20 things I learned in 2011

1. Always trust your gut. 
2. Be kind. People remember kindnesses. 
3. First impressions are not always right. But neither are second impressions, third impressions, nor fourth impressions. Sometimes you can be completely wrong about someone. 
4. It's a small world and will continually get smaller. 
5. After receiving rejection, take the rest of the day to get all the disappointment, frustration, self-loathing, etc. out & done with so tomorrow you can begin your attack once again. 
6. If you're unhappy alone, being with someone isn't going to change that.
7. Figure out what you believe in and then believe in it heart & soul. 
8. Your actions should always reflect what you believe in. 
9. Sometimes things work out. Other times things get a lot worse. And most of the time, there's nothing you can do to ever change that. 
10. Parents are a never-ending source of love and support. They will always, always be there for you, even if you don't want them to be. 
11. Friends are one of life's greatest gifts. Never give them up without a fight. 
12.  Sometimes avoiding something is more agonizing than actually confronting your problem. 
13. Don't let assholes ruin your day. 
14. You never have to do anything you don't want to do. It is your life and you get to make the decisions. However, you don't have a choice when it comes to the consequences of your decisions. You have to deal with those. 
15. The most awful day in the world can seem a million times better by coming home and having a dog run and jump into your arms. 
16. It is nearly essential for people to have that one friend whom you can trust & rely on. Knowing someone is close who cares keeps you sane. 
17. Sometimes the most powerful things you can say should never be shouted. 
18. Believe in yourself. Sometimes you are all you've got. 
19. Embrace every aspect of yourself. It's the combination of every last detail of yourself that people fall in love with every day. Never be ashamed of that. 
20. Live your life in a way that you feel like you're falling in love every time you wake up. 

Love you.

Mean it. 

#107: How do you define family?

The concept of family is one that has always been very important to me. I guess being raised in a religious household where the importance of family is always heavily emphasized has had a lasting effect on me. But like my definition of home, my definition of family extends way beyond the traditional sense of the word.

To me, family is a group of people who support you, endure with you (sometimes endure you), who will fight for you, stand by your side no matter what, and, most importantly, who will love you no matter what. They want you to be happy and will support you in your journey to happiness. Family gives you a place to stay when you have nowhere else to go. Family will listen to you when you need to get all the badness out of you. And all of these qualities are unconditional. They are there because you are family.

At the same time, family is there to give you a good swift kick in the ass because, damnit, you needed one. Family is there to shake you out of your self-pity-party and get you back on your feet. They were there for you when you needed comfort and empathy but they're also there when you need to stop feeling sorry for yourself. They love you and sometimes, they need to supply tough love.

I want to point out that when I began this definition, I said, "family is a group of people..." To me, family can extend far beyond the reaches of your bloodline. You've heard people describe some of their friends as being "like family." To me, they are one in the same. I have had plenty of people in my life who have fulfilled the aforementioned qualities who were not related to me at all. Those people I would label family. I wouldn't necessarily label them as a brother or a sister or a specific family title but just the all-encompassing label of family.

And just like my definition of home, it's something that is always changing. Just like home is where you feel like you belong, family is also a place where you should feel like you belong.

If all of this is true, I have a considerably large family. And I consider myself very blessed.

Love you.
Mean it.

#108: If you wrote a book, what would be on the dedication page?

To my parents, Rex & Camille Cannon
for the non-stop love, patience, and kindness,
for believing in me even when I didn't,
and for putting up with me over all these years.

Love you.
Mean it.

Remember the best.

Two nights ago, I went out for coffee with three friends.
These friends represented three very different parts of my life.

First, there was Ashley, my best friend from high school. We'd been through so much together. We played Helena & Hermia in "Midsummer Night's Dream" our senior year. We had bonded up at Rock Canyon park after our mutual friend's wedding when we finally admitted to each other that we had our doubts about the church. I had been her winglady & protector. She had been my cheerleader & comfort. We had so many memories, inside jokes, stories together.

Then there was Sean, my Numero Uno. He was my rock back in Cedar City. He was there for me on the worst day of my life. He let me crash on his couch when I needed to come back "home." He listened to me and trust my judgment when he needed help. He was there for me when no one else was. He was my last remaining connection to Cedar City, to the life I knew I could never get back.

Finally, there was Jeff, my old assistant and my only real friend within 200 miles. He's the only guy who not only could keep up with me but wouldn't let me get away with anything. He'd call me out on my shit and I'd have to backtrack my statements. He's the only one I trust enough with my biggest secret and even though he let it slip just one time, I still trust him because I know he's good for it. He's the one I come to now for help or advice or just when I need someone to talk to.

It was odd to see these three people together. It was almost the sum total of my adult life was represented before me in the stories associated with these three people. Each one reminded me of a time and place that I once belonged to.

There's this brilliant quote from Doctor Who that says, "However dark it got, I'd turn around and there they'd be. If it's time to go, remember what you're leaving. Remember the best. My friends have always been the best of me." I believe this is true for me. My friends have always, always been the best part of my life and even when time goes by & I lose touch, it doesn't mean that their friendship, their influence still doesn't effect me. It's a constant thing. A good friend isn't easily forgotten.

Not that I would ever want to forget them.

Love you.
Mean it.

George Bailey, kindness, and karma

Here's the thing. I do believe in karma. But I don't believe in the hippie-dippie idea of karma. I don't believe in a grand force of checks and balances that rewards the good and punishes the bad. That seems too similar to a god-esque power. Like nearly every other part of my own belief system, my idea of karma is based on mankind or, more specifically, "what men do." To illustrate this point, let us consider the classic Christmas movie, "It's a Wonderful Life."

If you haven't seen this movie, you really should. It's brilliant. It's often considered the greatest Christmas movie of all time. I'm not going to recount the entire synopsis here but here are some key points. George Bailey (played by Jimmy Stewart) has spent his entire life sacrificing his dreams and his wants for the dreams and wants of others. He does this not because he's some altruistic, unrealistic saint. He does it because he's a good person and those close to him need help.

The antagonist is Old Man Potter, a banker who is motivated solely by self-interest. He is the antithesis of George in almost every conceivable way. Oh, and they're business rivals,  btw.

Anyway, George's uncle accidently misplaced the business's $8,000 while on his way to deposit it. Potter finds it and keeps it from the uncle. Because of this, George's business is going to go bankrupt. George is in such distress, he wishes he'd never been born. Then the main part of the movie happens where we see what life would've been like for the town & George's family if he'd never been born, yada, yada, yada.

Skip to the end. After George has his vision, he goes back home and is so happy to be alive. Then someone wonderful happens. When the people of the town found out that George was in trouble, they all flocked to his home to give him money so that his business wouldn't go under. He even gets a telegram from an old friend in London who's going to send him twenty-five thousand dollars. Towards the end of the commotion, George's brother comes in and makes a toast, "A toast to my big brother George: The richest man in town."

What happened to George illustrates my belief in karma. George was a good person. He helped everyone he knew and he was kind to them in their time of need. When there came a time when he himself needed help, people were more than willing to come to his aid. This is what I mean by karma. When you are kind to people and help them when they need help, they will always remember that so when the time comes you need help, they will come running. If you are unkind, selfish, and take advantage of others, no one is going to be there for you when you need help.

This point is also illustrated in Doctor Who. In the last episode of series six, "The Wedding of River Song," the Doctor is going to die. Without giving away too many details, River Song explains something to him:

"I've been sending out a message. A distress call. Outside the bubble of our time. The universe is still turning and I've sent a message everywhere. To the future and the past, the beginning and the end of everything. 'The Doctor is dying. Please, please help.' Those reports of the sun spots and the solar flares. They're wrong. They're aren't any. It's not the sun. It's you. The sky is full of a million million voices, saying, 'Yes. Of course we'll help.' You've touched so many lives, saved so many people. Did you think when you're time came you'd really have to do more than just ask? You've decided that the universe is better of without you. But the universe doesn't agree."

This is beautiful to me. The Doctor has done so much to help so many people. And when he needed help, their answer was, "Yes. Of course we'll help." I've said this before several times but I do believe it is true, people remember kindnesses. People remember when someone helped them and when someone was kind to them. And when karma comes around and that kind person needs help, the reply from all those people whose lives were touched will always be, "Yes. Of course we'll help."

Love you.

Mean it.

Revised rules with an asterisk

Really super recently, I posted a revised set of rules. It took my previously posted set of rules and narrowed it down to just four. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized even then I hadn't covered everything. Now I believe I have a set of revised rules with an asterisk.

See, the thing is that I'm willing to break rules 1-3 if every a friend needed my help. I've written before about how much friendship means to me and what it means to be a friend. When I consider someone to be my friend, they receive fierce loyalty and unwavering trust. I guess that's why I chose my friends carefully.

That's why I'm so willing to do something stupid, be unkind, and lie if my friend needs me. I can remember very specific examples of doing all of those things because a friend needed me. I can remember doing all of them in a single night, in fact.

I will not, however, break a promise. Like I stated before, trust means everything to me and I'm not willing to break that trust with anyone.

But those other three rules, if my friend needs me, they kind of go out the door.
Cause that's what friends do.

Love you.
Mean it.

#104: When you look back at all of your exes, what do they all have in common?

You may recall a while ago, I  asked you all to pick which question I would answer next. I know I said I'd answer it in a few weeks but I never did. So this is me, finally getting around to it. Anyway, the question with the most votes was: When you look back at all of your exes, what do they all have in common?

When I look back at all my exes, first, I realize I have a lot to look back on. If we only count from high school on, I've dated the following guys (mostly in order with maybe a misplacement or two): Derrek, Alex, Jason, Kendall, Danny, Dan, Adam, Conrad, David, Andrew, Brian, Sage, Greg, Augustus, Nick, and Scott. I don't know if that's a lot comparatively but I suppose that doesn't matter. It is what it is.

Anyway, here are some of the things that my exes have had in common:

1. They have all been relatively laid-back.
Instances: Alex, Jason, Danny, Dan, Adam, Conrad, David, Brian, Sage, Greg, Augustus, and Scott.

In all honesty, all of my exes have been pretty laid-back. The names I left out weren't necessarily neurotic or anxious. They just weren't as laid back as the others.

I view myself as a mostly laid-back person. I don't like to get riled up. I hate complicated situations. And I'd much rather spend my weekend with friends watching a movie or hanging out than going out partying or clubbing.

I'm not attracted to guys who aren't laid-back. In my mind (which is probably a sexist assumption invented by our patriarchal society and embedded in my brain) the opposite of being laid-back is being high maintenance, a quality I would attribute to women more than men. However, since I don't see myself has being high maintenance, if my guy is more high maintenance than me, I feel like the guy in the relationship (which is one thing I hate).

2. They've all been able to make me laugh.
Instances: Alex, Jason, Conrad, David, Brian, Sage, Augustus, Nick, Scott.

I have always found a sense of humor to be very attractive. This is probably why a good part of my exes have been able to make me laugh. I can't stand to be around stiff, serious people. I like to be around people who can find the humor in about every situation.

3. They've all been relatively poor.
Instances: Alex, Jason, Adam, David, Andrew, Brian, Sage, Greg, Augustus, Nick, Scott.

The other day my friend asked me if I have ever dated a sugar daddy. I replied, "Are you kidding? I considered myself lucky if they guy I was dating had a job."

I've never dated a guy who had a ton of money. As a couple, we did everything on the cheap. I've never been showered with expensive gifts (or really gifts at all) or been taken out to nice restaurants. Which, honestly, is fine with me. I think it'd be weird to date someone who did those things.

4. They've all been passionate about something.
Instances: Everyone except Andrew

They guys I date usually have at least one passion. For some (in fact, a good amount) it was drumming. For others, it was art. For others, it was just being really super smart. Not being passionate about something  is what I would consider a deal breaker. I don't know what Andrew's problem was. He honestly wasn't passionate about anything. But he was a rebound off of a year & a half relationship so I cut myself some slack when it comes to him.

That's all the similarities I can think of for right now. If I remember any others, I'll be sure to let you know.

Love you.
Mean it.

Revised Rules

A while ago, I made a list of rules, a code to live by. It consisted of 53 rules, which can be read here and here. While my intentions were somewhat good, I realized very quickly that having 53 rules memorized is a complicated matter, not to mention just following all of those rules. It left no "wiggle room," if you will.

In my never ending quest to simplify my life, I've decided to do away with these 53 rules and reduce it down to just four. You may have heard me refer to these four rules in person. Well, here is where I'm explaining Kelly Cannon's four rules to live by.

Rule 1: Don't do anything stupid.
This is a pretty all encompassing rule and as such, it makes life a big easier to live. Sometimes I am asked what I mean by "stupid." What I mean by it is don't do anything you are going to regret later. If you do something and you regret it later, chances are what you did was a really stupid thing. This also ties into another idea I hold near and dear to me. It is in life there are good decisions, bad decisions, and fun decisions. The only difference between the bad decisions and the fun decisions is you don't regret the fun decisions. Bad decisions are stupid.

Rule 2: Be kind.
I've spoken about this several times. This is the foundation for my concept of what the purpose of life really is. Life is hard enough as it is without us making it harder for anyone else. At the very least, don't make anyone else's life more difficult by being mean. We should always try to show kindness to our fellow men. We should help people for no other reason than they need help. I've found that people will remember a kindness long after the kindness is extended. Case it point: the other day, a girl I knew in high school and I became friends on Facebook. It turns out she married one of my coworkers at the Review. Anyway, not long after we became friends, she posted on my wall, thanking me for always being so kind to her in high school. She was new and I had befriended her and treated her kindly. While I remember this girl from high school, I don't remember me being kind to her. That's not to say I was mean to her but I just don't remember going out of my way to be kind. I look back and thank high school me for being that way. Kindness makes a lasting impression. And we need more of it in this world.

Rule 3: Don't lie.
It has been my experience that lying makes everything worse. While initially it may make things easier, it will always catch up to you. Usually, when your lie is found out, not only is there trouble for what you were lying about but also from the fact you lied. Strangely enough, this is the rule I struggle with the most. And every time I break this rule, it bites me in the end and I am reminded why I have this rule to begin with.

Rule 4: Keep your promises.
I started following this rule not long after I met a man who would come to have one of the most profound influences on my life. He truly believed that a man is only as good as his word. Promises were a big deal to him. If someone promised to do something and they didn't do it, he lost trust and respect for them, something that was always exceedingly hard to gain back. I have since come to view promises much in the same way. If I promise to do something, I'm going to do it. If I promise to keep a secret, I will never tell. Unlike my third rule, this is possibly the easiest rule for me to follow. Perhaps it is because trust is so important to me that I won't do anything to compromise someone's trust in me.

So there are my four rules. What are yours?

Love you.
Mean it.

Wish in a trash can

I wrote my name on a piece of paper
and added your last name at the end.
I stared at it for only a moment
before ripping out the page
and folding it over and over
until the paper refused to bend anymore.
I held it in my hand
trying to force any good luck I may still have
into that tiny piece of paper.
And as I walked out the door
with nothing left to do
I threw my wish into the trash

Love you.
Mean it.

As heard in the newsroom, part 7

Celeste, we have a bigger problem. We don't have a black friend.
-Andrea

I had to ride the bus when I was a stove.
-Andrea

My butt always feels wet here.
-Andrea about New Orleans.

Did they make sex?
-Andrea

That was an excellent jelly bean.
-Andrea

I skipped class and went home and made pies.
-Andrea

I just got put in primary. I know all about the wiggles.
-Brandon

My beard's a little sticky.
-Brandon

I have nothing against talking birds.
-Carly

So I've been thinking about racism...
-Celeste

...Which sucks balls.
Celeste, you can't say that with a bow around your neck.
-Celeste & Christina

Masturbation is bad.
What??? Since when???
-Celeste & Jarom

We want to know how to kindly–
We want that kid out!
-Christina & John-Ross

That's really creepy and I like it!
-Christina

I thought those were candy. Those aren't candy.
-Clark about a pile of condoms.

If you were a musical instrument, what would you be?
The most popular one cause I always get played.
-Clark & Jarom

Can you come over here so I can rub your belly?
-Courtney

Funny things are happening.
-Courtney

My soul thinks it's a good idea and so do a few professionals.
-Elyse

How long have you been playing the trumpet?
About 23 years.
You were a musical fetus?
-Elyse & Jeff

You should just play all those cliche trumpet songs.
-Eric

Told you! Who didn't believe... Wait, I think everyone believed me.
-Eric

I just need to win enough to buy some ice cream.
-Gilbert on gambling

I'm a man now.
-Gilbert

Should I be a ladybug or a kitten? I think a kitten is more manly.
-Gilbert

Geez guys, what are we? Five-years-old?
You're wearing a sheriff badge.
-Gilbert & Christina

Queen is overrated.
Gilbert, fuck you.
-Gilbert & John-Ross

I don't know why my hands are so soft.
-Jarom

The Village Inn has nothing but a new logo.
-Jarom

I hate school and you but you're both necessary.
-Jarom

Everyone laugh. Even you,  J.R.
I'll laugh at you.
-Jarom & John-Ross

Would you rather have a life size portrait of a naked man in your room...
This is going to be easy.
-Jarom & Matthew J.

What's going to be at this luncheon?
Food and Mormons.
-John-Ross & Kelly

I'll only go cause I like hating stuff.
-John-Ross

I'm Oprah-rich, motherfuckers!
-John-Ross

Matthew Jonassaint, you have been summoned to the council of elders.
-John-Ross

I don't want to bang your kid. I'm just a nice guy.
-John-Ross

Just because Gilbert isn't here doesn't mean we make Tiffany the new Gilbert.
-John-Ross

Clark Goldsberry. That sounds like a made up name.
-John-Ross

Gilbert, it's not a deviant thing. It's just kissing.
-John-Ross

Thank you. I deserve this.
-John-Ross after winning employee of the week.

Do you know how much condoms cost? That's why I don't use them.
-John-Ross

Is it bad I don't think his intentions are good and I'm frightened and maybe we should hide the zebra?
-Kelly

Your wife is adorable. I like her.
I kinda do too.
-Kelly & Jonathan

You do know your headphones aren't plugged into anything.
I do know that.
-Kelly & Parker

Booty call with your girlfriend?
I'm intrigued.
-Parker & Brandon in response to something Vanessa said.

I joined the mile high club! What does that mean?
-Tiffany

Your guy's secret meetings are lame.
-Tom

Are meetings always like this? If so, I'm going to show up more.
-Tom

I'll talk to them on the phone so they won't know I'm brown.
-Vanessa

Beard on beard action.
-Vanessa

Tiffany's a woman now!
Did I hear that right?
-Vanessa & Christina

I'm failing my Polynesian dance class.
How many credits is it?
Just one.
Well, fuck it then!
-Vanessa & John-Ross

I left my broken heart in a Voodoo Temple.

I left my broken heart in a Voodoo temple in New Orleans.

It was a locket I wore at the end of a long chain. Inside were the words from an old song, "Love is not a victory march. It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah." It had broken the night before, snapped in half right at the hinge, leaving me with an ominous feeling. I had felt heartbroken over the last month but especially over the the last two weeks. It wasn't even all heartbreak in the romantic sense, though that did play a major roll in it. An old interest had gotten back together with his old flame, an old crush had proposed to his girlfriend, and while I had two promising prospects, I was starting to realize that things would probably never happen.

But it was more than all that. Melancholy and just a general sadness seemed to follow me around. It was lighter than my normal depression but it was still very present. When my heart locket broke, I stared at it in my hand. It seemed to fit everything else happening. It was if it breaking didn't surprise me in the least.

I don't know if we were drawn to the Voodoo temple that day or we were just caught in a happy coincidence. I don't believe in fate or destiny, and miracles only rarely, rarely happen in my mind but the timing of our arrival was eerily well placed. We arrived right before a prayer service was to be held for a couple who had been there years before and we were invited to join.

We walked into the alter room and were amazed by what we saw. The room was covered with icons, both religious and secular. Items that people had left as offerings were arranged anywhere there was space. Bills were rolled up and sticking out of any crevice possible. Bottles of liquor, both empty and full, stood covered in different layers of dust. Other items were placed in other spots, giving the impression that once it was placed, it was never moved again. The memories of all the lives that had been in that room hung thick in the air. There was history in that room. It was a history that envoked a reverence within us.

An old black lady dressed all in white sat in a chair at the front of the room. Her friend, an old white man dressed all in black with a black leather vest and beret on his head sat to her right. As she began to speak, he pulled out a drum, which he would keep rhythm with later. She spoke of many things. Sometimes I lost her train of thought but would eventually pick it back up again. She spoke of life, of death, of happiness, of sadness and everything in between. There was a part that stood out to me. She spoke of how everything in this life that happens to you, you pick up and hold close to you. You keep those things close to you until you have no more room. You need to let go of the older things before you can begin to pick up new things. It was strange. I have always been a believer in the fact truth can be discovered pretty much anywhere. And here was this woman whom I had never met before and probably would never see again giving me the very words I needed to hear so badly. So much of my life has been spent holding on to things, holding them so fiercely, I don't have room for anything new. If I was going to be happy, if I was going to get rid of this melancholy which had turned into my constant companion, I had to let go of all my heartache.

After she had finished speaking, she stood up to sing. Her voice began unsteadily but grew and grew into one of power and passion. We, who were sitting on the floor, also stood and began to clap the rhythm and a few even joined in singing. I stomped my feet but kept my eyes closed. I knew something was happening, something very unique, something that I would never have a chance to experience again. I let the old woman's voice wash over me, let the rhythm pulse through me. When it was all over, I felt different, not reborn or anything so dramatic but I knew something had changed.

As we were walking out, I put my hand in my pocket and pulled out my broken heart locket. I asked Clark, one of my friends who was there, to wait for me. I found an empty place and set down the locket opened and face up so the words could be read but spaced just enough apart so you could tell it was broken. After I was satisfied, I walked out and didn't look back.

I can't properly describe the feeling I had for hours afterward. Something had changed in me. Those woman's words had rung so true. I couldn't continue to carry this melancholy, this heartache around. And so I left it there.

I hope one day, years from now, I can go back and find my broken heart.

Love you.
Mean it.

This is not for you.

~This post is dedicated to the anonymous formspring questioner who asked me when I was going to post on my blog again. Thank you for letting me know people still care what I have to say~


I think I stopped posting on this blog because of two reasons. The first wass I experienced a case of hardcore writer's block. Nothing I wrote was even remotely decent. Thankfully that was broken after a quick trip to New Orleans. The second was I started to care too much about what people thought about what I wrote here. When I began this little experience, I didn't care if people read it. I honestly didn't think anyone did. I wrote because that's what I do. I am a writer (please god forgive me). I wrote because I needed a outlet for my creative energy. But then I discovered people not only read my blog but also liked it. I began to feel this pressure of writing for an audience, for writing something that people will like, that will get a lot of hits, that will make my stats go up. This is poison for creativity.

It suddenly wasn't about me writing because that's what I love to do and because I needed to do it. It was about choosing topics I know a lot of people would want to read.

This is bullshit, if you didn't already know.

I can't think of a more destructive thing to do in regards to my "art." I sold out, in the spiritual sense since I'm not getting a dime off of this.

Well, no more. I have learned my lesson. Therefore, I am rechristening this blog, letting it go back to its original purpose.

This blog is for my creative writing, for my thoughts, my poetry, my lists, my ramblings, but most importantly, for myself. If you like it and want to continue to read it, that's great. If not, that's okay too.

As Conor Oberst once sang, "I do not read the reviews. No, I am not singing for you."

I am a writer.
This is not for you.

Love you.
Mean it.

As heard in the newsroom, Part 6

My music is fighting your music and Katy Perry is going to win.
-Andrea

Alright, who stole my plant?
-Andrea

Does this sound cool or creepy? Cause it sounds cool to me.
-Celeste

Barbie is okay, even though she's a super skinny skank.
-Celeste

I meant holding hands.
That's fine. That's 14 points above where I am.
-Celeste & Jarom

I plan on having the worst attitude today.
I will beat you.
-Celeste  & John-Ross

I want to be the girl version of Clark.
-Christina

I'd kill someone and it would be fun.
-Christina

Can we take pictures of the girl with a mesh dress and a thong? Cause that's fashionable.
-Christina

I feel like my brain is vibrating.
-Clark

My hips don't lie about how much I eat.
-Elyse

If Mike Vic were white, he'd work at Office Max.
-Eric

Do you know what [Bill Nye] is going to talk about?
SCIENCE!
-Eric & everyone

I discovered it was a girl show. I've been watching a girl show for five seasons.
-Gilbert, about Bones

I'd call him but my phone is in a bag of rice.
-Gilbert

A day without a nap is a day wasted.
-Gilbert

I know music.
No, you don't. You make grilled cheese at a music venue.
-Gilbert  & Jake

This music sounds like my thighs rubbing together, angry at each other. I hate this shit.
-Jake

The world of J.R. is unbelievable.
-Jake

On the subject of faggots and frisbee golf...
-Jarom

Deal with it. Or don't.
-Jarom

We're planning a soiree of sorts.
-Jarom

He is a ninja. He's a blonde ninja.
-Jarom about Clark

I give and I give and I give and I just want to take my pants off.
-Jarom

As long as you only karaoke now and then.
-Jarom

I'm too lazy to go outside. That's my main problem.
-Jarom on his troubles dating

Women can't read. Is that sexist enough?
-Jarom

Do you know if "man-child" in the phrase "idiot man-child" has a hyphen?
-John-Ross

Things just got Norwegian up in here.
-John-Ross

She's divorcing him because he was addicted to alcohol and pot, which doesn't make sense because she's divorcing him for being awesome.
-John-Ross about Bill Murray

People take it way too seriously. And not all of them are potheads.
-John-Ross

We peed in his shampoo bottle.
-John-Ross

My father just sent me a text, "Hey fat Jesus, what are you doing this weekend?"
-John-Ross

I need to stop smoking. The state of Utah is really making a convincing argument.
-John-Ross

It's my fault for assuming Mesa, Arizona has stuff to do.
-John-Ross

This is a safe place, you moron.
-John-Ross

I don't give an asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk about pandas.
-John-Ross

I'm not going to a wedding. Fuck you.
-John-Ross

It takes 20 years for something to be funny. Except the Holocaust. That shit ain't funny.
-John-Ross

Do you have court? Why are you here?
-John-Ross

You can't even get a decent HJ from a haunted whore.
HJ?
I'll explain later.
-John-Ross & Gilbert

I saw The Help last week.
Was that good?
I didn't fucking see that movie.
-John-Ross & Vanessa

See ya, dirty book girl.
See ya later!
-Jonathan & Christina

It kinda looks like it's smiling and kinda like it wants to eat my face.
-Kelly

Don't tweet about sexual harassment.
-Kelly

If you weren't so damn good at your job, I wouldn't have to be so freaking awesome at mine.
-Kelly

I've forgiven him 70 times 7 times. Jesus says I can kick his ass.
-Kelly

That is highly inappropriate. Maybe later.
-Kelly

Don't point guns at people. It's not nice.
-Kelly

J.R.'s the simplest to explain.
And yet...
-Kelly & Jarom

What is your favorite animal?
Steak?
-Kelly & John-Ross

How do you change someone's race?

Holocaust? 

-Kelly & Thomas R.

Did you just say chlamydia champagne?
I did and I don't regret it.
-Kelly & Christina

I wann do Bill [Nye].
...
Science Rules!
-Kelly & Jarom

Robbin, I'm going to come embrace you. Is that alright?
-Matt P.

I'm a jokester, you guys.

-Tiffany

I'm helping Somali children. Don't bother me.
-Tiffany

He did look like a geek. I saw him.
-Tom L. about Matt P.

Grieving for my grandma

My grandmother died two weeks ago. Today was her funeral. I had been to funerals before but had never participated in one. My grandmother's death is the first time someone close to me has passed away, as I have mentioned before. The service was lovely, with my mom and her three sisters speaking on lessons my grandmother had taught them. She was a wonderful, kind, and charming woman who knew no limits of love and charity. She believed in being kind to others, and serving them in anyway possible.

My grandmother's death has been a bizarre experience for me. During these last two weeks, I have felt sad, yes, but mostly I've felt okay. My grandmother wasn't doing too well towards the end and I know she's at peace now. I know she's surrounded by her brothers, parents, and loving husband. I know that. There is no doubt in my mind. The first time I cried was at the funeral today, partly because I saw my mother crying and can never stay dry-eyed when I see her crying. But for the most part, I've been fairly okay these past two weeks.

To give you an idea of how my mind works, here's an little anecdote for you. When my mom came into my room to tell me grandma had died, she said the funeral would be on the 13th. My first thought, in all seriousness, was "What do they do with grandma till then? Where do they keep her? How do they keep her 'fresh?'" This is how I reacted to the death of my grandma, not with tears or heartache but with the very practical technical question of what they do with her body until the funeral.

I've heard there's no right way to grieve. I suppose that's true, even though I do feel odd about not "weeping or wailing" over the passing of my grandma. She was old and not well. Death brought a certain release from that state.

I will miss her. I will always miss her.

Love you.
Mean it.

He draws me in

He draws me in
with the questions he forms in my head.
He draws me in
with dangerous daydreams.
Fingers running through brown hair,
an arm wrapped around another in the night,
wishful thinking.
He draws me in
with warm eyes.
Mischievous. Playful.
Eyes much older than his years admit.
He draws me in.
While the loneliness grows deeper
and the memories grow darker
still,
he draws me in.

You know me, I love a good story.

Everyone has stories. A person's life is made up of a series of stories, some joyful, some hilarious, some ironic, some tragic. Some of these stories we tell to a group of friends with comedic precision. Others we keep secret, silent, shared only in the dark, between the sheets. It's these stories that make us human, that help us to connect with others. It's through the exchange of stories we know we're not alone.

Sometimes, all we know about other people comes from the stories others tell about them.  I never knew my granddad. He died when I was a year old. All I know about  Bennion Rhead Cannon comes from stories my family has told over and over. All I have are the stories.

There is a time in my life that I try not to think about. Even though it spanned four years, I avoid thinking about any moment from then because when that time ended, it ended horrifically, painfully. Now when I think back to that time, it brings a terrible mixture of sorrow and happiness.

But lately, I've been thinking about moments, of stories from that time that weren't bad, that were actually quite lovely. Like when I spent the night with Josh and we took shots of rum out of wine glasses. Or when Sean and I would go shooting together. Or when I spent Easter weekend with Sage's family. Or when Brian and I stayed up all night talking about philosophy. Or watching Pan's Labyrinth with Gus. Or any memory with Gus. Those were all wonderful times. Those are all wonderful stories.

The span of those four years is itself one giant story, one with a tragic ending. But individual chapters or even small paragraphs are good stories, wonderful stories, stories worth remembering.

I can't let the overall bad ending make me forget the good stories in between.

Love you.
Mean it.

My Scarlet Letter

I did it. I finally got my tattoo. I've been planning on doing this for a few years now. I've even referenced it in one of my poems (titled Pride in Myself, which you can read here). I was originally going to get it (as the poem suggests) on my back shoulder but I switched to my right wrist. I figured if I was going to get something so significant to me permanently placed on my body, I wanted to be able to see it daily. 

A lot of people have been asking me about the meaning behind my tattoo. For starters, it's a scarlet letter. The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne is one of my favorite novels ever. It's beautiful, tragic, devastating, and sincerely hopeful. I just love it. 

My scarlet letter stands for Proud. That is my sin. Only I don't really view it as a sin. Let me explain. 

I've spent the majority of my life hating myself. I hated my life and often wished I didn't exist. It took me years of hard struggling to finally get to where I am today. I love myself, I love my life, and everything in my life. The only trouble is now people accuse me of being prideful, of thinking too highly of myself. To that, all I can say is they have no idea how long it took and how hard it was for me to get to this point where I love myself. If that means I'm proud, then I'll wear my scarlet sin for the world to see. 

I couldn't be happier with my tattoo. Every time I look at it, I want to giggle with giddiness. I feel free, liberated. This summer I had four goals I wanted to accomplish. With a week left of summer, I'm glad I accomplished one of them.

Love you.

Mean it. 

Long Nights

I can remember long nights talking to you. It's how we ended each day.
Whoever went to bed first called or texted the other to say goodnight.
I'd try to remember your smell as I struggled to stay awake so I could talk to you for just a bit longer.
I remember you making me laugh in the darkness, even though we were hundreds of miles away.
I don't remember what we talked about. It was probably mostly about nothing.
But I guess, in the end, it didn't matter.
Because all of those conversations about nothing "meant more to me than so many somethings."
I remember those long nights, falling asleep to your voice.

Not everything that happened between us was bad.

Love you.
Mean it.

I'll See You When I See You

You see, the funny thing about growing older is you become more aware of the differences between things that are real and things that are just nice ideas. The biggest example in my life seems to be constantly happening.

People come into our lives for an indiscriminate amount of time. These people can be coworkers, classmates, casual acquaintances, or whatever. They have an effect on you. It may be small, so small you don't even really notice it. But everyone who comes into our lives affects it somehow.

Sometimes these people have a huge effect on us. Sometimes, just sometimes, these people who were once strangers become one of the most important aspects of our lives. Those moments are rare but they are beautiful.

But then, these people, as all people must, leave for some other destination. It may be they're done with school. They may have a better job offer somewhere else. Sometimes people just grow apart.

What makes these moments so difficult as an adult is you recognize the very sincere possibility you may never see each other again. As kids, we were always making vows that you'd be best friends forever, that you'd always stay in touch, that nothing could keep you apart. I remember promising this to a few best friends. I can't remember the last time we spoke. I don't know what's going on in their lives any more. I don't know where they are. I don't know if they're still alive.

As adults, we know people leave and we know sometimes they never come back. When they do leave, they do so without any pretense that we will see each other again. We hope we do but we know it's just not probable. The best we can hope for is expressed in a line we tell each other as we part: "I'll see you when I see you."

That line holds so much pain to me. It expresses the childlike desire to keep our friends close to us coupled with the cynicism and realism of adulthood. It's an ugly line, without hope.

These people were strangers one moment, then they transformed into something so important to us, and then the next moment they're nothing but a memory. I really wish it wasn't this way. I wish saying goodbye and the hopeless "I'll see you when I see you" wasn't apart of growing up. But it is.

When we were young, the idea that you will see each other again made the departure less painful. Now, as adults, we don't have any such lies to comfort us. We know that everyone leaves and very rarely do they ever come back.

Love you.
Mean it.

Cause That's What Friends Do

Recently this scene from The Town was played at the GOP Caucus meeting for some random reason. While it may have something to do with the recent debt crisis, I'm going to use it to illustrate another point. This scene, to me, is the epitome of true friendship. No questions. No objections. Just simple loyalty.

I've mentioned my thoughts on friendship before. Essentially, when I consider you my friend, it comes with a fierce loyalty and an unwavering trust. It's just how friendship works in my mind.

Over the past week, I've had some kind of interesting experiences that bring my definition of friendship into light. First I had a friend tell me she thought she was pregnant. I dropped everything, drove over to her place, picked her up, drove to a store, bought a pregnancy test, and drove her back to her house. Luckily it was just a false alarm. Once I knew she was okay and we hung out a bit, I realized I had a million and one things to get done and now only little time to do it. All of the stresses in my life suddenly became less important after hearing she needed help.

And then yesterday, I was talking to a dear friend of mine who told me he needed $100 in order to pay his phone bill. I told him I could loan him the money and five minutes later, we're at an ATM. Again, whether or not I might need this money never crossed my mind. All I knew was he needed help.

I'm not telling these stories to brag or to make myself look good. In fact, many could argue that these examples prove what a sucker I could be. But these examples show exactly what being a friend means to me. No questions. No objections. Just simple loyalty.

If someone were to ask me why I did either of those things, my response would be the same,

"Cause that's what friends do."

Love you.
Mean it.

Liberated Woman

I start today's post off with this clever protest sign because that perfectly describes my feelings towards the topic I'm about to discuss. Or, rather, "I can't believe we still have to deal with this shit."

A few weeks ago, I was called "cheap and easy." The guy who hurled these hurtful words (I have written about this asshole before) meant them in all honesty. Why he called me them is unknown but I will say that he and I have fooled around on occasion over the last few months (this does not excuse his behavior in the least but does provide you dear & faithful readers some context).

While I was personally hurt by such unkind words, I was even more furious that in this day & age we are still resorting to classifying women in these terms. The guy in question will basically stick it in anything with a pulse. I, on the other hand, have only fooled around with guys. I am still a virgin and am likely to remain so for a bit longer. Sidenote: I have no problems with sex, nor do I put the act up on a pedestal. However, I do not see the point in "losing it" just to lose it. If and when I lose my virginity, it will be with someone I care about and whom I trust. This is my own personal decision and I don't need to explain a goddamn thing. For him, a sexually promiscuous man, to call me, a woman who is still a virgin, cheap & easy is so ironic it's disgusting.

Why do we still have such ridiculous double standards in our society? When a man goes about sleeping with various women, he's regarded as a hero. If a woman does the same, she's regarded as a trashy whore. I do not understand this in the least.

I have referred to myself as a liberated woman on several occasions. While most people snicker at such a term, I know hardly any of them understand what I mean by it. I know other women who also use the term and who also receive the same reactions, laughter with an undertone of ignorance. This needs to stop. So here it is, what it means to be a liberated woman.

As liberated women, we do not accept the expectations that our patriarchal society has placed upon us as women. We do not accept the double standard placed upon us as women when it comes to sexuality. It is our choice and our choice alone who we sleep with and how often we do it. These choices are our own goddamn business and no one else's. We are in control of our own bodies and our own sexuality. We reject all labels and terms that are derogatory in nature when it comes to our sexuality. We are proud of our sexuality and do not feel ashamed to discuss it openly with those interested in hearing it. It is our choice. It has always been our choice. It will always remain our choice.

If you don't like it, deal with it.

Love you.
Mean it.

As Heard in the Newsroom, Part 5

Part 4
Part 3
Part 2
Part 1

Last year [Jake] got his appendix out.
That happened.
-Andrea Whatcott & Jake Buntjer

I think you should make it bigger.
Isn’t that what they all say?
-Celeste Rosenlof & Elyse Taylor

I thought you undid her bra.
I don’t know how.
-Celeste Rosenlof & Sterling Gray

Let’s objectify this woman.
-Elyse Taylor

Or she’s being Michael Jackson, which is awesome for a two year old.
-Elyse Taylor

I hate the shit you like.
-Gilby Cisneros

People like to look at pretty women.
I know I do.
-Gilby Cisneros & Elyse Taylor

Can I call you John? 

No, you cannot. Fuck you.
-Gilby Cisneros & John-Ross Boyce

Hey, that zucchini spoke for itself.
-Jake Buntjer

Can you turn that off? My anxiety levels just rose 20 points.
-Jake Buntjer about punk music

I figured it was one guy wrestling eight girls. That’s awesome.
-Jarom Moore

Gilbert, sorry about the F-you but seriously, you can’t call me John.
-John-Ross Boyce

You’ve got to move the mouse, kids. Otherwise you get serial killers.
-John-Ross Boyce

You don’t shoot people in the face. That’s popularity 101.
-John-Ross Boyce

I’m turning 29 in October. I don’t have time to look to the past. It’s only the future from now on.
-John-Ross Bocye

You go, you fabulous little man.
-John-Ross Boyce

All I know about golf comes from Happy Gilmore & Caddyshack.
-John-Ross Boyce

I’m like the Typhoid Mary of clinical depression.
-John-Ross Boyce

Carly’s not a dick though.
Thank you.
-John-Ross Boyce & Carly Montgomery

Cause I’m ladylike, damnit!
-Kelly Cannon

Could you stop imagining me as some KFC slut?
-Kelly Cannon

I am not making fun of the army. I’m making fun of my friends who happen to be in the army.
-Kelly Cannon

A ‘Come to Jesus’ about Weezer?
No, a ‘Come to Jesus’ about priorities.
-Kelly Cannon & John-Ross Boyce

There are worse things to be called.
Yeah, like slut.
-Kelly Cannon & Sterling Gray

And that’s Andrea [Whatcott], dictator for life.
-Matt Peterson

I’m in my own cocoon of athletic happiness.
-Matt Peterson

We’ll bond, violent style.
-Matt Peterson

That sudden death was quick. It was sudden, if you will.
-Matt Peterson

Have you ever seen me play Call of Duty? You’d understand my approach to romance much more if you did.
-Nate Evans

Based on [the] Him vs. Her [column], I think you approach romance like a picnic while I approach it like guerilla warfare.
-Nate Evans

Slap him on the tush!
Does he have one?
-Parker Donat & Andrea Whatcott about Tom Larsen

Can you say pineapple in Spanish? Do you know what Spanish is?
-Sterling Gray to Andrea’s 2 year old

Love you.

Mean it. 

Doubting Thomas

I haven't claimed to be mormon in about three years. I haven't claimed any religion, in fact. I have stated before I don't believe in a god who intervenes with his creations. And I have reached all of these beliefs through first doubting the very religion/truth I was raised in and second by coming up with my own logical conclusions. However, my "doubting Thomas" mentality has also led me to some rather scary thoughts:

What if I'm wrong?

Yes, I have reached some logical conclusions as to the nature of god and the purpose of life and what to expect afterward but they are just guesses at best. I have no more proof of their truthfulness than I did with mormonism. What if I am wrong?

It's not that I do not believe my own conclusions. But before I reached my conclusions, I had to doubt the belief system I had already established or, more appropriately, had established for me. And I've told some people close to me that this belief system is what I believe until a better argument comes along. I cannot help but occasionally doubt my own conclusions. What if I am wrong? What then? What will it be like to meet the very god I turned my back on?

This fear of meeting god does not move me to actually go back to mormonism or religion in general. I cannot get myself to do it. Doing so would contradict so many of my own personal beliefs. But I do fear hell and I do fear an existence after this life that is nothing but pain and suffering. But my fear is not enough to force me to believe god gives a shit about any of us.

If I am wrong, may god have mercy upon me.

Love you.
Mean it.

I Just Ran: A Confession

He was always so sweet to me. He always had something nice to say, always there to make me smile when I was so angry. I gave him hope outside the world he was trapped in.

How did I repay such kindness, such sweetness?

I ran.
I left him in an unfamiliar bar in an unfamiliar town and I ran away.
No explanation. No apology. I just ran.

Don't ask me why I did it. It seemed like the best option at the time.
I sat there, making an effort at conversation, and I realized what I had done. I had led this guy to believe there was something more than friendship between us. I had let him drive hundreds of miles to see me when I didn't want to spend a moment with him. I saw the reality of what I had done and what kind of person that made me.

When you come face to face with the reality of who you really are, you either accept it, go mad or run away. And I ran.

I still haven't spoken to him since. He sends me messages now and then, asking for forgiveness for a crime he didn't commit.

He doesn't understand what kind of person I am. He holds me to this standard I cannot reach, that I have no desire of ever reaching. Maybe he's naive. Maybe I let him be naive. Maybe I let him think I am that person because she's a better person than I can ever hope to be.

I'd like to think I'm a good person, that I'm kind to others and try to think of others before myself. I'd like to think I can attack my problems head-on, talking through them like an adult. But just because I'd like to think this way doesn't make it true.

I'm no good
and given the opportunity,
I will run.

Love you.
Mean it.

Of God, Water, and an Orange Towel

Wrapped in an orange towel,
I was sipping cold water from a Christmas mug
My curly hair was piled on top of my head
dripping water down my neck.
I looked like shit.
Worked for six hours
before jumping in the shower
with your roommate,
a guy I only care about
when I don't hate his guts.

Later,
after I was dressed
still sipping water
still dripping water
we discussed literature & history
and you asked me if I believe in god
while your roommate,
my occasional lover,
brooded in the corner
and said nothing.

That night
alone in my room
I dreamt we shared your twin sized bed
and we paid no mind
to the outside world,
to your scornful roommate.
It was just us,
as if it had always been just us.

When I awoke, I realized
I forgot to ask if you believed in god.

Love you.
Mean it.

Thoughts That Will Destroy Me

I'm only writing this cause I can't sleep.

Even as I type these words out, I feel the futility of it all.

I've been trapped in a hollow melancholy lately, the kind that makes anything seem pointless. I've fallen behind in work and school, but lack the proper worry to actually do anything about it. It's more than just "not caring." It's a questioning of why caring is so goddamn important in the first place.

I can't sleep. It feels like too many thoughts are piled up in my head because I've been ignoring them. For someone who prides herself on her quick, intelligent mind, I don't want to think about hardly anything anymore. I know my mind needs a good purge, but I just don't have the effort. I'm willing to let these thoughts fester in my mind a bit longer, poison me for a few more days, thoughts that will destroy me.

Jealousy over a good friend's new found and well deserved happiness
Constant anger towards those I should love
Insecurities and fears growing at an alarming rate
My ever present yearning for real connection juxtaposed against my newfound anti social tendencies
The replaying of poor choices that seem to prove I am horrible

That's just the beginning. It never ends.

I'll try to find my way to morning. No promises though.

Love you.
Mean it.

Born Feminist, A Short Anecdote

I've come to the conclusion I've been a feminist all my life. This even includes when I was too young to know what feminism was. Case in point:

When I was little, probably around 6 or 7, I would see the school crossing signs on my way home from elementary school.

I was always bothered by these signs because the boy's extended arm meets up with the upper arm of the girl. To me (both then and now), this looked like the boy was helping her cross the street. This pissed off little 7 year old me to no end. I always thought, "Why is the boy helping her cross the street? We don't need help to cross the street."

And thus a feminist was born. 

Love you.

Mean it.  

Where No One Knows Me.

I want to leave this place and go somewhere completely new, where no one knows me.

The trouble is I've lived in Utah my entire life, 82% of that has been in Provo. Everyone here knows me, has a set definition of who I am. And that definition will never change. No matter if I try to change it or not, their idea of me is fixed, immovable. It's imprisoning, knowing you can never escape pre-made ideas and definitions of your identity, regardless if they're accurate or not.

That's why I want to leave. I want to go somewhere I've never been before, where no one knows me. I'll have true freedom once again. When I moved to Cedar City, I didn't know a single soul. There was this constant feeling of release from imprisoning pre-made definitions. People would learn who I was through slow discovery. And I, in turn, let them discover who I was. It was invigorating, inspiring.

I want that again. I want to go somewhere where there can be that discovery again. I want that freedom.

Love you.
Mean it.

Make a Liar

"You think you're so goddamn special, so different from the rest of us. But you're not," she said, leaning against the kitchen counter. Her white legs shone in the darkness, bare underneath the old dark t-shirt three times her size. It had belong to one of her past lovers, long forgotten. She folded her arms across her chest as he walked toward her, the dried mud caked on his boots flaking off, leaving a trail she'll have to clean up later.  Her dark curly hair, crazed from the humidity fell haphazardly past her shoulders. Her dark eyes never left him as he walked to the side of her to open a cupboard. "You're just as afraid as the rest of us," she said. "You're no goddamn better."

He pulled out a pint sized mason jar out of the cupboard, not finding any clean glasses. "Alright. What am I afraid of, my dear?" he asked without looking at her. He filled the jar half full with the cheap whiskey he knew she hated. "You're afraid of getting hurt," she said trying to catch his eye. He scratched his face, itchy with three days worth of growth and took a swig. The whiskey burned the whole way down, hitting his gut with that familiar lurch. He turned to her, looking her in the eye.

"I promised I'd never hurt you. But darlin', you're fixing to make a liar out of me."

Love you.
Mean it.

Lost in the Infinity

Our necks craned almost uncomfortable
feeling small against the million tiny lights
that traveled lifetimes for us to see
some now non-existant,
their light just an echo

I can feel their weight pressing down on me
and I feel lost in the infinity,
afraid "of all that never ends."

And all he did
was take my hand in the darkness
conveying in that simple gesture
the same fear of the unknown
but trust in what we have now

And with two smiles
silent in the darkness
we knew.

If we are destined to one day
be lost in that same infinity
we will not have to wander alone.

Satan Isn't Real

Recently someone asked me if I believed in the existence of satan. I have explained before my view on who/what god is. With this idea of god, I do not believe in satan. To me, satan is a creation of man to help explain why people do "evil" things. The idea of this powerful evil being who whispers in the ears of man, tempting him to do bad things is just preposterous. If god isn't there to lay out what is "good," how can there be a satan to tempt man to do "bad?"

I feel that the idea of satan was created as a strange comfort to man in the sense it made satan the cause of evil instead of man. I believe all the evil in this world (and goodness for that matter) comes from man and man alone. This is an uncomfortable thought for many people. They do not want to believe that evil comes from them, that they are solely responsible for that evil. They created the idea of satan as a scapegoat of sorts.

However, my disbelief in satan does not mean I do not believe in evil spirits or forces. I've mentioned this before that I do believe in the existence of evil spirits who were so evil in this world that they must endure extreme pain, agony, and fear on this Earth before they continue on to the suffering of hell. I do not believe these spirits can harm people; they no longer have that power. But people can feel their presence and the evil that still lingers there.

I hope that makes sense. I'm somewhat in a rush to finish. I'm going camping with my family and I needed to leave about 40 minutes ago. Oh, well.

Love you.
Mean it.

My Night in Feminist Hell

Last night, I was in feminist hell.

As part of my duties as the Life Editor of the UVU Review, I traveled up to the Capital Theatre in downtown Salt Lake City to watch one of the preliminary rounds of the 75th Annual Miss Utah Scholarship Pageant. Our school was being represented by Miss Danica Olsen and, while I may be morally opposed to pageants or any form of female objectification for that matter, it's a good story for the paper and deserves proper coverage. I had already written a preview piece of sorts on Danica's preparations for the pageant, which can be read here. My fellow coworkers at the Review know how hard it was for me to write the piece because of my moral objections. I had a feeling that covering the actual Miss Utah pageant was going to be a bit harder than I liked.

I walked into the lobby of the theater and checked in at the press table. I received my comp ticket, my nifty press pass (which gained me access backstage) and a Miss Utah press kit. I have to admit, I felt really legit by this point. This was the first time I had ever received a press pass to any event. I felt so grow up, like a real journalist. I was accompanied by my trusty photographer, Connor Allen (possibly Allan?), who also received a press pass.

We walked down into the theater and found our seats right on the front row. We had a few minutes before the show actually began so I sifted through the contents of the press kit. Apparently saving the trees isn't a huge deal to the Miss Utah pageant because the kit contained 24 pages of information, some printed on both sides. Here's a list of what was inside:

• Profiles of the seven judges
• A press schedule (this would've been handy last week...)
• 2011 press conference schedule (again, last week would've been better...)
• A list of past Miss Utahs who will be attending the various events throughout the week (there are 19 listed)
• A schedule of events for the 2011 Miss Utah Pageant
• A schedule of events and which ones will be attended by the current Miss Utah and Miss America.
• A break down of what the "Show Me Your Shoes" event is. 
• A PR release explaining the Child Protection Registry, the Miss Utah charity thing
• A PR release about the Little Miss Utah day of service. 
• A PR release from when the current Miss Utah, Christina Lowe, was named a semi-finalist at Miss America back in January
• A break down of the 50 contestants into three groups (labeled Mu, Alpha, and Sigma for some unknown reason)
• A list of all 50 contestants sorted by school
• A list of all 50 contestants sorted by number (each contestant is given a number; Danica Olsen's number is 30)
• A short bio on the current Miss Utah, Christina Lowe
• A short bio on the current Miss America, Teresa Scanlan (she's 18 years old!)
• A PR release from last year when Christina Lowe was crowned Miss Utah
• A PR release from last year when Teresa Scanlan was crowned Miss America
• A list of media sources that have produced either TV or print material on Christina Lowe while she's been Miss Utah (included was the UVU Review! One of those was my article! Read it here!)
• A list of the 2011 Miss Utah Sponsors
• Key Facts & Figures about the Miss Utah Organization & Pageant
• A list of important dates in Miss Utah & Miss America History (Only 2 Miss Utahs have won Miss America, Colleen Kay Hutchins in 1951 and Sharlene Wells in 1984)
• A break down of the judge's process
• A list of all the Miss Utahs since the pageant started in 1926
• And finally, a list of all the awards and prizes to be given out.

Yeah, they killed lots of trees to give me a bunch of information I really don't care about and if I needed to know, could've found on the internet. 

Anyway, the lights soon went down and the pageant started. With Christina Lowe singing with the MC, a Mr. Johnny Revill(?), the 50 contestants came strutting out, each group wearing a different color of the same style of dress. The dresses were ridiculously tight wrap dresses that had different cuts but the same look. As these women paraded around in their skin tight dresses, bouncy curled hair, high heels, and plastered smiles that never faltered throughout the course of the evening, I slouched in my chair and pressed my fingers to my temples in an effort to stave off the headache I knew was coming. All I could think was, "This is so wrong..." These women not only represented female objectification at its worst but also seemed to reveal in it. They know they are on display and they love it. Most seemed to carry this air of superiority, knowing they are hot shit and because of that, can get whatever or whoever they want. Very few of them seemed genuine and none of them seemed like the type I'd want to be friends with, or even spend a small amount of time with.

These contestants would strike poses to the music, some giving off a look and aura that seemed better suited for the inside of GQ or Maxim magazine. Every now and then you could tell a girl messed up on the routine because her eyes and her smile would grow even wider in a split second of panic before recovering and continuing. That was enjoyable for me, not because I wanted them to fail but because I saw something real at that moment. 

The way these preliminary rounds are set up is one group will do the swimsuit part, one will do talent, and one will do evening wear and onstage question. Then they will rotate on the next night and the next. The final night is on Saturday where I'm sure they narrow it down to 10 contestants who do all of it all over again. 

The next even was the Lifestyles and Fitness section, also known as swimwear. The MC stated that the purpose of this part of the pageant is to show how these women are healthy physically, emotionally, and intellectually. I'm sorry. How is parading around in a swimsuit supposed to show the intellectual side of these women? Not to mention, some of these girls looked scary thin. That can't be physically healthy. However, I will say that one contestant, who was a bigger curvier woman, rocked the hell out of her green bikini. She was not fat by any stretch of the imagination. She had a big chest and big curves. But there was not even a trace of self-doubt or self consciousness from her. While the rest of the women looked like they could snap in half with their bottom ribs jutting out against their tight skin, this woman represented to me what it means to be physically & emotionally healthy. She knows she is curvy but she doesn't care. She knows she's beautiful and she doesn't have to conform to what society deems as beautiful. I wanted to stand up and shout, "You go, girl!" But then I remembered I wasn't in the 1990's so I stayed seated. 

The talent section consisted of three types of talents: dance, vocal, or piano, and the dancing consisted of all ballet except for one. Some of the girls' singing was beautiful until they'd try to hit that one high note and just couldn't do it. It made me squirm in my seat. However, one girl who played the piano was phenomenal. I was really impressed with her performance. Not to mention, she really looked like she really loved to play. It was magical to watch her face and her whole body move and change with the music. It was beautiful. 

Of the interview part, I will only say this: fake, fake, fake. These women put out so much crap, half the time never actually answering the questions but just saying stuff that would make them feel good. However, I will say Miss American Fork and Miss Pleasant Grove gave the best answers of the evening because they were immediate, honest, and really showed us who they were as individuals. They were real and by that point in the evening, it was refreshing. 

The evening wear part took way too long and consisted of these women walking around the stage in what looked like a figure 8 pattern at a painfully slow pace. Even the audience, who were full of whoops and hollers the entire night grew weary by the end of it. 

It was at this point I realized why I hate these pageants so much. They are based upon these women parading around in gorgeous attire and big fake smiles. They are scored on their presentation, by how they look. It's all so fake. Every conversation I've ever had with a contestant at one of these pageants is dripping with PR-esque crap. Just like the interview questions, they never really answer honestly but rather say a bunch of stuff that makes them look good. I know it's not real. The readers of my articles know it's not real. I don't get why they do it. They are always on display, never letting down their facade of perfection. It completely reinforces this idea that when it comes to pageants, it doesn't matter who you are or what you do as long as you look good, as long as you look perfect while on display. 

And yet those involved claim pageants make these women better people, that it teaches them it's more important who you are than what you look like on display. It's a giant contradiction, an oxymoron in high heels and lipstick. 

But, unfortunately, I can't express any of these feelings in my article. I need to stick to "just the facts" and while I may consider pageants as an archaic display of female objectification as a legitimate fact, it wouldn't hold up under scrutiny. Thank god for this blog then. Here is where I will always tell you the truth as I see it. 

Love you.

Mean it. 

Pick the Next Question I Answer

From time to time, I answer certain questions here at Love You. Mean it. I've always picked the questions at random but now I'm handing the power over to all of you. Vote which question you want me to answer and around mid-July I will answer it. Simple, eh?

Which Question Should I Answer Next?
	What was the best gift you ever received?
	What is your favorite book?
	What is your most prized possession?
	What was the best decision you made in high school?
	Whats your favorite word?
	What always makes you laugh no matter what?
	What is something you believe in even though you know its silly to?
	If you could design your own personal heaven, what would it be?
	If you could imagine your own private hell, what would it be?
	Who was your first love?
	Who was your first crush?
	Who was your first date?
	What town do you consider to be your hometown and what are your feelings toward that town?
	What is something that most people would consider to be somewhat trivial but drives you insane or ge
	What is your dream job?
	Who is your favorite film director?
	If you were given the assignment to become obsessed with something, what would it be?
	If you could write a letter to any famous person, living or dead, and they would respond to it, to w
	What is your favorite physical feature on yourself?
	What music do you listen to if you want to get psyched up?
	What was your proudest moment?
	What was the most terrifying experience of your life?
	What would you consider to be your theme song?
	What do you believe is the purpose of everything?
	What do you never leave home without?
	When it comes to people you date, what is a dealbreaker?
	When you look back at all of your exes, what do they all have in common?
	What would you do if you had a ton of money?
	What was the first concert you went to?
	How do you define family?
pollcode.com free polls

Love you.
Mean it.

What I Have Going

When I die, let it be written on my tombstone, "Above everything else, she was a good friend."

Love you.
Mean it.

That Same Sweetness

I honestly don't know what's caused this change in you. Don't get me wrong. I'm not complaining. It's just odd to see someone who is normally so angry and self-focused to suddenly express concern and sweetness toward me.

It reminds me of that night when I really got to know you for the first time. I saw that sweetness, that tenderness in you. In the days, weeks, and months to come, it disappeared, leaving me to think maybe I had imagined it. It's good to see it again, even if its unexplainable presence baffles me.

Maybe you remembered all those times I was there for you when you were having a rough go, even when you didn't want me to be. Maybe you figured it was time to return the favor.

Maybe you realized good friendship is hard to come by & one like mine doesn't happen often.

Well, whatever the reason, thanks.

Don't ever change.

Love you.
Mean it.

The Glorious Silence of Sundays

I love Sundays. They are one of my favorite days of the week. Now, this has absolutely nothing to do with the fact it's the Christian day of worship. Well, I guess it has a little to do with it. But it has nothing to do with me using it as a day of worship.

You see, while there are some benefits to living at home (free rent, good food, free laundry, etc.), there are some obvious major drawbacks. One of these is I never have any time alone. There is nearly always someone else home. Don't get me wrong, I love my family very much. But when you spend an inhuman amount of time with anyone, you're going to start getting annoyed with them. Now, I do have my own bedroom which serves as a mini sanctuary from the chaos that is family. The only trouble is even when I'm in my bedroom, I can still hear everyone that is in the house and it's impossible to feel like I have any time alone to myself because I can still hear everyone else.

You see, my bedroom just so happens to be in the most inconvenient place in the house when it comes to noise control. On the other side of one of my walls is the stairs, so I can hear everyone that goes up and down. My room also is below the hallway upstairs leading to two bedrooms, a bathroom, and my mom's office. Obviously, this hallway gets a lot of traffic and I can hear every goddamn footstep/stomp/pitter-patter of doggie feet. There's also this one spot right at the top of the stairs that squeaks every time you put any weight on it. It's super annoying.

On the other side of the stairs is our downstairs living room, which has our main t.v. in the house. A few years ago, my dad finally got the surround sound package he has always wanted. I must admit, it's a pretty slick set up. The only trouble is it booms through my walls as if they weren't even there. The hall leading from the living room to my bedroom has tiled floors so the hall works as an echo-amplifier. Now, add to this that my 17 year old sister likes to invite her hoard of teenage friends over to "watch" movies at night (I put watch in quotes because they don't seem to do a lot of watching. They most talk very loudly, laugh, and scream. They're no longer allowed to watch old Disney movies because they would sing all the songs. I put a stop to that right quick), and my 20 year old sister who likes to watch soccer games and screams every time something happens that doesn't suite her, and you get the idea of how terribly noisy it can get for me.

Now, if you walk out of my bedroom, you enter the laundry room. This also has tile floor and the room also acts as a echo-amplifier. There are 5 people living at our house and my mom insists on doing everyone's laundry (something about saving water...I don't know), which means the washer & dryer are constantly going. Also, my bedroom is underneath my mom's office, which normally isn't too bad. Except she has this paper shredder that I swear rattles the whole house when it's functioning. Also, my bedroom is in the basement. I have one window that looks out at the lawn. When the lawn is being mowed, there is not chance in hell I can do anything but focus on the noise of the mower.

Now, what does all of this have to do with Sundays? I'll tell you. My parents and my sister attend one LDS ward at 9 o'clock. My other sister attends another LDS ward at 9:30 a.m.. This means that from roughly 9 a.m. to a bit past noon, I have the entire house to myself. I wake up and eat a leisurely, undisturbed breakfast, I let the dogs play outside, I watch some of the shows I have recorded on t.v. But more often than not, I sit in my bed and read or goof-off online. Why? Because the entire house is silent. Not a single noise to be heard besides the occasional snoring of my labrador Ralphie, or the sighs (literal sighs) of my small terrier, Randy. It's glorious. I even set my alarm so I can be awake to enjoy these 3 hours of silent bliss. Pathetic? Probably. But I don't care.

Love you.
Mean it.

Feel Good About Yourself!

I freaking love this.

Oh, btw, strong language is used in this video. May not be suitable for all ages/religions.

Love you.
Mean it.

Who I Am: A List

I haven't done a list in a while. I like making lists. It's how I function, how I manage myself, and how I keep things organized.

There's been a lot of talk around me lately as to the definition of self and whether it's possible to find yourself or if you only create yourself. I've also been having some odd experiences lately where I judge a person to be one way and they insist they are another. I, stupidly, decide to believe them, only to discover they are a blind fool who doesn't know the first thing about themselves. This typically results in me getting hurt and being extremely frustrated with myself for ever doubting my first judgement. It amazes me that people, myself included, can believe they are one way and it's simply not true. I've always tried to know who I am and be comfortable with who I am. I want to know who I am, both good qualities and bad. So here's a list of who I think I am. Hopefully, I'm not too far from the truth...

1. I am a writer.
2. I am a reader & lover of books.
3. I am clever. 
4. I am intelligent. 
5. I am aggressive.
6. I am awkward.
7. I am spunky. 
8. I am generally nice.
9. I can be hostile & angry.
10. I am loud.
11. I am creative.
12. I am caring.
13. I am a good friend.
14. I am an intellectual snob.
15. I am a cinephile.
16. I am no good at forgiveness. 
17. I am overweight.
18. I am dorky.
19. I pretend to be brave but I am not. 
20. I'm a pansy when it comes to pain.
21. I get emotional when I'm sick. 
22. I'm a sucker for animals, especially dogs & cats. 
23. I hate exercising.
24. I hate nature. 
25. I am a feminists. 
26. I am straight and I support gay rights.
27. I talk too much.
28. I am passionate about nearly everything I do.
29. If I don't want to do something, there is hardly anything on this Earth that can make me do it. 
30. I am stubborn as hell. 
31. I am lonely a lot of the time.
32. I struggle with depression and have since I was 14 or so. 
33. I try to be open minded. 
34. I am easily bored & irritated.
35. I drink more Mountain Dew than is probably healthy.
36. I generally hate girls. 
37. I'm funny.
38. I'm sarcastic. 
39. I don't care what the average person thinks of me but I care immensely what certain people I respect think of me. 
40. I am a leader.

There's a lot more too me, I know. But this will have to do for now.

Love you.

Mean it. 

Argument To Stay Cynical

It's nights like tonight that remind me why I should always be cynical.

It seems I sometimes forget that people lie for their own benefit. They manipulate others because they can. And, more than anything, they don't see why this is wrong.

I had my heart broken by a prick tonight. Turns out I'm really good at getting guys who want to 'fool around' with me but never date me. What's really funny is nearly two weeks ago, I had already written this guy off as a lying prick who couldn't be trusted. But then I did something really stupid. I gave him a second chance. Hey, I've been wrong before. Maybe he's not the manipulating bastard I first took him for.

Sometimes, I really hate being right.

I've been trying to fight my cynical nature, trying to find the good in people & trust that goodness.

Well, so much for that.

Love you.
Mean it.

Disney Heroines, From the God-Awful to the Kick-Ass Awesome

Like most girls raised in main-stream America, Disney heroines played a huge part in my childhood. I loved watching Disney animated movies growing up, especially when they had a princess or some chick as the leading lady. As I've gotten older and grown into a full fledge feminist who happens to be minoring in Cinema Studies, I look back at these Disney heroines who served as role models for what it means to be a woman &, frankly, it's a miracle I turned out relatively well-adjusted. There are a shit-load of Disney heroines out there who are just terrible, terrible role models for young, impressionable girls. They all played up the ditzy dumb damsel in distress. Hardly any of them had a bit of sense in their heads. Granted, Disney heroines have improved & become fairly bad-ass over the last decade or so but the original princesses (cause they were nearly always princesses) were/are pretty worthless. And because I have nothing else to do, here is my official list of Disney Heroines, From the God-Awful to the Kick-Ass Awesome.

I should mention the criteria of this list. I've only included human characters. Yes, Miss Bianca from The Rescuers is pretty cool and Maid Marion from Robin Hood acts like human, despite being a lynx or something but in order to be on this list, you've got to be human. Also, I've excluded Lilo from Lilo & Stitch because that movie came out when I was in high school & an annoying 4 year old girl isn't a good role model for girls in high school. And with that out of the way, allons-y!

Snow White, in Snow White (1937)

Of course the very first full-length animated movie has to have the absolute worst female heroine of all time. She can't even really be called a heroine because she's the most wimpy, pathetic, whiny woman ever! Don't believe me? Go back and watch the scene where she gets lost in the woods and the trees suddenly look terrifying. All she does is scream, "Oh! Oh!" mixed in with a few legitimate screams. Geez, what a little wimp. She then comes across a house and what does she do? She goes inside! What the what??? First of all, I'm sure that's a form of breaking and entering. Second, she just found out her stepmother is trying to kill her, the forest just transformed into scary trees on acid and she thinks going into a stranger's house is a good idea??? For that, I wish a serial killer lived there and taught her a valuable lesson. But not only does she go into the house, she freaking cleans the house! Oh, yeah. That's totally normal. She then spends the rest of the film cooking, cleaning, and being a pansy. Then she's stupid enough to eat an apple given to her by a complete bat-shit crazy old woman (who doesn't look sketchy at all...) and then falls asleep waiting for her prince to come. Dumb bitch. It's obvious that the writers/animators have never heard of women's liberation, but that can be semi-forgiven. It doesn't really come about for another 30 years or so. But still, Snow White sucks. 

Princess Aurora, in Sleeping Beauty (1959)

Princess Aurora is generally a pathetic character. She falls head over heels in love with the first man she meets (when she's 16 years old for fuck's sake!) and when she needs to leave & he asks when he'll see her again, she cries in a high(ish) voice, "Oh, never! Never!" And he replies with, "Never?" And she replies, "Well, maybe someday." to which she means tomorrow. Seriously, this prince, who is probably closer to 30 is hitting on some 16 year old & basically manipulating her into loving her. But apparently in 1959, that's totally cool. Not to mention, she spends nearly a third of the movie asleep, waiting for her prince to save her, thereby solidifying the 16 year old fantasy that she's in love. If little girls were to follow her example, we'd see a lot more episodes of 16 & Pregnant.

Alice, in Alice in Wonderland (1951)

Okay, maybe a little lenience can be granted since she's just a little girl. But still, she's a stupid little girl. She sees a white rabbit in a waist coat and decides to follow it. This in itself is not stupid. Hell, I'd be a bit curious myself. Where she gets dumb is climbing inside that deep, dark and creepy hole. Yeah, that looks safe and not dangerous at all. Then, while in Wonderland, she eats & drinks things because they say too. If this girl survives into young adulthood, she's going to be the easiest target for date-rapists. She hardly ever shows a bit of sense in her adventures. Of course, sense has very little to do in Wonderland but still, a little couldn't hurt.

Cinderella, in Cinderella (1950)

Talk about a bitch with no backbone. She is forced to cook and clean for her stepmother and stepsisters because they said so. I never see them threaten her with physical violence or taking away her food. She just does it because she is so "kind" that they walk all over her. I mean, even the cat pushes her around.  She talks about escaping and living her dreams etc. but never actually does anything about it. She's like that one person who always talks about getting out of their hometown but ends up being the assistant manager at Staples in his 40s. Not to mention, her best friends are mice. That's kinda creepy, don't you think?

Rapunzel, in Tangled (2010)

Okay, I'll admit I loved this movie. It was fun and exciting and clever. But the main reason Rapunzel is so high on this list is because she's goddamn annoying! I mean, seriously! Go watch the scene where she's all bipolar between being excited about being out and feeling guilty for disobeying her mother. That's only a small taste of how really obnoxious this girl is. If you want to escape so badly, go out and never look back. Remember what happened to Lot's wife?

Jasmine, in Aladdin (1992)

Here's the main reason Jasmine pisses me off. I hate the whole "Oh, I'm royalty. I have no real freedom. My life is so hard," plot line. I'm sorry, but I just can't get myself to believe that royalty with a shit-load of money and the freedom to do pretty much whatever they want have a hard life. I mean, yeah, being told where to go & how to dress is rough but not as rough as stealing food to fucking survive! Here's another reason I hate Jasmine. She's all bad-ass by using a pole to vault herself across buildings. But then get Jafar involved and suddenly she's powerless to help herself. Except, of course, by seducing him to distract him as Aladdin comes to her aid. There's a nice message for young girls. If you're ever in trouble, sleep your way out of it.

Ariel, in The Little Mermaid (1989)

Ariel is a pretty cool chick. I mean, she's pretty tough, she saves Prince Eric from drowning, she's insatiably curious, and she's a daddy's girl. These are all good qualities in my book. However, she's still a  freaking annoying 16 year old who thinks she knows more than her dad, who, by the way, is the freaking king of the ocean! I think he knows a thing or two about life, Ariel. What really pisses me off is her line, "I'm 16 years old! I'm not a child!" Actually, Ariel, by most definitions you are.

Pocahontas, in Pocahontas (1995)

Okay, Pocahontas is pretty legit. I mean, she does stop her father from declaring war on the invading white men, a war that they obviously would've been slaughtered in. But the real reason she stopped the war was so she could save John Smith's life because she 'loves him.' I don't care how you slice it, honey. You've kinda turned your back on your own people. Not to mention, when there is dangerous stuff going on she totally ignores the warnings and goes out alone because nothing bad ever happens to gorgeous women alone in the forest that was recently invaded by a troop of men who have spent the last X-amount of months alone on a ship with no women. It's a miracle you ran into John Smith, a guy who seems to be more motivated by exploration than raping.

Tiana, in Princess and the Frog (2009)

First of all, props to Tiana for being the first main character who is African American. The only others I can think of are the Muses from Hercules but they're not main characters. I mean, they serve as the chorus to the life of Hercules. And not only is Tiana the first African American princess, she's also a really positive role model for young girls. She's motivated, feisty, independent, and strong. The only reason she ranks lower on this list is sometimes she's just annoying, letting her dreams stand in the way of real happiness in the present.

Megara, in Hercules (1997)

Megara, or Meg, is a sassy, quick-talking independent chick. She totally plays up the whole 'damsel in distress' bit to its full humorous potential. When she is being held captive by the Minotaur, Hercules asks her if she's a damsel in distress. Her reply is, "I'm a damsel. I'm in distress. I can handle it." Her lines are usually delivered rapid fire and are fairly funny. Her main flaw is she uses her feminine wiles to manipulate our poor Hercules. However, you find out the only reason she's Hades's slave is she sold her soul to save the life of her love (who then runs off with some 'babe') thereby showing she has a good heart. And she does come through in the end, sacrificing herself to save Hercules.

Jane, in Tarzan (1999)

Jane is legit. She's a Victorian era lady who travels all the way to Africa to study gorillas. For a woman at that period of time to travel to the middle of nowhere to pursue scientific discoveries is phenomenal. She serves as the example of the liberated woman. She's educated, clever, brave, adventurous, and has a good heart. She stands up to Clayton, a man who could snap her in half. She's also pretty funny too. I like that in a role model. 

Belle, in Beauty and the Beast (1991)

Personally my favorite princess/heroine, Belle is smart, well-read, and brave. She's mostly motivated by saving and protecting her father. She's not intimidated by the Beast as time goes on and learns to even care for him. She smart enough not to fall all over the arrogant Gaston, realizing he's kind of a dick. When he accuses her of having feelings for the monster (meaning the beast), she bravely retorts, "He's no monster, Gaston. You are!" That takes some balls (or ovaries, if you will). She has a sense of adventure that cannot be beat, wanting to get out of her boring town and live the life she's only read about in books. Which brings up the main fact Belle is so cool: The girl loves books! The present the Beast gives her is a giant library and she's ecstatic. Never trust a girl who doesn't love books. 

Esmerelda, in The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996)

Esmerelda is pretty kick-ass. She's aggressive when it comes to defending herself and her people, but also kind and tender when it comes to helping Quasimodo. She fights Phoebus with a tall candle stick (while he has a sword), she stops the crowd from tormenting Quasimodo, and when she's tied up to be burned at the stake and Frollo offers to save her if she becomes his sex slave, she freaking spits in his face! This chick is hardcore! She's selfless, strong, and clever, making her the ideal role model for young girls. 

Mulan, in Mulan (1998)

Mulan is the most kick-ass awesome Disney heroine for one main reason. In order to save her father from having to serve in the army, she cuts her hair, pretends to be a boy, and goes to freaking war! And back then, war was some rough stuff. Not that it isn't now, mind you, but back then it was mostly hand to hand combat with horrific effects. This chick loves her father so much that she's willing to endure all of that and possibly die in order to save him. Then, on top of all that, she freaking saves China from the Huns! It's her smart thinking and bravery that ends up saving the Emperor and the rest of the people. She's definitely the heroine girls should want to grow up to be. 

Well, there's my list. If you disagree with any of them, please feel free to comment. 

Love you.

Mean it.