Atheist Christmas

As an atheist, Christmas is an odd time of the year for me. Since I don't believe in a god, the whole idea of him having a son that was sacrificed to save humanity is pretty much thrown out the window as well. So the concept of celebrating the birth of this son seems pretty ridiculous.

However, Christmas has always been my favorite holiday and I'm rather reluctant to give up this holiday entirely. As such, while my love of Christmas hasn't changed, I'm finding my reasons for my love is shifting. (I touched on this last year.) Without a belief in god, I've tried to find meaning and joy in Christmas without the whole Christ bit. (I'm Pat Robertson's worst nightmare)

One of the main “reasons for the season” that I have found meaning in can be found in Charles Dickens “A Christmas Carol.” I mentioned it last Christmas but I bring it up again because it really does exemplify my non-religious feelings about Christmas.

“I have always thought of Christmas Time...as a good time: a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time: the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut up hearts, freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe it has done me good and will do me good; and I say God bless it!”

Now, minus that bit about god blessing it, Dicken's words perfectly reflect my feelings about Christmas. This idea of Christmas being a time when, for once, people look beyond themselves and try to be kinder to each other really appeals to my atheist secular humanist beliefs. You don't need to believe in god to believe in being kind, to make an sincere effort to help people who are in need of help. AndChristmas is as good of a time as ever to remember how fortunate you've been in your life, how many good things you have going for you and to remember how there are others who may not have it so good.

This is what I try to remember during Christmas. Despite what Pat Robertson may say, I'm not at war with Christmas. I don't want to destroy Christmas or make religious people miserable because I'm miserable. On the contrary, I'm not miserable and I want to make others happy this time of the year. Christmas is a time to be kinder, better people, to look beyond ourselves and help those in need. And god doesn't have to have anything to do with it.

Love you.

Mean it. 

What am I doing?

My birthday is in a few weeks. I'll be turning 25. I was thinking about this as I was driving to Provo the other day for a birthday party for a dear friend. The more I thought about it, the more I began to experience something like a quarter life crisis. 

I'm turning 25. In another five years, I'll be 30. 30 seems like such an epic age. What do I want my life to be like in five years? Do I want to still be working at the Herald Journal? Do I want to be working at a bigger newspaper? Do I want to live somewhere bigger? Do I want to own a house or a really nice condo? Do I want to be married or in a serious relationship? Do I want kids? What do I want out of my life? Needless to say, I began to panic and freak out a bit. 

The truth is I don't know I'm doing or what I'll want to be doing in five years. I've been so focused on the most recent aspects of my life (graduating from college and getting a job) that I haven't given much thought to the next few years. 

The other day a friend of mine asked me how long I plan on staying at the Herald Journal before moving on to a bigger paper and then end up at the New York Times. I kind of laughed the idea off. I mean, I've dreamed about working at something like the New York Times but I've never really seriously considered it. I told this to another friend of mine and he said that if anyone is going to end up there, it would be me, that I was tenacious and plucky enough to do it. 

Now, granted, he could have just been being nice. He is a nice fellow despite what folks may say. But this only increased my quarter life crisis thought process. What if I do want to end up at the New York Times? The kind of journalism I enjoy the most and get the most satisfaction out of is investigative type stuff, exposing corruption or wrong doing and bringing attention to causes or plights that deserve attention. And as much as I love my job right now, it doesn't offer many opportunities for that type of work. And while I love my job and love getting up in the morning to do it, is it something that I want to be doing in five years? 

I'm coming slowly to the conclusion that I don't think I'll ever really know what I'm doing with my life. I'll perpetually be in a state of ricocheting in this thing we call existence, trying to force it to make sense and squeeze happiness out of it. And I'm not saying it's necessarily a bad thing. It's just semi-frustrating for a person like me who generally likes to have a plan. 

Trouble is life tends to be far more complicated and unpredictable to have solid plans or even tentative plans. It's all just wibbly-wobbly. 

So I don't know where I'm going to be in five years or 10 years or 50 years.  And I'm not sure how I should feel about that quite yet. I'll keep you posted though. 

Love you.

Mean it. 

Old bedroom

Right now, I'm laying in my old room at my parents' place. I'm not even laying on a proper bed, just a sleeping pad they've thrown on my old daybed frame. There is no other furniture in the room & nothing on the walls. It's really strange being in here once again. This was my room for over 12 years. It was the only place in the whole house that was truly mine. I wrote some of my first creative works in room. I talked & texted numerous boyfriends & crushes. I prayed fervently to a god I'd later realize doesn't exist. I cried myself to sleep more nights than I'd like to remember. I hurt myself, cut myself in this room in an attempt to make all the pain & depression go away. I read countless books in here, falling in love with each one. I cuddled with pets that have since passed away & have felt the loneliness when they are gone. I live my life in this room. It was mine & it experienced the best and worst of my life.

But it's no longer my room, not really anyway. My folks plan on turning it into a guest bedroom for when us kids come to visit. They're going to repaint over the baby blue I begged them to let me paint the walls. After that, it really won't be my room. It will only be memories, good & bad.

Love you.
Mean it.

Beauty won't pay my bills.

Don't get me wrong. I love my job. 

If I were the type of person who went out and made friends or just chatted with people as we sat at the bar and sipped beer, I'd brag about my job. They'd ask me what I did for a living and I'd tell them I was a reporter. If I was two beers in, I'd tell them I write. When they asked me what I write, I'd say, "Words, mostly."

I can't think of a better way to make a living. I write words and people give me money. It's brilliant. It's so perfect for me, I'm not sure how I got so lucky.

(of course, Chris would say that luck has nothing to do with it. In his zen Buddhist way, he'd say "You didn't come as far as you have from luck. In talent and passion and will, we are not all created equal.")

(Though I think my idea of luck comes from a combination of Chris's idea and Harvey Dent's "You make your own luck." In that sense, I've worked my ass off to be as lucky as I am.)

In any case, I'm one lucky girl to be paid to write words. 

But there is one draw back. 

I write words. Lots of words. SO MANY WORDS. 

By the time I get home, the last thing I want to do is write more words. As such, my other forms of writer have suffered as a result. I don't post on here nearly as often as I used to. The last poem I wrote was back in July. And my journal keeping has become non-existant. 

I write words for money. I no longer write them for the beauty of their existence. 

I usually don't mind this too much. It's more like a dull ache inside of me that could one day resemble regret. 

But on nights like tonight when I check in on some of my favorite artists/writers (See: Andy & Bodily), I feel like I'm not creating enough art, enough beauty. (Not to mention, both of those gentlemen are so bloody talented, I don't know whether to hug them or punch them in the neck.)

I guess that's a drawback to making words your living. 

Love you.

Mean it. 

Hope I'm not bothering you

I always figured that no one wants to hear the lonely words of a depressed girl. Folks have enough shit to deal with in their lives that adding a deluge of melancholy emotions to it is just going to be a waste of their time. Not to mention, depression seems so common these days. You can't throw a rock without hitting someone who's having to deal with feelings of depression. It's nothing unique. There's nothing remarkable about being depressed so really, what's the point in sharing those thoughts and emotions with people?

I always figured that if I really needed to share my lonely words, my depressed thoughts, I have to at least make them beautiful, albeit in a tragic, heartbreaking kind of way. That way I'm adding a bit of beauty to this work, even if it's a bit dark and haunting. It's not just me trying to get attention or just being depressed in the same kind of way everyone else is. No one cares about one more depressed person. I've got to try and make something out of this depression. If people are going to read my depressed and lonely words, at least make them feel something real.

Sometimes I succeed and I create something I'm proud of later. Those words that I put down are created solely out of desperation, a desire to stop feeling so bad, to get all that badness and heartache and haunting out of me and into words. I force all that badness into something devastating yet beautiful. And then when I look back on those words when I'm not trying to dig myself out of a pit of darkness, I fully appreciate what I have created.

Sometimes it doesn't work and I make something that's pathetic, trite and a waste. Like I said, depression is common. There's nothing new or refreshing about it. And I'm not the first one that's tried to create something out of it, tried to force some beauty into it. Unfortunately, it's so easy to make depression a cliche, to turn real human pain into something expected and dull. And no one wants to read that.

I guess what I'm trying to say is making beauty out of my depression is the most effective way to get rid of it. But those days when all I can make is shitty cliche tripe, it's just better if I keep it to myself, for everyone involved.

Love you.
Mean it.

I can't imagine doing anything else.

One thing I love about my job is the variety. When you're a journalist, you never really know what the day is going to bring you. Sure, you may have interviews lined up but sometimes those interviews can be really boring or interesting or life changing or a million other things. Then there's always a chance of breaking news where something happens right then and you have to drop everything to cover it. I absolutely love it.

I've always been slightly weirded out by how perfect being in journalism suits me and my personality, considering I mostly fell into this profession by accident. And the variety is really great for me. One of my flaws is I get bored really easily and with a job that is really repetitive and predictable, I get bored and frustrated. I've never felt that way when I'm working in a newsroom. There are other reasons why I love doing what I do but today I was reminded why variety plays such a huge part in my happiness as a reporter.

Today I had two interviews lined up. The first was with this husband and wife. The husband is dying of cancer. He doesn't know when he's going to die but at this point, the cancer has gotten so bad it's not a matter of if but when. It was one of the hardest interviews I've ever had to do, from an emotional stand point. Here I was, talking to this man who is dying. Really, seriously dying. He has five kids, the youngest being four years old. She was playing in the other room and would dart out occasionally. He told me that while he no longer fears death and is okay with dying, he's so worried about who is going to take care of his "baby." He gestured to the little girl and it took everything I had not to cry. I was trying to be professional about the situation and it was incredibly hard for me. After the interview was over, I got in my car and immediately called my dad. I told him about the interview and burst into tears. I just had to let loose all that emotion that I had kept in check. My dad was sympathetic and listen to me blubber about this man and his situation. After talking to my dad, I got home, made and PB&J and watched the beginning of Toy Story 3 during my lunch break. I had to pull myself together since I had to return to the newsroom and listen to the interview on my recorder and write an article.

A few hours later, I was at the Cache Valley Fairgrounds interviewing another man for our "Making a Living" segment. It features people in the community with interesting jobs. I was interviewing a man who is a horse trainer and farrier. He has a handlebar mustache that goes a good inch and a half past his chin. He was wearing cowboy boots, cowboy hat, Levi jeans and a plaid button down shirt. I asked him how he was and he responded that he was "finer than frogs." The guy was hilarious. He told me about what he does for a living, which is training both horses and kids for rodeos and horse shows (4-H is big in this county) and he always had a joke or a anecdote to go along with everything. He had me rolling. While I was interviewing him, he was training a kid to rope cattle. There were two calves that the boy on the horse would practice chasing down on his horse and lassoing. I felt like such a city girl around the man, the boy and the boy's father. I never grew up around anything like this so it's all very strange to me. But it was obvious that the man knew what he was talking about and was very good at what he did. Not only that, but it was obvious that the man loved his job, absolutely loved what he did.

After the interview was over, I couldn't help but reflect at what my day in my career had brought me. Earlier, I had a brief mini emotional break down from interviewing a man with maybe a year or less to live. Then I was laughing my ass off at the jokes and stories of a real cowboy. The comparison made me laugh. Not every day is like this when you're a reporter. We have our boring days too. But today kind of epitomizes just how random a journalist's life can be. And I can't imagine doing anything else.

Love you.
Mean it.

Life in Logan so far.

Now that I've lived in Logan for one week exactly, I think it's about time I catch the interwebs up with my oh so important life here.

I have a wonderful little one-bedroom apartment that is more spacious than you'd think. It has a washer/dryer and a dish washer and tons of storage. It's clean, modern and cute. As I said, it's one bedroom, one bath and has a rather big living room that feels a bit empty considering the only furniture in it is my desk on one wall and my two bookcases on the adjacent wall.  I finally have a bed (so nice) and my mom came up the other day and bought me a kitchen table and chairs. This was really appreciated considering I had been eating all my meals on the floor like some kind of hobo. The thing I'm really missing now is a couch. If anyone reading this right now currently owns the couch, thank whatever maker you may or may not believe in that you do. I miss couches.

Anyway, my job is just awesome. I've already written about five articles, all of which have been published in the newspaper. I really love my coworkers. They've all been super helpful and friendly. There's far less swearing than I'm used to in newsrooms (see: City Weekly & the UVU Review) but I'm sure I'll adjust just fine. My beat is the K-12 education reporter which gives me plenty of stuff to do. Today I was with the Logan School District Board of Education as they visited Mount Logan Middle School. Seeing all those pre-teen/teens running around made me so grateful that I had the good sense to get out of being a teacher when I did. What was I thinking???

The only real down side to my moving here is I find myself feeling terribly lonely. I don't really know anyone. Thank goodness my old friend Maggie was smart enough to let me know that she lives here and I'm hoping to have dinner with her soon. My aunt Dezi and uncle Scott also live nearby and I know that they'll have me over any time I want. But other than that, I find myself alone at night not really sure what to do with myself. I know I want to somehow go out and meet people but I'm not entirely sure how to go about it. How do adults meet other adults in a non-creepy way? I keep telling myself it's only been a week and I can't be expected to have best buddies by now but it's slightly depressing to be all alone so much. I might just get a dog for company.

Love you.
Mean it.

Growing up is a weird thing

Well, this is it.

I'm currently sitting in my nearly bare bedroom with Randy beside me. My room is bare of nearly all my possessions minus my furniture. Everything else is packed up and in either my garage or in the downstairs living room. It's funny when you pack up everything you own. Two thoughts come into your head. The first is how did I ever acquire so much crap? The second is does all of this add up to my life? I hope the answer to the latter is a firm no. I don't even want to begin to answer the former.

I'm moving up to Logan on Monday. Well, I'm officially moving on Monday. I'm starting to move my stuff in on Sunday. And it looks like I'll be doing it all by myself. My folks are taking a mini vacation to Yellowstone so the plan is that I'll take up as much of my stuff as humanly possible and then my folks will bring up what's left and my furniture, including my bed. Until then, I will be sleeping on a sleeping pad–the same kind we use on camping trips.

I start work at my new job at the Herald Journal on Tuesday. It's an exciting time to be Kelly. I am now a professional reporter, though it is taking my brain a bit of time to wrap around that idea. I'll be working full-time, coming home to my beautiful apartment that I rent by myself, and doing adult type stuff like pay bills and cook dinner. I know it may seem silly for a 24-year-old girl to be dazed by the idea of being an adult but honestly, it's hard to feel like one when you live with your parents.

I feel as if my life has really finally begun. Or rather, that new part of my life that I've been wanting and waiting for desperately for so long has finally begun. I've wanted this so badly. It's a funny thing though. Now that I've started my career, I'm moving out, and finally getting on with my life, I'm feeling a bit daunted. There's this feeling of "now what?" I've wanted this for so long that it's starting to feel a bit weird not having it to look forward to. I guess now the only thing left is to do my job, do it well, settle into my new life, and enjoy it. Should be fun.

Growing up is a weird thing. When we were younger, we saw people who were 24 or whatever and considered them to be "grown up." We even call them "grown-ups." But now I find myself at that age and I certainly don't feel grow up. I feel like I've always felt, that I'm making this up as I go along. I guess when I was younger, I had the impression that grown-ups knew what they were doing, that they had a plan and knew what their life was. I don't feel any of those things. But I don't feel like I've done something wrong or that I'm the exception. Rather, I know that it was the younger me who got it wrong. I don't think any grown-up really knows what's going on or what they're doing with their life, at least, not until they're in they're middle-aged. I'm still fairly young and I think it's okay if I don't know what I'm doing or that I feel like I'm making it up as I'm going because, as the good Doctor once said, I'm doing it brilliantly.

Love you.
Mean it.

Is lazy a style?

As you may or may not know, I am not very good at being humble. I know when I am really good at something and I'm not going to hide that fact just because others may view me as being prideful. In my mind, it's not being prideful if it's true. For instance, I know I am a damn fine writer. I'm also very smart and clever and freaking hilarious and awesome. I'm not prideful. I'm just very self-aware.

However, self-awareness is a double edged sword. I know all of my good qualities and all the things I am really good at but I also am painfully aware of what I am really lousy at. For instance, I took a physics class once and it kicked my trash. The professor would put these multiple choice questions on the board and we'd have to use those little clicker things to select our answer. Not only would I pick the wrong answer but I'd pick the most wrong answer you could possible chose. I am no good at physics. Other things I am really bad at include: basketball, drawing, cooking, riding horses, spelling words out loud, cutting bread straight, and doing math in my head.

But lately I've become ever more aware of one other thing that I am really lousy at and that is fashion. I am really lousy at dressing myself, which is pretty weird considering I've been doing it for most of my life. The reason I've become more aware of how bad I am at this is through watching the show Project Runway. I love this show. I have ever since the first season (it's now on its tenth season. I'm rooting for Dimytri. His stuff is just gorgeous). But every week, I watch these designers make something just beautiful and fashion forward and awesome and then I look down at my own ensemble: red Converse, skinny jeans, and a black Batman t-shirt. My hair is in a single braid down my back with lots of flyaways, my nails are painted a vibrant blue but it chipped, and six of my ten fingers have rings on them.

I'm not even sure you can call why I wear a "style," per-say. I'm just kind of lazy when it comes to my clothing decisions. I wear jeans and a t-shirt nearly every day because it's easy and comfortable. I wear Converse cause sandals hurt my feet and they get cold really easy. My hair is usually curly and tied back cause curly is what my hair wants to do and tied back is out of my way. I'm not sure why I like paining my nails but I like painting them in bright, vibrant colors cause if I'm going to go to all that effort to paint them, people are going to notice them. The rings are my own little way of paying tribute to the memories of my life. So pretty much, if I had to describe my style, the best word is probably lazy.

I just don't like spending that much time worrying about what I wear or putting in a lot of time to look nice. It's just not a priority to me. I've got other stuff I could be doing like hanging out with friends or reading a book or playing with my dog. When I watch shows like Project Runway, part of me wishes I would put more effort into what I wear. And, granted, if I'm going out with the girls or to a party, I will put in a bit more effort and maybe wear a sundress or something. But after a suitable amount of time has passed from watching the show, I just slip back into my old routine. And I'm okay with it. I don't really dress up that often cause that's just not who I am. I'm a pretty laid back kind of girl and my style reflects that in a sense.

Love you.
Mean it.

Unexpected side effects

Remember a bit ago when I said I was trying to go off all my medications? Well, I am proud to announce that I have reduced my medication intake by 66%. And the medications I no longer take just so happen to be the most addictive ones so go me!

The only trouble right now is that those specific medications also happen to be stimulants. And by removing them from my body, I am exhausted all the time. It's pretty bad. On my days off, I'm sleeping in till 2 p.m. without waking up once. And even after that, I'm taking a nap by 5 p.m. It looks like my body is going to need some time adjusting to the lack of stimulants it has relied on for the past eight years.

My entire life, I've always remembered my dreams. And I seem to have them every time I sleep, no matter if it's during the night or just a quick little nap. I always dream and I always remember them. That being said, my dreams have become much more vidid that they have ever been before. It's kind of alarming. I don't necessarily care for it. I won't go into what I dream about (cause there are very few things more boring in this universe than having someone tell you what their dreams were about), but I will say that they seem to physically and mentally wear me out. I'll wake up from a particularly intense dream and I'll feel like I didn't sleep at all. Sometimes the dreams really upset me, mostly because of the subject matter but sometimes just from the oppressive nature of the dream.

I don't regret my decision to go off my medication, even if it is screwing up my body a bit. These are just unexpected side effects. Hopefully they'll go away soon.

Love you.
Mean it.

I don't know what the hell I'm doing

Well, it's official. My sister, Kathy, is engaged. She's marrying this tall, lanky kid from Idaho named Brian. They're getting married Nov. 16 and they couldn't be happier. She's all giggles and smiles. It'd be annoying if I weren't so happy for her. Her first engagement didn't work out too well but I'm pretty sure this one is going to stick. I really like my soon to be brother-in-law, much more so than the other one and I'm happy that Kathy is finally happy.

The only odd think about this whole situation is Kathy is about three years younger than me. It's kind of weird seeing my younger sister get married, especially considering that in the time Kathy broke off her one engagement, found another guy and then got engaged, I dated one guy for less than a month and have been on absolutely no other dates. I think it's time to admit something. When it comes to dating, I don't know what the hell I'm doing.

I've been dating since I was 14 years old. You'd think after 10 years I'd at least have an idea of how to attract a man, flirt, date, etc. But no. I really have no idea how to go about it at all. Whenever I think about my dating life, I get the sudden urge to bang my head against a wall. I feel like it was at one point much easier than it is now. My friends still tease me about how easy it was for me to get a guy back in the day.

This is a true story, told to me by one of my best friends. Once upon a time that was more like senior year of high school, I was coming off a year and a half relationship and I was back on the market. There was this boy I was interested in and he and my friends were over at my house. I was sitting next to the boy and we were listening to music on my iPod. I guess a song I liked came in and I inched closer to said boy and said something like "Oh my gosh! I love [Insert Band Name Here]" My friend then leaned into her twin (also my friend) and said, "And she swoops in for the kill." Back then, catching guys' hearts was a game to me and I was really good at it. These days, catching guys' hearts may still be a game but either the rules have changed or else I one day got really bad at it.

I'd like to think that there are a plethora of guys out there whose hearts I unwittingly hold in my hand but that's just silly daydreams better suited for a 13-year-old girl, not a mature 24-year-old woman. I'm coming slowly to the realization that I may be single my entire life. And while I am a feminist and I don't believe I need a man to feel fulfilled in my life, I do think it'd be nice to have someone there to spend the rest of my life with.

Of course, all this frustration and worry that I'm an old maid may be due to the fact that I live in Utah and by Utah's standards, 24 and single does qualify me for old maid status. Hell, a lot of my friends my age not only are married but have kids (there's a truly terrifying thought). It's hard not to feel like I'm missing something in my life when everyone around has something I don't–a person they care about to come home to. Just add it to the list of reasons why I need to move out of Utah.

Love you.
Mean it.

Paid to pray, sing, & be called names

Right now I'm working three jobs. Two of my jobs involve me writing words, which is pretty awesome considering that's what I love to do and what I want to do for the rest of my life. The other one is a bit rougher to deal with. I work for an organization (which shall remain unnamed. I don't want to get in trouble somehow) that offers in home care to adults with physical/mental/emotional/psychological problems. It's an interesting enough job though I really don't think we get paid enough for the shit we have to deal with and the dangers we put ourselves in.

Yes, you read that correctly. Dangers. Sometimes the clients can become really aggressive and violent for one reason or another and can try to attack you or throw things at you. Everyone has to go through a training program to prepare them for what may happen. I've experience very little of this so far.

The only real time I have to deal with this stuff is when I'm working with this one client. Because of confidentiality stuff, we'll call her "Stacy." Stacy is in her 50s but has the mental capacity of a 1 or 2 year old. She doesn't talk very well but can make herself understood well enough. Stacy can have these fits sometimes when she doesn't want to do something or something upsets her or for some unknown reason. She she has these fits, she yells, screams incoherently, bites herself, hits her head on walls, hits her wrists on walls, and tries to grab other people. The other day the other staff and I were showering Stacy. Stacy HATES to shower and it's a long and difficult process. Despite not having that big of a vocabulary, Stacy knows a lot of swear words and would call us a stream of profanities that I'm too ladylike to repeat here. I know she doesn't really mean it and if she does, she doesn't fully understand what is going on. I'm not offended by what she says and it doesn't bother me. It just is kind of bewildering to me that I get paid to be called these names.

One thing that can calm Stacy down is music and singing. When we got her in bed after showering, she was still in a really bad mood and would scream and bit herself. I sat down at the edge of the bed and rubbed her back. I started singing to her. I started off with the song "If I Had Words" from the movie Babe. 

It's a really pretty song. I learned to play it on the piano when I was younger and I never forgot the lyrics. It's a pretty short song so I started singing it again. After singing it twice, Stacy got wise and started freaking out again. So I scrambled to think of another song to sing. Nothing was coming. She was starting to get really irritated and aggressive so I just started singing and this is what came out:

Yes, I started singing the theme from Firefly. It was the only thing I could think of. But, hey. It did the trick.

Another client I work with is in her late 20s and has too many problems to list here. She's fully functional physically and can talk just fine. The other night when she was in bed, she asked me to come into her room. I sat on her bed and she held my hand. She wanted to say her evening prayer and asked me to say it. I immediately began to squirm. I don't believe in a god so I definitely don't believe in prayer. I didn't want to have to explain to her that if I said the prayer, it probably wouldn't work. It's like a prayer I would say would be instantly void. So I told her I didn't know how to pray, that I never learned, which is a lie but I didn't care at that point. She then began to pray as I awkwardly sat there holding her hand.

Honestly, I cannot wait to get a real journalism job so I can be paid to write words and not pray, sing, and be called names.

Love you.
Mean it.

Dear 29-year-old Kelly

Dear 29-year-old Kelly,

Hello, there future Kelly. How is the year 2017 treating you? I hope this letter finds you well. Things are a bit weird right now in the old 2012 so I thought I'd shoot you a letter just to remind you how things are going for 24-year-old Kelly.

First things first, you'd better be goddamn successful, 29-year-old Kelly. I'm doing all of the hard work so you'd better not have squandered it. Right now, I'm working three jobs. One is that internship at City Weekly (which I absolutely LOVE but it doesn't pay so wah, wah), the other is another internship with Foretelligent writing for trade magazines and such (and it pays!) and the last one is with Northeastern Services, where I help people with mental, emotional, and psychological disorders. I'm tired all the time and I commute like a mofo. So you'd better be at a place where all my hard work has paid off. Ideally, you'd better be on staff at some really awesome newspaper or magazine, preferably out of Utah. And you'd better love your job. If you don't, go somewhere else. Remember when you used to say that you don't care where you work as long as you make enough to not stress over money and you love your job? I really hope you still believe that. If I were getting paid to work at City Weekly, I'd be set. But anyway, at the very least, please, oh please, don't still be living with mom and dad. Right now it's okay for me to still be living with the folks considering I just barely graduated from UVU and have no money. But to be 29 and still living at home is embarrassing. Don't be that person, 29-year-old Kelly.

Also, I hope your love life is going well. And by that, I mean I hope a love life exists for you. I broke up with Jacob Hyden (remember him?) about a month ago and it's been pretty slow goings since then. I'm not bothered by it in the least. And I'm not just saying that cause that's what I always say. I really mean it this time. I'm quite happy being single right now. With all the other chaos in my life, I don't really have time to be in a new relationship. I'm fine just where I am, thank you. Hopefully you've found the time to have a relathionship.

It just occurred to me that you might be married. If this is true, good for you/us! How did you two meet? Wait, no. Don't tell me. I want to be surprised. I hope it's a good story, one to tell the kids and grandkids about. I wonder what he's like. The only thing I know for sure is that he makes you happy, like ridiculously happy. The only way I could see myself getting married was if he made me so happy that while I could see myself being able to one day be without him, I don't ever want to. Does that make sense? I hope it does and that's how you feel about this guy. I can't wait to meet him.

Wait, do you two have kids??? That's going to be weird. I hope that you're much more comfortable about the idea of having kids cause right now, 24-year-old Kelly is terrified of being a momma. I'll leave that to you. I'm sure you'll be much better at it than me.

Well, 29-year-old Kelly, in general, I hope you're doing okay, that you're happy with your possible husband and possible children. And if you don't have either of those, I still hope you're happy. I hope you love your job and love your life. And, if you have the time, think back to when you were me, 24-year-old Kelly writing this on the kitchen table in mom and dad's house and think about everything that's changed and happened and it makes you smile.  I hope your pile of good things is bigger than your pile of bad things.

Love you.
Mean it.

24-year-old Kelly

As Heard in the Newsroom, Part 8

This is the last As Heard in the Newsroom. I have to say, the group of people I worked with at the UVU Review are some of the finest people I've ever met. Not only are they some of the most talent people I know, they're also some of the funniest, kindest, most wonderful people I know. We put out a quality paper every week that we were proud of while having the time of our lives. I am going to miss working with them and calling the newsroom home and I consider myself so blessed to ahve been apart of it for as long as I did. 

Be friendly cause you don’t know which 20 are excited.
–Andrea 

I seriously considered going into mortuary science this morning. 

-Andrea

Who’s feeling like a seizure?
-Christina

J.R.! I hope you’re drunk right now.
-Christina

Jarom, this is why people don’t sit next to you.
-Christina

Are you self medicating with pizza?
-Christina

Bill Murray was looking at me through the mirror and it was freaking me out.
-Christina

Country singers killed in plane crashes is tragic.
-Connor

I was giving him CPR from here.
-Cortney

Wait, I though Gilbert was black.
–Cortney

That word sounds dirty! Strobe...
-Elyse

I can’t [Facebook] chat with you. I have lots of stuff to do.
-Elyse

What does it mean when I’ve lost all interest in doing what I normally love? Isn’t that a sign for clinical depression?
-Elyse

Hey, creative word people.
-Elyse

It should be pretty racist.
-Eric

That guy looks like he’s Ryan Gosling and he’s seven.
-Eric

J.R., you look like Harry Potter Prisoner of Azkaban.
-Eric

Turns out Pete’s a Chinese guy and his food sucks.
-Eric

Jimmy Kimmel is a dick.
-Eric

It’s like running but for your brain.
-Eric

Chucks transcend all social statuses, ages, and cliques.
-Eric

If it’s good enough for Jay-Z, it’s good enough for J.R.
-Eric

Do you know what button I recently rediscovered? The escape button. It really does what it says it will.
–Eric

What you’re seeing is the basic Gilbert outfit.
-Gilbert

Unless it has Final Fantasy in front of it, I don’t recognize it.
-Gilbert on Roman Numerals

J.R., thanks to your tweets, I'll never get married. I'll be all alone, just me & my piggy bank.
-Gilbert

This one time, I ate donuts for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Don't ever do that.
-Gilbert

I need to get married, man. Does your wife have any friends with low self-esteem?
-Gilbert

Just wait until I'm Student Body President, J.R. I'll make you kiss my ring.
-Gilbert

My Dungeons & Dragons character is a pixie. A pixie blade maid. Her name is Kilbert the Pixie.
-Gilbert

I ended up watching a whole episode. Dude - talk about drama!
-Gilbert about the show Teen Mom

J.R., what does it mean to make it rain?
–Gilbert

I am J.R.’s son.
I am so ashamed.
-Gilbert & John-Ross

Gilbert, as your financial advisor, I advise you against making it rain.
–Jarom

It must be true love or really convenient.
-Jarom

You like to read. I don’t want to talk to you.
-Jarom on compatibility in relationships.

So you’re saying Jesus is Iron Man?
-Jarom

Kelly, we don’t fight nearly enough.
-Jarom

I know I did something clever.
-Jeff

Sometimes I feel like you’re a hummingbird and I’m a sloth.
-Jeff to Kelly

My home teachers started following me on Twitter. I’m so screwed.
-Jeff

For reals. Learn some shit.
-Jeff on doing homework

Hashtag that to your face!
-Jeff

Who took footage of my body and photoshopped David Beckham’s head on it?
-Jeff

I’d hate to be inside your head.
How do you think I feel?
-Jeff & Kelly

I hate you.
No you don’t.
-Jeff & Kelly

Besides you couldn't handle 100%. Nobody I've met yet can.
You're like a nuclear reactor or something.
-Jeff & Kelly

What do you call that? Scatter-brained?
Yeah, or just stupid.
-Jeff & Kelly

You played Zelda all break. Go read a book.
-John-Ross to Gilbert

They will be tough but fair.
-John-Ross on writing obituaries

Nah, I shouldn’t say that. Jesus is a cool dude.
-John-Ross

I have taught Gilbert how to hold a lady’s hand.
-John-Ross

As the self-appointed newsroom fire chief...
-John-Ross

He’s eating chicken nuggets with a lady tonight. And that’s not a euphemism. He really is eating chicken nuggets.
–John-Ross

Damnit, Gilbert! Sit in the chair!
–John-Ross

I told you, Gilbert. Foot fetish is real!
–John-Ross

And with that, I bid you all a fond “fuck off.”
–John-Ross

Oh, I know. I read the interwebs.
–John-Ross

What’s your wildest dream? A golf cart?
Yep, pretty much.
–John-Ross & Christina

I’ve never seen your wife.
Are you even married?
-John-Ross & Tom toward Matt

Sasquatch isn’t playful. He eats your face.
-Kelly

There’s no way I’m the only person to ever use hashtag intellectual snob.
-Kelly

I’d like to get married once before I die. Just once. I’m not greedy.
-Kelly

Think back like 20 years...no, wait. That’s too many. Think back 10 years.
-Kelly

It’s not stalking–it’s work.
-Kelly

A paper napkin is more complex than Twilight.
-Kelly

I want to have the library in Beauty and the Beast. That’s all.
-Kelly

I’ve printed bigger things.
-Kelly

I don’t know why I just said that when I meant to say this.
-Kelly

I think if we weren’t friends, I’d hate you.
-Kelly to Jeff

It was super fun racism.
You know what else was fun? The Holocaust.
–Kelly & Gilbert

Do you think I’m a snob?
No, but that’s cause I know you.
-Kelly & Jeff

I just shot down everything you just said.
Well, fuck you.
-Kelly & Jeff

I am so sick of the sports group being accused of racism.
-Matt

This is my passion and it’s being ripped away from me in legal terms I don’t understand.
-Matt on the NBA lockout

I’m 28 and still working on my Bachelor’s.
I’m 30 and you can shut up.
-Matt & Drew

I am a media, damnit! Write me a press release!
-Vanessa

I'll See You When I See You, Part Two: A Promise Kept

I didn't really expect it to happen. I mean, I hoped it would happen. I wanted it to happen. But I didn't believe it would. It made it less painful when it didn't.

But then, out of the blue, I get a message. He would be passing through town soon and he wanted to see me.

Before he left nearly a year ago, we talked about that old expression, "I'll see you when I see you." It was all we could say to each other when the time came to say goodbye. What else was there to say? Those stupid words filled me with such sadness. It encompassed that naive hope of youth that people can stay close despite the fact they leave with the cynicism of adulthood knowing the odds are stacked against them.

He saw it differently. He saw it as almost a promise. We would see each other again, even if he didn't know how long it would take. I wanted to believe him but in my heart I knew it was a long shot.

But I looked up and suddenly there he was. And just looking at him made me feel as if nothing had changed. He had the same blond hair, the same pale blue eyes, the same broad smile. I threw my arms around him as he whispered in my ear, "I told you I'd see you again." We talked about what was going on in my life and what was going on in his. He asked me how much longer until I could get out of this place. I lamented of my extremely poor status despite working three jobs and said it's still very much in the future.

After not nearly long enough, he had to leave and I had to get back to work. I hugged him tight and he held on so fiercely. We stepped back and he smiled that same smile. "I'll see you when I see you," he said. I laughed and repeated the phrase back. It's the same seven words but this time, I'm counting on them. And I can't wait to see him again.

Love you.
Mean it.

That's how we'll live forever, my love.

but I do believe in you
and the love we will one day have.
I believe in that so fiercely.

I believe in the nights we will have
tangled in the sheets,
laughing till the sunlight seeps into our room,
in the fights and forgiveness we'll share,
in the terror of parenthood,
and the joy of welcoming another into our love.

I believe in our love lasting till we're old and broken
and the last kiss we'll share
before whatever comes next takes one of us away.
And I believe that our love will be passed
from our children to their children to their children
and that's how we'll live forever, my love.

Please save me from the monsters

I sometimes send out late night texts to certain people. I'm sure everyone has done something similar. We do it for various reasons. Me? I'm just looking for someone to talk to, even if it's through communication's most empty form.

I hate the night. Facing nights alone is almost unbearable.

When you were really little, you believed monsters came out at night. Monsters always come out in the dark. That's why you were so afraid of the dark. When you got older, you stopped believing that because you were too old to believe in monsters anymore.

When you reach adulthood, you realized monsters are indeed real and they do come out at night. But they aren't the gouls & demons in physical form that frightened you as a child. No. They are the thoughts that haunt you, torment you, those memories you can't seem to forget. The reality of your mortality is a monster, as is the knowledge of your loneliness and the fear of insanity.

So when I reach out & send those texts late at night, no matter what I write, I'm only saying one thing: Please save me from the monsters.

I lost a friend tonight

I lost a friend tonight.

I guess his girlfriend used his phone while he was asleep
to instruct me to never talk to him again.
I didn't argue with her.
What could I say?
It's not my place to come between him and her.
So I agreed to her terms,
put down my phone,
and burst into tears.

Lessons from Doctor Who

If you didn't know already, I am a huge fan of Doctor Who. It's a freaking brilliant television show. The other day, I was chatting with my dear friend Joe (who is the guy who first introduced me to Doctor Who) and we were discussing tattoos and how I really want a Doctor Who quote tattooed on me somewhere. The only trouble is there are so many great quotes from Doctor Who that I'm not sure I could pick just one.

The thing is Doctor Who provides a lot of really great lessons/ideas/whatever you want to call them and I'm convinced if people watched Doctor Who and took those lessons/ideas/whatever to heart, I think (cliche aside) the world would be better. So here are some quotes from Doctor Who that have inspired me the most (and some I just like for the hell of it).


Can it be that I have the world entirely wrong?

Not wrong. There's just more to learn.

–Charles Dickens & The Doctor, "The Unquiet Dead"

1941. Right now, not very far from here, the German war machine is rolling up the map of Europe. Country after country, falling like dominoes. Nothing can stop it, nothing. Until one tiny, damp little island says "No. No, not here." A mouse in front of a lion. You're amazing, the lot of you. I don't know what you did to Hitler, but you frighten the hell out of me.

–The Doctor, "The Empty Child"

Then prove yourself, Doctor! What are you? Coward, or killer?
Coward. Any day.

–Dalek Emperor & The Doctor, "The Parting of Ways" 

The universe has to move forward. Pain and loss, they define us as much as happiness or love. Whether it's a world or a relationship, everything has its time. And everything ends.

–Sarah Jane, "School Reunion"

Some things are worth getting your heart broken for.

–Sarah Jane, "School Reunion"

Don't worry Reinette, it's just a nightmare. Everyone has nightmares; even big scary monsters from under the bed have nightmares, don't you, monster?
What do monsters have nightmares about?
Me! Ha!

–The Doctor & Reinette, "The Girl in the Fireplace"

What's a horse doing on a spaceship?
Mickey, what's pre-revolutionary France doing on a spaceship? Get a little perspective!

–Mickey & The Doctor, "The Girl in the Fireplace"

One may tolerate a world of demons for the sake of an angel.

–Reinette, "The Girl in the Fireplace"

They're people.
They were. 'Til they had all their humanity taken away. It's a living brain jammed inside a cybernetic body. With a heart of steel. All emotions removed.
Why no emotion?
Because it hurts.

–Rose & The Doctor, "Rise of the Cybermen"

How do we do that?
Oh, I'll think of something.
You're just making this up as you go along.
Yep. But I do it brilliantly.

–Mickey & The Doctor, "The Age of Steel"

But if this is the original, does that make it real? Does that make it the actual Devil?
Well, if that's what you want to believe. Maybe that's what the Devil is in the end: an idea.

–Ida & The Doctor, "The Satan Pit"

I've seen fake gods and bad gods and demi-gods and would-be gods. Out of all that, out of that whole pantheon, if I believe in one thing–just one thing–I believe in her.

–The Doctor, "The Satan Pit"

I believe I haven't seen everything, I don't know. It's funny, isn't it? The things you make up—the rules. If that thing had said it came from beyond the universe I'd believe it, but before the universe... that's impossible. It doesn't fit in my rules. Still, that's why I keep traveling. To be proved wrong.

–The Doctor, "The Satan Pit"

So, there you go. Turns out I've had the most terrible things happen. And the most brilliant things. Sometimes, well, I can't tell the difference. They're all the same thing. They're just me.

–Elton, "Love & Monsters"

When you're a kid, they tell you it's all "Grow up. Get a job. Get married. Get a house. Have a kid," and that's it.But the truth is, the world is so much stranger than that. It's so much darker. And so much madder...And so much better.

–Elton, "Love & Monsters"

Doctor, they've got guns.
And I haven't. Which makes me the better person, don't you think? They can shoot me dead but the moral high ground is mine.

–Rose & The Doctor, "Army of Ghosts"

You are proof...That emotions destroy.
Yeah, I am. Mind you, I quite like hope. Hope's a good emotion.

-Cyberman & The Doctor, "Doomsday"

You step on a butterfly, you change the human race.
Then don't step on any butterflies. What do you have against butterflies?

–Martha & The Doctor, "The Shakespeare Code"

Some people live more in twenty years than others do in eighty. It's not the time that matters, it's the person.

–The Doctor, "The Lazarus Experiment" 

There's no such thing as an ordinary human.
–The Doctor, "The Lazarus Experiment"

People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect. But actually from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint, it's more like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey... stuff.

–The Doctor, "Blink"

Mankind doesn't need warfare and bloodshed to prove itself. Everyday life can provide honour and valour. Let's hope that from now on this country can find its heroes in smaller places. In the most ordinary of deeds.

–John Smith (The Doctor), "Human Nature"

Name?
General Staal of the Tenth Sontaran Battle Fleet. "Staal The Undefeated!"
Oh that's no good. What if you get defeated? "Staal The Not-Quite-So-Undefeated-Any-More-But-Never-Mind?"

–The Doctor & General Stall, "The Sontaran Stratagem" 

We always have a choice.

–The Doctor, "The Doctor's Daughter"

You want weapons? We're in a library! Books! The best weapons in the world!

–The Doctor, "Silence in the Library"

I never land on Sundays. Sundays are boring.

–The Doctor, "Silence in the Library"

I'm not scared.

'Course you're not! You're not afraid of anything. Box falls out of the sky, man falls out of the box, man eats fish custard. And look at you, just sitting there. So you know what I think.
What?
Must be a hell of a scary crack in your wall.

–Amelia & The Doctor, "The Eleventh Hour"

One little girl crying. So?
Crying silently. i mean children cry because they want attention. 'Cause they're hurt or afraid. When they cry silently it's 'cause they just can't stop.

–Amy & The Doctor, "The Beast Below"

What are you going to do?
What I always do. Stay out of trouble. Badly.

–Amy & The Doctor, "The Beast Below"

Now then. Rory. We need to talk about your fiancée. She tried to kiss me. Tell you what though, you're a lucky man. She's a great kisser...Funny how you can say something in your head and it sounds fine.

–The Doctor, "Vampires of Venice"

Anywhere you want. Any time you want. One condition: it has to be amazing.

–The Doctor, "Vampires of Venice"

That's the one thing that doesn't make sense. Let's go poke it with a stick.

–The Doctor, "Amy's Choice"

Excuse me, I'm making perfect sense. You're just not keeping up.

–The Doctor, "The Hungry Earth"

Lovely place to grow up 'round here.
I suppose. I want to live in the city one day. As soon as I'm old enough I'll be off.
I was the same way where I grew up.
Did you get away?
Yeah...
Do you ever miss it?
So much.

–The Doctor & Elliot, "The Hungry Earth"

Have you met monsters before?

Yeah.
Are you scared of them?
No. They're scared of me.

Elliot & The Doctor, "The Hungry Earth"

You know, it seems to me there's so much more to the world than the average eye's allowed to see. I believe, if you look hard, there are more wonders in this universe than you could ever have dreamed of.

–Vincent Van Gogh, "Vincent and the Doctor"

The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don't always soften the bad things, but vice versa. The bad things don't necessarily spoil the good things or make them unimportant. And we definitely added to his pile of good things.

–The Doctor, "Vincent and the Doctor"

Has anyone ever told you that you're a bit weird?

They never really stop.

–Craig & The Doctor, "The Lodger"

Never ignore a coincidence. Unless you're busy. In which case always ignore a coincidence.

–The Doctor, "The Pandorica Opens"

People fall out of the world sometimes but they always leave traces. Little things we can't quite account for. Faces in photographs. Luggage. Half-eaten meals. Rings. Nothing is ever forgotten, not completely. And if something can be remembered it can come back.

–The Doctor, "The Pandorica Opens"

The Universe is big. It's vast and complicated and ridiculous. And sometimes—very rarely—impossible things just happen and we call them miracles.

–The Doctor, "The Pandorica Opens"

Your girlfriend isn't more important than the whole universe.

She is to me!

–The Doctor & Rory, "The Big Bang"

You'll remember me a little. I'll be a story in your head. That's okay. We're all stories in the end. Just make it a good one, eh? 'Cause it was, you know. It was the best.

–The Doctor, "The Big Bang"

I hate you.
No you don't.

–River Song & The Doctor, "The Impossible Astronaut"

Yeah, right. Cursed. It's big with humans. It means bad things are happening but you can't be bothered to find an explanation.

–The Doctor, "The Curse of the Black Spot"

Biting's excellent! It's like kissing. Only there's a winner.

–Idris, "The Doctor's Wife"

You want to be forgiven.

Don't we all?

–Amy & The Doctor, "The Doctor's Wife"

Then you stole me. And I stole you.
I borrowed you.
Borrowing implies the eventual intention to return the thing that was taken. What makes you think I would ever give you back?

–Idris & The Doctor, "The Doctor's Wife"

Okay, right. I don't... I really don't know what to do. That's a new feeling.

–The Doctor, "The Doctor's Wife"

You didn't always take me where I wanted to go.
No, but I always took you where you needed to go.

–The Doctor & Idris, "The Doctor's Wife"

Look at you pair. It's always you and her isn't it? Long after the rest of us have gone. A boy and his box off to see the universe.
Well, you say that as if it's a bad thing. But honestly it's the best thing there is.

–Amy & The Doctor, "The Doctor's Wife"

Yes, it's insane. And it's about to get even more insaner. Is that a word?

–The Doctor, "The Rebel Flesh"

Doctor I am frightened. I'm properly, properly scared.

Don't be. Hold on. We're coming for you, I swear. Whatever happens, however hard, however far, we will find you.

–Amy & The Doctor, "The Almost People"

The anger of a good man is not a problem. Good men have too many rules.
Good men don't need rules. Today is not the day to find out why I have so many.

Madame Kovarium & The Doctor, "A Good Man Goes to War"

My whole brain just went "What the hell."

–The Doctor, "A Christmas Carol"

Oh, you should always waste time when you don't have any. Time is not the boss of you. Rule 408.

–The Doctor, "Let's Kill Hitler"

Don't run. Now I know you're scared. But never run when you're scared. Rule 7. Please.

–The Doctor, "Let's Kill Hitler"

That's what it's called. Pantophobia. Not fear of pants though, if that's what you're thinking. It's the fear of everything. Including pants, I suppose. In that case... Sorry. go on.

–The Doctor, "Night Terrors"

You know when sometimes you meet someone so beautiful and then you actually talk to them and five minutes later they're as dull as a brick? Then there's other people, when you meet them you think, "Not bad. They're okay." And then you get to know them and... and their face just sort of becomes them. Like their personality's written all over it. And they just turn into something so beautiful.

–Amy, "The Girl Who Waited"

It goes up, tiddly up! It goes down, diddly down. For only £49.99, which I personally think is a bit steep. But then again, it's your parent's cash and they'll only waste it on boring stuff like lamps and vegetables. Yawn!

–The Doctor, "Closing Time"

Doctor, are you going to kiss me?
Yes, Craig. Yes I am. Would you like that? Bit out of practice but I've had some wonderful feedback.

–Craig & The Doctor, "Closing Time"

Yeah, you always win. You always survive.
Those were the days.

–Craig & The Doctor, "Closing Time"

You could be anything. You could walk amongst the stars. They don't actually look like that you know. They're a lot more impressive.You know when I was little like you I dreamt of the stars. Yeah. I think it's fair to say, in the language of your age, that I lived my dream. I owned the stage. Gave it a hundred and ten percent. I hope you have as much fun as I did, Alfie.

–The Doctor, "Closing Time"

You went back in time. That means you used up your hours. what about Exidor?
What about you being in trouble with Sophie when she comes back? I couldn't let that happen.
You used up your time for me?
Of course I did. You're me mate.

–Craig & The Doctor, "Closing Time"

You mentioned a woman.
Yes. I'm getting to her.
What's she like? Attractive, I assume.
Hell. In high heels.

–Winston Churchill & The Doctor, "The Wedding of River Song"

Why would you do this? Of all the things you've told me, this I find hardest to believe. Why? To invite your friends to see your death?
I had to die. I didn't have to die alone.

–Winston Churchill & The Doctor, "The Wedding of River Song"

However dark it got, I'd turn around an 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.

–The Doctor, "The Wedding of River Song"

And you are forgiven. Always and completely forgiven.

–The Doctor, "The Wedding of River Song"

Love you.

Mean it.

Atheism and religious music

I am an atheist. I don't believe in god, a higher power, some mystic energy, or anything like that. My view of the world is based on the idea of "what men do," meaning that everything in this existence, both good and bad, is the result of mankind and mankind only.

That being said, some of the most beautiful music I have ever enjoyed has been religious music. Most of my life, this didn't bother me since I was somewhat religious, if very bad at it. Yesterday at my sister's high school graduation, the choir sang two songs that are religious. I sang them at my graduation when I was in the choir. They are beautiful songs. But I began to think about their lyrics for the first time from an atheist perspective. As I've stated before, I listen to music mostly for the lyrics. And now that the lyrics from religious songs are no longer relevant to me (or worse, they say the exact opposite of what I believe in), does that mean I can no longer enjoy them?

Well, no. At least, I don't think so. Again, some religious music is incredibly beautiful both in melody and lyrics. And while I no longer believe in the words they are saying, I still find enjoyment in their beauty. For instance, here is one of the songs they sang yesterday: "Come Thou Fount."

Sorry it's MoTab. But isn't that beautiful? Even if you just listen without trying to pick up on the lyrics, it's glorious. Then you listen to the lyrics and it's even more beautiful. Maybe it's just the remnants of theistic upbringing but the part that says, "Prone to wander, lord I feel it. Prone to leave the god I love." There is a sadness and desire to be better in those words. And while I no longer believe in the need to please any god with how I live my life, I still remember those days of despair and desire to be with the god I loved.

The other song they sang yesterday was "Go Ye Now in Peace."

Still to this day, it's hard for me to listen to this song without tearing up. It reminds me so much of Mr. Larsen, our choir teacher in high school. This song is always taught in his A Cappella class at the end of every year. I like to think it's Mr. Larsen's way of saying goodbye to all the seniors. Mr. Larsen is a great teacher and a great man. He has touched so many lives and all of his students have nothing but love and respect for him.

The words to this song are absolutely stunning. Again, this may just be my old theistic ways talking but the concept of leaving in peace and knowing that you will be protected and loved is a beautiful idea. And even though I consider such ideas to be complete bullshit, I still can feel the appeal of such an idea. It's a lot less scary than going out on your own. Trust me. I've done both.

Not all of my favorite religious songs are so blatantly spiritual (and perhaps didactic). This one is called "Lamentations of Jeremiah."

It's all in Latin and it's still to this day one of the most powerful and haunting choral pieces I've ever heard. I'm getting chills just listening to it. It's from the bible and while my bible knowledge is shaky (at best) I know it's Jeremiah lamenting the destruction of Jerusalem. And while religious, it's hauntingly beautiful.

I think I've made my point (if I even had one to prove to begin with). So I'll leave you with a few more of my favorites.

"Joshua Fought the Battle of Jericho"

"Amazing Grace" by the Dropkick Murphys. For a long time I wanted this played at my funeral.

Love you.
Mean it.

Pour salt in the wounds.

It's getting worse.

The infection is spreading.

Like a cancer,

it festers and grows

polluting everything that once held meaning,

perverting everything that was once good.

Every street corner

every back alley

carries this sickness,

this disease of memory.

My hometown is overrun 

with infected memories
that I try so hard to forget
but never can. 

And like a cancer,

the only cure is to cut it out of my life

forever,
to leave this haunted city,
with its plague of phantoms
and haunted memories
and not look back.
Not even once. 

It would only pour salt in the wounds. 

Life never turns out the way you plan it.

I am a lioness stalking her prey.

Well, more like an lioness practically begging her prey to let her have them.

In case you didn't know, I'm unemployed. I've been unemployed for a while now but I was also going to school so it didn't matter much to me. Now that I'm graduated, it matters a whole lot.

First off, I would really, really love to move out of my parents' basement. But I can't do that until I have some income. Funny how that works, eh? Second, I am bored out of my freaking mind. I have nothing but time and more time on my hands. I wake up every morning at 8 a.m. and it's all downhill from there. I spend a lot of time on my computer applying for various jobs but there's definitely a limit to how much of that you can do in a day. The rest of the time is spent being idle and bored.

Mind you, I've been aggressively trying to acquire employment. I apply for anywhere between 10-30 jobs a day. I've been able to have three interviews so far but to no avail. Today and tomorrow I have other interviews. It's very hard not to get discouraged by all of this rejection. But when you have, on average, 25 applicants for every one job, the chances of success are rather bleak.

I'm finding a common theme in my life. It comes from the movie "While You Were Sleeping." It is "Life never turns out the way you plan it." It's almost uncanny how often I think of this line over the course of my day. Life never turns out the way you plan it. I'm not even talking about plans you make for years in the future. I'm talking more like plans you make just for a few weeks in the future. I had this one job interview that I thought went really well. So well, in fact, that I started to look for an apartment somewhere near where I would work. I got so excited about the prospect of starting a new chapter in my life. Then, thud. I got the news I didn't get the job. All my dreaming and planning up in smoke. It was terribly depressing. And I know I shouldn't have counted my chickens before they hatched but it's unbearably hard not to. Right now, I feel like I'm in arrested development (the expression, not the t.v. show. The latter might be pretty cool.). I want so desperately to start a new chapter in my life, to try something new, to have an adventure in living. But no. I'm stuck right where I was a few months ago. Even worse so, since I don't have school to give me something to do everyday. I feel like I'm just ricocheting in an endless void with no real direction or purpose. It's frightening, yes. But more so, it's just boring as hell.

Love you.
Mean it.

Scary yet wonderful

"Have you ever been in love? Horrible, isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up you heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all of these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore."
-Neil Gaiman

I've mentioned this quote before when I've talked about love. 

I've been dating this guy named Jake just a few days shy of two months. And though we are not in love just yet, the statement above still rings true. Being in love is a horribly scary thing, just like being in a relationship is a horribly scary thing. 

I mean, yes, there are wonderful things about being in both. I miss Jake whenever he's not around and when I'm with him, I'm very happy. He's incredibly smart and intellectually stimulating. He is passionate about activism and works very hard to promote his ideas. He is kind and thoughtful. And sometimes he can be so surprisingly romantic and sweet, I'm at a loss for words. I love being with him. I finally have someone to come home to. 

But being in a relationship is still horribly scary. Just as Gaiman points out, I spent over two years looking for someone while at the same time building up defenses against being hurt. And then one day Jake wandered into my stupid life and did something stupid like be kind or be intellectual and then suddenly, bam, my defenses were gone and my life wasn't my own anymore. He has a piece of me that he didn't ask for but that I consented and gladly gave. Isn't that frightening? 

Again, don't get me wrong. I'm very happy with Jake. But it'd be stupid not to acknowledge the scariness of the situation.

But I think this is one of those situations that is scary yet wonderful at the same time. It's something where I'm willing to handle the scariness because everything else is so wonderful. There are nights when we are lying on his bed and he has his arms wrapped around me and neither of us are saying anything, those nights make the scary stuff seem unimportant, even if just for a moment. And those moments make all the scariness worth it. 

Love you.

Mean it. 

Atheist's prayer

O Deity Whose Existence I Doubt,

If I were a praying person (which I am not), I would thank you for this beautiful day. It's quite lovely outside. It's warm and sunny, the quail are eating the birdseed I left out for them, my mom's tulips are in full bloom. If you had a hand in creating this day (which you probably didn't), thank you for doing such a fantastic job.

I would also thank you for my family, especially my parents. They're both just wonderful. I owe them a lot. No matter what I've done or what has happened, they have stuck by my side and refused to part with me. The only reason I believe in unconditional, unending love, it is because I have them as parents. 

If I were a praying person (which I am not), I would also thank you for my friends, O Deity Whose Existence I Doubt. I have some of the best friends in the world. They are funny, kind, supportive, and fiercely loyal. They are there for me when I need them and vice versa. I couldn't ask for any better. If you somehow made it so I was friends with these people (which you probably weren't), I thank you.

O Deity Whose Existence I Doubt, if I were a praying person (which I am not), I would ask that you bless me with the strength to finish this semester strong. I have two huge essays to write and an exam to study for so if you could somehow help me with that (which you probably can't), I'd be very appreciative.

If I were a praying person (which I am not), I'd ask you for help with one more thing. I'm still trying to find a job. If you could (but you can't), please help me find a job soon. Again, I'd be very appreciative. 

I guess that's everything, O Deity Whose Existence I Doubt. Thank you again for everything. 

Amen. 

Now Panic and Freak Out

In five days, I will graduate from Utah Valley University.

Now panic and freak out.

I'm sure my feelings of stress and fear are nothing new to the millions of college graduates that have come before me, this terror of "Now what?" But this panic and fear is all too real in my case and I'm starting to lose sleep over all of it.

Here's where I stand:
I'm receiving my Bachelor's of Science in English with an emphasis in Literature and a minor in Cinema Studies.
I am unemployed.
My job search as produced nothing but a neat pile of rejection letters
I'm still living with my parents.
I have some savings that may get me through a couple months rent if I were to move out but no income after that.
And I have no idea what I'm going to do with my life.

Like I said, panic and freak out.

I began my collegiate career back in the fall of 2006 when I entered the hallowed halls of Southern Utah University. Now, five and a half years later, I'm ending my time in college. Before I started college, I had an illustrious public school education, starting in pre-school and ending in graduating from Timpview High School. Essentially, I've been a student for the past 21 years or so. And now that I'll no longer be a student, I'm starting to wonder (and worry) what to do now.

The answer may seem simple to most: get a job. But that's the trouble. As I mentioned earlier, my job search has produced nothing but reject letters. Things aren't so easy for a bright eyed young journalist in Utah right now.

Between me trying to finish my semester's work and worrying about getting a job, I haven't spent much time analyzing what graduating from college really means to me. Sometimes people talk about the moment they decided to go to college. I never had one of those moments. I can't remember a time when going to college was a question. It was something I was going to do. And not only was I going to go but I was going to graduate too. Now here I am, about to graduate, finishing what I set out to accomplish.

I talk about it being terrifying because it is but it is also very exciting. I'm the first person in my family since my dad to graduate from college. And while graduating from college isn't exactly rare nowadays, I'm still very proud of myself. It wasn't easy but I did it.

In five days, I'm going to be a college graduate.

Yes, panic and freak out.
But also cheer, laugh, and congratulate yourself.

Love you.
Mean it.

March 12: Just another day.

It's been two years and two days since the worst day of my life. After that day, I never thought life would be the same again. I was so sure that I had lost everything and that day would haunt me for the rest of my life.

But a funny thing happened. The day, March 12, came and went and I didn't remember it. It didn't even really register on my mind. It wasn't the anniversary of the worst day of my life. It was just March 12, a Monday, the first real day of spring break.

I spent the day applying for jobs then, in the evening, I went to a meeting for the Coalition Against Discrimination. After the meeting, I went dumpster diving for the first time in my life with my friends in the coalition (it's not as gross as it sounds. Plus, free pizza!) then we went back to the house and watched "Fargo" while eating semi-stolen pizza and drinking whiskey. It was a nice day.

I guess this is the best possible thing that could happen in regards to March 12. I am no longer haunted by that day, by what happened, by the thought that I lost everything.

Admittedly, I did lose everything. I lost my home. I lost my sense of belonging. I lost my friends and the family we had created with each other.

But now, everything is different. I found belonging in the newsroom. I found direction in journalism. Ironically, the worst day of my life was the cause of the greatest decision of my life. Funny how life turns out sometimes.

Last year when I wrote about the anniversary of the worst day of my life, I finished it by saying, "Happy goddamn anniversary, Kelly. Maybe next year it'll just be another day." I didn't think it would actually happen. But it did. It's just another day now.

Love you.
Mean it.

Why I hate Superman

Here's the thing. I really hate Superman. I think he's a joke.

First off, he's kind of a cop-out when it comes to superheroes. He has every superpower imaginable e.g. super strength, flight, x-ray vision, laser vision, super speed, etc. He's also invulnerable. He can get hit by a train and nothing happens. He can even go hang out on the moon without any precautions.

Now, I know there are some fanboys and fangirls (cause we do exist, believe it or not) out there that will call foul on that last comment. He's not 100% invulnerable. He is vulnerable to kryptonite, the ore form of a radioactive element found on the planet Krypton (or so says wikipedia). But honestly, that's also a bit of a cop-out. The only thing that can weaken him is essentially a rock that was blow out to space when Krypton was destroyed. Yes, there have been synthetic versions of it created but in order to do that, you have to be super smart and super rich.

Recently, I have expressed my distaste for Superman via Facebook where I was advised by Joe to not judge Superman too quickly. Though he dislikes Superman as well (he called him the big blue boy scout), he said I should read All-Star Superman as it does explain why the world needs Superman. He did advise me that while I may still loathe him, it may help him seem less "toolish."

If it had been anyone else but Joe, I would've just blown it off. But considering Joe was the one who got me into this whole mess we call comic-book-love,  I had to read it. I promptly ordered it on amazon.com, patiently waited for 5-8 business days, then sat down and read All-Star Superman.

This is what it looks like, fyi. 

What was really interesting to me was that instead of making me better understand Superman, All-Star Superman helped me to better understand why I hate Superman so much.

For example, all of those things I mentioned above enable almost every story of Superman to be wrapped up quite nicely in an almost deus ex machina (esque) type of fashion. He gets shot with a kryptonite gun by Lois Lane (who shot him because the robot left the lab door open so some chemicals leaked out causing visual distortions and paranoia or some such bullshit) but instead of hurting him, he just conveniently discovers he has a new invulnerability to green kryptonite.

However, I think the thing that bothers me the most about Superman is the overall simplicity of everything. Superman is the good guy. He always is the good guy. He is basically incapable of doing anything bad. He really is the "big blue boy scout." No matter what, you know exactly what he's going to do in every situation. To me, this is simplicity to a boring degree. It makes him almost a flat character. There is no complexity, no questions of morality in his character. He's just good.

The same goes for his arch nemesis, Lex Luther. In All-Star Superman, it attempts to go into why Lex Luther hates Superman so much but doesn't do a very good job. Essentially, he just doesn't like Superman. It does get a bit more into the reasons but that's pretty much it. After talking to Jarom (who is my resident comic book go-to guy), it's a bit more than that. Lex Luther hates Superman because Lex Luther wanted to be Superman. They both wanted the same things. It's just Lex Luther wanted to go about them in a different manner so the two of them ended up competing against each other. And since you can't really compete against Superman, Lex became his arch nemesis. The prime motivation for Lex Luther to act against Superman is jealousy? It seems kind of petty.

Keeping these two things in mind, I was able to fully explain why I dislike Superman so much. It's because Superman, his characterization, his storyline, etc., is exactly opposite of everything I love about my favorite superheroes/heroes.

My favorite hero/comic book characters are Batman and Hellboy. One of the reasons I love Batman so much is the complexity of his characterization and his storyline. Think about it. He's a man who wants to do good by being a vigilante, by going independently of law enforcement. He wants to do good by beating the crap out of bad guys–and he likes it! He gets a kick out of beating up bad guys (pun very much intended). He is haunted by the deaths of his parents and yet his quest to rid the city of the evil that took them away from him has become his obsession.

Also, there is the question of whether or not his very existence leads to the creation of super villains such as the Joker or Two-Face. They are a reaction against him. Does he feed their motivations? Where does the line between Batman and them lie?

What I like about Batman is there's a lot of gray area to deal with. He's a man that choses to do good but you know that if the course of his life had been different, he might not have ended up on the side of good. He's a man who has the potential to be bad but chooses not to.

Same goes for Hellboy, in a sense. The guy is destined to use his Right Hand of Doom to summon the Ogdru Jahad and therefore the end of the world. Yet he chooses to fight on the side of good, to essentially fight against his destiny because it's the right thing to do. It's unimaginably hard and it causes him to live a very lonely life but he does it cause it's right.

I guess that's why I don't like Superman. There's no complexity with him, there's no gray area. In a sense, there is no choice for him. He's always going to do the right thing no matter what. I really do wish that the writers of Superman would put him in more moral dilemmas, in situations where the only two outcomes are losses. That's the only way I think you could make it interesting. Of course, they'd probably solve it with another deus ex machina and ruin the whole thing.

Stupid big blue boy scout.

Love you.
Mean it.

Me sans medication

When I was 16 years old, I was diagnosed with a handful of emotional and mental disorders, including ADHD, generalized anxiety disorder, clinical depression, and bipolar 2. At the time, the only way for me to cope with these disorders, primarily caused by chemical imbalances in my brain, was to go on medication. I have since taken various medications every day for the last eight years. A little less than a month ago, I talked to my doctor about going off all of my medications.

This decision was not one I reached easily. My main motivation is I've been on medications for so long that I don't really know what it is like to not be on them. I wanted to know if I could get by without them. While I will never deny the good those medications did for me when I was younger (at the time, it was one of the only ways I could function), I feel that it's time I don't use them anymore.

The trouble is it's a lot harder emotionally than I anticipated. It seems my brain is determined to continue to have chemical imbalances. It's weird. There are times when I experience symptoms of my depression or bipolar 2 and I know that I am experiencing them because logically I have no reason to be depressed or melancholy. The thing is that even though I know that my feelings are illogical and are just a result of my brain not working properly, I can't force myself to be happy. No matter how hard I try, I can't just "snap out of it." And trust me, I try really, really hard.

It's incredibly frustrating to sometimes have no control over my own emotions, to be at the mercy of stupid chemicals and misfirings in my brain. And to know that without medication, this may be a forever type of thing. This may be something I have to deal with for the rest of my life, all because my brain malfunctions for some reason.

Even though it's been hard, I'm staying the course. I'm not 100 percent off my medications yet but by working with my doctor and lowering my dosages, I'll probably be off all of them by the end of the month. And even though I'm determined to see this through to the end, I know that things might get a lot worse before they get better.

Wish me luck.

Love you.
Mean it.

Thanatophobia

I am tentatively scheduled to die.
One day, for some reason
or for no reason at all,
my lungs will stop breathing,
my heart will stop beating,
and I won't be anymore

Everyone dies.
Everyone knows everyone dies.
Some believe there's something after this.
Some know their options after this.
But I don't.
At least, not anymore.

You see that poor, inert bird on the sidewalk that will never fly again
I crouch down on my knees and cry.

Where do we go, little bird?
Where do we go?

Forgetting my old religion

I don't remember the last time I sincerely prayed. I don't remember the last time I read the Bible or the Book of Mormon The last time I went to church was on Christmas Day because my entire family was going and I didn't want to stay at home alone with the dogs and the presents. Before that, I don't remember the last time I went to church.

I'm starting to forget some of the details of my old religion. I get stories from the scriptures mixed up. I can't recall the wording on some scriptures. I only vaguely remember how some church hymns go. I have no idea who is in the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. All these things that at one time were so second nature to me are now almost foreign.

When you're raised in a family that is a devout believer in any faith, those beliefs become infused with your childhood, with your upbringing. It's almost impossible to separate the two. And now I am forgetting the very things that were carefully taught to me, things that were considered fundamental.

I knew leaving the religion I grew up in would mean a lot of redefining in my life right now. I never considered how it may change my views of the past.

Love you.
Mean it.

Happiest Accident

"So, there you go. Turns out I've had the most terrible things happen. And the most brilliant things. Sometimes, well, I can't tell the difference. They're all the same thing. They're just me."

–Elton 

"Love and Monsters"

Doctor Who

Every time someone finds out that I'm graduating this April, they ask me what I'm getting my degree in. After I tell them it's English, they ask me if I'm going to teach. I say no, that I'm going into journalism. They get a confused look on their face and usually ask why I didn't get my degree in journalism. I then have to go through the story of how I started doing journalism when I moved back to Provo because I had no friends in the area anymore and I was bored out of my mind. Then by luck or whatever, I ended up being the Assistant Culture Editor before I had even been at UVU for five months and Life Section Editor before I had been there a year. 

This is essentially the same story I tell people when they ask me how I got into journalism. The truth of the matter is it was mostly sheer dumb luck. I was bored so I started writing. The old culture editor had to quit so his assistant became editor and I became the assistant. 

Even though my journey into journalism was basically an accident, it was the happiest accident of my life. I can't imagine doing anything else. I really love my work and, as it turns out, I'm pretty good at it too. It's funny. I never would have considered journalism to be my calling but it's a career that suits me, my personality, and my ethics so perfectly. 

The funny thing is I never would have even considered going into journalism if I hadn't had to move back to Provo. Before I left Cedar City, I had finally admitted to myself I didn't want to teach high school. This had been my plan for the past four years or so. I had no idea what I wanted to do. I figured I'd follow in the footsteps of my friend Joe and go to grad school and then teach in college. It was a tentative plan but it was my plan. 

Then it happened. The worst day of my life. The day I lost everything. 

They say hindsight is 20/20. I never thought I'd ever be okay again after that day. But the funny thing is if what happened didn't happen, I probably never would have gone into journalism. I would have no reason to. 

It's ironic, I guess. The worst day of my life eventually led me to the best decision of my life. The day that held the most pain in the world for me has led me to feeling so happy every day. 

I guess that's the way it works out sometimes. The terrible things and the good things. Sometimes they're just the same thing. They're just me. 

Love you.

Mean it.