Knock it off.

Disclaimer: I'm in a mood. Not a bad mood per se, just a mood. If you continue reading, take it with a grain of salt. 


Most of this is tongue in cheek, meaning it has a humorous tilt but is stuff that really irks me sometimes. Again, I was browsing facebook today (why do I keep referencing that lately? Oh yeah, I'm addicted. Might be time for detox) and came across this hilarious pic:

Pretty sure this is the plight of most vegetarians/pescetarians who have carnivore friends. I've found myself in this exact position quite a few times. I don't eat meat, and I really, really like hummus. Therefore, I assume that everyone else likes hummus, most often incorrectly. Which brings me to my first point.

1. Don't make a big deal out of me being vegetarian. I'm not high maintenance in this respect. And rest assured that I really, really appreciate the dinner invite and the fact that you would care to ask what I would like. I think it's very considerate that you would want to make sure there is something available for me. But it gets on my last dang nerve when people insist on making it an issue and continue to ask "CAN you eat that?" or "Are you sure? I can make something else. I'm just not sure what vegetarians eat."  We eat what everyone else eats, sans meat. I have been a vegetarian/vegan/pescetarian for just over 10 years now, and I'm pretty solid in the knowledge of what I can/cannot/will eat. Also, I have a medical condition that forces me to avoid some foods and stick to others. I don't consider you a terrible host if you don't have a giant vegetarian buffet laid out with four different entrees. If you're not sure, ask before the night of the dinner, and I will give you some budget options. In fact, I will most likely just offer to bring a dish of my own to share with the group so that you aren't stressed trying to cater to the one person in the group who doesn't eat chicken/beef/pork or whatever. Besides, I'm really not that nice. If I don't want it, I won't eat it. But it doesn't need to be a meltdown. I just love spending time with people I enjoy. Let's leave it at that.

**If Char, Terri, Mom or Grandma reads this, it has nothing to do with what happened Friday night. That was hilarious!**

2. No, I'm not secretly dating my roommate. Stop asking. This hasn't come up for me so much recently, but it has been an issue in the past. However, she gets asked almost daily, and it irks me to the core. I have known this girl for nearly six years, and she is the closest thing to a sister this girl has. I do have an amazing sister in law, and we are working on our relationship and getting closer every day. But my roomie and I are like peanut butter and jelly. Yes, I am an active, temple going member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. Yes, she identifies as lesbian. We lived together for a long time while I was away from the church, and have continued to live together as I have gone on my journey back to full fellowship within the LDS church. There is nothing funky going on. We respect each other and our boundaries. Yes, we disagree on some things pertaining to lifestyle, but we talked about it a long time ago and decided what we would and would not tolerate in our home. But she is also a person who is trying to live a Christ-centered life. We have set the perimeters for our frienship/relationship and our home, and have managed to create a home where the Spirit can dwell and guide our lives daily. We read scriptures together, have prayers, and regular discussions on our faith and attitudes toward religion and religous happenings. We spend a lot of time together because we are the best of best friends. We support each other, encourage each other, and give space when needed. I cook because she can't, and she kills spiders because I can't. That's it. Not that it's anyone's business, but I needed a vent. She is one of the best people I know. So when we say roommate, we mean just that. Maybe "housemate" would be better, because we have our own rooms. Regardless, there is no need to say "roommate?' or "rooooomate?" *eyebrow raise*. Get real, people. We are adult enough to hold ourselves accountable for our actions. If we were dating, we would say so. Get over it.

3. Aren't you sad that you're so old and not married? Nope. Girl, I am not old. 28 is not anywhere near old. I just had my quarter life crisis a couple years ago. I'm barely scraping the surface of this life of mine. I understand that eternal marriage and families are central to our Heavenly Father's plan and are definitely worthy goals. I don't turn down any opportunities presented to me and am actively involved in life and pursuing goals I feel are worthwhile. That being said, I am not going to stress about it. I have a strong testimony that our Heavenly Father knows us personally, and knows exactly what we are going through and also knows exactly how we are feeling. He also knows our missions in this life and what will best help us get there. When it is right, I will know. For now, I am focusing on learning things that will help me be a better wife and mother when the time comes. And believe me, it will come. Whether it is during my time on earth or later on, the time will come. All our knowledge comes with us when we pass on, and I want to be ready with all the knowledge I can so that I can stand in front of the judgement seat and say I did everything I could to be the best person I could. It does get hard being alone sometimes, but then I remember that I have important work to do and that, if nothing else, I matter to Him.

The Burning House

A week ago, I thought I was losing my best guy friend.

My dad is ill, very ill. And that Sunday in the ICU, it didn't feel like he would get a whole lot better. Mom was asked about life support preferences, the big ones. Did you know there are varying degrees of life support? I didn't, not until now. My brother and sister in law flew in from Tennessee. We prayed. We held dad's swollen hand, talking to him and hoping he heard our secrets. And we cried. I hit every stage of grief within that week, struggling between tense, gut-wrenching sadness and comfort in the stalwart knowledge that families can be together for ever. And it's not just a song, it is truth.

Fast forward a week and one day later. 8 days and many miracles later, I sat here at my desk checking facebook and feeling a whole lot better about things. We are not out of the woods, and he is still a very sick man. But maybe, just maybe, I can let this knot in my stomach go, even if just a little bit. A friend of mine posted something intriguing on facebook today, something that caught and kept my attention for a good portion of time. She introduced me to The Burning House, a blog with a collection of pictures of the items people would take if their house were burning and they had only minutes to condense their most important posessions to a small number of items they could carry in their arms. I found it so interesting to see the things that people would take. There were an infinite number of Macbooks and hipster sunglasses, lighters, sentimental stuffed animals of one breed or another, pets, family and other minutiae that we, as everyday people, find terribly important. It got me thinking about my minutiae, and what I would take. So I started to take stock.

I wasn't surprised to find that after some digging, most of my items relate to family, considering our current situation. Of course, my list now is vastly different than what it would have been had I done this five years ago. Ten years ago.

Here is my pic:

The List:

1. A blue sign painted for me by my brother. It reminds me that it is all worth it.
2. My 20 yr old scriptures and my scripture journal of inspiration and revelation.
3. A blue ceramic box made for me by my mom when I was just a little one. The inscription on the bottom reads "To my favorite little girl! Love, Mom Dec 1990"
4. A handcrafted wooden sign made by my dad in 2006. It reads "A good heart and good mind are a formidable combination. -N. Mandela"
5. Letters, a postcard, and a copy of The Book of Mormon with his testimony in it from my brother while on his mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.
6. A mug I made in 7th grade. It's a duck, and reminds me that we are ever changing.
7. A picture of my dad and I, circa 1987.
8. My journal from Spain, because it reminds me where I've been in life. It was a gift from my parents.
9. My tin Strawberry Shortcake lunchbox filled with notes and pictures from my school days.
10. My copy of a women's healthcare parity bill I co-wrote for the 2002 General Session of the Utah State Legislature
11. My favorites from my postcard collection.

Everything else can be replaced, including my birth certificate and such. But these things, these things are irreplaceable. While collecting them, I realized something very important.

I've already been taking things from my own figurative "burning house", stockpiling them like a mad woman.

Except my burning house was not bricks and mortar, it was my perceived shortened relationship with my best guy friend. That house has felt like it's been burning for a long time through this illness, and just when I thought we were at the end of his mortal existence, I was taking what I could from our relationship to make sure I had nuggets of goodness to last me until I would see him again. I realized that I have been going over our memories in my head for a long time now. Memories of when I was a kid, his jokes, the time the two of us went to LA all by ourselves, acted like idiots on Hollywood Boulevard, the time he taught me how to gamble at the tables in Vegas at 19 and how he threatened me with my life if I told mom. How he used to sing to me every.single.night no matter how tired he was when I was little. The bracelet I have with his name on it. The hours he spent in the shop, insisting that I learn how to change my own brakes and belts because "independent girls need skills".

Fortunately, all of my most treasured items from this burning house are not tangible. The same goes for my feelings and thoughts about my mom and brother. We are a family built on what matters, not the things in life which can be lost or misplaced. We are a family who have experienced each other and our relationships in a way that will bond us forever, and for this I will forever be grateful.

Stuff doesn't matter. Turns out the guy was right.

What would you take??