Tag: Friends

‘Cause I Gotta Have Faith

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I started this post this summer, and since it is still a relevant topic 6+ months later – Im going to leave what I initially wrote and then weave in where I am now. Its prob a weird idea, but im too lazy to start it up from scratch.

BEFORE – An easy pick given the topic: George Michael.

This post is inspired both by the difficulties Im going through in life in general and this blog post I found on my facebook feed. Im not going through anything more difficult than the regular up and downs of life. The anticipation of something new, moving back home after being out of my country for 3 months now, being bored, stressed and dealing with relationships. Nothing new, but sometimes they all combine together to make you lose hope and faith in yourself, others and the possibility of a better world.

Ive been greatly irritated by the stupidity of men in general this week. Nothing new – but most of the program Im helping run out here is male interns this year and the conversations are gross, the commentary banal, the actions disgusting and Im seriously wondering if this is my fate for eternity, to be surrounded by the immature, or if it ever gets better. Therefore I got upset at the Best Friend who is often the number one propagator of such grossness and his sidekick, who thinks he’s hilarious, and kicked them out of room. I was told I was over-reacting, controlling, think Im better than others and a downer. All of these things are likely true.

Combine this continued annoyance, with being sick from foreign food, sinus headaches, the lack of connection with the place, dealing with finding housing with a roommate from 6000 miles away and trying to help the BF get his shiz together for school – I may need to go home and cry for a while. Instead, I am obsessively watching Vampire Diaries from season 1, which is definitely easing the pain.

AFTER – Now im obsessively watching other shows – all hail Netflix! –  but the anxiety has been extreme. It may have been connected to my mother’s visit – it does tend to be somewhat distressing, given how long she was here. But work has been stressful as well. And the shear uncertainty has been exhausting. I met with my bishop last week. I told him the reason I havent been coming to church is because I have no idea how to be Mormon anymore; I dont know how to fit in and not feel awful about myself everyday. I dont think its exactly the church’s fault, but I still havent exactly figured out how to make it work. He gave me a blessing that I would have the courage and confidence to do what I needed and make the connections to come back.

In many ways, I am not the girl who started this blog. Although I dont always feel a lot has happened, I guess a lot really has. Its been 6 months at my first job, its a large adjustment to the corporate world. Its been a long time without my friends near by and the process of making new ones is just a drawn out one, even though I have met some really great people. I still love this city, but the anxiety has taken control and its hard to enjoy anything. I had this moment the other day where I saw who I needed to be. And it was beautiful. This girl who was quietly confident, serene and sure of her place in the world and not running around like a nutso trying to gather up enough pieces of love to get by in the next few mins, hours, days. I saw children and how much I would love them and how important they would be to me – which is a very different feeling than I had before, when I did not know how I would feel or what I would want. I saw this future for myself that was more than all the things I wanted for myself, and I felt some peace that there was still a path forward for me. I wasnt sure what was left – I didnt have any specific goals for myself recently other than to be good. Not just a good person, but really good at stuff. But I havent been able to think past the feeling of being terrible at everything, which no facts seem to support, but my brain keeps wandering back to.

Theres a way through this and that was a glimpse at what was beyond, but until then there is a curtain of solid anxiety between me and there. There is going to be a way through to that other life, but lots ahead for me. So Im not the same – I was bold before, now I feel timid. I was full of sharp edges about what I believed, now Im softer less aggressive. Im slowing down and trying to figure out whats going on in my life, so I can get to the other side of the curtain.

Im not upset about going to church tomorrow (its a Saturday here), Im not upset about where I am. Im just frustrated sometimes, but not angry any more. Thats why I think its time. Im trying to get back to where I was before, but better. So things may sound different coming from me now. Im changing, everything is changing. I dont see the topics changing, but who knows where I will come down on it? Ok, most things havent changed that much – but I may just be less angry about it all. 🙂

Hopefully thats still of interest to you reader. Happy New Year! Lets see what 2014 has to offer.

Oh I Get By With a Little Help From My Friends

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Mansaf as served in an Jordanian household.
Mansaf as served in an Jordanian household. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Beatles Classic. Although I love the Jim Sturgess Across the Universe cover.

Another day and now Im in Jordan. Ill be here for a while, so it feels different my trip to Turkey. Especially cause my best friend is here. He loves this country. Today wasnt the first time I got to see it, but it was the first time that I got to see how that love changes him. My best friend, lets go with BF as a nickname, is a complicated guy masquerading as a simple person. He has this overlay of farting, eating and sleeping, but underneath that theres a lot of conflicting desires, identities and person working themselves out. Im not the first person to be his friend, and I doubt Im the last one to be this close to him – hes one of those people who polarizes people, you either love him and put up with the bullshit or you know right off the bat it wont work out for you. The nice thing about him is that he doesnt particularly care which side of the line you fall on, as long as it minimally affects his life. The one thing I am is the exception to the rule. I am definitely affecting his life.

Im the reason he decided to come out to the Middle East the first time, and since then (its his 4th or 5th trip out here) his involvement has ballooned and the positive impacts have been exponential. Now it is moving the lives of people on both continents in ways neither of us could have predicted 4 years ago, when it was just a last ditch effort to help him get into graduate school after a somewhat disastrous undergrad. I wonder what it feels like to travel 8000 miles and find your people and home. Because thats what he has here. I watched him today argue with a Jordanian about the political options of the country and the tribes that empower it, and saw a comfort and relaxation I dont see when hes hunched over work in his room in Utah. He always projects confidence, but this time it doesnt just sit on the surface, it becomes who he is. Its more than skin deep.

This is my crackpot hypothesis, but I think the reason this place works so well for him is how literal he is. In Jordan, things are right on the surface, if you learn what to look for. Obviously there is the religion – you hear and see the minarets and calls to prayer, as well as the women wearing hijab or niqab. There are ceremonies for greeting people, hospitality rituals that must be done, and time that must be spent in particular ways in order to get by here. And if you can learn them, then you can fit in. Even to me, Jordan doesnt feel like a foreign place, although the voice/feeling inside me is off its axis so I know that I am out of wack and have to get readjusted. Im driving BF a bit crazy, because he cannot understand why Im having this reaction.

There’s something about his reaction that is even more alientating than being in this country far from home. I would describe myself as a slow-to-warm up person. I feel crazy inside until I understand the rules and nuances of how a place works, and then I usually end up excelling within it. I had the same reaction when I started my various programs, but because I spend the time up front to understand the dynamics, I can do things that other people cant. Case in point – leaving early to go abroad. 🙂 Until then, things feel scary, Im highly sensitive to other people’s emotions and nonverbals, because Im trying to soak it all in, so I can learn the rules that are important and those that can be observed and then broken. That is how I think Ive managed to deal in a world where I cant find a easy social place to belong.

Maybe I should chose my best friends better. BF is not about drama, emotions or deep explanations. Thats probably the one thing he doesnt have in common with Jordanians, who seem to constantly be yelling, laughing and being highly expressive. Although, considering ALL of the dramatics he lets into his life, lets say that description may be a bit suspect. Myself included. Anyway, another part of traveling 101. People man, people. They are the reason I leave home and reason I ache to stay inside far away where its safe from all their shenanigans. But we will make it work, as we always do, because I love him and he loves me and family makes it through regardless. Plus who else is going to put up with us?

Otherwise, Ive found an apartment in the city, have a bathroom to scrub (somewhat scarring) and just dropped off my laundry for the first time. Life building begins anew. Oh and if it was unclear – I loved Turkey, in case that did not come across. It was just exactly what I described – new and things Im still struggling with – the constant staring. One of BF’s friends has already told him that he doesnt have to be scared walking around with me, cause everyone will be scared of me. Its not my favorite thing ever to be told, but I suppose its better than being a victim. So I will continue to try to find a way to see myself in this kaleidoscope of reflections.

Ive posted relevant articles – so you can understand a bit better why Jordan. Its this interesting country in the middle of all this crazy political upheaval. President Obama will actually be here tomorrow after his trip to Israel. Also there was a recent article posted in the Atlantic of an interview with King Abdullah II, that is having impact all over the place. Ill talk more about all of that in another post, but a small sampling below.

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What Have I Become? Something Soft and Really Quite Dumb

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Istanbul from the sky - Topkapi Palace
Istanbul from the sky – Topkapi Palace (Photo credit: CyberMacs)

Ingrid Michaelson. I dont think Ive done her yet.

Its odd to travel right now. I feel like everything is buzzing by me at the speed of light and I cant hold onto anything Im experiencing. In the last week I have been in 4 different countries, and crossed like 4 time zones. Im in Instanbul for another day or so and then its off to the western coast of Turkey, and it just seems like so much so fast. There’s just something so insubstantial about being here. While I can understand that I am no longer in Utah or America, its very hard to accept that Im in Turkey. In addition, Im feeling pushed – like I keep doing things that are out of sync with what I would want/need to be doing. I like going to the touristy spots (to an extent), but Im a people/experience person. I want to interact with my environment, or learn the culture or observe the people. Right now, Im just a photographing fool who keeps getting accosted by sales people. Today one wanted to give me a gift, and then put ice chips in my hand. So weird.

I just realized that this is the most classic me situation ever. Im always getting into conundrums, where I let shoulds dictate my life – especially when it comes to doing things with other people. I feel I owe them something per some unwritten contract and I push myself until Im exhausted and cranky and give up. It becomes hard for me to voice my feelings or needs, except in snarky – bordering on bitchy ways. I end up acting less than and stuffing myself down, which used to work a lot better before all the self-actualizing crap of the last 9 years. 

Its especially difficult, because Im traveling with a friend that I have not really spent significant time with since high school. As far as I know, there are two people that I have actually still kept in constant contact with over the years. We were really good friends in high school, and still are, but being with someone, in a demanding situation like travel after 13+ years is an interesting experience. So the old me was a passive audience member to my incredibly gregarious friends. I mean I was always a talker, but Ive had many friends who are the life of the party for as long as I can remember – and I sort of laughed and clapped at the appropriate times. Ive changed since then. Ive learned to accept a new role in my life – one where Im more often the life of the party, and even when Im not, I dont do passive anymore. My friend and I have also been talking about this blog – and he immediately recognized it for the platform it could maybe be one day. That its a unique perspective I hold, and despite the fact that hes not religious, he understands how important my religion is to me, and what I could do given the social changes facing the LDS church.

I know better what my needs are and have spent copious time learning how to say them, deal with the aftermath of it and keep relationships alive. But the old habits come back hard. Fortunately my extreme jetlag has lowered my tolerance level, so its either accept the increasingly bitchy version of myself or “woman up” and remember who I actually am.

Starting with, this girl likes massages, so Four Seasons it is! (its 30% off at 7am :)). And choosing which relationship to prioritize and then dealing with the aftermath of making big girl decisions about how to handle it. Which in the last 3 hours since this realization is going exceptionally well. Thats the thing I always forget in the initial no-win solution: I know how to handle myself and it usually works out ok. Plus this whole traveling thing is supposed to be fun right? In honor of that, Ive changed my header picture – this is one I took at the Hagia Sofia two days ago. Beautiful place, but I will write about that later.

If I Were A Boy

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Standard of Living
Standard of Living (Photo credit: Believes in everything…)

Super Bowl Shout to: Beyonce.

What must it be like to be a guy? I have a best friend, and while he may not be representative of the entire gender, he insists more are like him than not. From my perspective, they seem to be content with general lower standards of living. HIMYM says they’ve all thought about opening a bar or starting a band. But most things seem to revolve around farting, burping, and boobs. Im pretty sure nothing can be done about the first two, its the third I intend to weigh in on today.

I know quite a few men in their late 20s (early 30s) who are divorced. From my point of view, it seems like they married the hottest girl who would have them and then tried to settle down into domestic bliss. Except the problem was that said hot girl has no discernible skill sets or interest in their particular ideas of domestic bliss. At this point I usually yell, “And why would she?! She clearly communicated that what she spends her time doing is being hot – shopping, makeup, gym, etc, all so she could snag you, and now you want her to cook, clean and raise kids too? You got exactly what you searched for. Dont be mad at her now.” So then they get divorced spend about 5 years licking their wounds, and attempting to figure out what exactly is it they do want if they were to get married again. Some of them accomplish it successfully, while others are still bidding their time.

Then there are the single, never-married ones. They range from the asshole to the delusional (he wants a 22 year old Black model girlfriend and hes 39) to the confused to the boring to the list goes on. They spend a lot of time crewing up to go to their versions of the pick-up zones, ward activities, some large Mormon event, the bar, and then complain about how the girl turned them down cause they were not tall enough.  I mean, girls arent making this war any easier, but I’ll turn to them later. Some days Im so tired of listening to their bullshit about why no girls like them, when they are all chasing the same 10 versions of a girl. I mean, read exhibit C. If a girl can get better, and “all you can do is list a bunch of faults you don’t have, then back the fuck away from the patient. ” Even on a bad day they deserve better than you and your particular brand of inanity and laziness.

Rant aside, the thing is – I still like them. I still want one of them to come to his senses one day and be like, “this girl, who I call when I want someone to hold my hand is amazing. This girl who tries everyday to make my life a little bit better and help deliver my dreams, is someone I should probably stop taking for granted. Thus, I will stop dating the silly girls who add little to my life and settle down to awesomeness. “Stunted vocabulary aside, what the crap are you guys actually thinking about? Is it really just Dazed and Confused in there? Is all that matters that they keep getting younger, and you stay the same age? Mentally, emotionally, ecumenically?

And then, every time I get one of the male sex to a grown up personhood point, after hours of yelling and talking and crying (usually on their end) they end up marrying the girl they met while I was making them grow up. I want to scream, “HELLO! You just gave away all my hard work! Investment not returned! Damnit!” But it doesnt matter. They just keep getting married and the others keep talking about a nice ass, and I keep getting frustrated.

The worst part is they think Im ok with it all. My best friend just told me yesterday that I dont even want to get married right now, unlike he, who would get married tomorrow. What kind of world are we living in where that is true? But the statement is not even accurate. Of course I want to get married someday. Of course I want some guy who can finally appreciate all the work I do for him everyday without patting me on the head while he goes out with girl #149 type 2. I may even want children, although one person’s mess is probably enough for me right now. Its hard to tell when its not an option. I wanted the Mormon dream for a really long time, the perfect 2-4 inch height difference couple, pushing a stroller with our 2-year old next to us as we talk about his day at work, and I discuss what to make for dinner. I used to think Id make an excellent “insert profession here” wife, its just not what God has in store for me, and its not even what I want for myself anymore. I have the ability to make an impact on the world and Im not going to short change myself to chase a fantasy that doesnt exist and, more importantly, isnt being offered.

Its probably my fault. I settle for less – I take the friend role instead of being a leading lady in my own life – at least in dating. I settle for doing dishes and watching Tosh.0 while the date gets cuddling and make-outs. Im settling in my own life, and I dont know what other choice to make in order to not wake up miserable and pissed off everyday.

So just in case you thought I was zen about the whole mormon, black and female thing all the time, Im not. I literally want to slap the shit out of men who dont date me and date the white, pioneer-stock nothing – as bitchy and petty as it may seem. How am I supposed to hold out hope for the Mormon fairy tale, when there arent even any frogs, looking in my general direction, to kiss? I know I sound like a BPW (Bitter Pioneer Woman) right now, and youre probably thinking, well now we know. Today was just a bit more than I could take. So forgive me, and look at it as honesty. Im offering that in my perspective on all the days.

Oh, My God Becky Look at Her Butt it is Like Soooo Big

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Sir Mix-A-Lot.

Cover of "The Legend of Bagger Vance"
Cover of The Legend of Bagger Vance

I used to love this blog in college, but heres the post I want to talk about today. Its an oldie but a goodie. Maybe the most difficult thing for Mormons, and Im sure other people too, is to figure out how to talk to black people. I mentioned in an earlier post, when I first got to Utah, people liked to tell me stories about random Black people they knew. Babies and children of all sorts stare at me when I go to Costco – Ive seen them crane their heads around their parents to get a better look. Them I dont mind, its not their fault they have never seen someone of a darker hue before. But lets just say, I no longer go to Walmart in some parts of the world, because its just much too much uncomfortable.

I am often the only Black person at the events I attend, and Ive experienced the annoyingly eye-rolling to the jaw-droppingly racist, so let me give you the primer on what I do and do not like, and you can see if it generalizes to anyone else. 1) I hate being ignored. In one class I was in a girl from Arizona said she just didnt address directly differences of her friends, because she was scared of offending them. My response to her was, if we are actually friends, then let me teach you how to treat me. Its no different than anything else you have to learn about me – where I like to eat, what movies I will go see, and oh yeah how I talk and feel about this huge piece of what the world defines me as. I dont want people to be color-blind, because then it feels like you are pretending Im just like you, and Im not. I would like to be able to talk about those things that are different from you, whether its how much lotion I put on (a ton) or how often I wash my hair (not a ton), without feeling awkward about it. So maybe you dont know what to say: well I promise to be forgiving, if you promise to make an effort.

Numero dos: Wait until I say something racist first, and then laugh, because I eventually will, and it will be funny. Like when my friend makes a comment about their being only one white free safety left (whatever that is), it works, but if I say it then we’d all be awkward. Its probably true, but its mean. Its bad if you say something racist first, then I have to decide if Im going to be the bigger person, and I honestly will probably not talk to you again. But when I say it first, like when I told my best friend that I was his magical negro (see Will Smith in Bagger Vance and Morgan Freeman in everything), well then its funny, because its true. Then you can laugh at me while I eat fried chicken, but not before.

Three: I have no idea. Lets pretend this is like the Dave Chappell Show and you can ask a black girl. This could be fun. It will be an ongoing thing. Put your questions in the comments section and Ill get back to you.