totally worth it.

Taking a moment to listen to this would seriously enrich your life. I couldn't help but cry.

I've been thinking lately of hopping on top of some blogging soapbox (again) to declare that in this world of summing oneself up into concise online profiles composed of brief lists of interests and blurbs about who we all are, that real compatibility seems lost under heaps of superficial compost. We will never be happy in a relationship with someone else simply because we are both "indie" or "hip" or "athletic" or "punk" or because we "get" one another. It is good to have things in common, but unless a relationship is genuinely founded on selflessness, faith, hope, charity, and patience, the happiness found in it will diminish to nothingness.

I am living proof. If there is anything I learned from surviving such an unbearable marriage for three years, it is this. Adam and I liked all of the same books and films and music, but none of that meant anything when it came to actually helping one another through life. The thread of contention that wove itself through the course of our courtship became the only reliable consistency that existed.

Amen.
Now I'll get back to my homework...

man hater.

Okay. I have an idea: How about all the girls at BYU between 90-120lbs. who are virgins, not on academic probation, and have temple recommends, line up in one-piece bathing suits (because they are spiritual) in front of all single Mormon suitors? They can bear their testimonies, conduct conversations using all and any intellectual jargon they know, speak using any foreign language skills they might posses, and have a list of all of their talents, hobbies and any bands they like pinned to their backs.

Yes, today I am bitter and I don't think I can ignore it.

I feel like men (and probably not just Mormon ones) sum their dating prospects up using lists of virtues and drawbacks. It's not that I don't think girls do this or that I can't admit to never having done this myself, but it's awful when you come to realize that ALL you were to someone was that list and that it didn't quite add up.

At BYU it may be worse because there are so many girls to choose from. The grass could potentially always be greener or hotter or more spiritual or smarter.

I was sitting in class last night next to someone who's wife recently gave birth to a baby boy. He's struggled a bit to keep up and looks tired often, but I envied him. I felt reduced to the little kid's table indefinitely; like I'm forced to go back to when I was 16 years old and relive all the ways I've failed in romantic relationships until I get it right at last. I am dealing with drama and break-ups. He is building a little family. I can't help but feel a sting of failure when I see it this way.

If you're someone I've dated and you're reading this; don't take it too personally. This is a frustration that's mounted seemingly by the collection of my dating experience as a whole. There's a chance you may have added to this feeling, but you're not to blame entirely.

love.

(illustration by Marcos Chin)

There is a type of love that leaves me singing first thing when I wake up in the morning and makes me think that smiling at every stranger is the only natural thing to do. It helps me feel a little more free from money and time restrictions, but I could stay awake for days on the energy it supplies if I needed to anyhow.
I often wonder what could be done for the person who is the object of my affections. I feel eager to help them with anything. I wonder if they are tired, sick, hungry, and desire to do my best to relieve any of these discomforts regardless of the obstacle. It drives me to feel bursts of sympathy towards many and kindly toward the world at large.
I laugh often. 12:02am ends up really being 1:42am. Kissing is about communicating tender affections rather than taking for oneself. Even grocery store errands become memorable. It is a love so compelling that I hardly notice I'm not listening to music/npr during my morning commute as I'm thinking of how to describe it on my blog.

I've only ever experienced this during brief periods of my life, but it absolutely does exist.

I'd learned recently to dismiss these sort of emotions as immature and false. Post-divorce, dating became largely about some sort of resumé line-up. More like: "He should have A,B, and C and then it will all work out fine." I was wrong. I believe there is something very natural and powerful about these gut-levels of love. I've learned that I can't do without them in any relationship worth pursuing.

hate it.

Sorry fans, but I hate "The Office." And it's not that it's not funny. It's true that if it were funny enough, I could probably overlook the things that I hate about it, but my major argument doesn't lie in it's humor value. I hate the mediocrity.

I recognize that from the outset, the appeal of the entire show lies in its mediocrity. None of the characters are overwhelmingly successful or attractive. We can identify with them and match them up with people we know in real life. We appreciate their quirks and bad tastes and experience their flawed humanity.

But as the popularity of the series has increased, the mediocrity of the characters has become praised and glamorized. I've heard it said that "not every boy can be as perfect as Jim" and that "I need to find a girl like Pam."

Yes, they may appeal to us as friends, but, do we really want to emulate them? Yes, we all want to marry someone we can laugh with, but what about the substance of a relationship that enjoys undisclosed honesty, hard work, chastity, and sobriety? What has happened to the celebration of really romantic couples who did great things like Marie and Pierre Curie or Abigail and John Adams? What has happened to the admiration of the passion between lovers like Romeo and Juliet?

I think as a society, we've become cynical; the success of "The Office" illustrates how well-accepted this cynicism has become.

to my jared.

Jared needed some socks so I sent them in this:It unzips on the side.

i wanna rock with you...

Walking out of an opening at a gallery in Chelsea on Friday night. I think even the sky wanted to participate.
Eating a street gyro at a table in the middle of Chelsea nightlife. Every time traffic stopped at the light, at least one car was blasting a Michael Jackson hit that Jared sang along with. I am posting this picture only because Jared laughs every time he sees it (albeit somewhat smaller.)
Guggenheim on Saturday. Frank Lloyd Wright designed some really weird buildings. I learned how toned down the Guggenheim itself really is. If you don't believe me, go here.
And Jared found this amazing beetle in the middle of a CVS in Manhattan. It's so cool! Look at its branchy antennas!

finally!

I made it to Jared's show at Black & White gallery in Chelsea. It was definitely better in real life.

fell in love.

image via brigham.

new idealist.

I have reached one more conclusion about dating.

I think I have always liked boys. Rumor has it that I even had a boyfriend in kindergarten. We supposedly sat on the hill during recess and held hands.
I definitely remember having a boyfriend in first grade. His name was Patrick and I still remember what he looked like.
I guess I feel like I was pretty young when I started considering the nature of romantic relationships and daydreaming about what it was I wanted. As a preteen I swooned over Brad Pitt in "Meet Joe Black" and dubbed "Sabrina" as my favorite film.

But somewhere along the way, I turned cynical. I'm not completely certain about why or how this happened, but I concluded that all of my dreams about romance were immature and overly idealistic. I convinced myself that all of my hopes about romance could be reduced to the daydreaming of a silly preteen girl. When things went wrong with romance, I would tell myself that nobody was perfect, relationships were difficult, and that I needed to learn to accept it.

In speaking with a dear friend about some of my past dating experiences she exclaimed, "Laura, you used to cry all the time."
It's something I was surprised by and had chosen to forget.

I guess it's strange, but all of my preteen ideals about romance have resurfaced. I'm sure that they're more grounded in reality than they were back then, but I've adopted their elements into my new dating criteria.

I am absolutely convinced that I can find and have everything that I've been looking for my whole life in one significant other. In the event that I don't, I'd rather stay single.

more about facebook.

So this English major in my Spanish class asked me for my full name so he could add me as a friend on facebook. He said he would give me recommendations for creative writing teachers (because I want to take a creative writing class in the fall.)

After our next Spanish class, he started walking with me and asked me if I wanted to get some lunch.

"Sorry, I've got plans. I'm gonna meet up with a friend to sew some t-shirts."

"Sew t-shirts? That seems kinda hippie-ish."

"Yeah, I guess I'm kinda a hippie."

"Wow, that seems so random...I guess not many people sew."

I cannot the remember the small talk that occurred in the time lapse before we stopped at the crosswalk. As we're waiting for the light to change, there's a conversational pause, and then he says in sarcastic tone,"Uh, so I didn't know that you had an ex-husband with bi-polar disorder and that you loved hip hop."

"mmmmm...yeah, I did... and I do."

When he can see the sincerity of the statement on my face, he panics.

"Oh my gosh, you're not joking?"

"Nope."

"Oh man, I just read a little bit of that essay on your link from your facebook page and assumed it was a joke; but it's all real?"

"Yeah... it is."

After all that, he still had the guts to ask me for my number.

new hobby.

As someone who has waved real signs protesting the Iraq war (the pic above is actually from a friend's surprise birthday party), it has been entertaining to collect the reactions of people who are catching word that I am dating a military guy.

When Whitney heard, she took me to see the movie, Valkyrie. She said that she loved good stories about good men trying to save the world.

I recently told some married friends about my news:

"Oh my gosh! We just barely saw Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2. There's this girl in it who falls in love with a male model in her figure drawing class. I automatically thought of you and said something about how maybe that could be a dating strategy you could use... yeah, military... whoa, I never saw that coming."

I even try to even break it down gently for others who I think might feel particularly surprised. This was my method with my German friend (who tends to be a more left-leaning pacifist):

"So what is he like?"

"Uh, he speaks German; he actually lived in Germany for a while..."

"Oh, great!"

"Yeah, he actually also speaks French and Spanish...and he graduated from BYU in microbiology...

"Cool, cool..."

"And he's also serving in the military..."

"Oh...now that's, uh...different."

My brother (who's the Navy doc) explained, "Laura, if you're gonna date a military guy, you've gotta start learning some military vernacular." And then we talked for an hour just about how the military ranking systems work.

Yeah, I'll confess that there's a little culture shock involved for me. Even though this is just a paintballing pic, the whole feel of it strikes me as completely foreign (Josh is the one on the left):But as I've considered a relationship with a military guy, I've actually come to the conclusion that I may be well suited to it.

When I was married to someone with mental illness I joined NAMI (The National Alliance on Mental Illness), volunteered, taught classes, attended support groups, read every book on Bipolar Disorder that I could possibly find (I am seriously an expert now), kept updated on new research and medications, and did my best to ensure that my spouse was receiving the best possible care that he had access to.

I think I can continue to demonstrate that kind of loyalty and support although the circumstances are different.

Furthermore, no matter how left-leaning I may be, I absolutely believe that the United States needs a military and that the military should be operated and run by quality people with a sincere desire to serve.

Here's a quote from the bottom of Josh's facebook page that sums up my sentiments (and probably Whitney's too):

We sleep safe in our beds because rough men stand ready in the night to visit violence on those who would do us harm.
-George Orwell

Scary, but true.

I am likely to register as a Republican any time soon?
Nope.

sports & military.

Go cougars! I made this dress to wear to pep rallies. Okay, not really, but I love the way the darts on the bodice so formally express my school pride.

I'm loving wearing my new military bracelet and smelling like mens' Armani cologne all day. Oh man, I've never been this excited for a Valentine's Day in my whole life. . . and it's only less than a month away.

shout out to the broken-hearted.

When it comes to romance, everyone deserves to be completely and absolutely adored. Nobody should settle for less. I cannot tell you how much I mean this.

It's a necessary and wretched part of life to pursue someone who isn't as interested as you are; but as someone who's gone through this probably more than most I say: Get over it and dig deep to find what about yourself is lacking that compels you to carry on with that kind of rejection. Rid yourself of excuses about why the other person isn't fully exchanging your affections. Stop envisioning a future where they will adore you the way you think they possibly could.

I promise you'll be happier for it.

(I am writing this publicly to ensure that I see it again when I need it.)

complete mystery.

I am still afraid of the word "divorced" when it is attached to my name. I embrace the fact that I am divorced and feel enormous gratitude about being divorced, but it is still a heavy word and I'm not always sure how people will respond.

I was recently speaking with a group of people who didn't know I was divorced. We were catching up on some mutual past acquaintances:

"So, I heard that Emily is on her second."

"Oh, uh...really?"

"Yeah, it's too bad; I don't really know what happened with the first guy..."

I felt grateful when the topic changed.

As much as I have feared the reaction of old friends or acquaintances, I have feared the reaction of dating prospects to a much greater extent. I have an imagined scene that I've played out in my mind on more than one occasion:

I'm on a date with a guy, everything is going well, he doesn't know I'm divorced. The topic comes up and there's no way around it. I fidget, stammer, and once the word "divorced" has left my lips, he is speechless and isn't sure how to react externally. Internally he's thinking, how can I drop this girl off a.s.a.p. and indicate to her that she doesn't have a chance?

I know that I'm totally overreacting.

And that leads me to my next crazy point: I receive exponentially more male attention now that I'm divorced. And I'm comparing this not to when I was married (obviously) but to when I was single before.

My only question; WHY? It is a complete mystery to me. Is it because I am happier; more confident?

Most guys seems completely unphased by the "divorced" word in reality.
And especially because I feel undeserving of some of this male attention, I simply cannot wrap my brain around it.

come with a shovel in hand.

One week at church when I was married and living in Provo, a woman stood up and told us the story of how she met her husband. I had always admired their relationship:

"I saw John for the first time when he was shoveling my grandmother's driveway."

I thought it was ingenious. How could you really go wrong marrying someone who had gone out of their way to serve your grandmother?

Two days ago, my brother, Tom, called me just to see how things were going. He's a busy guy with a career as a Navy doctor and 4 kids, so the fact that he called me is pretty remarkable.

After I was done telling him about what's current in my life I asked what was up with him.

"I'm pretty sore from snow-shoveling."

"Is there seriously that much snow in Washington?"

"No, there's just a lady who's husband is deployed right now, so I shoveled at her house too."

This is my new-found criteria for me wanting to date/cuddle/kiss/marry anyone. You must be a snow-shoveler.

blind date.

I've never been on a real blind date before, but last week at church a girl asked me if she could set me up with her brother. I found out that he used to gleek on my brother in choir class when they were in the eighth grade.

The date hasn't actually been set up and I don't know if it's really going to happen, but the whole thing has got me thinking about the concept of blind dating.

Why do people hate it? Does it imply that you are inept at choosing a date of your own?

Truthfully, at this point, I think I'm willing to trust others' match-making skills more than my own. I'll be the first to admit that I lack good judgement when it comes to boys. Heck, I'll even bring it up so you don't have to. I'll even list the specifics of what I've done wrong.

I think that being set up on a blind date should be seen as a compliment more than anything. I think it shows that you've made an impression on the person who wants to set you up and that they are willing to introduce you to someone they respect.

My mom set up the first date of my brother, Tom, and his wife. I think that my mom was basically saying to my future sister-in-law, "You are the kind of girl I want as a member of my family and that you deserve my wonderful son." What's more complimentary than that?

I guess there are those other cases where people are like, "You're a big unattractive dork, and so is he...let's see if you guys can make babies someday." Or, if a single person of the same gender is setting you up, they could be trying to dispose of their leftovers. Yuck.

But really, I think the concept of blind dating isn't so foreign to anyone who has a facebook profile or any online presence for that matter. You fill that thing out wondering who will see it; friends, strangers, family members; and you do your best to make a certain impression.

I made some pieces for an art show. 27 chickens. Added together every contributor's chickens will be thousands in number and mark the approximate number of chickens consumed in Provo in one day. The chicken pieces will line the walls of the Sego Gallery and sell for $1 each. The proceeds will go to the Utah Food Bank.

I thought of what I could do to make my chickens stand out so that someone would feel the urge to spend $1 to buy them. I wanted to make a good impression on a worthy consumer. I think it ended up like a blind date.