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.