The End is Near

One month since you heard from me last.

Time seems slip away so quickly, doesn't it?

Already, I'm almost done with school. Only one week left. Our group project, our final project, is done. Mostly. There are still some tweaks and last minute adjustments we can work on during next week, when we aren't too busy doing whatever it is we do in the final week.

There will be job prepping, interview prepping and other things. There will be a "Meet & Hire" lunch next Thursday where people representing companies looking for web developers will come and meet us. Some of us might get hired.

This makes me nervous, but not for the reasons you may be thinking. Technically, I already have a job lined up, which is fortunate, because our financial situation can accurately be compared to those bits in cartoons when a character opens their wallet and a small, sad moth flies out. Or is it a fly?

I was fortunate enough to be chosen from my class to be a mentor for the next class, beginning shortly after mine ends. I'm excited to help give back, to help others, and be a slightly larger part of DevMountain. Part of the decision process was 'job readiness' or 'hireability' (I'm not sure if that's an actual word, but it's fun to say). I was one of three people chosen, out of several from my class, which has served as a bit of confidence boost.

So, no. It isn't the will I/won't I get a job from the meet and hire, but simple fact that there will be people. Lots of people. Looking and me, amongst others, and judging. Scrutinizing our work. It's silly, I know, but I don't feel like my personal project is quite portfolio ready and I'm not sure how much time I'll have between now and then to make it so.

Also, people. Lots of them. Did I mention that? People don't necessarily make me nervous, but talking to them does. And that is what will be expected.

I'm awful when it comes to talking to people. Truly, I am. It is, beyond the shadow of a doubt, one of the things I am worst at. My small talk is stunted and awkward. It's also quite murderous, as it kills almost every potential conversation it peeks its head into. My wife tells me I just need to do it more often. She's probably right. She often is.

But, then there's the fact that I'm just shy anyways and that being not shy is very difficult. Beyond that, I'm also a little anti-social to begin with and a complete introvert. All of which pretty much means the same thing. For me, and those like me, it means I have limitations. There is a threshold to how much interaction I can handle. I feel like most days that threshold is relatively small and that by the time the work/school day is over. I'm done.

Most days, that's okay. I can go home and be with my wife and my kids and recharge and feel better and be ready to do it all again. Sometimes I even need reprieve from them. Times when I simply need to be alone, just me and my thoughts and nothing else. I think everyone must feel this way on occasion, but for me (and those like me) it happens more frequently. Please don't take offense. We emerge eventually, refreshed and ready to begin to process over again.

Recently, I've had more time to myself. The last several months have been spent at school and very little time at home and even when I am home, I'm working. I set a small part of each Saturday, and Sunday in it's entirety, aside for my family. Only them. That time is coming to end. I will be home more often now and have more time on my hands for family and other projects.

(This is the part where I unashamedly plug myself as a developer)

If you or someone you know are looking into setting up a website, I would be thrilled to freelance for you. Reach out to me if you're interested and want more details.

So that's about it. The last month. Finishing school, which ends next week, an upcoming job as a mentor for the upcoming class, and freelancing on the side.

(Also, working on moving this blog over to my own website, which will be much prettier.)

DevMountain (What I've Been Up To)

(I wrote this last week, but then busy and forgot about it. It never got posted. Well, until now, obviously, or you wouldn't be reading it. So here it is, slightly out of date as I am halfway through my first week back.)

A quick update on things and life.

It's been seven weeks now since I started going back to school, but not your typical school. It isn't a college or university, and it isn't quite a trade school, but it's similar. It's a bootcamp for coding, more specifically for web development and it earns the name of bootcamp. They say each day is equivalent to about a week in a more traditional school. I believe them.

Each day of the first six weeks has been spent learning new programming languages, libraries and frameworks in the morning with a hands on mini project with the instructor to try and help drill home what we're learning. Then after lunch we're on our own for the daily project with focus on what we were learning earlier that morning. The day starts at nine and ends at five. Monday through Friday for six weeks it's been this way. In the hours that are not technically school hours, there's more studying and practicing and working through problems and assessments. And if you ever reach a point where you feel there isn't anything else to do, it turns out, there is.

I spent most of those six weeks away from my family; working, learning and studying. I have so far reserved the weekends for them, though in the coming weeks, from my understanding I may need to work Saturdays as well (I decided at the beginning to keep Sunday's for my family).

This last week was our interim week. A break week. I'd planned on splitting my time between studying some new coding languages and spending time with my family. As it turns out, something funny happens in the early morning hours. My bed comes alive and the sheets knock me unconscious again. As a result, I spent my waking hours with my family. (I felt too guilty to spend much time away from them working, when I spent my working time sleeping).

Monday will mark my return to school and a new routine, spending most of my day programming. I'm sorry to be away from family again, but it's only another six weeks and then the course done and, hopefully, I'll be employed, making more money than I was when I worked for discover.

My experience so far at DevMountain has been fantastic, I've learned an incredible amount in a short amount of time and I'm looking forward to the rest of the course. For anyone interested in learning web development, whether for a career change (like me) or may because you're curious or just want to further you're learning. Or if you've already decided computer science is your thing and don't want to spend four years doing it. DevMountain is an excellent place to learn and develop new skills quickly.

Click here to learn more about them.

Some Melancholy and Some Hope

"I'm a writer,"

That's what I say to myself, in my mind. Where no one else can hear. Where no one can dispute, or argue or point out flaws in that simple statement. No one, but myself.

"I'm a writer," I say.

And then a voice, from the back, hidden in the shadows of cracks and crevices. Somewhere deep. It isn't a loud voice, but soft and, sometimes, though perhaps I imagine it, sorrowful.

"You aren't" it says.

The words sting, but I've heard them before, have in fact, had this conversation countless times and each time it's the same.

"Of course I am," the response is immediate and a bit defensive.

But the voice is unyielding. It knows.

"You aren't,"

My response is much the same, an echo of the first.

But the voice cannot be swayed. It comes from the deep places, the places of truth. And so the words strike true, and they hurt. The voice knows this and so, it is gentle.

"But you don't write,"

There isn't much to say back to that. I respond anyway.

"I do..." it's a weak response and as it is, it may even be a lie. I accompany it with a weaker follow up to push it into truth, if only just, "it's just been awhile,"

And even though the voice is just a voice I feel it, can almost see it, shaking it's head. It cannot be fooled, but the conversation ends. Sometimes it may go on longer, just a bit; other times it's shorter, but it's always the same, more or less. Sooner or later, the voice quiets. 

But it does not believe me, and so I do not believe myself, not deep down in those places of truth. The places we keep hidden. Outside, however, I tell myself I do believe and sometimes, I almost convince myself. Sometimes I can almost forget, but stories are always churning in my mind and where there are stories there is writing and with writing, my insecurities.

And so I tell myself, "I'm a writer,"

It starts again. 

It's an almost daily thought process, a micro conversation with myself. But lately I've grown tired, my arguments less defensive and more hollow. I've been thinking about what the voice has said, it's words and their truths. They hurt to think about, but uncomfortable truths always do. A new conversation arose today, similar, but so very different.

"I'm not a writer, am I?" the words hurt to have even thought, as if, by thinking them I was losing something precious, and in a way, I was.

"No, you aren't," the voice was almost like a gentle and comforting hand on my shoulder.

"I want to be," I felt like a child, small and helpless, surrounded by my broken dreams.

"I know," it said, the way someone would say I'm sorry.

It hurts, but life goes on. 

"I'm not a writer," I say, tasting the words and their truthfulness.

Truth always wins out in the end. And so the voice, from way in the back, down in the deep places where we hide truths we don't want to acknowledge, has nothing to say. No lie or fabrication to correct or contradict.

"I'm not a writer," I repeat, shaking my own head this time, filled with sorrow and acceptance.

And then, to my surprise, the voice.

"No, but you could be,"

- - -

I haven't written in a long time, but I think about writing often, daily even. Not just stories, but these blogs as well. I like to write and if you were to ask me why I don't I honestly wouldn't be able to give a good answer.

This was a silly story, perhaps, but a hard one to write, and yet at the same time I almost wrote it accidentally. It's fiction, but it's also not. The words still sting, but there is hope.

A writer?

I want to be. It's been a dream for such a long time, it feels as if it's become a part of who I am. 

Whether or not I'm writer is ultimately a choice. I want to be a writer, but to be a writer I have to write. I've said it before, to myself, my wife, even here on the blog. And so my dream requires action. I must do in order to make my dream something more substantial.

I stumbled on this quote tonight, and it struck me.

Ralph Waldo Emmerson said, "As long as a man stands in his own way, everything seems to be in his way."

There's the answer. The reason I haven't been writing. I think I know now. I've been in my way. It's come in the form of a lot of excuses and at it's root, it's been caused by fear. I'm coming to realize that I have a lot more fears than I ever knew, but that's good, because now, I can face them.

“All our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them.” - Walt Disney

I don't know what the future holds, but I do have hope and I'm trying to have courage.

Marriage Advice?

 

The other night my wife and I were eating out with family and friends. We sat at a table with her younger brother and his fiancé. I had gotten up to grab something and when I got back to the table I found my wife talking about marriage advice and she asked if I had any for the soon to be newly weds. My response to this question is almost always the same and has a tendency to be given by a lot of other people as well, right along with "Don't go to bed mad." My answer was 'communication' and that was it.

The two nodded and agreed, my brother in law made a small noise that was both acknowledging and dismissive. It was something they'd heard before, several times I'm sure, but I hope it's also something that they've taken to heart. It's something I've been thinking about since.  

It's hard to really understand what 'communication' means until you're truly married and living with one another. I know the two of them have a better understanding than most, both of them having served missions for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, during which time (a year and half for women and two years for men) you are constantly accompanied by another individual, your companion. You do not choose your companion, sometimes the two of you hit it off and become fast friends, other times you learn to love one another and become friends, sometimes you just tolerate one another and other times it's incredibly difficult not to hate your companion. On the mission you learn many things, communication is a big one. When you are constantly paired together and always at each other's side, except perhaps for the bathroom (and sometimes even then) you quickly learn to live together, whether you love each other or hate each other. You learn to communicate and as you do you begin to understand the other person.  

My brother in law and (soon to be) sister in law have both been through this and I know for certain that they have learned a thing or two about communicating. But the mission is not marriage, and the companions you learn and teach alongside are temporary. On the mission, whether you like the person or not, your time together will come to an end. Getting married however, is for keeps. That's the whole idea, it isn't a temporary thing. Nobody goes into marriage expecting to get divorced later on. Does it happen? Yes, somewhat frequently in our society. Divorce is becoming more and more a normal part of the world. Why? People don't communicate anymore. It isn't the only reason divorce happens, but it's a big one. I know, I've been there.  

My ex-wife and I started out as pretty good friends, we got along really well and for the most part still do. Thankfully, we've had a very civil experience so far and I'm really happy about that for Bootstrap's sake. My marriage didn't have the communication it needed, it wasn't the only reason we eventually divorced, but it was, as I've stated, a big one and the lack of it only served to exponentially increase and multiply other issues.  Like Simon & Garfunkel so wisely stated, "Silence like a cancer grows," I can't begin to express the truth behind that sentence in a relationship like marriage. I've seen silence grow like a cancer. It grows quickly, invasive, it infests everything and then makes it all fester.    

So do I have any marriage advice? Yes, communicate. Talk to each other. Trust one another. You're getting married, or got married, for a reason. Because you love each other, because you wanted to spend the rest of forever together. Don't forget that. Don't let your pride, or fear of what your spouse might think, get in the way of having open and honest conversations with one another. You love each other and will continue to love each other and as you talk and communicate and share your fears and dreams and build one another up and work together to get through the hard times you'll grow together. Your love will grow in leaps and bounds. If something bothers you, if you're hurt or concerned or have something on your mind, bring it up and talk about it. Don't keep things bottled up, especially the fears and frustrations. Listen and talk about what can be done and then do it. I've seen what comes of silence in a relationship, I've lived it. I watched as my first wife and I drifted apart and became strangers. Remember when I said we started as good friends? That's what silence, or a lack of communication, does; it makes strangers of the people closest to you.  

Communicating isn't always easy, sometimes it can be, but sometimes it will feel like the hardest thing you've done. It will lighten your burdens though, ease the fears and frustrations and prevent and solve problems or issues that have or could have arisen.  

Some other bits of advice, forgive and ask forgiveness. Even if you don't feel you were in the wrong (even if you know you were right) set aside your pride and apologize. That may sound strange, but I guarantee amazing things will come of this. Sometimes someone just needs to take the first step and everything else will follow.  

My last piece of advice to anyone getting married, or newly wed, is to love. That might sound stupid, but it's true. It's too easy to get caught up in life, days can go by without ever uttering the word. Don't let that happen. Love always and forever.  Don't take that love for granted, if your spouse already knows you love them, tell them again anyway. Say it out loud, show it and live it every day, in everything you do.  

I'm incredibly lucky and blessed to be where I am now, married to my best and oldest friend. I'm even more lucky that she shares the understanding of how important communication is to our lives and our happiness. I look forward to the many years I get to share with her and the many opportunities that we'll be able to take advantage of to speak and communicate with one another and the growth that will bring to us both.  

Communicate. Forgive. Love.  

I'm sure there are many other valuable pieces of advice you can find, some of it may conflict with other pieces. That's because everyone is different and everyone learns to live in different ways, but I think those three things are a pretty big, broad and general. There are as many ways to do these things as there are people. You'll learn your own way, as an individual and as a couple and together you'll improve them as you grow.

New Years (A short post)

It's a new year and with it comes new beginnings.

I've been giving a lot of thought to goals and resolutions for the coming year and reflecting on those from years now past, both the ones I've actually finished and ones I haven't and the reasons why. I think part of my problem is that my goals are often too big, too vague or I have too many. I think it's actually a fairly common thing people do and why resolutions for the new year aren't often taken seriously.

I've talked about this topic a few times over the years on my blog, so I'll be short and I won't make you any promises. Not yet. I will, however, make one for myself and that's to continue mulling over who I am and who I want to be and the differences between the two. As well as a similar question concerning my family; what I want for us and what is necessary and what is best. That's something my wife and I have discussed several times and I imagine we will continue to discuss it over the coming year and coming years.

I feel I've been very contemplative over the last few weeks, thinking about what matters and what doesn't. Some of those things are easier to recognize than others and some of them are harder, murkier. As this new year begins I hope to make better sense of myself, my hopes and my dreams. 

I hope you do as well. I hope we'll all recognize the things that matter most, the things that give us joy, true joy, so that we'll smile wider, laugh louder and hope harder. And I hope in this new year that we'll all spend more time around the people we care for and who care for us in return.

Let's stop the hate, let go of the grudges, think before we speak and forgive even those we feel we shouldn't. There's too much negativity in the world and life is too short to be spent on such trivialities. 

I wish you all a happy New Years.

Let's make the best of it.

Babies and Toddlers and Family

Babies are hard.

They're adorably tiny little helpless humans which are sometimes covered in hair and sometimes not. In our case there's hair, a lot of it. It's that newborn hair that feels as soft as some animal's fur and which won't last long, much to Mushu's relief I imagine since it covers his ears, shoulders and forehead. It's cute now but, it probably wouldn't be years from now.

With this newest addition to the family comes the reminder that there's very little babies can do for themselves. It sounds stupidly obvious and it is, but you don't really realize how much work it is until you have to do it. Even when you've had one kid already you tend to forget things. You may remember many things, sure, but you forget things, too. Namely how hard things can be, especially when you've had no sleep and you can't get the kid to stop screaming or fussing.

Ours is quite fussy at night and this is why I'm awake and writing right now. At least, that's part it. I took him from my wife so she can sleep at least a little before he wakes up hungry again. He nodded off after I walked around with him for a few minutes so I made my way to Bootstrap's bedroom where the rocking recliner has made it's home. It seems Mushu needs to be moved in order to sleep, or at least it seems to help, which was true for Bootstrap also when he was smaller (it was he who dubbed his little brother Mushu, much to his mother's chagrin) I remember I spent near every night with him next to me and I would rock him every few minutes until he fell back to sleep. I'm sure some nights it only felt that way, I'm also sure some nights were exactly that. So it was until he learned to sleep in his crib. I'll be happy once Mushu hits that point as well, even if my wife is the one who ends up awake all night with him. Actually scratch that, especially since my wife is the one who stays up all night with him. I love my wife, I want her well slept and well rested because that's what she wants (and she's nicer that way. *wink**wink*)

I am both impressed and surprised that Mushu actually fell asleep and seems to be staying that way. Also grateful. I told my wife I wasn't tired because I drank caffeine awhile ago but that's both truth and lie. I am tired, but I won't fall asleep. I'm a bit sensitive to caffeine, especially if I don't drink it often and I can proudly say I don't. But that doesn't mean I'm not tired. I'm happy to be helping though, I know my wife is exhausted and she deserves sleep. Babies are hard.

She'll roll her eyes when she reads this because in all honesty she does all the heavy lifting (figuratively speaking of course, she had a c-section and isn't allowed to lift heavy things) she's a super woman, no doubt about it (all moms are) and I'm very proud of her. It's blatantly obvious that little Mushu loves and adores her and her feelings are mutual. I love them both. And our little Bootstrap, too. He's struggling a little, but loves his little brother very much. He has such a big heart for such a little guy and he's so independent, at times frustratingly so, toddlers are hard, too. There's rarely a day that goes by though when he does not impress me, teach me, show me new wonders or remind me of wonders long forgotten. To see the world through his eyes is magic. I'm excited to see it through Mushu's.

I'm excited for the adventures the two of them will have and the friendship they'll share. I know they won't always act like friends and there will be fights and moments they hate each other, but they'll always be brothers. Bootstrap loves Mushu and Mushu loves Bootstrap. He can't say so, not yet, but he lights up and smiles when I talk to him about his big brother (it could, I'll admit, just be gas, but I doubt it.)

I'm so grateful for them both, and for my wife as well, they remind me there's still beauty in the world. Still magic. Still love. And right now those kind of reminders are the best of all.

Lazy Sundays are the Best Sundays (and a Cute Kitten)

TRUTH - too bad I suck at naps

It's been a few weeks since I last blogged. I think it's safe to say no one is surprised.

I have, however, been writing. At least over this last week. I've had an idea knocking around my head for awhile now and I'm finally beginning to see what the overall arch will be, it's quite a bit different from the initial idea and I imagine it will only continue to change and grow as I continue to write it.

I've set a goal for myself for a certain word count each day and have yet to actually reach it. Right now it's more a goal I'm working towards than one I expect to meet each day. I used to be able to belt out a nice word count each day within about a two hour period. I'm not even close to reaching that again, but I know I'll get there so long as I keep writing. I'm just out of practice.

It's a bit of a lazy Sunday today, which is more than perfectly acceptable for me. Most Sundays we're out visiting family, which I enjoy and love doing, but it's always nice to have a day to relax and do nothing with my wife and son (one of them is watching Tinkerbell while the other naps, I'll let you decide who's doing what), especially when it happens to be the only day off during the weekend.

I'll write more later. There are other things I've been thinking about and would like to put into word, but not in this post, and not today (probably). I just wanted to get a post out since it's been such a long time.

For now I'm off to cook breakfast burritos for dinner and possibly enjoy a movie with the family after that.

More later.

PS - Here's a cute kitten, napping, because the internet and why not.

Quick Post - An update

I'm writing this on my wife's kindle. It's an older model and only has an onscreen keyboard. Not that that's a problem.

I've written several things, including a few blog posts from my phone, which is a lot smaller. I'm used to my phone though, accustomed to it and I feel a bit clunky and awkward here so it's taking me a little longer to write.

I don't have much experience using any type of tablet, which may sound strange to most seeing as how utilized just about everywhere these days by everyone. I've wanted to get one for sometime, but could never justify forking over the cash. My wife has had this kindle since before we started dating and I never really played on it or tried to use it until now.

I like it, but I feel like if I were to get one I'd want it to be just a bit larger because I'd probably be getting it primarily to write while I wasn't home. Something smaller than a laptop with a decent battery life and a keyboard. I used to have a netbook until early this year when it met an unfortunate end. I don't think I'd redo it. We recently purchased a computer, which is part of why I started blogging again, and I really like it, but I can't take it with me to write other places and I feel other places is where I do my best, or most productive, writing.

I can write here at home and often do, but I'm also easily distracted by things in the house so something I could take with me would be great. For now, however, I'll make do with what I have and be grateful for it. After all, it's more than what many others have.

I've been thinking about that a lot lately and I expect I'll be writing about it here within the coming days. It may actually be something interesting. Maybe even something that's worth reading. I don't know. We'll have see.

I believe I mentioned in my previous post that I had submitted a short story to an online literary magazine. Late last night I received a response. A form letter, the story was rejected. To be honest I wasn't expecting such a quick response, I've submitted a handful of stories in the past to different magazines and had to wait weeks to months in some cases to hear back. This was less than a week. I'm actually impressed at how quickly I received my response.  

What I did expect was the rejection, and while it is always disappointing to be rejected, I am excited to keep moving forward and continue submitting stories for publication. 

It'll happen someday, until then, I'll just keep writing. 

Be seeing you.

Sick Holidays and Getting Better

This past weekend was a bit of a bust.

I'd been planning for quite some time on going out of town and enjoying the three day weekend with family. Instead, I spent most of the weekend in bed, somewhere between almost conscious and zombie. Some time mid last week I got hit by a bus of a bug and from one day to the next I found I couldn't breathe, my head felt like an over filled balloon and I had a fever that came and went like the wind. My throat felt like I'd unsuccessfully attempted to swallow hot coals and somewhere between the body aches and the teary eyes caused by fist sized balls of phlegm I coughed up and then gagged on because, of course, they didn't want to let go of the back of my throat, I found that, once again natural, herbal remedies are awesome and nothing beats NyQuil for an entire nights sleep. 

But during those few days of bedridden misery, in which I filled the hours watching social media like a silent creeper (but doesn't everybody) and watching westerns on Netflix (Django, The Homesman and Shane), I did not forget about this blog. I even attempted several times to write something for Sunday and never managed anything all that coherent, but I did feel guilty. While I'm aware that not many people read this blog and the only person who does so regularly is probably my wife (bless her soul, I've managed to convince her I'm somewhat talented at writing, I hope she never wises up to the fact that I'm just making stuff up) I did promise to update at least once weekly. That wasn't necessarily a promise just for whatever readers I may or may not have, but was, in fact, more a promise to myself. I want to write. I enjoy writing and this past year I've spent far more time thinking, reading and listening about writing than I have spent time actually writing. Which doesn't make sense. If I want to write, then I need to write. And so this promise to keep updating this blog is a promise to myself to take time to write.

And so here I am, writing for me. And for you, if you want to read it.

I'm finally getting over the sick, now that this holiday weekend has passed and I'm trying to catch up on things. Set goals for myself and plan for the future. There's a baby on the way, there are student loans that need paid and budgets that need updating. There are things that need to be bought, to be fixed and to be put away. There's so much to do and sometimes it can feel overwhelming and I think we, as people, often forget the most important things in life because of the things that life demands. And so while I will definitely work on those things that need doing, I will also strive to remember the most important thing. And that's to live life. Family, friends and dreams.

Which brings me to this, as you may know, or have probably guessed, one of my dreams is to be a professional writer, preferably an author of fiction. I have, in the past, submitted short stories to literary magazines, but it's been a long time since I've done so. Today I submitted a newer story to an online fiction magazine. I don't expect it to be picked up, but I'm proud that I submitted it. I'll be submitting more in the future. 

Until next time.

Sunday Post!

Whoever said there's no post on Sunday?

I promised to have another post up today and so here it is in all its glorious, mundane normalcy. I'm not writing anything today, not really. (Aside from this blog). It's a lazy sort of Sunday. Except I'm at work. So it isn't.

But it will be, I hope. It was an early morning and a restless night filled with strange dreams I don't quite remember anymore. I'm tired and want a nap, even though I know a nap will ruin my chances for a good night's sleep tonight. Though a good night's sleep isn't guaranteed if I don't nap. Difficult decision, I know.

On a different note, and as mentioned in my previous post.

I'm writing again!

It feels wonderful. I'm currently working on a project in a medium I have very little experience working in, but I'm having fun doing it. It's nice to see ideas being set down on a page, some of them are starting to connect while others are changing and growing in their own way. There are also other ideas that are worlds apart, new ideas for short stories and novels and I'm jotting them down and hoping someday I'll get to write them and wishing I could write and work on several projects all at once, but for the moment I'll just stick to one.

I'm afraid if I try to do more than that my brain might break and that just sounds unpleasant.

I'm hoping to get this current project up and running soon. It'll be made available to anyone and everyone who has access to the internet and I'm excited to put it out there. There will be more on this later.

For now, it's back to work and then, maybe a nap.

Life, Time & Writing: A Rather Long, Rambling Post

I'm not very good at blogging am I?

I keep meaning to and then.. well, I just don't. It just doesn't happen and not because I secretly don't want to, because I really do. So I suppose the question is, why don't I? Why haven't I been blogging? Or.. really writing at all for that matter? There isn't a lot I've done in the past year to further my dreams and aspirations.

There are a few reasons.

Or maybe I should say excuses... Let me explain.

I think some of the biggest hurdles I deal with have to do with time; how I think I should use it and how others think I should use it. Also, how I think others think I should use it and how I actually do use it.

When you get right down to it, in a way, I feel guilty. It takes time to write and that time isn't all spent doing actual writing, sometimes you just stare out a window or at the wall or across space and time and what you're actually doing is thinking, daydreaming and imagining. Which are important things for writing, but there isn't a whole lot you get to show for it when you're done a few hours later and all you've written is a single sentence, or paragraph, or page. Sometimes you may still find a blank screen. White and desolate.

I feel like it's hard for people to take someone seriously if they describe themselves as a writer, especially if they know you and are familiar with your life and responsibilities and I feel like they judge and think, shouldn't he spend more time doing this or that. Isn't he wasting his time? Aren't there more important things he should focus on? And I really shouldn't care whether they do or not, but a part of me does because a part of me wonders and worries about those same things.

My family and I recently moved and we aren't yet unpacked. Laundry needs doing. Food needs cooking and the house needs cleaning. Aren't those things important? More importantly, I have my son, little three year old Bootstrap, who's growing up so fast and a beautiful wife who's about six months pregnant with a fast approaching little brother for Bootstrap to play and fight with, and protect. Wouldn't my time be better spent with them? Instead of writing and doodling and dreaming?

For the longest time I always used to say, "I wish I had more time," or, "I don't have enough time," but that really isn't the case, is it?

I mean, don't we all have the same number of hours in the day?

It wasn't until this last February that it became clear to me that time was not the issue. I had the opportunity, along with a small group of people, to sit in a private setting at LTUE with Dan Wells, an author who's works I really enjoy. One of the people there asked him how he manages his time, looking for insight into how to better structure one's day to be able to write more. His answer was a light bulb going off.

He said it wasn't about time, but priorities and pointed out that anytime you choose to do something you're making it the number one priority at that moment. If you have things that need doing, but choose to watch Netflix or surf Facebook instead, you're making those things a priority over what needs doing.

This is not a novel idea. It's simple, straightforward and honest. It's also something I think most people have never really thought of before and struggle with. I know I hadn't and that I have struggled with it since. His answer has stuck with me and I've pondered over it many times. Not just in regards to writing, but all aspects of my life. What was I going to make a priority? What was I already making a priority?

This led me to some interesting, and somewhat painful, self discoveries. I wasn't watching a lot of TV  at the time and have since watched less and less, not entirely because of this, but in part. I argued that nothing should come above my family and still believe this, but I've started interpreting this a little different within the past couple weeks.

My daily routine over this past year has gone something like this..

I work an early shift. Five in the morning to one-thirty in the afternoon. Then I'd pick up my son from whoever was watching him for the day and head home where I'd spend the next several hours with him before starting dinner (if I actually cooked, we used to eat out way more than we should have), he'd go to bed and then I'd watch an episode or two of some show with my wife, or we'd play on our phones surfing Facebook and reading blogs before going to bed ourselves.

As I examined that routine and berated myself for thinking maybe I should sacrifice some of that family time to write I realized that not much of that time was actually meaningful. It wasn't quality time, it was just being in the same house and sometimes the same room as each other while the TV entertained Bootstrap and Facebook, news articles and blog posts distracted me. Not all of my time was spent like this, but more than I'm happy to admit. 

And so I've come to the decision to make other things a priority. During the day, between the time I get home after work and the time my wife gets home from work I'll be focusing on my art as best as I can. This includes my writing, my music and my drawing, as well as any other art inspired thing I dream up. Mostly, however, this time will be dedicated to my stories. I have so many I want to tell and in so many different ways. I'm excited to work on them.

Then it will be family time. Not much. We tend to go to bed early, as I get up well before the sun and my wife is pregnant and thus, is always tired. But I'll strive to make those hours of much better quality. Weekends will be similar, I hope. Family activities that bring us closer together. 

A part of me still feels guilty about the decision, but I'm hoping the better quality time will help. I'm also telling myself that if writing is something I want to do for a living I should treat it like a job. After all, I go to work to support my family and don't feel nearly as guilty about that, so if I'm serious about trying to make a living through writing, shouldn't I take the time to write? Which is something my wife has been saying for months now.

These are very recent decisions that have taken me a lot longer to come to than they probably should have, I'm not certain how they'll go or how well I'll do but I'm fairly confident in my decisions and am ignoring the usual self doubts. 

On top of all this I also hope to start updating this blog more frequently, once a week I think. Probably Sunday's and possibly once more during the week every now and then. We'll see. My track record with this blog is not all that impressive but hopefully I'll change that. 

For those who read all of this, thank you and keep an eye out for future posts.

Personal Demons and Hard Days

 Today was really hard.

Last night I revisited some particularly painful memories, the most painful I have actually and reliving those moments was incredibly hard and almost unbearably painful for me. Over the years I've become accustomed to all the pain, sorrow and regret from those experiences and learned to push them away and ignore them. You could say I bottled them up, as I'm prone to do with most of my emotions, and then left them someplace dark and buried so as to forget them.

The problem with this is that those things start to fester and stink. You never forget about them, not really, you just push them down and away and then pretend they aren't really there.

Well, last night I opened up that bottle and dumped its contents out all over the place. It stunk and stung and hurt a lot. Lots of old wounds that never healed were split wide and I was forced to deal with those things all over again.

These aren't things I really ever discuss with anybody. Those experiences are so personal, private and painful that I can literally count the number of people I've talked to about them on one hand. So reliving those moments, and everything that came after, hurt a lot.

I went to bed last night tossing and turning and unable to sleep. I felt like I'd dumped my personal demons all over and then left them to play. Nothing was resolved. It was all wide open and staring me in the face. I was filled with thoughts that wouldn't go away and ultimately didn't get much sleep.

Today, not surprisingly, my biggest emotions were fear, sorrow, regret and pain. They all warred and fought for the top spot and it was hard and emotionally exhausting as I went through it all over and over and over again.

There were a couple moments of the everyday that managed to distract me and pick me up. I even laughed a few times.

Tonight, everything got infinitely better. I had a wonderful conversation with an even more wonderful friend and together we were able to talk through a lot of these raging emotions and worries I've had and for the very first time I was told I was a good person and that I deserved to be happy by someone who actually meant it in a way that wasn't generic, bottled or prepackaged or self serving. It was a genuine statement filled with a love I've never experienced before and for the first time in a long time I actually believed it.

The last day or so have not been easy, but I feel like they were good for me. I've talked a little about this in an earlier post, but for years now I've struggled to find the magic I used to see in the everyday. Tonight I feel like I got a small piece of that back due to the kindness and love of someone truly amazing.

I don't know that I'll ever stop hurting or that the regrets will ever truly fade away, but tonight someone actually made me feel like maybe I'm not as bad as I think I am. That maybe, just maybe, I do deserve to be happy. Truly happy.

I don't know about any of you, but that's a feeling I wouldn't trade for the world.

The End in Sight

It's been an interesting month. Time has gone by incredibly fast and at the same time, heart-achingly slow, as it tends to do when you're waiting for something you really want. Right now, for me, it's the finalization of my divorce and everything that entails.

I won't lie, I'm lucky that my divorce has gone smoothly. It hasn't been ugly or tense, in fact, it's been a very peaceful and mutual effort from the beginning. I hope it continues that way long after the divorce has been made final, which could possibly (hopefully) be as soon as mid-February. Which would be fantastic, because I filed in November.

You see, in Utah, there is a 90-day waiting period after you initially file for your divorce. During this period of time there isn't really a lot to be done aside from making sure the rest of the documents needed are all in order. (So long as everything is done in a peaceful, mutual way, like mine has been). Other than that, all you do is wait...

....and wait....

...............and wait....

Hence it being called a "waiting period"

I'm unclear as to all the reasons for this requirement, though I assume it has to do with making sure the couple actually wants to be divorced. It is a requirement for all married couples in Utah though, (no matter how long they've been separated) so I don't believe that is the only reason for it.

Now, my 90-day waiting period is almost at an end, which means I can file my remaining documents within the next week or so. This makes me incredibly happy, excited and nervous. I'm ready for it to be finished.

Don't get me wrong, I understand that just because I'll be divorced doesn't mean that everything will change or be over, because of my son my ex will still be a part of my life and probably always will be to some extent. I don't have a problem with that.

I'm just ready to have this done with, the paperwork and documents, all of it. The filing and waiting. I'm ready for the final stages. I'm ready to actually be divorced.

I'm more than ready for that.

I'm ready for this chapter to end so the next can begin. There are quite a few big potential changes coming up in the next few months. I'm ready to live life again.

My waiting is almost over.

The finish line is just around the bend.

New Years!! 2014

It's New Years Eve! Only a few hours left of 2013 and then we enter into the big ONE FOUR!!

Since I didn't really have any plans for tonight I decided to do something new, something I've been thinking about for a long while. I made a video, two actually, and uploaded them on YouTube. The first was a cover of the song Demons by Imagine Dragons and the second, an original song I wrote a few months back. The first song I'd written in almost three years. I stumbled a bit through both of them, but they turned out alright I think. Quality isn't the best, or even very good, but it's not the worst either.

Check them out at the following links

Under the Same Moon - Here

Demons - Here

I plan to continue uploading videos throughout the year, mostly covers, but I'd like to go through and record all of the better, older songs I wrote during and after highschool.

I'll probably have another post up soon about my goals for the coming year.

I'll leave you all tonight with a wonderful new years wish from a few years ago. My favorite, actually.

"I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes.
Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world. You're doing things you've never done before, and more importantly, you're Doing Something.

So that's my wish for you, and all of us, and my wish for myself. Make New Mistakes. Make glorious, amazing mistakes. Make mistakes nobody's ever made before.

Don't freeze, don't stop, don't worry that it isn't good enough, or it isn't perfect, whatever it is: art, or love, or work or family or life.

Whatever it is you're scared of doing, Do it.
Make your mistakes, next year and forever." -Neil Gaiman

Where did the magic go?

A few short years ago this time of year filled me with excitement, joy and wonder. I loved Christmas and the holiday season and the way the world looked when covered in powdered snow and complimented by colored lights and the smell of pine. It was like magic. I could feel it deep down.

Sounds cheesy, I know, but it's the truth. There was always magic all around, all year long and I believed all one had to do was look. You could see it in the small and simple things. It was an appreciation of these things, a sort of gratitude towards the small and seemingly insignificant that added the finest details to life's tapestry.

But something changed in between then and now and I find myself wondering more and more often...

Where did the magic go?

Those small things have become harder to notice and truly see. The tiny miracles I enjoyed and pointed out to those close around me have all but disappeared from view.

I know they're still there, I can feel them, but not in the same way. It's a muted and dulled feeling that makes me ache for the one I can't seem to find anymore.

The past couple of years haven't been easy. I've had good times, but mostly bad. I feel like, looking back, I started lying to myself. Telling myself I was happy and where I was supposed to be, but deep down knowing the truth. None of it should have happened. I'd have been much happier, and would be much happier now, if I'd done what I knew I should have. Instead I contented myself and acclimated to my misery, telling myself I was happy all the while..

I guess you could say I have regrets. Not many, and ultimately, I don't think I'd have changed anything because despite all the hardship, drama and heartbreak. All the hurt, lies and denials. In the end, all those choices lead to my son.

I've made mistakes, done things I shouldn't have and because of this I feel, on an almost daily basis, that I'm pretty much just a screw up. I've become someone my younger self would have looked at cruelly and with disgust. I admit I had a problem with thinking I was better than other people. I'm not and life seems to have made a point of teaching me that. Or maybe it was just my self conscious. After all, everything that's happened has been a direct result of my own choices and actions.

But, even having become this person my younger self would have looked down on, I still have hope because when that little boy, my precious son, looks at me with nothing more than love in those little eyes of his, I think to myself, If this little child can love me, then I must be doing something right.

He gives me hope, and trust me when I say that hope is something I need.

Put bluntly, divorce sucks. Mine has been a mutual and very peaceful thing. My ex and I spoke and agreed on terms while I filled out the papers. We both agreed to the split, knowing it was for the best. Neither of us was happy and we both knew neither of us would be. We also knew it wasn't a good place to raise our son. We weren't violent, there wasn't any screaming or yelling or throwing things. It was quite the opposite. Quiet and silent as the grave. We just didn't speak, we grew distant and became strangers. When we did talk it was always to argue. Things became tense and we knew something had to change so we talked and finally admitted what needed to happen.

My divorce being a mutual thing doesn't make it suck any less. It's much simpler and a whole lot less ugly than it could have been, but even after five months it still hurts. Not that it ended that part, surprisingly, doesn't. I think it's because it ended long before we actually split.

What hurts is the loneliness.

And there's lots of it.

Sure, I have my family, who've been so kind, letting me move back in, rearranging bedrooms and even watching my son for me while I work. And then there's my son. If I didn't have him I honestly don't know where I'd be, he's kept me grounded and like I mentioned above, when I start getting a bit too down on myself he's always there to look me in the eye and prove that I've added something beautiful to the world. But, it isn't same as having a friend, a best friend, who's there for you. Who listens and knows everything. It's not having that that hurts.

I'll admit though that I've had that hurt for a very long time. My ex was never really like that, we were great friends but never truly best friends. I got by, pretending and lying to myself but I should have known better, we always get caught in the lie. I did and it was a tremendous heartbreak as the web I spun for myself came crashing down.

I could go on and maybe someday I will. It's a story I'll have to tell someone eventually, in its entirety, because I realize it's something I need to get off my chest. I doubt it will be on the blog though, it's pretty personal, but who knows. Maybe one day it won't bother me to share with the world.

The point I was getting at was, while I've had this hurt for such a long time, it's even more astute now because I don't have a way to pretend it's not there. That's probably good for me, but it doesn't make hurt any less.

The fact that I'm basically friendless (as in close friends), shy and socially awkward haven't helped all that much.

So five months after the split, I'm still lonely and hurting.

I've had a couple of people I know ask if I've started dating again. The answer is no, I haven't.

To be honest I don't really know how to go about it, not to mention I'm not sure I'm ready. Honestly I'm a little afraid I'll meet someone and want to go running into their arms which I don't want to happen, because it'd probably be a mistake and I don't want to screw up my life any more than I already have.

Not to mention the whole, I'm still technically married thing. I'm not really sure how that part works. How long before it's acceptable to date? I guess that's kind of personal though, right? Does it really matter?
My ex has been seeing someone for about a month now and while she's had some grief from some people I don't mind so long as my son is safe.

The fact that several of these people (the ones who've asked if I've started dating yet) seem to have differing opinions on whether or not I should start, seems to confirm the suspicion that it's more of a personal choice.

I guess the answer for me is it'll happen when it happens, maybe next week or maybe years from now. I figure it'll happen eventually, for now I'm just trying to get my life together. Reconnect with some great people from my past and find that magic that's missing.

This post kind of got away from me. It was supposed to be about the magic and joy of life, especially during this time of year. I've lost sight of it and only feel it in muffled, dying dribbles. Everything I talked about above, I'm sure, has attributed to the loss of magic in my life. I'm sure there's more to it as well, but I know it's there I just have to find it again. I think when I do, I'll find that it corresponds quite a bit with just how happy I am in life.

So, I guess I'll just keep moving forward and getting my life put back together. Eventually, I'll get there.

P.S. - I've recently decided to do my best to focus on the positives in life. It's easy to by negative and easily turns into a downward spiral. So I'm doing my best to avoid complaining and just feel grateful. (I have yet to successfully go a full day, but I'm getting there) This post focused on a lot of the bad in my life recently, but it's was thearaputic to write so we'll say it balanced out.

Why don't you join me, make a goal of going one full day without complaining once, about anything! See how goes!

A Good Week

This last week was, by far, was one of the better weeks I've had in quite sometime despite my son being sick with a slight ear infection, which has made him crankier than a crack addicted dragon going through withdrawals, and the fact that I've (comparatively) written hardly anything at all.

I've gotten stuck in my WIP (work in progress) and am unsure of where it's going. After staring at the screen for hours and getting almost nothing done over two days time, I took a short vacation from it and decided to write a short story based on one of the characters. I enjoyed it and learned more about who the character is or rather who they will become as the story takes place after my WIP. Despite not being very long and nowhere near helping me meet my daily word goal, it was fun and somewhat contented the self critical thinking I'm prone to.

I also dedicated some time to playing the guitar, which was immensely cathartic and learned a few new songs. I'm debating whether or not I want to be one of those people, by which I mean just about everyone, and upload videos of me playing them to YouTube. At the moment I'm undecided.

I also had an awesome lunch with my little sister, which I should really try and convince her to do more often, after a small adventure riding Trax where I did nothing, but sit and listen to the audiobook of American Gods. This has done nothing but remind me just how much I love this book and the Tenth Anniversary Edition on audiobook is simply amazing, I wish all audiobooks had full casts. I was so sucked into the story that I actually missed my stop and then headed several blocks in the wrong direction after getting off before realizing what I was doing and where I needed to go.

The week finished off with a Halloween party thrown by my aforementioned little sister and it was a lot of fun. We were all supposed to dress up, my little Bootstrap went as hastily thrown together Daryl Dixon outfit, though without a vest or crossbow. I looked everywhere a friggin' crossbow toy and am amazed that I couldn't find one. I kind of copped out, with no ideas, no time and no money I threw together a costume that was funny and clever and totally not my own idea. A cereal killer. It was a very enjoyable evening, I love when my family gets together because I'm lucky to have them and perhaps even luckier that everyone gets along extremely well.

And last, but definitely not least, and possibly what made my entire week, was reconnecting a bit to an old and very dear friend, one of the best I've ever had, and the person who suggested my costume idea, which may have been more of a joke, but I did it anyways. It was great fun to hear from them and to find out that they are happy and enjoying life.

So it was a good week, probably a great week and I'm pretty content at the moment. Looking forward to this week and hoping it holds something in store.


Bootstrap's costume.

Little Daryl

He started posing as I took the picture haha!

And then me just being my dorky self.

 

'Utah Mormons'

First and foremost I want to make clear that while the topic I’m writing about focuses on people in the LDS (Mormon) religion, it applies to ALL religions and belief systems, whether there is a God involved or not, from faith to politics. Second and maybe more important is this is not an attack of any sort on Mormons, especially Mormons in Utah, or any other faith or belief system.

I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, commonly known and referred to as the Mormon Church.

I live in Utah and have lived here for the majority of my life. If there are any reading this who are unfamiliar with the state of Utah let’s just say it is predominately Mormon. As such, life in Utah can be a strange thing to behold if you’re from out of state and even more so if you aren’t a Mormon.

The topic I want to address today is one that a friend of mine, who is not Mormon, brought up on Facebook and which immediately received several responses. That topic is the ‘Utah Mormon’.

For anyone in Utah who is not a member of the LDS church, or a former member, often referred to as having “fallen away,” this term is immediately understood to some degree because they have, undoubtedly, crossed paths with a ‘Utah Mormon’.

The term implies that there is a difference between ‘Utah Mormons’ and other (regular?) Mormons and truth be told, there is and it’s a big difference.

While the term ‘Utah Mormon’ seems to imply any Mormon from Utah, this is untrue, because there are many Mormons in Utah who do not share the traits I am about to discuss and there are Mormons outside of Utah who do.

I imagine the term came to life in light of the fact that there is a much greater concentration of Mormons here than anywhere else and because of this there are more people who share these traits, feed off of them and adopt them. You could compare it to a mob mentality, though generally speaking ‘Utah Mormons’ mean well, mostly, but that doesn’t always mean the end result is a good one. To put it more precisely and bit more elegantly, another friend described it as the following, “‘Utah Mormon’ describes a broken social mentality brimming with ignorance, found primarily in [Utah]. Is every Mormon in Utah a ‘Utah Mormon’? No, absolutely not.”

The terminology is unfair, it is a stereotype and unfairness is a defining trait of stereotypes. With that in mind let’s continue.

The original post was, “The difference between Mormons and Utah Mormons: the former accepts and welcomes friends, the latter hopes their friends will someday see the light and repent.”

I agree with this statement and would like to add a bit to it and take it a step further. I believe there are two types of ‘Utah Mormons’.

The first being the type mentioned above.

If you are not a member, or were a member, and you cross paths with a ‘Utah Mormon’, odds are good that they take it as their own personal calling from God to do anything in their power to make sure you convert or return to the church. Or at the very least, they will hope and pray that you do.

I’ve met people like this, I have friends who are like this and you better believe that I have been made a target to these people in the past. To be fair, in the Mormon religion, we are taught to share our beliefs, that “every member [is] a missionary.” I believe there is a big difference between sharing our beliefs and trying to convert anyone who believes differently.

I take issue with this mindset, as does everyone else, including ‘Utah Mormons’. Let me explain why.

Generally speaking, people don’t like or appreciate being told they’re wrong. It’s a pride thing, a human thing. People want to be accepted and liked, no matter what they say or do. It is a very basic attribute. We, being human, are very social creatures. It is in our nature. Even the quiet people, the loners, the bitter and mean, the shy and antisocial all need and crave a certain amount of social interaction and acceptance.

Brazenly trying to convert somebody who isn’t interested may fill a part of that social interaction but I guarantee that the message you are sending to those you wish to convert is anything but acceptance. To be clear, the message sounds more like this, “I’m willing to accept you, but only if you set aside any beliefs that are contrary to my own and accept my religion as the one true faith,”

I know some of you reading this may see that and say, “But my religion is the one true faith,” and this is where I *facepalm* and tell you that you missed the point.

I’m going to throw something out there. People who have a religion tend to believe that their religion is the “one true religion” so telling someone that it isn’t by trying to convince them of the veracity of your own again falls into that whole “you’re wrong” category. This is also true of those who do not have a religion, who may or may not even believe that a God exists at all. They have their reasons for believing what they do, everybody does and those reasons are extremely personal.

These beliefs are so personal that they are often deciding factors for many, if not all, of life’s major decisions. To suddenly tell someone their religion is wrong or that their lack of religion is wrong, whether straight up or more subtly, by pressing them to see the “light” in your own religion is generally viewed as a personal attack.

And why shouldn’t it be?

For me and many others, Mormons as well, this just isn’t acceptable behavior.

I’m willing to bet that ‘Utah Mormons’ have experienced this same thing from people of other faiths and I guarantee that it wasn’t welcomed behavior for them either. Why? Because people want to be respected, they want their beliefs to be respected and because people of other faiths can believe just as firmly in the veracity of their own religion as ‘Utah Mormons’ do theirs. People, of any faith or lack thereof, just want to be loved for who they are, not for someone else’s image of them or potential image.

Now a few words on the second type, the one who’s motives I’ve yet to truly understand, because just about any way you slice it, the end result just isn’t nice.

The second type of ‘Utah Mormon’ is, if anything, almost the complete opposite of the first and possibly more aggressive. Upon discovering you are not of their faith or have fallen away they immediately turn cold. You could have been having the best conversation in the world and suddenly the other person becomes someone else entirely. They may want nothing to do with you, act as though you are beneath them, like they are more righteous than you. Maybe they’re afraid that by socializing with you they are putting their own faith at risk. I don’t know, but people actually believe things like that.

There’s also a good chance that instead of ignoring you, they may say things about certain choices you’ve made, particularly lifestyle choices. They’ll comment on your clothing, piercings or tattoos. The latter two are favorites and easy targets. In the Mormon religion it is taught that your body is a temple, as such you should respect it. Women are allowed one set of piercings in the earlobes, men are not and tattoos are a no-no for just about anybody.

The comments are often made offhand, a jab testing your defenses as if they are looking for a weakness. A place they can sneak in and unleash an almost convert or die tirade. The comments are made in a way that seem innocent enough, like something about not being able to get a job or “you’ll regret that later” or any other number of things and yet, it’s hard not hear the distaste, the disagreement and bile that spreads over their tongue while they do so. Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of well meaning people who can say these things without even the slightest hint of negativity, but more often than not, in my own personal experience, this in not true of the majority of those who feel the need make such a comment. I have been amazed, astonished and genuinely surprised by the cruel things that have been said and shared on social media, things lathered and double dipped in “good intentions,” by people I admired and of which I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, they should have known better.

For example, my ex wife had facial piercings and was often, in church settings, made a target. Avoided or ridiculed by kind, well meaning people who wanted her to understand that she shouldn’t be that way. She shouldn’t like the things she liked, she shouldn’t think the way she thought and shouldn’t express herself the way she did.

To be frank, it pissed me off. It still does.

But this is not true of everybody. There were plenty of Mormons who seemed to adore her. They enjoyed talking to her, about her piercings and her tattoos. They were fascinated by what they meant and understood that these things were small and insignificant in comparison to whom she actually was and is. They understood the piercings and tattoos did not define her, they were and are, only a small layer of the whole.

I loved these people. Not because we were friends, because we weren’t, we barely knew each other, but I loved them because they were the way all people should be, accepting.

Both types of ‘Utah Mormons’ can blend together at times and this makes sense because in the end they both stem from the same roots, an utter lack of understanding of one of the most basic principles taught in the Mormon religion.

Love one another.

We are taught, from a very young age, to be “Christ-like” and accepting of others.

That is a lesson that for many, doesn’t seem to sink in very well.

A final truth about ‘Utah Mormons’ is that they would never call themselves a ‘Utah Mormon’ or even realize they are one. Just like the saying, crazy people don’t think they’re crazy, ‘Utah Mormons’ don’t think they’re ‘Utah Mormons’.

This post isn’t meant to vilify ‘Utah Mormons’, after all, we’re all imperfect, we all have shortcomings and just because someone acts this way does not mean that they are a bad person. It only means they are human.

I suppose my hope in writing this is to help people, 'Utah Mormons' in particular, be a bit more self aware and encourage them to be more accepting of others and all their differences. 

I hope to see your comments. Please feel free to add what you will; I’m interested in your thoughts, concerns and personal experiences on this topic. I hope to have a bit of a discussion on this. If you have any questions or something to add or discuss, please do so and please share this post with others, so they can also read and share their own insights.

Oh, but let’s all play nice.

Halloween and All Hallows Read

OMG! 

HALLOWEEN IS COMING!!

*ahem*

Now that that outburst is done.

Halloween is fast approaching. Once one of my absolute favorite holidays..

Well, to be honest, in many ways it still is, though for different reasons. I suppose the truth is its less the actual holiday and just the season. An excuse to celebrate all the things I grew up loving and getting weird looks for.

All the dark things, the creepy things and unexplainable things. I've long had a deep seeded love of vampires (non sparkly, thank you) and witches (darker and more macabre than the Hogwarts variety, though I'd be lying if I told you I wasn't absolutely, and remain absolutely, (warning: pun ahead) spellbound by the Hogwarts breed as well). Goblins and ghouls, ghosts and monsters, graveyards and spooky, mist filled nights.

Admittedly, I was always less fascinated by zombies and werewolves and honestly I remain this way, though I do love the Walking Dead. Less for its zombies and more for the interesting story aspect, with characters that have actual, well written, arcs.

Though if I'm honest with you, and myself, my love of this season comes more from the childish side of things. The macabre blended whole heartedly with a heaping dose of laughs and sprinkled with innocence. Remenicient of most things Tim Burton. I'd be lying to you if I said I enjoyed the whole scare your pants off side of it all.

I don't.

I don't like being scared. For me it isn't fun, and is far from enjoyable in any sense of that word. Despite this I've been to my far share of haunted houses and horror movies. Never truly my idea, but a tradition of the masses I somehow find myself as a participant in, not always, but more often than not.

But with Halloween and this season comes a newer tradition I've advocated here on the blog for the last few years.

I love this

All Hallows Read

The idea is a simple one. On Halloween, give someone a book, probably a scary book or a creepy book or a book in the spirit of the season. Or at the very least, just a book.

It's something fun and beautiful. There aren't many things that make me happier than to see somebody reading a book. Reading really is a good thing. It offers us knowledge, expands our vocabularies and allows us to step into other worlds and meet new people and make new friends. Books teach us lessons, not just about grammar or spelling but about life. About emotions and situations and people.

Stories carry morals and sometimes, invaluable lessons. Sometimes stories, books and words, save lives.

Words are powerful, they have meaning and are capable of carrying that meaning straight to ones very core.

Books are gateways. To other lives, states, countries and even worlds and realms. Where magic coincides with people and monsters exist and can be defeated, or sometimes not.

All Hallows Read.

Just another reason to love October.

You can find out more here at the website.

Go ahead, give someone a book this Halloween.

Last years poster and still my favorite

Autumn: The Very Bestest

“Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall” 
- F. Scott Fitzgerald

The air is becoming crisp.

The temperatures dropping (and then hopping back up in that Utah sort of way, never truly wanting to make up its mind about these things) and the leaves on the trees are beginning to turn. It is still mostly green, but those greens are fading to yellows and some reds and oranges are even beginning to peak out as well.

It's autumn.

This is my favorite time of year. Pumpkin flavored everything has invaded full force, taking no prisoners. The complaints and cheers have sounded. Most have taken their side, defending or criticizing the undoubtedly and inarguably over done and over sold idea of having pumpkin in anything and everything you put in your mouth. I'll enjoy it while it lasts, because I like the flavors and it’s a fleeting thing, soon to be lost to the flavors of the coming winter seasons, like peppermint, which I don’t like at all.

It’s the time of year where fresh harvested foods are easy to find, they are comfort foods with flavors for those cold days we all know are coming. Old fashioned recipes to help warm oneself while the wind howls outside, the world quickly changing in that step between summer and winter.

Fresh apple cider and rich hot chocolate.

It is the beginning of cuddle season.

The beginning of hot chocolate hunting, my annual search to discover the store, restaurant or coffee shop with the best, but for now nothing beats that rich flavor I grew up with, the one we got on special occasions as children. Family gatherings and Christmas morning, but Christmas is still a ways off and I don’t take any issue with that fact.

This is my season. Fall.

A time of change.

I’m breaking out the beanies and the hoodies along with the sweatpants I’ve missed since spring got too warm to wear them.

Fall really is the season of comfort from the clothes to the food and the colors. I love spring, and parts of winter, as long as I’m not freezing outside, and similarly I enjoy parts of summer as long as there is air-conditioning somewhere close by.

But Autumn is my favorite and I don’t see that changing anytime soon.