contradiction

i wrote this for a class:

Mormon Feminist – 2 words that describe me, and yet feels disproportionate on my tongue. How can I, after all, support Betty Friedan and Joseph Smith? Somehow I think it’s possible. I find my soul is big enough to accommodate contradiction. On my book shelf, for example, the Feminist Mystique sits squarely next to my Book of Mormon and other standard works – each book embodying belief, faith, and truth while admittedly incongruent in tradition. Yet, it’s within the areas of grey – the overlap of opposing ideals – that I find potential for possible expansion. It’s as though my sense of self is enlarged when I discover my personality can be a mixture of contradiction. I can choose what I will believe and find a place for it in my sense of self. In other words, the more I have studied the gospel and feminism I have found completeness in opposition. The yin is not whole without the yang, so too Mormonism is not complete without feminism. The gospel of Jesus Christ is based on equality. All covenants and ordinances are entered into individually. Salvation is obtained only through an equal dependence of man and women to each other. Betty Friedan’s conclusion of Feminist Mystique calls for all women to educate themselves before moving on to marriage and family. She asserts that women must choose for themselves to be stay-at-home moms instead of society (religious society too) pressuring them into such careers. I hold these ideals to be true with all my heart. I spout similar ideology to friends and family. I will teach my daughters the same principles. In short, Betty’s words have seared my heart and become a large part of who I am. To some, this may be a contradiction to Mormonism – you tell me reader, is it?

in short, this piece is meant to prove that we are all walking contradictions. what are YOUR contradictions reader? hate violence, but never back down from a fight? love nature, but never go outside? love your friends, but never talk to them? if you feel up to it, tell me about your own divergent parts of self. or at the very least, admit them to yourself - and then smile, because only in the parts are you truly whole.

post script

p.s.

i almost forgot about you...

dear 2011,

you and i have clearly gotten off on the wrong foot. let's start again shall we? in case you somehow missed the clearly written goals in my planner, let me remind you: 2 hook -ups in just as many weeks was NOT on the list. instead, "get into at least one mature and rational relationship that lasts longer than 1 week or 1 month" WAS a part of the plan. so please, if you wouldn't mind, comply with my prerecorded goals. otherwise, help me avoid all other douchebags in provo, and the surrounding areas.

also, help me figure out what to do with my life.

thank you.
-A

a letter of sorts

dear customer who told me i look good for my age: i am NOT old enough for that compliment

dear winter semester: you're my last, and therefore i refuse to succumb to you. every other semester has dominated my life. not you too.

dear brick oven: i walk past you every monday, wednesday, and friday at noon. you make my forthcoming lunch seem so unappetizing. will you stop filling the air with the delicious aroma of pizza? thank you.

dear room: i finally have you to myself. i love the freedom entitled in allowing you to be messy. i'm sorry for your fate, but i fear you will continue to stand as a monument to "free space" as books mingle with shoes upon the floor.

dear friends: please remember me. remember me as i am, as i was, and as i want to become.

dear winter: you make have taken the sun, but you have not taken my smile.

sincerely,
A

New Year, Last Semester

This is it reader. The final semester of my undergraduate degree. I started...uh, I'd rather not admit when...I started a long time ago (cough...2004).

Maybe it's all the hype about the New Year and looking back (or for some, refusing to look back) that I feel the need to review and then impart a few truths about me and my relationship to BYU.

When I first came to Provo I was an idiot. Seriously. An idiot. If I could see my 18-19 year old self again I would punch her in the face. That's the age when you think you know everything, but ironically you know nothing.


This is me at the end of my freshman year. BRIGHT blond. GROSS!


You see, I was a small town girl. I had small town ideas. As the Lord put people in my life, my world and consequently my place within it began to expand. I am so grateful that I finally caught the vision that I, ME, I could do it - I could do anything:

Travel to Europe. Be a Research Assistant. Make straight As. Get 2 dates on the same day. Fall in love. Hurt someone so deeply they moved away. Make friends I will have for the rest of my life. Cry so hard it hurt. Laugh so hard I cried. Stay up all night playing. Stay up all night writing papers. See my success. Feel my failure. Change what I didn't like about myself. See examples of what I wanted to become. Find people who believe in me. Find my MANY PASSIONS in life. Begin to love and accept who I am. Learn what I need from others, and to walk away if it's not given.

And somewhere along the way I sorta grew up.

Thank you Provo. You held my hand while I stumbled, tripped, and sometimes fell along this journey called college...or life really.

College is full of waste too. Wasted dreams. Wasted food. Wasted money. Wasted talent. For me, I wasted too many hours and too many late nights to stupid boys that didn't even matter. I wasted time thinking something was wrong with ME rather than assuming something was wrong with THEM.

I wasted time chasing other people's dreams. I came to college and I refused to be an English major. I tried out 6 different majors. They were all horrible. But everyone kept telling me that I shouldn't do English. Yet, switching my major to English was one of the best things I ever did.

I wasted time not being myself. I tried to fit my life, or my personality, to other people's molds and ideals. I was scared to face who I was. Sometimes reader, I am still scared to admit to myself who I am. But I'm getting better. I am learning to love all of me. Even my weaknesses and flabby stomach.

Alas, I am sitting at the end of the first day of my last semester and I can't help but think back to the first day of my first semester. I don't even recognize that young freshman girl. Yet I know she's inside of me still...somewhere. She has melted away into parts, into segments of my self. I look back and I am amazed. College has NEVER been what I expected, but it's been everything I needed.

The truth is, I'm scared to leave. But I am ready to try out my wings. I feel as though they have grown a little stronger. I am ready to face the cold winds of change.

Also, laptops (not desktops) are necessary; The honor code IS a good idea; Talking to the professor, while scary, is your best means for success; be the favorite roommate and clean your dishes; and never miss an opportunity to talk to someone new. You never know where that will lead you....

you're NOT going to believe this...

Ok reader. I've got a doozy for you. A 100% true and crazy story.

I work as a server at a local mexican restaurant. We get a lot of regulars. Naturally, I befriend all of them...especially the really good tippers. 2 guys in particular I've connected with. Both are established, older guys. Perhaps in there early to mid 40s. One is a doctor, the other is a sound mixer for movies. They come in once every 4 months. Always together. Always when the movie guy is back in town from California. I always stop by and chat.

One day the doctor, his name is Robert, came in without his friend. Naturally, I stopped by to say hello. In the course of conversation he asked for my number. I gave it to him. I was graduating and he said he wanted to send me a text every now and again just to say hello. Alright, I thought, innocent enough. I didn't think much about it. Before he left the restaurant, he asked me if I could go anywhere where would I go. We had always talked about traveling. He knew I loved it. Without thinking much I blurted out, Turkey or India. Maybe Africa. I said goodbye and went back to my tables.

Later that night I received a text from Robert. Again he asked me if I could go anywhere where would I go. In response I told him I'm not picky...I love to travel so much...I was wanna go anywhere new. Soon he sent me another text in which he told me:

If you're serious about an adventure, I'd love to share one with you. I'd pay for us to go anywhere in the world for 2 or 3 weeks. You choose. Anywhere you want to go.

I couldn't believe it.
Was this for real?
I've had very real and intense fantasies wherein my boyfriend/husband/lover (you know whatever) would say the very same thing to me. And here it was. Someone was actually allowing me to perhaps live my fantasy.

I didn't know what to say. I didn't respond for a few minutes. Soon he sent me another text:

Imagine exploring the castles of England, soaking up the sun on an island in Greece or South Pacific, Christmas in Bethlehem, anywhere you want to go....

He was killing me. Literally KILLING ME.

I began to entertain the idea.
An all expense paid trip to wherever I wanted to go?! Ya...you don't just walk away from that...at least not right away. I love to travel way too much.

I tried to deter him by telling him I might be a bad travel buddy...he came back with whatever your travel style is, you'll only add to the adventure.

Crap. That didn't work.

I finally admitted I would need time to think about it, and we'd certainly have to meet and actually talk about our potential travel plans.

Swiftly he responded with:

After a few trips around Salt Lake, Orem, and Springville we'll get to know each other better. Then we'll make plans to go wherever you want to go.

Whoa. All of a sudden this little travel proposition had turned into a few dates. In hindsight, he probably should have started there. You know, dinner before Europe. But really, the expectation of traveling for free was what was getting him face time with me. So maybe he played his cards as best he could.

I asked him why he was doing this. He said it was a graduation gift. And then....

He told me he loved my energy. He had no doubt I was going to be successful. He was sure I was going to grab life and get every thing out of it I possibly could. He admired that about me. He loved to talk to me, and to be around me.

I was flattered. But i wasn't blind.

I knew he knew nothing about me. His only contact with me was at work, and I only showed him what I wanted him to see. He knew nothing of who I really was. And the reverse was just as true. I didn't know who he really was.

He then tried to get me to go to dinner with him that night. I told him I couldn't...I was up to my elbows in research and revising. My senior thesis was due in a few days, and my only focus until then was my writing.

He tried again to convince to take a break...that I still needed to eat. When I turned him down again he wished me the best of luck and I went back to writing. We set up a tentative date for the following week. After finals.

Reader, don't worry this has a happy ending. If you know me at all, you know I have my head on straight (most of the time). When I make decisions I tend to make them analytically. I look at the situation rationally. A few hours of actually considering traveling with Robert made me sick. I couldn't be stuck in a country where I was completely dependent on a man for money, tickets, etc. Nothing is free. What would he want in return for his "investments"? I shuttered to even think about it.

Late that night I laid down and couldn't sleep. I was so stressed. I was stressed about my senior thesis and the 3 other papers that were all due. I was worried about finals. I was worried about Robert and his plans for me. Yikes.

My response to stress is to eliminate it as soon as possible. I evaluate what my stresses are and then decide which ones I can cut. So I sent dear Robert the following text:

The more I think about it the more I know traveling with you is not something I want to do. So dinner is no longer necessary. Thanks for the offer though. That was very nice of you.

BAM! I set him straight. I didn't want him to try and convince me anymore. I didn't want him to think for a second there was any hope. If you know me, you know I'm good at being blunt. I'd say this text was some of my best work....

I never heard from the poor bloke again. If he comes into the restaurant, I'm totally going to act like nothing ever happened. I'm good at that too.

But don't worry yall. My fantasy of my future man telling me....Ashley, let's go anywhere you want to go. Just you and me. 2 weeks. Anywhere in the world...you choose....(sigh)

Ya. That's still fully in place. Robert didn't ruin a thing. If anything he gave me hope that one day my fantasy will be fulfilled, and hopefully by someone more my age.

An Interview: Self-Conscious Blog Talk

I thought it would be nice for my readership to read an interview I had from a friend about...well...YOU!

Ok it's mainly about "My Apple", but reader you're a part of my beautiful blogging-world, so read on and find pleasure in being a part of something that means so much to me.

1. Why did you start your blog? I wanted a chance to practice my writing outside of scholarship and to discover my voice - in context with the world around me. Plus, I LOVE to write and I often get these overwhelming urges to write down all the thoughts getting jumbled in my head and I thought this would be a great place to "scratch my writing itch". To a lesser degree, many of my English friends had blogs and I enjoyed reading there's and I wanted to join them! As you can tell I thought a long time about doing a blog before I actually did it. I guess it was because I was resisting the urge to be, what I viewed, as cliche.

2. Does your blog have a title? If so, what is it? It's entitled, "My Heart is an Apple"

3. How did your blog get that title? I thought it was a great metaphor-you eat and consume an apple, but in my blog-world my heart is the apple you are consuming. I knew from the get go that my blog would be more personal than most and I thought the title reflected that. Plus, it's the title of a song i love by arcade fire. So i liked that too!

4. How often do you post on your blog?
As often as a thought is in my head and won't escape. Usually 4 or 5 times a month. During school it might be less... I tried doing everyday and that was lame. If you start writing about the everyday than that's a journal (in my eyes) and pretty LAME to read (and write about for that matter). Keepn' it real means sporadic and legit entries.

5. What usually prompts you to post on your blog? I have a thought about life or myself that I want to share with everyone. Sometimes if something especially funny or fantastic happens to me I'll post about that too. Usually it's just observations. If I have one, I write.

6. How many followers do you have on your blog? I have been REALLY shy about talking my blog up or telling people my URL. Mainly because I'm embarrassed people might not think I'm a good writer. And because I write about pretty personal stuff. So I don't have as many as I could...it's only 11. Which even admitting seems pretty embarrassing. That's a SAD number, I realize.

7. Do you have any followers you don't know? No. But I do have followers that I know only vaguely and I have NO idea how they found me! Or I'll be chatting with a friend's mom and she'll say something like "oh ya I read that on your blog" or "I really liked your latest posting". It always shocks me because I had NO idea they even knew it was me or that I had a blog. I've tried to add a counter to my blog. But I have done so unsuccessfully. (Side note: could you HELP ME with that Anna?! I would LOVE YOU!)

8. If so, have you ever had any communication with a follower you didn't know? No

9. If you were to put your blog into a genre, what would it be? Creative non-fiction? haha I dunno. Drama?

10. What is the general topic of your blog posts (i.e. food, family, photography, etc.)? My favorite topic to write about - ME! Or better yet, a single, white, Mormon, college student scared out of her mind to embark on life. Is that general enough for you? :-)

11. Do you follow anyone else's blogs? Yes

12. If so, what would you say the main purpose of you following someone's blog would be? If they are creative, write well, and give unique insights to life then I read it. I have to be honest, I LOATHE the blogs that just gush about how cool they are, or how much they did over the weekend, or how AMAZING their husband is. BARF! What a waste of time!

13. Do you keep a journal along with your blog? Interestingly enough, my journal writing HAS decreased since I started the blog. Perhaps it's because being an English major I already write so much. Post-graduation I have no doubt that I will still publish blog posts and be a journal writer again.

15. If not, do you feel you use your blog as a kind of journal (i.e. instead of a journal)? Yes, I think it's fair to say a lot about my blog is a bit journalish. There is a lot, however, that you shouldn't really publicize (and if you read my blog, I'm afraid that I might stray between this line of propriety every now and again) but there is something reassuring in putting your heartfelt feelings and thoughts out there for someone else to see. To validate your existence and your voice. To hear them respond that they identify with you. Or to know someone appreciates you. So sometimes I write in my blog when I'm wanting a human connectedness to my musings.

16. Anything else you would like to comment about your blog...Yes, you should ALWAYS leave a comment! Because sometimes it's easy to stop writing posts if NO one ever puts comments. You think, "how sad. what's the point? no one reads this anyway", right? So you should leave comments on my posts!

changes

"What does it take to reach you, into you? What is the stimulus that will force you to act; what motivates you in your inability to conceive of yourself as something special? Will it take the death of a loved one? Will the values you consider valuable have to be destroyed? Is the knowledge of self so painful as to demand that you not accept it and continue to squalor in your naivete?"
-LeRoi Jones

Reader, right now my mind and heart are a construction zone of change. I'm not sure what exactly is being torn down and what is replacing it - at least I can't see the complete picture just yet. But I feel a paradigm shift, a re-creation of my soul; it's exciting and beautiful.

The picture and preceding quote seem to bear a representative voice for my new soul. I have to share it with you. I have to lay claim to my change. I have to own it, and accept it - in order for it to do any good.

And reader...

I have so many questions that appear to have no answer:

How long will women continue to be victims of objectivity and bigotry?

How long will men hide behind alternate realities and fear of responsibility?

How long will America maintain a narrative of "whiteness" while ignoring it's BEAUTIFUL duplicity? (i.e. in Barnes and Noble there is an American Literature Multicultural section. Aren't people of ALL varying ethnic backgrounds American? Who is in the mainstream American Literature sections then? I'll give you one guess...)

In short,

How long will we prioritize the more dramatic international causes over our own domestic needs?

Reader what is YOUR knowledge of self? Are you continually shaping and re-shaping your identity and reality in order to shift into new modes of interpretation? What are your stereotypes and how does this affect your ability to love others? How does this effect your ability to see YOURSELF? Sometimes you have to fight, FIGHT! the product of your culture in order to see the bigger picture.

Don't miss the forest because you only care, or have time for the tree.