says to grow up.
Doesn't matter that she's been married and then remarried. In fact, how completely rude and insensitive of me to think such a horrible thing. I know too many friends who've experienced divorce, and it ripped those girls apart. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. And when I read her blog, and really delved into the posts, I cried. Hard. She tapped into a valve inside of me. I didn't read all of her posts, but after reading several, and in particular one entitled "My Personal Ground Zero," I felt something else: kinship.
I've never had someone come home and tell me they don't love me anymore and don't want to be married to me. I have had a broken heart. I haven't dealt with fertility issues, too boot. Ouch. Those are some tough blows. But I know nothing of infertility, either. I do know what it is like to long for children.
My first reaction was selfish and immature. I'm not proud of it. But I'm happy to have found out about this little gem of a blog. I have a feeling that it is going to be a new fave with lots and lots and lots of good insights.
At first, and I'm going to be alarmingly honest and ashamedly so, I was mad. I shouldn't have been so mad, but I was. It is a blog about love, and I was like, "Here is another divorced and remarried girl, right around my age, and I'm bitter about all this stuff. Everyone gets chance after chance to meet people and get married and I get none."
I'm ashamed of my attitude. You can read my post from yesterday to see why I am ashamed. In a nut shell, I hid in a cave for about the last seven or eight years, and then I have the nerve to be mad that other people have success in finding love because they willingly put themselves out there? Well, the logical side of me says to grow up.
Doesn't matter that she's been married and then remarried. In fact, how completely rude and insensitive of me to think such a horrible thing. I know too many friends who've experienced divorce, and it ripped those girls apart. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. And when I read her blog, and really delved into the posts, I cried. Hard. She tapped into a valve inside of me. I didn't read all of her posts, but after reading several, and in particular one entitled "My Personal Ground Zero," I felt something else: kinship.
I've never had someone come home and tell me they don't love me anymore and don't want to be married to me. I have had a broken heart. I haven't dealt with fertility issues, too boot. Ouch. Those are some tough blows. But I know nothing of infertility, either. I do know what it is like to long for children.
My first reaction was selfish and immature. I'm not proud of it. But I'm happy to have found out about this little gem of a blog. I have a feeling that it is going to be a new fave with lots and lots and lots of good insights.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
A Choice
Oh my good golly, miss molly, I am going to do this. I am going to go country dancing. I haven't, for those of you keeping track, done such dancing things in, oh ages and ages! What??? But I am going.
I will say I don't want to, but I have to.
Why, you might ask, do you have to? You don't have to do anything.
But I say I have to.
And here is why. I thought, long ago, that moving and changing would get me out of my comfort zone enough that I would start to meet boys and date. Anyone who knows my history in the last eleven years knows that I have moved states five times in eleven years! It turns out that you can move all over and be in all sorts of situations and still, no dates. Or, well, no long term relationships. There, that's more true. No committed long term loving and being loved relationships in that period. Even though you thought changing up your circumstances would help you find what you were looking for.
Because...it turns out that you can still find a cave to hide in. Here is the cave list:
1. Virginia: television and Papa Johns.
Honestly, there was no cave, at first. Just a plethora of friends and new friends and activities and institute. Then it happened one day. I had two really fantastic roommates who were trying to always always get me out of my shell. But there I was, in front of the t.v. on a Saturday night - almost every Saturday night. I shut out the world by choice.
2. Las Vegas: heartbroken + plenty of nice girls = no boy zone.
I mean I was gutted. But I was social in Vegas. I just had no confidence that I would find love. None. And I didn't want to. So I became the best girlfriend a girl has ever had, i.e....lots of hanging with "my girls" without the boys around. No effort at all went into finding guys to hang out with. Didn't even try.
3. New Jersey: the ever present LAW SCHOOL + wonderful little apartment all on my own = the most perfect excuse to just hang at home without anyone!
This might have sufficed for the first semester. Might...I mean, I was adjusting to law school and that is difficult and you do study your brains out - literally. I think mine might have started leaking out of my ear. But I let it become the excuse of all excuses. How silly and ill advised to let anything, no matter how "all important" and "rigorous", take over you life. Let's call a spade a spade. In some ways, law school was just another way for me to hide.
4. Texas: My brother's house
Do not get me wrong. I loved living there. I loved being close to my nieces. I can still hear little Julia waking up in the morning and calling out "Aunt Shelly! Aunt Sheeeeelllyyyyyy!!!" My heart breaks just a little when I think of her waiting for me. I honestly did believe, though, that if I went somewhere that wasn't a "singles mecca" that I might find what I wanted. You know the definition of insanity. It's doing the same thing over and over and expecting the same result. Since I'd lived life in four areas with huge LDS singles populations, I thought maybe I needed to go somewhere where I wasn't surrounded by it. I mean, my brother, Abe, met his wife while in the military and living in Fayetteville, North Carolina. So you know, she's beautiful and such and you can find really quality people when you aren't smack dab in the middle of singledoms major oases.
5. Utah: My parent's home
Now here is the end of the line and the reason I made the choice to go dancing. My parent's house is probably the quickest way to a rut I know. I mean, coming home and living in your old bedroom and oh, boy, I'm going to say it, living off of your parents and their good and lovely graces when you're thirty-five, well, that is a disaster waiting to happen when it comes to ruts. I'm in one. There is no way around it.
But, if I turn down the opportunity to get out of my comfort zone and go dancing on a Thursday night with my friends. Well, then I have to look at myself in the mirror and say, it isn't location, Michelle.
Because it isn't.
Really, what it is is an unwillingness to try. I can say oh boo hoo! I dated all that time and no one came along into my corner of the world, so now I'm going to call the game for rain (you knew I was going to come back to baseball, you just knew I would! Even if I'm not sure it even makes a tight metaphor here, which it doesn't, but it's baseball, and I refuse to change it!).
As it turns out, it wasn't where I was living physically on a map or who I was living with or without. I didn't try. I said no to so many invitations to get out and do things. It was, therefore, where my mind was mentally. I think somewhere, deep in the recesses of my dear and broken heart, that I wanted the UPS man to deliver my husband to my doorstep.
Well, now that I am in this situation? Like it or don't, I have to say yes . I have to say yes even if I feel like staying home and watching the Rangers play baseball. I have to say yes when I want to squash my face into a big old piece of pizza from Papa Johns. I have to say yes when my warm bed sits upstairs, and I can go and lay down and sleep at a decent hour.
It's a choice, yes. But then it is not.
I have to say yes to country dancing.
I will say I don't want to, but I have to.
Why, you might ask, do you have to? You don't have to do anything.
But I say I have to.
And here is why. I thought, long ago, that moving and changing would get me out of my comfort zone enough that I would start to meet boys and date. Anyone who knows my history in the last eleven years knows that I have moved states five times in eleven years! It turns out that you can move all over and be in all sorts of situations and still, no dates. Or, well, no long term relationships. There, that's more true. No committed long term loving and being loved relationships in that period. Even though you thought changing up your circumstances would help you find what you were looking for.
Because...it turns out that you can still find a cave to hide in. Here is the cave list:
1. Virginia: television and Papa Johns.
Honestly, there was no cave, at first. Just a plethora of friends and new friends and activities and institute. Then it happened one day. I had two really fantastic roommates who were trying to always always get me out of my shell. But there I was, in front of the t.v. on a Saturday night - almost every Saturday night. I shut out the world by choice.
2. Las Vegas: heartbroken + plenty of nice girls = no boy zone.
I mean I was gutted. But I was social in Vegas. I just had no confidence that I would find love. None. And I didn't want to. So I became the best girlfriend a girl has ever had, i.e....lots of hanging with "my girls" without the boys around. No effort at all went into finding guys to hang out with. Didn't even try.
3. New Jersey: the ever present LAW SCHOOL + wonderful little apartment all on my own = the most perfect excuse to just hang at home without anyone!
This might have sufficed for the first semester. Might...I mean, I was adjusting to law school and that is difficult and you do study your brains out - literally. I think mine might have started leaking out of my ear. But I let it become the excuse of all excuses. How silly and ill advised to let anything, no matter how "all important" and "rigorous", take over you life. Let's call a spade a spade. In some ways, law school was just another way for me to hide.
4. Texas: My brother's house
Do not get me wrong. I loved living there. I loved being close to my nieces. I can still hear little Julia waking up in the morning and calling out "Aunt Shelly! Aunt Sheeeeelllyyyyyy!!!" My heart breaks just a little when I think of her waiting for me. I honestly did believe, though, that if I went somewhere that wasn't a "singles mecca" that I might find what I wanted. You know the definition of insanity. It's doing the same thing over and over and expecting the same result. Since I'd lived life in four areas with huge LDS singles populations, I thought maybe I needed to go somewhere where I wasn't surrounded by it. I mean, my brother, Abe, met his wife while in the military and living in Fayetteville, North Carolina. So you know, she's beautiful and such and you can find really quality people when you aren't smack dab in the middle of singledoms major oases.
5. Utah: My parent's home
Now here is the end of the line and the reason I made the choice to go dancing. My parent's house is probably the quickest way to a rut I know. I mean, coming home and living in your old bedroom and oh, boy, I'm going to say it, living off of your parents and their good and lovely graces when you're thirty-five, well, that is a disaster waiting to happen when it comes to ruts. I'm in one. There is no way around it.
But, if I turn down the opportunity to get out of my comfort zone and go dancing on a Thursday night with my friends. Well, then I have to look at myself in the mirror and say, it isn't location, Michelle.
Because it isn't.
Really, what it is is an unwillingness to try. I can say oh boo hoo! I dated all that time and no one came along into my corner of the world, so now I'm going to call the game for rain (you knew I was going to come back to baseball, you just knew I would! Even if I'm not sure it even makes a tight metaphor here, which it doesn't, but it's baseball, and I refuse to change it!).
As it turns out, it wasn't where I was living physically on a map or who I was living with or without. I didn't try. I said no to so many invitations to get out and do things. It was, therefore, where my mind was mentally. I think somewhere, deep in the recesses of my dear and broken heart, that I wanted the UPS man to deliver my husband to my doorstep.
Well, now that I am in this situation? Like it or don't, I have to say yes . I have to say yes even if I feel like staying home and watching the Rangers play baseball. I have to say yes when I want to squash my face into a big old piece of pizza from Papa Johns. I have to say yes when my warm bed sits upstairs, and I can go and lay down and sleep at a decent hour.
It's a choice, yes. But then it is not.
I have to say yes to country dancing.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
So Brave, Young and Handsome
Another book on CD. I loved the narrator.
So Brave, Young and Handsome by Leif Enger
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Five stars for style...Leif Enger can write, boy howdy! Three stars for plot because it meandered a bit to the point of feeling sloooooooow...at least at times. Just saying the pacing could have been better.
So I listened to this little gem while taking long walks, and the narrator, Dan Woren, was a delight, I tell you a deeeelight! It felt like having a companionable old friend along to tell me a little story about a man named Monte Becket. Monte is a writer, but it seems he may be a one hit wonder. His first book has gone through several printings now, but his editor is less than impressed with his last few manuscripts, and Monte might be bound for the U.S. Postal Service, a job he once held and still hates.
And then along comes Glendon Hale, an erstwhile train robber turned boat builder, wanting to make up for his past by seeking out his ex-wife, Blue, and apologizing to her for his swift departure twenty years earlier. Monte sets off with Glen and let the heroics ensue.
The story meanders along with the outlaw and Mr. Becket as they head south to find redemption. While Glen seeks forgiveness from his beloved Blue, Monte attempts to rediscover his ability to write. But it's not that easy, and Monte must face his own fears...that perhaps he might not be the artist he thought he was.
Of course, there is the chase. Glen gets away, but Siringo, the persistent Pinkerton detective, is not about to let him go so easily, and Monte finds himself Siringo's unwilling accomplice. They gad about the country-side, and Monte discovers that his Pinkerton abductor is perhaps the biggest fraud of them all.
I love the surprise of Enger's prose. It's plain, perhaps, but beautiful for certain. More than that, the story is thoughtful and thought provoking. What makes a person "good"? What does it mean to love? What does it mean to be loyal?
The brilliance of the story is Siringo. Of course you should cheer for the law, but you find yourself questioning the detective. His obsessive search for Glen isn't about the law, after all. Mostly it's just about him and his ego and some false history Siringo concocts on his way to get him. Siringo becomes the perfect foil for both Glen and Monte, proving that might isn't always right.
It's a great story, if a bit meandering at times. And Leif Enger is fantastic.
View all my reviews
So Brave, Young and Handsome by Leif EngerMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
Five stars for style...Leif Enger can write, boy howdy! Three stars for plot because it meandered a bit to the point of feeling sloooooooow...at least at times. Just saying the pacing could have been better.
So I listened to this little gem while taking long walks, and the narrator, Dan Woren, was a delight, I tell you a deeeelight! It felt like having a companionable old friend along to tell me a little story about a man named Monte Becket. Monte is a writer, but it seems he may be a one hit wonder. His first book has gone through several printings now, but his editor is less than impressed with his last few manuscripts, and Monte might be bound for the U.S. Postal Service, a job he once held and still hates.
And then along comes Glendon Hale, an erstwhile train robber turned boat builder, wanting to make up for his past by seeking out his ex-wife, Blue, and apologizing to her for his swift departure twenty years earlier. Monte sets off with Glen and let the heroics ensue.
The story meanders along with the outlaw and Mr. Becket as they head south to find redemption. While Glen seeks forgiveness from his beloved Blue, Monte attempts to rediscover his ability to write. But it's not that easy, and Monte must face his own fears...that perhaps he might not be the artist he thought he was.
Of course, there is the chase. Glen gets away, but Siringo, the persistent Pinkerton detective, is not about to let him go so easily, and Monte finds himself Siringo's unwilling accomplice. They gad about the country-side, and Monte discovers that his Pinkerton abductor is perhaps the biggest fraud of them all.
I love the surprise of Enger's prose. It's plain, perhaps, but beautiful for certain. More than that, the story is thoughtful and thought provoking. What makes a person "good"? What does it mean to love? What does it mean to be loyal?
The brilliance of the story is Siringo. Of course you should cheer for the law, but you find yourself questioning the detective. His obsessive search for Glen isn't about the law, after all. Mostly it's just about him and his ego and some false history Siringo concocts on his way to get him. Siringo becomes the perfect foil for both Glen and Monte, proving that might isn't always right.
It's a great story, if a bit meandering at times. And Leif Enger is fantastic.
View all my reviews
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Don't Think About Tomorrow
I worked out again for four hours today. Can you say UGH...or CRAZY? I was out walking, and it was too cold, and my feet were aching, and my legs were feeling super tight, like losing the ability to move quickly, that sort of tight. Right now I feel like I just spent a long day skiing - a slight chill lingering around my ears and nose, little aches, and totally sluggish.
Then I think about tomorrow.
I should not think about tomorrow. I should just think about my nice warm bed, a long night's sleep. But I keep thinking about tomorrow and how I've committed myself to this for the rest of the week. Two days down...great job...but four more to go. Blisters are developing on my feet. Can I do it again? I'm just not so sure.
I think that's a big problem with me lately. I can't stop thinking about the entirety of a project, the whole long process of getting to the end goal, whatever the goal may be. And you know when you think about the whole long process and obsess over how big it is...well, you get discouraged, think about all the excuses for not doing it, and then, well, you give up. I need to learn how to take things one day at a time.
I'm such a planner that I like to think ten steps ahead. It's good to have a long term goal...an end where you want to be. I also think it's good to be able to take things one step at a time after you've decided what the end goal is. You know, learn to put the end in the background and focus on just what has to be done now.
Then I think about tomorrow.
I should not think about tomorrow. I should just think about my nice warm bed, a long night's sleep. But I keep thinking about tomorrow and how I've committed myself to this for the rest of the week. Two days down...great job...but four more to go. Blisters are developing on my feet. Can I do it again? I'm just not so sure.
I think that's a big problem with me lately. I can't stop thinking about the entirety of a project, the whole long process of getting to the end goal, whatever the goal may be. And you know when you think about the whole long process and obsess over how big it is...well, you get discouraged, think about all the excuses for not doing it, and then, well, you give up. I need to learn how to take things one day at a time.
I'm such a planner that I like to think ten steps ahead. It's good to have a long term goal...an end where you want to be. I also think it's good to be able to take things one step at a time after you've decided what the end goal is. You know, learn to put the end in the background and focus on just what has to be done now.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Thoughts for Today
1. I did something sort of crazy today. I worked out for four hours. And oh wow I am sooooooooore! It started when I got on the scale. I don't know what possessed me to get on the scale in the first place because that thing causes me serious angst. So, I thought seeing the number would make me cry. It didn't. I thought it would disgust me. It didn't. I thought I would be angry at myself. I wasn't. It did spur me on to do something. I started the food journal today, and I got moving. Moving moving moving. I walked for two hours and almost eight miles. I took a break for an hour, ate some lunch, rested up. Then I was off once again, doing an hour long boot camp workout and another hour long walk/run. I might be crazy, but then again, I might be just really really tired of the struggle and ready to change it. So I ate about 1,400 calories and worked out for four hours. I'm going for it again tomorrow. I want to see what happens at the end of the week. It's my little Biggest Loser experiment. If they can work out seven hours a day, I can do four.
2. More about baseball...don't lynch me! So during the game Punto, a Cardinal, made an error. It was rather ugly and as a result, the bases were loaded. I know I'm rooting for the Rangers, and I'm happy that they won tonight. BUT...I just really hate seeing the faces of the players when they know they've committed an error during a critical moment of the game. His error probably led to the Rangers scoring two more and winning the game. The look on his face said it all. "I just lost the game." Ugh. Poor guy. I may be a Rangers fan, but I'm not heartless!
3. My sister-in-law, Leah, has the nicest sister. Her sister Angie brought me a watch tonight. I planned on paying her, but I didn't have cash on hand when she came. Actually, I forgot all about the watch. What a nice surprise! It's only a ten dollar watch, but it was so thoughtful of her. And she wouldn't let me pay her! That stinker. I'm going to have to come up with a little something to say thank you. I love surprises like that. And I think Angie might have to become my new best friend. I told her so tonight because I miss Leah soooooooooo very much!
2. More about baseball...don't lynch me! So during the game Punto, a Cardinal, made an error. It was rather ugly and as a result, the bases were loaded. I know I'm rooting for the Rangers, and I'm happy that they won tonight. BUT...I just really hate seeing the faces of the players when they know they've committed an error during a critical moment of the game. His error probably led to the Rangers scoring two more and winning the game. The look on his face said it all. "I just lost the game." Ugh. Poor guy. I may be a Rangers fan, but I'm not heartless!
3. My sister-in-law, Leah, has the nicest sister. Her sister Angie brought me a watch tonight. I planned on paying her, but I didn't have cash on hand when she came. Actually, I forgot all about the watch. What a nice surprise! It's only a ten dollar watch, but it was so thoughtful of her. And she wouldn't let me pay her! That stinker. I'm going to have to come up with a little something to say thank you. I love surprises like that. And I think Angie might have to become my new best friend. I told her so tonight because I miss Leah soooooooooo very much!
Sunday, October 23, 2011
A Swing...
...And a miss?
Watching a little World Series action. Are you tired yet of my love for all things baseball? Because it will probably change once the series is over and baseball isn't in front of my face and thus on my mind. At least, that is the case until next year rolls around and playoff season begins anew. And then I'm sure I'll be back to obsessing over the game.
But leastways, while I was watching the game tonight, I was thinking about how hard it must be to hit the ball. A slo-mo replay came up on the screen and there the batter was, swinging for a slider that slipped below the bat, dropping just as the batter was trying to connect with the ball. A swing, and of course, a miss. You know, and that is what happens when these guys get up to bat. They don't connect with the ball too often, and that is baseball for you.
I remember when I was around twenty, someone talked me into playing on a co-ed softball team in Spanish Fork. Bad idea. I love baseball - I don't play baseball. This is softball, you might say. Either way, doesn't matter. I don't play. Mostly it's because I can't hit. Even when I get lucky enough to connect with the ball, it usually doesn't go very far. Maybe, with a little luck, I can get the ball past the pitcher, but out of the infield? Forget about it. It's not going to happen.
One night I show up for our team game. And who should be the home plate umpire but Ben Marziale, a boy I went to high school with who played baseball for the University of Utah. Ben is an athlete, naturally gifted and really good, too. I got up to bat, and I wouldn't swing. Not for anything. Ben kept telling me to swing for it, to try, to hit the ball. I was so self conscious that I could not do it. This happened every time I got up to bat. I can't remember how many times I got walked and how many times I struck out, but either way, I wouldn't take a swing.
I didn't really understand the game then. I liked baseball, but I didn't understand the game. The game is getting on base and that is almost all it is. Sure it's fielding...catching, throwing, pitching. But mostly it is hitting the ball and getting on base and that means that you must swing the bat once in a while even if you might miss it. Even if you might swing super hard, like super hero slugger ready to blow it out of the park hard, and miss the ball.
I was so afraid of looking silly that I missed the point. You might miss it a lot. After all, the majors miss the ball a lot. And these guys get payed millions of dollars to play the game. No one thinks they look silly when they miss the ball, and no one mocks them. Well, they might get heckled, but they all know how to take it in stride. And so they swing for the ball.
Now I've talked a lot about missing the ball. Oh but what about when it goes the other way? What about when the batter connects with the ball and really hits it and it flies, soars really, far far far, deep into the park and into the stands? What about then? That's rare. Most of the time when someone connects with the ball, they're out at first. Or it's a pop fly and someone in the outfield catches it in the air. Barring unforeseen errors, even when someone gets a piece of the ball, most likely they'll be out, anyway.
That's why I love the game. Baseball is really life. Even if the odds aren't in your favor, you get up to bat anyway. You swing and swing, and sometimes you get a really big piece of the ball and out of the park it goes. And even though that is rare, everyone comes out to play. Batters get up to bat, pitchers go to the mound to pitch, players head out to the field and take up their positions, and they play anyway.
No, I tell you, I didn't understand baseball back in those days when I wouldn't take a swing. Life is about taking a swing, hitting the ball some days and missing it others. It's about a pop-fly that is easily caught or an error that allows you to at least get on base. How many times in life do you hit that ball way out of the park? Not many, but that doesn't mean you don't take the risk and show up to hit the ball anyway because if you do hit it out of the park, oh if you do hit it out of the park, that is a beautiful thing. And the rest, well, that's just beautiful too, because that is the experience and the learning.
Watching a little World Series action. Are you tired yet of my love for all things baseball? Because it will probably change once the series is over and baseball isn't in front of my face and thus on my mind. At least, that is the case until next year rolls around and playoff season begins anew. And then I'm sure I'll be back to obsessing over the game.
But leastways, while I was watching the game tonight, I was thinking about how hard it must be to hit the ball. A slo-mo replay came up on the screen and there the batter was, swinging for a slider that slipped below the bat, dropping just as the batter was trying to connect with the ball. A swing, and of course, a miss. You know, and that is what happens when these guys get up to bat. They don't connect with the ball too often, and that is baseball for you.
I remember when I was around twenty, someone talked me into playing on a co-ed softball team in Spanish Fork. Bad idea. I love baseball - I don't play baseball. This is softball, you might say. Either way, doesn't matter. I don't play. Mostly it's because I can't hit. Even when I get lucky enough to connect with the ball, it usually doesn't go very far. Maybe, with a little luck, I can get the ball past the pitcher, but out of the infield? Forget about it. It's not going to happen.
One night I show up for our team game. And who should be the home plate umpire but Ben Marziale, a boy I went to high school with who played baseball for the University of Utah. Ben is an athlete, naturally gifted and really good, too. I got up to bat, and I wouldn't swing. Not for anything. Ben kept telling me to swing for it, to try, to hit the ball. I was so self conscious that I could not do it. This happened every time I got up to bat. I can't remember how many times I got walked and how many times I struck out, but either way, I wouldn't take a swing.
I didn't really understand the game then. I liked baseball, but I didn't understand the game. The game is getting on base and that is almost all it is. Sure it's fielding...catching, throwing, pitching. But mostly it is hitting the ball and getting on base and that means that you must swing the bat once in a while even if you might miss it. Even if you might swing super hard, like super hero slugger ready to blow it out of the park hard, and miss the ball.
I was so afraid of looking silly that I missed the point. You might miss it a lot. After all, the majors miss the ball a lot. And these guys get payed millions of dollars to play the game. No one thinks they look silly when they miss the ball, and no one mocks them. Well, they might get heckled, but they all know how to take it in stride. And so they swing for the ball.
Now I've talked a lot about missing the ball. Oh but what about when it goes the other way? What about when the batter connects with the ball and really hits it and it flies, soars really, far far far, deep into the park and into the stands? What about then? That's rare. Most of the time when someone connects with the ball, they're out at first. Or it's a pop fly and someone in the outfield catches it in the air. Barring unforeseen errors, even when someone gets a piece of the ball, most likely they'll be out, anyway.
That's why I love the game. Baseball is really life. Even if the odds aren't in your favor, you get up to bat anyway. You swing and swing, and sometimes you get a really big piece of the ball and out of the park it goes. And even though that is rare, everyone comes out to play. Batters get up to bat, pitchers go to the mound to pitch, players head out to the field and take up their positions, and they play anyway.
No, I tell you, I didn't understand baseball back in those days when I wouldn't take a swing. Life is about taking a swing, hitting the ball some days and missing it others. It's about a pop-fly that is easily caught or an error that allows you to at least get on base. How many times in life do you hit that ball way out of the park? Not many, but that doesn't mean you don't take the risk and show up to hit the ball anyway because if you do hit it out of the park, oh if you do hit it out of the park, that is a beautiful thing. And the rest, well, that's just beautiful too, because that is the experience and the learning.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Five Random Things Saturday
1. I noticed that my right eyebrow sits lower than my left eyebrow. It's a slight difference, but I wonder if other people notice it. It's been like that as long as I can remember, but I was looking in the mirror the other day, and it seemed that the right brow was drooping more than it usually does. Today,though, it seems normal, like it's always looked in the past. And it sometimes gives me a bit of a worry that it's Bell's palsy. I can be such a worrier.
2. I think I'm the only person on the planet who actually flosses her teeth every day. And you know, I actually sort of hate doing it, but I do it anyway. I haven't had a cavity in many, many years. I attribute it to flossing.
3. I watched my nephew, and he brought a wrist rocket. A wrist rocket! Basically a sling fit for your arm to launch projectiles into the wild blue yonder. We took it out front and fired some rocks off into the field. It's actually really fun to launch rocks like that. More important...I like hanging out with Peyton. We played football and Lincoln Logs and watched baseball. He even wanted me to sit near him while he played on the computer. I adore that boy!
4. From Elder Oaks: "Faith in the Lord Jesus Christ prepares you for whatever life brings. This kind of faith prepares you to deal with life’s opportunities—to take advantage of those that are received and to persist through the disappointments of those that are lost." While preparing a lesson on trusting in God, I discovered this little gem. I especially like that last clause - that true faith helps us "persist through the disappointments of those [opportunities] that are lost." Sometimes I think that life is a lesson in accepting lost chances. Perhaps that is because lost chances teach us to take advantage of opportunities that place themselves in our paths now. Probably everyone has regrets. Like failing and falling short, those disappointments help us to rise up to new opportunities. I most certainly believe that is what faith is - it teaches us to persist through the most rueful moments in our lives. it teaches us that new chances will come. It teaches us that we can take hold of those chances and move forward.
5. I'm thinking of a friend that I'm really grateful for. She took me in when I needed help. I was moving to Newark, but I needed a place to stay for a few days before I could move into my new apartment. She had an extra bedroom, and she offered it to me freely. Otherwise I would have had to spend the weekend in a hotel...and that would have been expensive, people. Then an emergency came up, and she had to travel to Arizona with her sister. But she went out of her way to make sure a key was left with a neighbor, give me directions by subway to get to her house and the contact information I needed to get into her apartment. She did this even though her sister was in the middle of a full blown crisis, and she had to get ready to leave without any notice. What a good and true friend you are Kamilah Grace! I love you.
2. I think I'm the only person on the planet who actually flosses her teeth every day. And you know, I actually sort of hate doing it, but I do it anyway. I haven't had a cavity in many, many years. I attribute it to flossing.
3. I watched my nephew, and he brought a wrist rocket. A wrist rocket! Basically a sling fit for your arm to launch projectiles into the wild blue yonder. We took it out front and fired some rocks off into the field. It's actually really fun to launch rocks like that. More important...I like hanging out with Peyton. We played football and Lincoln Logs and watched baseball. He even wanted me to sit near him while he played on the computer. I adore that boy!
4. From Elder Oaks: "Faith in the Lord Jesus Christ prepares you for whatever life brings. This kind of faith prepares you to deal with life’s opportunities—to take advantage of those that are received and to persist through the disappointments of those that are lost." While preparing a lesson on trusting in God, I discovered this little gem. I especially like that last clause - that true faith helps us "persist through the disappointments of those [opportunities] that are lost." Sometimes I think that life is a lesson in accepting lost chances. Perhaps that is because lost chances teach us to take advantage of opportunities that place themselves in our paths now. Probably everyone has regrets. Like failing and falling short, those disappointments help us to rise up to new opportunities. I most certainly believe that is what faith is - it teaches us to persist through the most rueful moments in our lives. it teaches us that new chances will come. It teaches us that we can take hold of those chances and move forward.
5. I'm thinking of a friend that I'm really grateful for. She took me in when I needed help. I was moving to Newark, but I needed a place to stay for a few days before I could move into my new apartment. She had an extra bedroom, and she offered it to me freely. Otherwise I would have had to spend the weekend in a hotel...and that would have been expensive, people. Then an emergency came up, and she had to travel to Arizona with her sister. But she went out of her way to make sure a key was left with a neighbor, give me directions by subway to get to her house and the contact information I needed to get into her apartment. She did this even though her sister was in the middle of a full blown crisis, and she had to get ready to leave without any notice. What a good and true friend you are Kamilah Grace! I love you.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Things I Hope to Do Before I Die
In no particular order, my "bucket" list:
1. Write a book (or two...or ten)
2. See the Great Wall of China
3. Get married
4. Have children
5. Bungee jump (I seriously need to overcome my fear of heights...)
6. Kiss someone at the top of the Eiffel Tower
7. Buy a really expensive purse
8. See Mt. Rushmore
9. Ski in the Alps
10. Go to a Red Sox game at Fenway...hopefully a Red Sox vs. Yankees game
11. Meet Matt Damon (you knew I was going to say that)
12. Run a marathon
13. Meet J.K. Rowling
14. Do the Lord of the Rings movie tour in New Zealand (nerd alert!)
15. Go some place tropical
16. Start a charitable organization that focuses on revamping libraries
17. See the bamboo forests in Japan
18. Go to Disneyworld
19. Go to Universal Studios in Orlando...just for the HP theme park
20. Spend a weekend during the fall in some old, beautiful inn in Vermont
21. Learn photography
22. See Neuschwanstein in every season
23. Learn French...really and truly learn it, not just study it
24. Buy a cabin somewhere in the mountains in Utah
25. See Sting in concert
To be continued...
1. Write a book (or two...or ten)
2. See the Great Wall of China
3. Get married
4. Have children
5. Bungee jump (I seriously need to overcome my fear of heights...)
6. Kiss someone at the top of the Eiffel Tower
7. Buy a really expensive purse
8. See Mt. Rushmore
9. Ski in the Alps
10. Go to a Red Sox game at Fenway...hopefully a Red Sox vs. Yankees game
11. Meet Matt Damon (you knew I was going to say that)
12. Run a marathon
13. Meet J.K. Rowling
14. Do the Lord of the Rings movie tour in New Zealand (nerd alert!)
15. Go some place tropical
16. Start a charitable organization that focuses on revamping libraries
17. See the bamboo forests in Japan
18. Go to Disneyworld
19. Go to Universal Studios in Orlando...just for the HP theme park
20. Spend a weekend during the fall in some old, beautiful inn in Vermont
21. Learn photography
22. See Neuschwanstein in every season
23. Learn French...really and truly learn it, not just study it
24. Buy a cabin somewhere in the mountains in Utah
25. See Sting in concert
To be continued...
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Everybody Knows I Love Matt Damon
I have since I was seventeen, and Mr. Damon played the bad boy in School Ties with Brendan Frasier. Stop me if I've told you this story because I probably have. The title says it all. Everyone knows I'm Matt Damon's biggest fan, and even if he is married, I'm pretty sure we'd be the best of pals, anyway. I'm not a home wrecker.
Still, a girl can love lots of boys, is what I've decided. I've crushed on sooooo many boys.
Well right now, let me tell you something. I'm feeling sort of like a traitor. I'm cheering for the Texas Rangers in the World Series because a girl's got to cheer for her former hometown team. Forget about it, though, if Red Sox were playing. I'll always root for the Red Sox. But I don't think The Red Sox and the Rangers would ever face each other in the World Series since they play in the same league. Whatever, doesn't matter. It just matters that the Rangers are facing the Cardinals, and I'm rooting for the Rangers. Right now the Rangers are behind...first game went to the Cards, and St. Louis is up by one run thus far in the game. Oh, and it's top of the ninth with Rangers at bat. I'm sort of praying for a miracle. It's looking good. We've got two on base...second and third, no less...and AND no outs! Can you imagine? My miracle just may happen!!!
But I'm sort of crushing on Matt Holliday (What up Matty Matt Matt? I must have a thing for Matts.). He's kind of adorable with his beard and all. And what is up with the Majors and all these beards, anyway? I tell you there are lots of beards going on out there, and I've never been a big fan of the beard. It's just not my thing, what with running away from Santa as a child. All that facial hair made the big man a bit intimidating; I kid you not, he terrified me because he must have been hiding something behind all that facial hair. But Matt Holliday can sport the beard all he wants to since it is working for him...really, really working for him. Still, the man plays for the Cardinals...my arch enemies right now...my nemeses. And I'm trying to find a Ranger to crush on, but no such luck. Matty Holliday is pretty stinking cute.
Oh, and p to the big fat s!!! Rangers are up by one now! Cardinals are up to bat. Let's do this Feliz! Strike those boys out!!!
Still, a girl can love lots of boys, is what I've decided. I've crushed on sooooo many boys.
Well right now, let me tell you something. I'm feeling sort of like a traitor. I'm cheering for the Texas Rangers in the World Series because a girl's got to cheer for her former hometown team. Forget about it, though, if Red Sox were playing. I'll always root for the Red Sox. But I don't think The Red Sox and the Rangers would ever face each other in the World Series since they play in the same league. Whatever, doesn't matter. It just matters that the Rangers are facing the Cardinals, and I'm rooting for the Rangers. Right now the Rangers are behind...first game went to the Cards, and St. Louis is up by one run thus far in the game. Oh, and it's top of the ninth with Rangers at bat. I'm sort of praying for a miracle. It's looking good. We've got two on base...second and third, no less...and AND no outs! Can you imagine? My miracle just may happen!!!
But I'm sort of crushing on Matt Holliday (What up Matty Matt Matt? I must have a thing for Matts.). He's kind of adorable with his beard and all. And what is up with the Majors and all these beards, anyway? I tell you there are lots of beards going on out there, and I've never been a big fan of the beard. It's just not my thing, what with running away from Santa as a child. All that facial hair made the big man a bit intimidating; I kid you not, he terrified me because he must have been hiding something behind all that facial hair. But Matt Holliday can sport the beard all he wants to since it is working for him...really, really working for him. Still, the man plays for the Cardinals...my arch enemies right now...my nemeses. And I'm trying to find a Ranger to crush on, but no such luck. Matty Holliday is pretty stinking cute.
Oh, and p to the big fat s!!! Rangers are up by one now! Cardinals are up to bat. Let's do this Feliz! Strike those boys out!!!
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
An Actual Scary Story
Do you want to hear an actual scary story? This one is true. Probably one of only two times I've been actually scared for my safety. Besides scary car ride stories. We aren't counting those stories.
So I was backpacking through Europe. My sweet friend Kate had done a really great job finding hostels for us all over the place, and we'd been very lucky up to that point. The hostels we'd stayed in had been relatively clean, if not immaculate - Berlin, Germany, for example, was awesome. We were on our way, though, to Prague. And let's just say that Prague was still in the midst of a post-communism adjustment to life. Lots of homeless, lots of drugs, lots of theft.
I must, for a moment, defend that city. It might be one of the most beautiful cities on the planet. Certainly in my top five...of the cities that I have been to, of course. And the people were kind, too. So don't feel bad Prague. I still love you and that visit!
But let's just say that we found our hostel in a not so great part of town. I remember the train ride from the central part of the city - the most beautiful town square you have ever seen in your life - was long. I mean loooooooong. And then the walk to the hostel from there was dark, and I can't say I was super comfortable walking through the neighborhood. In fact, when we first arrived at the hostel, the manager encouraged us to put our passports in the front desk safe. We scoffed. After leading us to the back of the building, up steps, down steps and up some more, past old furniture crowded into dank and narrow hallways, Kate, Amy and I were a little worried.
Then there was the sign on bar covered window: a sketch of a "thief/junkie" out looking to steal from unsuspecting tourists. Keep your eyes peeled, and keep the door locked. In fact, there was a tiny glass case next to the door in the room containing a key to be used to open the bars covering the window in case of fire. Add to that the smell of urine emanating from the sheets, and let's just say that I was uncomfortable. I think it's safe to say that we all were.
Oh well, we were off to see the sites anyway. And we stayed out pretty late eating dinner and enjoying the city. When we got back, it was probably close to eleven, and we settled in for the night. We started chatting and laughing and were just having a good time in general when we heard someone knocking on a door across the hall. The knocking continued until someone came to the door. Whoever was in the hall proceeded to yell loudly, but clearly whoever had answered the door had no idea what this man was saying. A sort of scuffle ensued, and a door was slammed. That seemed to be the end of it. The three of us were quietly looking at each other and hoping that no one knocked on our door.
No one did. We continued our conversation, more laughing and such. And then it happened. I looked up at the door to see the handle move, quietly and slowly, down and then back up. I glanced up at Amy, and both of our eyes grew wide. I looked at Kate. She hadn't noticed, clearly. Amy and I were freaked out. Who in the h was trying to get into the room? Of course we told Kate, but she had not seen it happen. She asked us if we were sure. I can still see that room in my mind, and I can still see that handle move down then back up. We were both certain about what we had seen.
Soon after, it was lights out. We wanted to get up pretty early so that we could get up to the castle first thing in the morning. But it was really tough to sleep. I remember in the middle of the night that I was extremely thirsty. Kate was in the bed across the way from me, probably less than three feet away. I didn't want to scare her or Amy while I dug around for my water bottle, but I could not wait any longer. So I quietly tried to feel around for it. Of course, Kate heard me.
"Fish?" she said oh so very tentatively?
"It's me. I'm just so thirsty. I'm sorry."
"Okay," sigh of relief, "just wanted to make sure."
I'm telling you, it was a long night. I finally fell asleep and got up pretty early. I just couldn't shake the feeling that someone was standing outside the door, waiting to get in the room.
So I was backpacking through Europe. My sweet friend Kate had done a really great job finding hostels for us all over the place, and we'd been very lucky up to that point. The hostels we'd stayed in had been relatively clean, if not immaculate - Berlin, Germany, for example, was awesome. We were on our way, though, to Prague. And let's just say that Prague was still in the midst of a post-communism adjustment to life. Lots of homeless, lots of drugs, lots of theft.
I must, for a moment, defend that city. It might be one of the most beautiful cities on the planet. Certainly in my top five...of the cities that I have been to, of course. And the people were kind, too. So don't feel bad Prague. I still love you and that visit!
But let's just say that we found our hostel in a not so great part of town. I remember the train ride from the central part of the city - the most beautiful town square you have ever seen in your life - was long. I mean loooooooong. And then the walk to the hostel from there was dark, and I can't say I was super comfortable walking through the neighborhood. In fact, when we first arrived at the hostel, the manager encouraged us to put our passports in the front desk safe. We scoffed. After leading us to the back of the building, up steps, down steps and up some more, past old furniture crowded into dank and narrow hallways, Kate, Amy and I were a little worried.
Then there was the sign on bar covered window: a sketch of a "thief/junkie" out looking to steal from unsuspecting tourists. Keep your eyes peeled, and keep the door locked. In fact, there was a tiny glass case next to the door in the room containing a key to be used to open the bars covering the window in case of fire. Add to that the smell of urine emanating from the sheets, and let's just say that I was uncomfortable. I think it's safe to say that we all were.
Oh well, we were off to see the sites anyway. And we stayed out pretty late eating dinner and enjoying the city. When we got back, it was probably close to eleven, and we settled in for the night. We started chatting and laughing and were just having a good time in general when we heard someone knocking on a door across the hall. The knocking continued until someone came to the door. Whoever was in the hall proceeded to yell loudly, but clearly whoever had answered the door had no idea what this man was saying. A sort of scuffle ensued, and a door was slammed. That seemed to be the end of it. The three of us were quietly looking at each other and hoping that no one knocked on our door.
No one did. We continued our conversation, more laughing and such. And then it happened. I looked up at the door to see the handle move, quietly and slowly, down and then back up. I glanced up at Amy, and both of our eyes grew wide. I looked at Kate. She hadn't noticed, clearly. Amy and I were freaked out. Who in the h was trying to get into the room? Of course we told Kate, but she had not seen it happen. She asked us if we were sure. I can still see that room in my mind, and I can still see that handle move down then back up. We were both certain about what we had seen.
Soon after, it was lights out. We wanted to get up pretty early so that we could get up to the castle first thing in the morning. But it was really tough to sleep. I remember in the middle of the night that I was extremely thirsty. Kate was in the bed across the way from me, probably less than three feet away. I didn't want to scare her or Amy while I dug around for my water bottle, but I could not wait any longer. So I quietly tried to feel around for it. Of course, Kate heard me.
"Fish?" she said oh so very tentatively?
"It's me. I'm just so thirsty. I'm sorry."
"Okay," sigh of relief, "just wanted to make sure."
I'm telling you, it was a long night. I finally fell asleep and got up pretty early. I just couldn't shake the feeling that someone was standing outside the door, waiting to get in the room.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Rock Canyon
It's too bad. All those years I lived in Utah, and I didn't take advantage of what was right in my backyard. Today I went hiking with a friend in Rock Canyon, just behind the Provo Temple. I did not know what I was missing. I wish I had taken my camera. I meant to...just forgot. But let me tell you. There is a point where you get to a ridge about three miles up the trail. You can look out and see several other peaks and lots of trees. And well, it's fall, after all. So the trees are all sorts of colors. Amazing. Seriously wishing I had pictures to document it. Days like this are good for the soul. I'm going to have to look out for other things I'd missed out on all those years.
Monday, October 17, 2011
The Appeal
Still on a roll...another Grisham novel. This time it was goooood!
The Appeal by John Grisham
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Alright...well, I admit that I read a few one and two star reviews before posting mine because I wanted to read what the nay-sayers had to say about the book. I was pretty sure I knew what they wouldn't like, and I was pretty sure I would disagree. I was right. I understand others' chagrin with Grisham's choice of ending, but I thought it was refreshing. It's about time someone bucked the system and didn't give us a patented ending, all tied up with a pretty bow.
So here is the deal. Mississippi just happens to be one of many states that elects it judiciary, including the members who sit on the supreme court of the state. Now you may think this is a good thing - leave it in the hands of the voter to decide who should make judicial rulings. But it is NOT! Judges, you see, should be free from the shackles of political biases so that they can make fair rulings without any pressure - decisions based on the merits of a case and the correct application of the law. The story explores what might happen if a supreme court judge just happened to be elected by a group hired by a man with money - billions of dollars, to be exact - and an agenda for winning a particular case.
I do not want to spoil the ending, and perhaps it is true that Grisham is making a political statement. Okay, so it's pretty obvious. Even if he is, so be it. He still tells a fast paced and satisfying story of the type that I had once come to expect from Grisham. And while the book deals with torts and mass tort litigation, unlike The King of Torts, the book has some meat on its bones.
Instead of decrying mass tort litigation involving large corporations (product manufacturers, pharmaceutical companies and the like), Grisham delves into the one on one cases where such companies should be held liable for polluting the water and creating dangerous products in cases involving just one plaintiff. Tort litigation is the seedy underbelly of the law. Still, there are several law suits out there - think Erin Brockovich - that deserve attention in our courts. Huge conglomerates should be held responsible when they skirt the law and poison the water, create dangerous drugs, or manufacture products that are unsafe.
Of course, you want the bad guy to get his due here. Maybe he does and maybe he doesn't. But Grisham leaves the reader feeling uncomfortable and perhaps a little guilty for playing into the game of big political campaign spending...naively believing everything one hears on t.v. about a candidate and his or her record based on a thirty-second commercial that takes sound bites completely out of the context in which they were meant to be be heard. He even makes one a bit uncomfortable with the idea the a judiciary is elected and that a judge would feel beholden to those who paid for his or her election. And in the end, I liked that he gave me something to think about.
It reminded me of The Client and The Rainmaker, and that is a good thing.
View all my reviews
The Appeal by John GrishamMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
Alright...well, I admit that I read a few one and two star reviews before posting mine because I wanted to read what the nay-sayers had to say about the book. I was pretty sure I knew what they wouldn't like, and I was pretty sure I would disagree. I was right. I understand others' chagrin with Grisham's choice of ending, but I thought it was refreshing. It's about time someone bucked the system and didn't give us a patented ending, all tied up with a pretty bow.
So here is the deal. Mississippi just happens to be one of many states that elects it judiciary, including the members who sit on the supreme court of the state. Now you may think this is a good thing - leave it in the hands of the voter to decide who should make judicial rulings. But it is NOT! Judges, you see, should be free from the shackles of political biases so that they can make fair rulings without any pressure - decisions based on the merits of a case and the correct application of the law. The story explores what might happen if a supreme court judge just happened to be elected by a group hired by a man with money - billions of dollars, to be exact - and an agenda for winning a particular case.
I do not want to spoil the ending, and perhaps it is true that Grisham is making a political statement. Okay, so it's pretty obvious. Even if he is, so be it. He still tells a fast paced and satisfying story of the type that I had once come to expect from Grisham. And while the book deals with torts and mass tort litigation, unlike The King of Torts, the book has some meat on its bones.
Instead of decrying mass tort litigation involving large corporations (product manufacturers, pharmaceutical companies and the like), Grisham delves into the one on one cases where such companies should be held liable for polluting the water and creating dangerous products in cases involving just one plaintiff. Tort litigation is the seedy underbelly of the law. Still, there are several law suits out there - think Erin Brockovich - that deserve attention in our courts. Huge conglomerates should be held responsible when they skirt the law and poison the water, create dangerous drugs, or manufacture products that are unsafe.
Of course, you want the bad guy to get his due here. Maybe he does and maybe he doesn't. But Grisham leaves the reader feeling uncomfortable and perhaps a little guilty for playing into the game of big political campaign spending...naively believing everything one hears on t.v. about a candidate and his or her record based on a thirty-second commercial that takes sound bites completely out of the context in which they were meant to be be heard. He even makes one a bit uncomfortable with the idea the a judiciary is elected and that a judge would feel beholden to those who paid for his or her election. And in the end, I liked that he gave me something to think about.
It reminded me of The Client and The Rainmaker, and that is a good thing.
View all my reviews
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Five Random Things...Sunday
I think my five random things is happening just randomly. Here goes.
1. I've been watching a lot of baseball. I do not think I've ever watched so much baseball in my life. I'm loving it. And it reminds me of a date many years ago with a very nice young man - Crispin. He took me to my first professional game at Camden Yards. I don't remember who the Orioles played, but I remember I loved it then, too. Baseball playoffs are now on my list of fall faves.
2. I went to a bonfire last night. It was good. Boys were there. I don't see enough boys in my life. And there were some nice girls. I need some friends and a social life. Today I went to a singles ward. Also a good thing to do. More social...more meeting people. I can wish my life were different, but the fact is, I am single. And I need a social life. Period. It was good to see the start of something new in my life.
3. Winter is coming. Just saying. I'm not sure I'm too happy about it. I didn't expect any more long winters. I expected a Texas winter - which, in general, is mild. Hmmm...I don't think the Utah winter will be mild. But, while it lasts, I will try to just appreciate the cool, beautiful fall. The mountains are popping with color right now, and it's nothing short of amazing. Always makes me grateful to the good graces of God who blesses us with such beauty.
4. I can't stop thinking about Unbroken and how timing isn't ours to decide. We don't get to choose when or even how trials end. Zamperini must have wished over and over that he would be freed from the prison camp, that the war would end, and that he would come home. For so long he had to wake up to starvation, hard labor, and torture. He could not make the war end. And so that is what I really learned. The only thing I have that is mine? Hope.
5. I think I know why I moved to Utah. I had a fun life in Texas. I made good friends, and I had a decent social life. Not great, but good. The real problem? My friends weren't single. And I shouldn't say that is a problem - I'm happy to have friends, married or single. I don't discriminate. But I need single friends. It's strange - I didn't expect this at this stage in my life. But recognizing this need for a social life might be the thing that saves me...that wakes me up and gets me back in the game.
1. I've been watching a lot of baseball. I do not think I've ever watched so much baseball in my life. I'm loving it. And it reminds me of a date many years ago with a very nice young man - Crispin. He took me to my first professional game at Camden Yards. I don't remember who the Orioles played, but I remember I loved it then, too. Baseball playoffs are now on my list of fall faves.
2. I went to a bonfire last night. It was good. Boys were there. I don't see enough boys in my life. And there were some nice girls. I need some friends and a social life. Today I went to a singles ward. Also a good thing to do. More social...more meeting people. I can wish my life were different, but the fact is, I am single. And I need a social life. Period. It was good to see the start of something new in my life.
3. Winter is coming. Just saying. I'm not sure I'm too happy about it. I didn't expect any more long winters. I expected a Texas winter - which, in general, is mild. Hmmm...I don't think the Utah winter will be mild. But, while it lasts, I will try to just appreciate the cool, beautiful fall. The mountains are popping with color right now, and it's nothing short of amazing. Always makes me grateful to the good graces of God who blesses us with such beauty.
4. I can't stop thinking about Unbroken and how timing isn't ours to decide. We don't get to choose when or even how trials end. Zamperini must have wished over and over that he would be freed from the prison camp, that the war would end, and that he would come home. For so long he had to wake up to starvation, hard labor, and torture. He could not make the war end. And so that is what I really learned. The only thing I have that is mine? Hope.
5. I think I know why I moved to Utah. I had a fun life in Texas. I made good friends, and I had a decent social life. Not great, but good. The real problem? My friends weren't single. And I shouldn't say that is a problem - I'm happy to have friends, married or single. I don't discriminate. But I need single friends. It's strange - I didn't expect this at this stage in my life. But recognizing this need for a social life might be the thing that saves me...that wakes me up and gets me back in the game.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Uncommon Criminals
I told you I was on a roll...and here is my next book review. Two book reviews in a row!!! And the third for this week. I am getting it done!
Uncommon Criminals by Ally Carter
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Ocean's Eleven or probably, since we are talking sequel, Ocean's Twelve, for the younger set. But I must qualify that statement now, since Ocean's Twelve was such a mess and I didn't love that movie. But this, this I did like. This was cute, clever, light, fun. I listened to it while I was either cleaning or working out. And let me say, it made both tasks much more enjoyable.
So Kat Bishop is back at it again - robbing the rich to give to the poor. Or rather, she's robbing the robbers to return the loot to its rightful owner. But this time Kat thinks she's playing Robin Hood when Kat might actually be playing right into the thief's hands. She's been tasked with stealing the Cleopatra Emerald, a gem that has been out of the public eye for over thirty years and AND that is rumored to be cursed. So will Kat and her crew take the risks necessary to return the emerald to its rightful owner even if the gem is supposed to bring bad luck?
It's easy to get on board with Kat's exploits. The story is fast and the heists are cleverly planned. I even liked this more than the first Heist Society novel because of the twist at the end. I wouldn't say that the actual plans for the robberies were rocket science, cutesy names aside (which I love, by the way). Still, Carter takes us on a series of twists and turns that lead to an exciting and unexpected end. I also really like this Visily Romani mystery. It ties the series together, and it has me anticipating the next book in the series. I want to figure out who this guy (or perhaps gal) really is.
I've made no secret that I'm a little tired the whole love triangle gimmick (hackneyed, really, if you ask me), and Carter is flirting with one. Besides I think that Kat clearly likes Hale and Hale clearly likes Kat so that no one else really stands a chance. Overall, I could do with a little less of the romantic drama between the two. I get it - the romance has to drag out a little to keep the reader's interest peaked, but at times it seems a little melodramatic and I got a bit tired of it. It's a sweet, budding relationship, though, so fair enough with the melodrama. I suppose it is to be expected.
Overall, it's great fun and it's clean. I appreciate that Carter recognizes age appropriate boundaries for her audience - tweens and teens. What could be better? Just good, clean thievery with a little romance mixed in.
View all my reviews
Uncommon Criminals by Ally CarterMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
Ocean's Eleven or probably, since we are talking sequel, Ocean's Twelve, for the younger set. But I must qualify that statement now, since Ocean's Twelve was such a mess and I didn't love that movie. But this, this I did like. This was cute, clever, light, fun. I listened to it while I was either cleaning or working out. And let me say, it made both tasks much more enjoyable.
So Kat Bishop is back at it again - robbing the rich to give to the poor. Or rather, she's robbing the robbers to return the loot to its rightful owner. But this time Kat thinks she's playing Robin Hood when Kat might actually be playing right into the thief's hands. She's been tasked with stealing the Cleopatra Emerald, a gem that has been out of the public eye for over thirty years and AND that is rumored to be cursed. So will Kat and her crew take the risks necessary to return the emerald to its rightful owner even if the gem is supposed to bring bad luck?
It's easy to get on board with Kat's exploits. The story is fast and the heists are cleverly planned. I even liked this more than the first Heist Society novel because of the twist at the end. I wouldn't say that the actual plans for the robberies were rocket science, cutesy names aside (which I love, by the way). Still, Carter takes us on a series of twists and turns that lead to an exciting and unexpected end. I also really like this Visily Romani mystery. It ties the series together, and it has me anticipating the next book in the series. I want to figure out who this guy (or perhaps gal) really is.
I've made no secret that I'm a little tired the whole love triangle gimmick (hackneyed, really, if you ask me), and Carter is flirting with one. Besides I think that Kat clearly likes Hale and Hale clearly likes Kat so that no one else really stands a chance. Overall, I could do with a little less of the romantic drama between the two. I get it - the romance has to drag out a little to keep the reader's interest peaked, but at times it seems a little melodramatic and I got a bit tired of it. It's a sweet, budding relationship, though, so fair enough with the melodrama. I suppose it is to be expected.
Overall, it's great fun and it's clean. I appreciate that Carter recognizes age appropriate boundaries for her audience - tweens and teens. What could be better? Just good, clean thievery with a little romance mixed in.
View all my reviews
Friday, October 14, 2011
The King of Torts
Get ready for a slew of book reviews. I've got to catch up on my reading...I'm about four books behind on my goal for the year, so I'm gearing up for lots and lots of my favorite past time. And I'm choosing a few light, fluffy reads. Like this.
The King of Torts by John Grisham
My rating: 3 of 5 stars
Several years ago, I read everything John Grisham wrote. I guess, though, burnout set in, and after I read The Brethren, I was done with Grisham. I liked The Brethen enough. I guess. I just can't say that I remember it very well. In any case, I was tired of legal thrillers. Other than An Innocent Man, which doesn't really count because it is a true story, after all, I haven't read a Grisham novel for well over ten years.
And this was decent. But I'm thinking of stories like The Partner, The Firm, and The Pelican Brief. I might be suffering from memory loss - but the way I remember those stories is different than the way I think The King of Torts reads. I remember those first stories being intense and exciting. I remember that I couldn't stop reading because they were filled with clever plot twists.
The King of Torts isn't a thriller like those first Grisham novels. J. Clay Carter II is a lowly public defender in Washington, D.C. But his luck is about to change. When Carter decides to take a generous but shady offer and start up his own shop, he finds himself in the midst of very large mass tort litigation cases, and he is probably in over his head. He's making millions, hiring paralegals and attorneys left and right and buying expensive boats, jets, homes. In fact, he's spending it with reckless abandon while his personal life is spinning wildly out of control. But Mr. Carter takes comfort as he becomes the newly crowned "King of Torts."
Maybe this is why I didn't love it. It isn't the thriller I was expecting. But even more, I really detested torts in law school. Not because the reading wasn't interesting or even because they class discussions weren't engaging - they were. How can you not be interested in cases that include a dolt who saws off his fingers after ignoring clear and precise safety warnings placed all over his new saw and who then goes and sues the manufacturer anyway? It's a train wreck, and you can't turn away from it. But the sleaziness of such nonsense...I mean what lawyer takes a case like that...it just never sat right with me. However, these tort lawyers, they are something else; they are the epitome of every shark lawyer joke ever made. Very stock...I really don't believe every tort attorney is this low. And several do really good work for people who deserve compensation. Mr. Carter and his new pals are not doing such work.
And as Mr. Carter slips further into the morass of mass tort litigation, he finds his moorings slipping right along with is personal life. I wanted to think more of Carter, but since I didn't really see what kind of guy he was before - he actually seemed like kind of a jerk from the beginning - I wasn't surprised to watch his fall. I think if Grisham wanted me to feel any sympathy for him, Carter needed to be more sympathetic from the start. Classic lack of character development.
However, the story was engaging enough and the twist at the end was interesting, if a bit predictable, kind of. And I did appreciate the angle it took on mass tort litigation. Is it abusive even if a drug company manufactures a dangerous drug? Shouldn't lawyers know who they represent rather than file mass cases for thousands of individuals they have never met face to face? I'd never given it much thought, but I have now, and it doesn't sit quite right with me.
It isn't my favorite Grisham, but it was good. And I'm now reading The Appeal, so...I guess I'm sort of on a Grisham kick.
View all my reviews
The King of Torts by John GrishamMy rating: 3 of 5 stars
Several years ago, I read everything John Grisham wrote. I guess, though, burnout set in, and after I read The Brethren, I was done with Grisham. I liked The Brethen enough. I guess. I just can't say that I remember it very well. In any case, I was tired of legal thrillers. Other than An Innocent Man, which doesn't really count because it is a true story, after all, I haven't read a Grisham novel for well over ten years.
And this was decent. But I'm thinking of stories like The Partner, The Firm, and The Pelican Brief. I might be suffering from memory loss - but the way I remember those stories is different than the way I think The King of Torts reads. I remember those first stories being intense and exciting. I remember that I couldn't stop reading because they were filled with clever plot twists.
The King of Torts isn't a thriller like those first Grisham novels. J. Clay Carter II is a lowly public defender in Washington, D.C. But his luck is about to change. When Carter decides to take a generous but shady offer and start up his own shop, he finds himself in the midst of very large mass tort litigation cases, and he is probably in over his head. He's making millions, hiring paralegals and attorneys left and right and buying expensive boats, jets, homes. In fact, he's spending it with reckless abandon while his personal life is spinning wildly out of control. But Mr. Carter takes comfort as he becomes the newly crowned "King of Torts."
Maybe this is why I didn't love it. It isn't the thriller I was expecting. But even more, I really detested torts in law school. Not because the reading wasn't interesting or even because they class discussions weren't engaging - they were. How can you not be interested in cases that include a dolt who saws off his fingers after ignoring clear and precise safety warnings placed all over his new saw and who then goes and sues the manufacturer anyway? It's a train wreck, and you can't turn away from it. But the sleaziness of such nonsense...I mean what lawyer takes a case like that...it just never sat right with me. However, these tort lawyers, they are something else; they are the epitome of every shark lawyer joke ever made. Very stock...I really don't believe every tort attorney is this low. And several do really good work for people who deserve compensation. Mr. Carter and his new pals are not doing such work.
And as Mr. Carter slips further into the morass of mass tort litigation, he finds his moorings slipping right along with is personal life. I wanted to think more of Carter, but since I didn't really see what kind of guy he was before - he actually seemed like kind of a jerk from the beginning - I wasn't surprised to watch his fall. I think if Grisham wanted me to feel any sympathy for him, Carter needed to be more sympathetic from the start. Classic lack of character development.
However, the story was engaging enough and the twist at the end was interesting, if a bit predictable, kind of. And I did appreciate the angle it took on mass tort litigation. Is it abusive even if a drug company manufactures a dangerous drug? Shouldn't lawyers know who they represent rather than file mass cases for thousands of individuals they have never met face to face? I'd never given it much thought, but I have now, and it doesn't sit quite right with me.
It isn't my favorite Grisham, but it was good. And I'm now reading The Appeal, so...I guess I'm sort of on a Grisham kick.
View all my reviews
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Perspective
I was watching the Cardinals play the Brewers tonight. And I realized I had been seeing something entirely wrong and once I realized that I was seeing it incorrectly, the visual made so much more sense.
So you're watching the game on t.v., and when someone is at bat, a graphic comes up on the bottom, right corner of the screen. The graphic is there to show you the strike zone so that when the pitcher throws the ball, you know right away where the ball was thrown and can see if it is strike or a ball. It's actually great because obviously pitchers throw fast, and so it is difficult for an untrained eye to see exactly where the ball goes. I really like it, is what I am saying.
BUT...all along I've been looking at that graphic as one a one dimensional representation of the strike zone. I thought it was sitting flat over home plate, and that as a t.v. viewer, I was seeing the strike zone from above home plate looking down. Then tonight as I was enjoying the game, I thought how silly that graphic was because instead of showing when a pitch fell below the strike zone, it looked like the ball was not making it to the plate. That just doesn't happen in baseball. Pitchers don't lob the ball and watch it fall before it makes it past the batter.
And then it dawned on me. It doesn't depict the strike zone as seen from the ground. It depicts the strike zone as seen from the pitcher's perspective...where the actual strike zone exists, above the plate. You would think that the graphic of home plate below the strike zone would have alerted me to the fact that we were looking at the strike zone head on, not from the sky down, but nope, I guess I'm not super observant.
Suddenly the graphic made much more sense. I mean, I got it before, of course. Balls shown on the graphic were either inside or outside the strike zone, so you can tell a strike from a ball. But once I realized that I was seeing it all wrong, the picture became so much clearer for me.
Anyway, isn't that just like life? We think we see something correctly, but that is because we aren't paying attention to all the details. We are focusing so closely on one part of the picture, that we don't see the picture in its entirety. Those other details put the whole thing in perspective and help us to see what we see correctly. You might think you get it, but you are oblivious. For several weeks I've been watching play off games. And for several weeks, I've been missing it. It just makes me wonder what else I am missing because I'm not looking at all the details and seeing the picture whole and complete. Simple lesson: back up and look at the whole thing before you decide you know what you are seeing.
So you're watching the game on t.v., and when someone is at bat, a graphic comes up on the bottom, right corner of the screen. The graphic is there to show you the strike zone so that when the pitcher throws the ball, you know right away where the ball was thrown and can see if it is strike or a ball. It's actually great because obviously pitchers throw fast, and so it is difficult for an untrained eye to see exactly where the ball goes. I really like it, is what I am saying.
BUT...all along I've been looking at that graphic as one a one dimensional representation of the strike zone. I thought it was sitting flat over home plate, and that as a t.v. viewer, I was seeing the strike zone from above home plate looking down. Then tonight as I was enjoying the game, I thought how silly that graphic was because instead of showing when a pitch fell below the strike zone, it looked like the ball was not making it to the plate. That just doesn't happen in baseball. Pitchers don't lob the ball and watch it fall before it makes it past the batter.
And then it dawned on me. It doesn't depict the strike zone as seen from the ground. It depicts the strike zone as seen from the pitcher's perspective...where the actual strike zone exists, above the plate. You would think that the graphic of home plate below the strike zone would have alerted me to the fact that we were looking at the strike zone head on, not from the sky down, but nope, I guess I'm not super observant.
Suddenly the graphic made much more sense. I mean, I got it before, of course. Balls shown on the graphic were either inside or outside the strike zone, so you can tell a strike from a ball. But once I realized that I was seeing it all wrong, the picture became so much clearer for me.
Anyway, isn't that just like life? We think we see something correctly, but that is because we aren't paying attention to all the details. We are focusing so closely on one part of the picture, that we don't see the picture in its entirety. Those other details put the whole thing in perspective and help us to see what we see correctly. You might think you get it, but you are oblivious. For several weeks I've been watching play off games. And for several weeks, I've been missing it. It just makes me wonder what else I am missing because I'm not looking at all the details and seeing the picture whole and complete. Simple lesson: back up and look at the whole thing before you decide you know what you are seeing.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Working It Out!
So last week was this really brilliant week as far as sugar goes. I was off of the sauce and doing well. This week, not so much. I had some delightful pumpkin pie on Saturday night and, well, I have really really had a struggle getting myself back off again.
But, seeing as something is going right, I figure why not focus on the positive? And this is what is going right. So while living with Zeb and Leah, I was introduced to boot camp style work outs. Leah teaches these workouts with our friend Whitney. So I did a few with the gals. They are brutal. And I decided that I am perfectly capable of doing them on my own. My parents' house is the perfect place for such workouts because they have stairs.
This is what I do. I call it the one minute workout. I do one minute of something aerobic. For example, I run up and down the stairs for a full minute. Then I do one minute of something weight related, like bicep curls. Then it's back to the aerobic activity for a minute. Some days I only do stairs for the aerobic portion. Some days I alternate between jumping jacks, sliders, stairs and windmills. Of course, the weight related activity is always different. It is a serious workout. I always come away sweating. This week, my goal is to do it five days in a row. Two days in thus far, and feeling good.
But, seeing as something is going right, I figure why not focus on the positive? And this is what is going right. So while living with Zeb and Leah, I was introduced to boot camp style work outs. Leah teaches these workouts with our friend Whitney. So I did a few with the gals. They are brutal. And I decided that I am perfectly capable of doing them on my own. My parents' house is the perfect place for such workouts because they have stairs.
This is what I do. I call it the one minute workout. I do one minute of something aerobic. For example, I run up and down the stairs for a full minute. Then I do one minute of something weight related, like bicep curls. Then it's back to the aerobic activity for a minute. Some days I only do stairs for the aerobic portion. Some days I alternate between jumping jacks, sliders, stairs and windmills. Of course, the weight related activity is always different. It is a serious workout. I always come away sweating. This week, my goal is to do it five days in a row. Two days in thus far, and feeling good.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Unbroken
Normally I do a review on Goodreads and paste my review here. But today my review of Unbroken was short. I thought it was better that way because, well, I don't want people having any sort of impression about the book based on what I had to say about it. I think some books are best read cold.
But I have just a few things to say about it here:
1. When, in the midst of a mind-numbingly painful forty-seven days lost at sea, Louis Zamperini and Allen Phillips reach the doldrums, I thought of the brilliance and beauty of nature. How can two men survive such an ordeal? In the most dire of moments, God provided. He provided a bird or a fish or a rainstorm. I suppose you could say it was the luck of the draw. I don't believe that. Perhaps that belief is a choice. If so, it is a choice I choose to make.
But in an even more critical way than just nourishment, God provided. Zamperini was able to find peace in that moment when they reached the doldrums...when he looked out to see the grandeur of creation. God provides for both our physical and or spiritual needs. Always. This story is proof. The circumstances are dire. I would be hard pressed to think of anything more critical then being lost at sea without food or water. Those men had to wait, often being pushed to their extreme limits, before what was needed. But what they needed did come. Beautiful.
2. Christ saves. After more than two years of harsh punishment and starvation, Zamperini survives the Japanese POW camps. That alone was a miracle. But I think the better story is what came after. Filled with rage and a deep seeded desire for revenge, Zamperini turned to alcohol. He was entirely out of control, about to lose his wife and new daughter, when his wife found Christ. Billy Graham came to California. After much convincing, Zamperini was led to one of his sermons. The first experience didn't work out so well. But the second..in the second he experienced the miracle.
In the second trip to one of Graham's sermons, Zamperini found Christ. He remembered the promise he made on the raft several years before. He promised to serve God every day of his life if God would save him. And in the moment, he knew that he, Zamperini, had not kept up his part of the bargain. Zamperini was changed. He was able to forgive his tormentors. He was able to give up alcohol. He was even able to greet several of his POW torturers and embrace them. How else could he have done that without the grace of Christ?
3. I know plenty of people didn't survive plane crashes in World War II, and I know that several thousand POWs in Japan didn't live through the war. So it might be easy to say that life is just random and you get lucky or you don't get lucky. However, just because some died and some lived is not evidence in my mind that God didn't guide Zamperini and others like him through this ordeal. Who knows why Zamperini lived? I chose to believe it is because he would tell his story, and his story would serve God by giving other people hope. Maybe that is...I don't know...cheesy, silly, childish, naive, and/or unsophisticated of me. It really doesn't matter.
I still chose to believe.
But I have just a few things to say about it here:
1. When, in the midst of a mind-numbingly painful forty-seven days lost at sea, Louis Zamperini and Allen Phillips reach the doldrums, I thought of the brilliance and beauty of nature. How can two men survive such an ordeal? In the most dire of moments, God provided. He provided a bird or a fish or a rainstorm. I suppose you could say it was the luck of the draw. I don't believe that. Perhaps that belief is a choice. If so, it is a choice I choose to make.
But in an even more critical way than just nourishment, God provided. Zamperini was able to find peace in that moment when they reached the doldrums...when he looked out to see the grandeur of creation. God provides for both our physical and or spiritual needs. Always. This story is proof. The circumstances are dire. I would be hard pressed to think of anything more critical then being lost at sea without food or water. Those men had to wait, often being pushed to their extreme limits, before what was needed. But what they needed did come. Beautiful.
2. Christ saves. After more than two years of harsh punishment and starvation, Zamperini survives the Japanese POW camps. That alone was a miracle. But I think the better story is what came after. Filled with rage and a deep seeded desire for revenge, Zamperini turned to alcohol. He was entirely out of control, about to lose his wife and new daughter, when his wife found Christ. Billy Graham came to California. After much convincing, Zamperini was led to one of his sermons. The first experience didn't work out so well. But the second..in the second he experienced the miracle.
In the second trip to one of Graham's sermons, Zamperini found Christ. He remembered the promise he made on the raft several years before. He promised to serve God every day of his life if God would save him. And in the moment, he knew that he, Zamperini, had not kept up his part of the bargain. Zamperini was changed. He was able to forgive his tormentors. He was able to give up alcohol. He was even able to greet several of his POW torturers and embrace them. How else could he have done that without the grace of Christ?
3. I know plenty of people didn't survive plane crashes in World War II, and I know that several thousand POWs in Japan didn't live through the war. So it might be easy to say that life is just random and you get lucky or you don't get lucky. However, just because some died and some lived is not evidence in my mind that God didn't guide Zamperini and others like him through this ordeal. Who knows why Zamperini lived? I chose to believe it is because he would tell his story, and his story would serve God by giving other people hope. Maybe that is...I don't know...cheesy, silly, childish, naive, and/or unsophisticated of me. It really doesn't matter.
I still chose to believe.
Monday, October 10, 2011
A Favorite Thing
I just can't think of anything to write. I just can't. So I'm going review a book that I've read at least four times. I think. Maybe five, but I cannot verify that. Without further ado...the book is...A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.
So the question is, why? Why would I read it that many times when there are so many many lovely books out there that I haven't read? It's just that good. It's beautifully written, of course. But there are a lot of books that are beautifully written. It's a story about coming of age, again a genre that I adore. It spans over a decade. I love stories that encompass a large span of time...if done well, of course.
But while all that is nice, I don't think those things are the reason I love the book or why it is one of my top three books. Probably top two, coming in a close second only to Jane Eyre which is, after all, the greatest book ever written in the English language. This is the reason I think I love it so much. I grew up in a very small town in Utah. I grew up, actually, outside the town in a farming community called Leland. My best friend lived about a half a mile away, and she was my only playmate unless a cousin (or two) was living with Grandma and Grandpa Fish. And I was born in 1975. My parents were (and are, for that matter) happily married, and I have six siblings. Ours was a stable, happy home.
In other words, I have nothing really in common with Francie Nolan. Except this. I grew up poor-ish. But if I think about Francie Nolan's story, I have to admit that I didn't know poverty because I never went hungry, never worried about freezing in the cold of the winter, never gathered soda cans to get pennies so that I could help pay for rent. And yet...even if we have nothing in common, I felt like I was Francie in Brooklyn during the Great Depression. I related to everything about her life.
My life could not have been more opposite. Brooklyn in the 1930s is not Smalltown Utah in the 1980s. Not even close. Obviously. And even though her life was filled with poverty and hardship, the story made me want to be Francie Nolan. How can that be? How can an author write a story in one era that speaks to generations of readers? Because Betty Smith is nothing short of a genius, that's why!
I admit this is not much of a review...still, if you get a chance to read it, I think you will love it. Really. LOVE it! So go read it!
So the question is, why? Why would I read it that many times when there are so many many lovely books out there that I haven't read? It's just that good. It's beautifully written, of course. But there are a lot of books that are beautifully written. It's a story about coming of age, again a genre that I adore. It spans over a decade. I love stories that encompass a large span of time...if done well, of course.
But while all that is nice, I don't think those things are the reason I love the book or why it is one of my top three books. Probably top two, coming in a close second only to Jane Eyre which is, after all, the greatest book ever written in the English language. This is the reason I think I love it so much. I grew up in a very small town in Utah. I grew up, actually, outside the town in a farming community called Leland. My best friend lived about a half a mile away, and she was my only playmate unless a cousin (or two) was living with Grandma and Grandpa Fish. And I was born in 1975. My parents were (and are, for that matter) happily married, and I have six siblings. Ours was a stable, happy home.
In other words, I have nothing really in common with Francie Nolan. Except this. I grew up poor-ish. But if I think about Francie Nolan's story, I have to admit that I didn't know poverty because I never went hungry, never worried about freezing in the cold of the winter, never gathered soda cans to get pennies so that I could help pay for rent. And yet...even if we have nothing in common, I felt like I was Francie in Brooklyn during the Great Depression. I related to everything about her life.
My life could not have been more opposite. Brooklyn in the 1930s is not Smalltown Utah in the 1980s. Not even close. Obviously. And even though her life was filled with poverty and hardship, the story made me want to be Francie Nolan. How can that be? How can an author write a story in one era that speaks to generations of readers? Because Betty Smith is nothing short of a genius, that's why!
I admit this is not much of a review...still, if you get a chance to read it, I think you will love it. Really. LOVE it! So go read it!
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Hope and Timing
Have you heard about the book Unbroken? I'm in the middle of reading it. Quite the story, and a true story at that, I must tell you. Fits the analogy of feeling left out and lost from God that I've been feeling of late. Of course, a review is to come, but I couldn't resist saying a thing or two about hope and timing.
First...the hope. So there were three men, stranded and adrift on the ocean in two life rafts. Two of them were close friends...the best of friends, really. One was a new comer when The Green Hornet, their plane, took off to sea in search of another lost flight. The Green Hornet lost power to its engines and crashed. The three men on the raft were the only survivors.
They'd been out in the water for a while...and the two friends were doing well, all things taken into consideration. But the third man was struggling. This is what Laura Hillenbrand, author says, of their hope for survival. "Given the dismal record of raft-bound men, Mac's despair was reasonable." In other words, most men who survived a crash into the ocean during World War II, didn't stand a very good chance of surviving. She goes on to say, "What is remarkable is that the two men who shared Mac's plight didn't share his hopelessness....Though they both knew that they were in an extremely serious situation, both had the ability to warn fear way from their thoughts, focusing instead on how to survive and reassuring themselves that things would work out" (147).
And then this: "Though all three men faced the same hardship, their differing perceptions of it appeard to be shaping their fates. Louie and Phil's hope displaced their fear and inspired them to work toward their survival, and each success renewed their physical and emotional vigor. Mac's resignation seemed to paralyze him, and the less he participated in their efforts to survive, the more he slipped. Though he did the least, as days passed, it was he who faded the most. Louie and Phil's optimism, and Mac's hopelessness, were becoming self-fulfilling."
I have felt demoralized and alone and adrift, and wouldn't you know that this story contained the message I needed to hear? This couldn't come at a more needed time for me. It was thinking about the future and seeing hope in its possibilities that kept Louie and Phil going. But the more Mac allowed himself to dwell on the direness of their circumstances, the further he drifted from the possibility of a survival.
I haven't finished the story, and I don't know who survives, besides Louie. I really want Phil to have gone home to his sweetheart, Cecy. I want him to have had a family. And I wonder if it is because I feel Phil's hope and I feel Mac's despair that makes me really really cheer for Phil. Don't get me wrong. I hope that they all made it. But it is easier to cheer for the guys who were hopeful.
So I have to ask myself if I am hopeful. Am I acting like I have hope for the future or am I just allowing despair to dictate my fate?
And now for timing. I will probably never be lost at sea without provisions for a month. But I think this story proves that what we tell ourselves matters. We may face difficult hardships and not know when they will end. But it's good to have hope for a bright, happy future, even when we don't know when the time will come for the hardship to be over. Timing isn't ours. We don't get to choose when a problem will come to an end. Those men adrift on that life raft didn't know when it would be over. But two of them had hope.
So timing isn't everything. It's something, but hope is something, too. And I think, if we are talking about the two together, hope supersedes timing. It is the thing that we can hold on to when we are adrift and we don't know when it will end. In fact, I think I would say that hope is everything.
First...the hope. So there were three men, stranded and adrift on the ocean in two life rafts. Two of them were close friends...the best of friends, really. One was a new comer when The Green Hornet, their plane, took off to sea in search of another lost flight. The Green Hornet lost power to its engines and crashed. The three men on the raft were the only survivors.
They'd been out in the water for a while...and the two friends were doing well, all things taken into consideration. But the third man was struggling. This is what Laura Hillenbrand, author says, of their hope for survival. "Given the dismal record of raft-bound men, Mac's despair was reasonable." In other words, most men who survived a crash into the ocean during World War II, didn't stand a very good chance of surviving. She goes on to say, "What is remarkable is that the two men who shared Mac's plight didn't share his hopelessness....Though they both knew that they were in an extremely serious situation, both had the ability to warn fear way from their thoughts, focusing instead on how to survive and reassuring themselves that things would work out" (147).
And then this: "Though all three men faced the same hardship, their differing perceptions of it appeard to be shaping their fates. Louie and Phil's hope displaced their fear and inspired them to work toward their survival, and each success renewed their physical and emotional vigor. Mac's resignation seemed to paralyze him, and the less he participated in their efforts to survive, the more he slipped. Though he did the least, as days passed, it was he who faded the most. Louie and Phil's optimism, and Mac's hopelessness, were becoming self-fulfilling."
I have felt demoralized and alone and adrift, and wouldn't you know that this story contained the message I needed to hear? This couldn't come at a more needed time for me. It was thinking about the future and seeing hope in its possibilities that kept Louie and Phil going. But the more Mac allowed himself to dwell on the direness of their circumstances, the further he drifted from the possibility of a survival.
I haven't finished the story, and I don't know who survives, besides Louie. I really want Phil to have gone home to his sweetheart, Cecy. I want him to have had a family. And I wonder if it is because I feel Phil's hope and I feel Mac's despair that makes me really really cheer for Phil. Don't get me wrong. I hope that they all made it. But it is easier to cheer for the guys who were hopeful.
So I have to ask myself if I am hopeful. Am I acting like I have hope for the future or am I just allowing despair to dictate my fate?
And now for timing. I will probably never be lost at sea without provisions for a month. But I think this story proves that what we tell ourselves matters. We may face difficult hardships and not know when they will end. But it's good to have hope for a bright, happy future, even when we don't know when the time will come for the hardship to be over. Timing isn't ours. We don't get to choose when a problem will come to an end. Those men adrift on that life raft didn't know when it would be over. But two of them had hope.
So timing isn't everything. It's something, but hope is something, too. And I think, if we are talking about the two together, hope supersedes timing. It is the thing that we can hold on to when we are adrift and we don't know when it will end. In fact, I think I would say that hope is everything.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Too Much
"Too much t.v. will rot your brain."
I wonder if it's true. I think it probably is. Just as I think that too much internet will rot your brain. I often wonder what these passive activities do to our minds. And today I've had too much. Too much t.v., especially. Everyone but me is gone. And I think I do not like the silence, so the t.v. has been all all day long. That's a long time for the t.v. to be on. Especially since I couldn't really even find something that I was really really interested in watching. Sort of a ginormous waste of time. However, since tomorrow is fast Sunday, I think I will leave it off all day. A fast from television and food would do me some good.
But...Dawn did come over and we had pumpkin pie from Costco and watched the BYU game. BYU won!!! And that was not such a waste of time.
I wonder if it's true. I think it probably is. Just as I think that too much internet will rot your brain. I often wonder what these passive activities do to our minds. And today I've had too much. Too much t.v., especially. Everyone but me is gone. And I think I do not like the silence, so the t.v. has been all all day long. That's a long time for the t.v. to be on. Especially since I couldn't really even find something that I was really really interested in watching. Sort of a ginormous waste of time. However, since tomorrow is fast Sunday, I think I will leave it off all day. A fast from television and food would do me some good.
But...Dawn did come over and we had pumpkin pie from Costco and watched the BYU game. BYU won!!! And that was not such a waste of time.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Five Random Things...Friday Part II
I think the random list is just going to have to happen when I remember it. Besides, I finished a book yesterday, and book reviews take precedence.
Anyways...
1. I love fall. I love lots of things about it; in particular, I love pumpkin desserts. But wouldn't you know it? I'm on a no junk food kick again, so this week, I haven't had any treats of any sort. Tomorrow is my cheat day. And you better believe I'm looking forward to some treats...in particular? Perhaps a pumpkin shake? Maybe?
2. It has been coooooold up here in these parts. There is now snow on the mountains. And while I think it is beautiful, I am not quite ready. I want to go on a hike up in the hills. But it might not happen now that the weather has taken such a turn. It's also has me craving hot chocolate - BUT see above!
3. I just got Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand. Can't wait to dig into it.
4. I'm craving a scary story - a slightly scary story. But the problem is that my mom, dad and nephew are all out of town starting tomorrow. I'll be home alone for at least a few days. I think it is ill advised for me to get myself scared while I'm all by my lonesome because then I'm by myself imagining all sorts of horrors and things that go bump in the night. Why is it that another person in the house comforts you when you are afraid? Like bad things don't happen when there is more than one person home? Ghosts don't come around if you have company? Still, all in all, a bad choice to go freaking myself out.
5. I miss having a car. But Grandpa A is letting me borrow his truck while everyone is out of town. Super sweet of him, right? I think so. Grandpa A is the cutest grandpa alive. Anyway, it's nice to have a ride and such. But I really really like that it's a stick shift. I know I said I never wanted one again, and I probably don't because automatics are just easier, especially when it comes to traffic. But still, I sort of love driving one.
The end.
Anyways...
1. I love fall. I love lots of things about it; in particular, I love pumpkin desserts. But wouldn't you know it? I'm on a no junk food kick again, so this week, I haven't had any treats of any sort. Tomorrow is my cheat day. And you better believe I'm looking forward to some treats...in particular? Perhaps a pumpkin shake? Maybe?
2. It has been coooooold up here in these parts. There is now snow on the mountains. And while I think it is beautiful, I am not quite ready. I want to go on a hike up in the hills. But it might not happen now that the weather has taken such a turn. It's also has me craving hot chocolate - BUT see above!
3. I just got Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand. Can't wait to dig into it.
4. I'm craving a scary story - a slightly scary story. But the problem is that my mom, dad and nephew are all out of town starting tomorrow. I'll be home alone for at least a few days. I think it is ill advised for me to get myself scared while I'm all by my lonesome because then I'm by myself imagining all sorts of horrors and things that go bump in the night. Why is it that another person in the house comforts you when you are afraid? Like bad things don't happen when there is more than one person home? Ghosts don't come around if you have company? Still, all in all, a bad choice to go freaking myself out.
5. I miss having a car. But Grandpa A is letting me borrow his truck while everyone is out of town. Super sweet of him, right? I think so. Grandpa A is the cutest grandpa alive. Anyway, it's nice to have a ride and such. But I really really like that it's a stick shift. I know I said I never wanted one again, and I probably don't because automatics are just easier, especially when it comes to traffic. But still, I sort of love driving one.
The end.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
On Writing
Here is my ever so unexpected ode to one Mr. Stephen King. Enjoy.
On Writing by Stephen King
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Well color me all sorts of surprised. I've never read anything, not a paragraph, not a sentence, not a single word that Stephen King has ever written until now. I don't like the horror genre. Mostly because I really don't enjoy being scared, at least not too much, anyway. A little chill from a mild mannered ghost story never hurt me, of course, but my perception of Stephen King was entirely prejudice. I admit it. I heard enough rumors about It, Carrie and The Shining, so I put King in a category labeled "untouchable" and left him there.
My sister actually recommended the book after she and her husband read it. He's in a creative writing class...so, it landed in my lap last week. She told me he was funny and had some really good advice for wanna-be writers like yours truly. And I figured, whatever, can't hurt, right? No indeed. It did not hurt me at all.
Normally I would find a book about how to write a bit...well...counter-intuitive, if you know what I mean. If someone has to tell you how to write, then writing might not be your thing. However, this is not an instructional manual. Sure he instructs and sure he talks about style. But he does a lot...a LOT, a lot...more than just that.
Let's start at the beginning, shall we? King first regales his audience with stories from his misspent youth. And his life story is endearing. In fact, I'm quite sure had Mr. King and I grown up next door to each other, I would have wanted to be pals. Besides being full of adventure, King was curious, smart and worked hard. All these things are traits that I respect. He tells the story of his life in a way that lets us inside his mind. We get a small glimpse of what fueled his later writing career. And he tells us how he started that career - the encouragement from his wife was priceless. I think anyone can become anything they want to be with a cheerleader like Tabitha King. And oh how he does love his wife. Some really romantic stuff going on here...and no, I am not talking about a Nicholas Sparks novel. I'm talking about real romance between two real live people. So there I was, reading this book, learning about how Stephen King became the Stephen King and cooing over his marriage. It is good stuff, folks.
Then he gives you the "instruction manual"...if I must label it. In King's words, the tools of the trade, the elements of style, how to edit, the ins and outs of publishing. Lots and lots of practical, straight forward advice. I don't have to recount the credibility of a writer as proliferate as King is. I know that. Like his work or not, he clearly has experience, and decades of it, to boot. This isn't a treatise on how to write horror stories anyway, so if that isn't your schtick, and it isn't mine, don't worry. His advice is still good. He doesn't preach like it's gospel, and he is completely willing to call out his own faults in his own writing. He gives concrete examples, explains things that don't work (as a rule...and there are always ALWAYS exceptions to rules), and then moves on to the next topic. Trust me, it isn't dry or boring. The man has voice. And it came through in each section of the book. But really, what I loved about this section was his ability to encourage. I honestly finished it, and thought, Yes...YES I CAN! And a big THANKS Mr. King from me to you. I needed that.
Lastly, he tells you a little ditty about his near death when a van hit him in 1999. I actually cried during this section. First of all, I felt like Mr. King and I had become pretty good friends at this point. What with him spilling the dirt on his childhood and falling in love with his wife and all. And then becoming my personal coach and cheerleader. How inspiring is it when I guy nearly gets ripped apart by a van and he comes back and starts to write again. This is a guy who has been to hell and back in more than one way. He's a good husband and father. He's a comeback kid. He's a writer. And if you want to be a writer, I recommend it. Not just because he'll give you good advice or show you how it's done. More because I think he honestly cares about humanity and about the craft. And if you want to read a really really great memoir, you can skip the writing advice and just learn about the master of horror. I think you'll be delightfully caught of guard. I know I was.
View all my reviews
On Writing by Stephen KingMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
Well color me all sorts of surprised. I've never read anything, not a paragraph, not a sentence, not a single word that Stephen King has ever written until now. I don't like the horror genre. Mostly because I really don't enjoy being scared, at least not too much, anyway. A little chill from a mild mannered ghost story never hurt me, of course, but my perception of Stephen King was entirely prejudice. I admit it. I heard enough rumors about It, Carrie and The Shining, so I put King in a category labeled "untouchable" and left him there.
My sister actually recommended the book after she and her husband read it. He's in a creative writing class...so, it landed in my lap last week. She told me he was funny and had some really good advice for wanna-be writers like yours truly. And I figured, whatever, can't hurt, right? No indeed. It did not hurt me at all.
Normally I would find a book about how to write a bit...well...counter-intuitive, if you know what I mean. If someone has to tell you how to write, then writing might not be your thing. However, this is not an instructional manual. Sure he instructs and sure he talks about style. But he does a lot...a LOT, a lot...more than just that.
Let's start at the beginning, shall we? King first regales his audience with stories from his misspent youth. And his life story is endearing. In fact, I'm quite sure had Mr. King and I grown up next door to each other, I would have wanted to be pals. Besides being full of adventure, King was curious, smart and worked hard. All these things are traits that I respect. He tells the story of his life in a way that lets us inside his mind. We get a small glimpse of what fueled his later writing career. And he tells us how he started that career - the encouragement from his wife was priceless. I think anyone can become anything they want to be with a cheerleader like Tabitha King. And oh how he does love his wife. Some really romantic stuff going on here...and no, I am not talking about a Nicholas Sparks novel. I'm talking about real romance between two real live people. So there I was, reading this book, learning about how Stephen King became the Stephen King and cooing over his marriage. It is good stuff, folks.
Then he gives you the "instruction manual"...if I must label it. In King's words, the tools of the trade, the elements of style, how to edit, the ins and outs of publishing. Lots and lots of practical, straight forward advice. I don't have to recount the credibility of a writer as proliferate as King is. I know that. Like his work or not, he clearly has experience, and decades of it, to boot. This isn't a treatise on how to write horror stories anyway, so if that isn't your schtick, and it isn't mine, don't worry. His advice is still good. He doesn't preach like it's gospel, and he is completely willing to call out his own faults in his own writing. He gives concrete examples, explains things that don't work (as a rule...and there are always ALWAYS exceptions to rules), and then moves on to the next topic. Trust me, it isn't dry or boring. The man has voice. And it came through in each section of the book. But really, what I loved about this section was his ability to encourage. I honestly finished it, and thought, Yes...YES I CAN! And a big THANKS Mr. King from me to you. I needed that.
Lastly, he tells you a little ditty about his near death when a van hit him in 1999. I actually cried during this section. First of all, I felt like Mr. King and I had become pretty good friends at this point. What with him spilling the dirt on his childhood and falling in love with his wife and all. And then becoming my personal coach and cheerleader. How inspiring is it when I guy nearly gets ripped apart by a van and he comes back and starts to write again. This is a guy who has been to hell and back in more than one way. He's a good husband and father. He's a comeback kid. He's a writer. And if you want to be a writer, I recommend it. Not just because he'll give you good advice or show you how it's done. More because I think he honestly cares about humanity and about the craft. And if you want to read a really really great memoir, you can skip the writing advice and just learn about the master of horror. I think you'll be delightfully caught of guard. I know I was.
View all my reviews
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
A Good Scare
I remember a night where my friends and I rented The Changeling, a 1980 movie about a man who goes to live in an old, mammoth sized mansion haunted by a long dead child. And oh was it creepy. I remember Adrienne and I clinging to each other and trying not to scream because, well, naturally we were terrified. Now I know what I said yesterday about scary stories. I. Don't. Like. Them. I really get scared...but Halloween is in the air. You know, Halloween!
There are many things I love about fall. I love the cool, crisp feel of the air, especially mountain air. It's renewing about taking a deep breath in October, particularly in Utah. Maybe not so much in Texas. I love football. I love watching football at Cougar Stadium in the fall. Mountain air, cheering crowd, a great game. It's awesome. I love crisp apples, hot chocolate, pumpkin themed deserts and caramel apple cider. Oh, and then there are MLB playoff games galore. So you can totally get your baseball fix. My favorite thing, of course, is the color of the season. It's transcendent beauty. Trees pop with color everywhere. Love!
But this creepy, scary Halloween thing? I don't know what goes on in my head. Every year October rolls around, and suddenly I want to be frightened. I hunt for scary novels on Goodreads. I look for scary shows on t.v. and sometimes even movies...which I am really really opposed to when in my right mind. I especially enjoyed ABC Family's series 13 Nights of Halloween. The funny thing is that if you asked me any other time of the year, I would not be looking for a good spooking. I'd be avoiding it. And really, I don't have great memories of Halloween, either. They aren't bad, but I didn't love Halloween like I loved Thanksgiving or Christmas...or even Valentine's or St. Patrick's Day.
Perhaps it is something in the cool, crisp air...the autumnal colors...the earlier night fall. Whatever it is, I want a good story to give me a little thrill of fear. So I am on the hunt. For something scary...but not too scary! After all, I did say a little thrill of fear. And all hail to fall...I love it!
There are many things I love about fall. I love the cool, crisp feel of the air, especially mountain air. It's renewing about taking a deep breath in October, particularly in Utah. Maybe not so much in Texas. I love football. I love watching football at Cougar Stadium in the fall. Mountain air, cheering crowd, a great game. It's awesome. I love crisp apples, hot chocolate, pumpkin themed deserts and caramel apple cider. Oh, and then there are MLB playoff games galore. So you can totally get your baseball fix. My favorite thing, of course, is the color of the season. It's transcendent beauty. Trees pop with color everywhere. Love!
But this creepy, scary Halloween thing? I don't know what goes on in my head. Every year October rolls around, and suddenly I want to be frightened. I hunt for scary novels on Goodreads. I look for scary shows on t.v. and sometimes even movies...which I am really really opposed to when in my right mind. I especially enjoyed ABC Family's series 13 Nights of Halloween. The funny thing is that if you asked me any other time of the year, I would not be looking for a good spooking. I'd be avoiding it. And really, I don't have great memories of Halloween, either. They aren't bad, but I didn't love Halloween like I loved Thanksgiving or Christmas...or even Valentine's or St. Patrick's Day.
Perhaps it is something in the cool, crisp air...the autumnal colors...the earlier night fall. Whatever it is, I want a good story to give me a little thrill of fear. So I am on the hunt. For something scary...but not too scary! After all, I did say a little thrill of fear. And all hail to fall...I love it!
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Who Knew?
So I am in the midst of reading Stephen King's On Writing. Yes, Stephen King. I have never read anything by Mr. King in my life. And good golly, is that man funny! Here is the scoop. I don't really entertain horror stories since they make me afraid. And being afraid makes me feel uncomfortable. Have you ever had a one of those nights where you just went to see a spooooooky scary movie, and you come home to go to bed all by your lonesome? And then every little creek of the house or sigh of the wind is certainly Jason/Freddy/ghoul/goblin out to get you?
I don't like it. Sorry!
But Mr. King has some really great things to say about the craft of writing. Of course he would. Goodreads shows that he has "598 distinct works." Whatever distinct is supposed to mean. 598? Are you kidding me? How is that even possible? Of course, some of these are screenplays or written with other authors. I'm sure there are some short story anthologies in the mix. Whatever! Doesn't matter. The man has proven his street cred when it comes to the craft of writing.
And who knew I would take such delight in his style or in the little gems of wisdom sprinkled throughout? I most certainly did not see that coming. I will do a full review upon finishing this later. But today I wanted to share one of those many little gems.
"Let's get one thing clear right now, shall we? There is no Idea Dump, no Story Central, no Island of the Buried Bestsellers; good story ideas seem to come quite literally from nowhere, sailing at you right out of the empty sky: two previously unrelated ideas come together and make something new under the sun. Your job isn't to find these ideas but to recognize them when they show up."
I think I've read that now twenty times over. It's advice I didn't know I'd been seeking all along. As an aspiring writer (one who has now started planning and writing her first novel), I need reassurance. The idea I'm writing about currently came out of nowhere. I was hoping for my Harry Potter moment...that I would literally stumble across the perfect story idea. But Mr. King just confirmed that there may not be such a moment. Instead, I need to just recognize a good idea and write the story. The rest will take care of itself. After all, Rowling said that's the way it happened for her. The idea just came to her. And she wrote it.
So thanks Stephen King. I'm quite enchanted!
I don't like it. Sorry!
But Mr. King has some really great things to say about the craft of writing. Of course he would. Goodreads shows that he has "598 distinct works." Whatever distinct is supposed to mean. 598? Are you kidding me? How is that even possible? Of course, some of these are screenplays or written with other authors. I'm sure there are some short story anthologies in the mix. Whatever! Doesn't matter. The man has proven his street cred when it comes to the craft of writing.
And who knew I would take such delight in his style or in the little gems of wisdom sprinkled throughout? I most certainly did not see that coming. I will do a full review upon finishing this later. But today I wanted to share one of those many little gems.
"Let's get one thing clear right now, shall we? There is no Idea Dump, no Story Central, no Island of the Buried Bestsellers; good story ideas seem to come quite literally from nowhere, sailing at you right out of the empty sky: two previously unrelated ideas come together and make something new under the sun. Your job isn't to find these ideas but to recognize them when they show up."
I think I've read that now twenty times over. It's advice I didn't know I'd been seeking all along. As an aspiring writer (one who has now started planning and writing her first novel), I need reassurance. The idea I'm writing about currently came out of nowhere. I was hoping for my Harry Potter moment...that I would literally stumble across the perfect story idea. But Mr. King just confirmed that there may not be such a moment. Instead, I need to just recognize a good idea and write the story. The rest will take care of itself. After all, Rowling said that's the way it happened for her. The idea just came to her. And she wrote it.
So thanks Stephen King. I'm quite enchanted!
Monday, October 3, 2011
Measuring Success
I've talked a lot about feeling like a failure. I've come to realize that I'm awfully hard on myself. And even if I have had some failures, I've had some successes. It's easy to overlook that, especially when you feel like nothing is going your way.
But here are some things I've done that I am proud of.
1. I graduated from law school. I don't know if I want to practice law. But I graduated.
2. During the last three months of school I lost over fifteen pounds. I think I treat that like it's no big deal, but it is a big deal.
3. I passed the bar in Texas.
4. I had the guts to move to Utah even when it seems like it doesn't make any sense in my life.
5. I wrote four chapters for my book today.
6. I exercise on a very regular basis. I have been doing that for five months now.
7. I've been able to keep this going for seven months. Even though I want to quit doing it...a lot. I feel like it's a goal I need to see through to the bitter end.
8. I have gone three days now without eating sugary junk food. Trust me...the way I was packing it in, three days is a miracle.
Elder Uchtdorf said something at women's conference last weekend that has really stayed with me. He said that we are too hard on ourselves. I am really prone to picking on myself. I don't know why that is. It isn't like I'm this horrible person who does mean things and goes around hurting others. I suppose it stems from not being perfect, and I so wish I was.
These past few weeks I have felt very up and then very down. And to be frank, I'm really tired. Emotionally, that is. Exhausted, to be honest. And the thought occurs to me that maybe, just maybe, I might be driving the fatigue myself by being so hard on me. If someone else, for example, were to say the things that I say to myself day after day, I'd be pretty demoralized. I can't let myself continue to see myself that way.
It means that I have to start seeing the good in my life and in what I do. It means that even small things start to matter, and I need to chalk those things up to my abilities...my positive character traits. It means I need to create a new measure of success.
But here are some things I've done that I am proud of.
1. I graduated from law school. I don't know if I want to practice law. But I graduated.
2. During the last three months of school I lost over fifteen pounds. I think I treat that like it's no big deal, but it is a big deal.
3. I passed the bar in Texas.
4. I had the guts to move to Utah even when it seems like it doesn't make any sense in my life.
5. I wrote four chapters for my book today.
6. I exercise on a very regular basis. I have been doing that for five months now.
7. I've been able to keep this going for seven months. Even though I want to quit doing it...a lot. I feel like it's a goal I need to see through to the bitter end.
8. I have gone three days now without eating sugary junk food. Trust me...the way I was packing it in, three days is a miracle.
Elder Uchtdorf said something at women's conference last weekend that has really stayed with me. He said that we are too hard on ourselves. I am really prone to picking on myself. I don't know why that is. It isn't like I'm this horrible person who does mean things and goes around hurting others. I suppose it stems from not being perfect, and I so wish I was.
These past few weeks I have felt very up and then very down. And to be frank, I'm really tired. Emotionally, that is. Exhausted, to be honest. And the thought occurs to me that maybe, just maybe, I might be driving the fatigue myself by being so hard on me. If someone else, for example, were to say the things that I say to myself day after day, I'd be pretty demoralized. I can't let myself continue to see myself that way.
It means that I have to start seeing the good in my life and in what I do. It means that even small things start to matter, and I need to chalk those things up to my abilities...my positive character traits. It means I need to create a new measure of success.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
General Conference
"Decisions determine destiny." - Thomas S. Monson
Conference was great, as it always is. I really tried to listen to every talk given and write at least one thing down that impressed me. And there were many, many things that impressed me. Things about obedience and rejecting anything that doesn't conform to our standards. Things about helping others in need. Things about repentance and promptings from the Holy Ghost. Things about managing time and using it wisely (ahem...Michelle...ahem...Facebook)!
I especially appreciated two things. First, I appreciated what Elder Uchtdorf had to say about who we are. "Compared to God we are nothing; yet to Him, we are everything." He then went on to discuss how Satan deceives us into believing that we are forgotten, insignificant and unknown. How many times have I felt that way in the past year, and in particular in the past few weeks. But the message of his talk helped me to see that even if we recognize our own insignificance, we can also recognize our divinity, as well. God created us to do good things and to become as Christ. The universe may be expansive and incomprehensible so that we recognize the greatness of God, His glory and power, and His love for all of us. But what really hit me was this...the idea that what we experience now is not what we will feel in eternal life. Sometimes I get so caught up in my own unhappiness because I am considering what I do not have that I start to believe something that is a lie. I start to believe that I have always felt this way and that I will continue to feel this way forever. It's simply untrue. I have not always felt any particular way. My emotions change like the tide. And I won't feel that way forever.
Second thing...is all about how decisions determine destiny. I've wasted a lot of time this past year. Even before that, the signs of procrastination have been rearing their ugly head. I remember my last year teaching at Annandale. I would let the grading pile up until I had to spend entire weekends grading papers. I just couldn't bring myself, I would say, to face it. It was too much. A new semester would start, and I would be determined to do better. So to say that it just started this year would be a lie. The truth is, I'm a natural born procrastinator. But the second truth is that it does not have to be this way. My decisions determine my destiny. And it is true that I can decide to spend my time wisely. That is something that is in my power. People have all sorts of negative proclivities towards unhealthy or addicting behaviors. And people overcome those behaviors every day. I need to stop telling myself that it is all too much and start telling myself that we are going to take this ride one day at a time, one decision at a time.
So General Conference was a blessing, as always. It gave me plenty to consider, as always. And now it's time to put the things I gained into practice.
Conference was great, as it always is. I really tried to listen to every talk given and write at least one thing down that impressed me. And there were many, many things that impressed me. Things about obedience and rejecting anything that doesn't conform to our standards. Things about helping others in need. Things about repentance and promptings from the Holy Ghost. Things about managing time and using it wisely (ahem...Michelle...ahem...Facebook)!
I especially appreciated two things. First, I appreciated what Elder Uchtdorf had to say about who we are. "Compared to God we are nothing; yet to Him, we are everything." He then went on to discuss how Satan deceives us into believing that we are forgotten, insignificant and unknown. How many times have I felt that way in the past year, and in particular in the past few weeks. But the message of his talk helped me to see that even if we recognize our own insignificance, we can also recognize our divinity, as well. God created us to do good things and to become as Christ. The universe may be expansive and incomprehensible so that we recognize the greatness of God, His glory and power, and His love for all of us. But what really hit me was this...the idea that what we experience now is not what we will feel in eternal life. Sometimes I get so caught up in my own unhappiness because I am considering what I do not have that I start to believe something that is a lie. I start to believe that I have always felt this way and that I will continue to feel this way forever. It's simply untrue. I have not always felt any particular way. My emotions change like the tide. And I won't feel that way forever.
Second thing...is all about how decisions determine destiny. I've wasted a lot of time this past year. Even before that, the signs of procrastination have been rearing their ugly head. I remember my last year teaching at Annandale. I would let the grading pile up until I had to spend entire weekends grading papers. I just couldn't bring myself, I would say, to face it. It was too much. A new semester would start, and I would be determined to do better. So to say that it just started this year would be a lie. The truth is, I'm a natural born procrastinator. But the second truth is that it does not have to be this way. My decisions determine my destiny. And it is true that I can decide to spend my time wisely. That is something that is in my power. People have all sorts of negative proclivities towards unhealthy or addicting behaviors. And people overcome those behaviors every day. I need to stop telling myself that it is all too much and start telling myself that we are going to take this ride one day at a time, one decision at a time.
So General Conference was a blessing, as always. It gave me plenty to consider, as always. And now it's time to put the things I gained into practice.
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