Worst Place

I think I just gave the worst sacrament meeting talk that's ever been given. Well, maybe not the very worst ever, because at least I didn't say that Jesus couldn't do anything himself because he didn't have a body. I guess mine was the second worst ever. I'm trying to look on the bright side, though. Kelly suggests that maybe this experience will help me be more empathetic towards other people who look like bumbling idiots at the pulpit, but I think that the real silver lining is that the bishopric will think twice before asking me to speak again.

"Most Improved" and other burning instead of beauty

Last week I saw an advertisement for a permanent make-up company in Salt Lake, and I was going to write a post about it, but I got lazy and didn't do it. This week I found a new catalyst in that the young women in my ward are having a presentation on make-up as part of their weekly activity night.

Before I get into the particulars of my catalysts, let me just explain why I have a problem with make-up. I know there's a lot of potential issues with make-up or even with fashion in general, especially when you try to reconcile it with religion, but I think the thing that sets make-up apart from other fashions is how intertwined it becomes with a woman's self-esteem. If it were treated the same way as picking a belt or a pair of shoes, then I don't think I would care. But it's not treated the same. It becomes such a part of a woman's identity that she is convinced that she is not pretty without it, and she's uncomfortable being seen in public until after she has her face painted.

Cultural traditions are complicated and I know there's probably a lot of factors that have gone into making and keeping make-up so connected to self-esteem as it is. I don't know what's to blame for that, but I do see that the make-up companies realize this connection and that they prey on women because of it, taking advantage of self-esteem issues to sell their products. You could probably make an example out of any number of advertising campaigns, but one that is particularly obvious to me is Mary Kay. When they have their little make-up parties to sell the product in women's homes, they actually vote on who is the "most improved" because of the new make-up.

I don't really know what my ward's agenda is with this activity for the young women or how they're going to present it. I think it's entirely possible that they're going to have a very tasteful presentation and try to teach the girls to be moderate in how they wear their make-up. Even that, though, I think is potentially damaging to the young women.

I've seen those reality shows where they give a woman a make-over, which usually involves teaching her how to properly use her make-up. I haven't seen a lot of these shows, but every one that I have seen tells the woman to be more moderate and more sparing in how she applies her make-up. That's fine. The problem is that even this approach (or especially this approach?) teaches the woman that this is the way that her face is meant to be painted. The make-over teaches her what clothes are in style, and maybe what is flattering to her out of that style, but with the make-up it teaches her what matches her, as though it is something permanent that her face needs and not something that changes with the seasons and her moods like other fashions. It teaches her that this is the right look for her features and complexion. Even if the end result is that she wears less make-up than before, it still emphasizes the idea that there is a correct look for this particular woman and that it is only achievable through the application of make-up.

So regardless of the intent, I'd just be afraid that by teaching the young women to use make-up, you're really just teaching them that they need make-up.

Maybe it's an extension of that idea that there is a single correct look for a woman's face and that make-up achieves it that has led our society to the idea of permanent make-up. Anything permanent and unchangeable makes me nervous and I think the fact that there are women who are willing to have their make-up permanently attached just emphasizes how much the industry has convinced them of their inadequacy without it.

There is an additional thing that bothers me about permanent make-up. I'm sure that Salt Lake has more ads for tattoo removal than for tattoo parlors, but permanent make-up has no problem fitting in with all of the other ads for permanently changing a person's body to fit some arbitrary image of beauty. The part of this that really bothers me is that some of the same people who have religious reasons for thinking that tattoos are immoral can think that permanent make-up is just fine. You do realize that they are the same thing, right? The only difference is the shape of the tattoo that you're getting, but it's still a tattoo. I think the women who find themselves in favor of permanent make-up but against traditional tattoos have forgotten why they are against tattoos in the first place. It's so easy to be swept up in a cultural stereotype, but before long we forget our values and just start thinking that the definition of our religion is the same as our niche in that culture.

I guess it makes sense that the cultural associations blur the lines between make-up and tattoos for some women. After all, it's only because of cultural associations that permanent make-up could ever have an appeal in the first place. Women have been taught that they don't look good without it, and that they should always wear it whenever they are visible to anyone else, so it seems like an inconsequential step to have it permanently attached. Societal pressures have already permanently inked the make-up to our identity, so why not to skin?

Worlds Collide

Last week we had dinner with some newly-made friends and the subject of politics came up. We found out what each other's viewpoint was, and then when we realized that they were opposite of each other, we simply moved on to other topics and we continued to have a good time hanging out and talking.

I have some other friends that I also disagree with on politics, but I still enjoy discussing the subject with them because we can see each other's point of view and disagree without becoming disagreeable, and overall I think we both grow from discussing alternate view points.

I'm not bringing up this difference to say that one way is better than another. I don't need to discuss every subject with every friend that I have. It doesn't matter if it's because we wouldn't disagree in a friendly way or if it's just because we have different passions and the same subjects don't appeal to both my friend and me. My point in bringing this up is that I can choose what to talk about with my friends based on their interests, their passions, and the situation; not just based on my own passions and interests. I think that choice is a good thing.

That brings me to problem I've been feeling about my blog. My blog doesn't give me that same choice as a regular conversation does. My blog isn't individual. In my blog I don't just write to one person and so it's not custom-tailored to how I best communicate with anyone. My blog is written generally to everyone, whether I know them or not, whether they hate me or not. I'm writing simultaneously to my mom and my boss, to the kid that's hated me since the 5th grade and to the friend that lives too far away to in person very often, to my best friend and to the stranger that doesn't know me at all but hates me anyway. Not that those people necessarily read my blog, but they can read it just as easily as someone that I specifically target with any post that I write.

I realize that this is the nature of blogs and of the Internet in general, and for most of my blog's lifespan there's been no problem with that. The most that I've ever had to censor myself with it was to be sure that any references to my crushes were sufficiently disguised that I wouldn't cause myself any public embarrassment. Most of my posts are just silly and stupid, and the worst thing that can happen about someone unexpected reading them is that they won't think I'm as funny as I think I am.

Maybe my life is just different than it once was and that's why my blog has become different, too. If nothing else, my current crush is well-known and she's happy to have me publicly confess it. Maybe the only thing that's really changed is the frequency and passion in recent political discussions. Or maybe nothing's changed at all, and it's just the fact that I'm a multi-faceted person, and that sometimes I want to write about something that I feel more deeply than a burrito. (I mean that metaphorically. I feel burritos all of the way down.)

I think that if I were to have my way then I'd just write about everything that I think and feel, regardless of how personal or controversial or humorous the subject is or isn't. I'd just write open and honestly about myself and all of my facets and not worry about how my reader might judge me. Sometimes that's been fine for me, but I don't know if I'm brave enough to really open myself up to every person that might wander across my blog. I'm afraid of how I might limit my life by doing that. I've realized recently that I can't be open about every facet of myself with every person that I'm friends with. Some people simply aren't comfortable with all of my facets, and unfortunately relationships change or get ruined when they're forced to see me from a point of view that they hadn't previously.

So here I am, at the end of this post, not knowing what to do with my blog and my friends. It'd be nice if I could just separate my digital persona from my real-life image so that I could still use my blog as an outlet for all of my multi-faceted thoughts, or maybe I could separate all of my facets into separate identities and blogs that wouldn't have to collide or interfere with each other. (I could keep just my food-related blogs tied to my real identity, since anyone that looks at me will know that I like food.) I'm afraid it's probably too late for any kind of separation like that for the people that already know me and read my blog, and instead I just feel sad to feel that I've already ruined both my blog and some relationships.

Or maybe I should stop taking the oxycodone so that I can stop feeling so melodramatic about the whole stupid thing.

(I should probably point out that the oxycodone is a joke for the sake of anyone that might think that I'm addicted to painkillers, but the fact that I'd have to point that out just makes me feel like I'm talking in circles.)

Nocturnal

It's 10:15pm, and I just woke up an hour ago.
I couldn't sleep last night, so I ended up staying up all night playing X-men. Then when I got home from church I fell asleep. I slept all day.
I don't know how to recover from this. What if my sleep schedule is now permanently up-side down?

No hawk

The mohawk had to come off this week, due to legal complications, but it's been a fun experience. Here's some of the responses that I've experienced:

Con

People stare a lot. Sometimes I would forget that I had a mohawk, and I'd just see this guy staring at me and wonder if he knew me or something, or see some girl that just couldn't take her eyes off of me. I'd be pretty sure that she must've wanted me bad, and then I'd remember that I had a haircut.

Pro

I went to the zoo the day after I got the 'hawk, and little kids would stare at me like crazy. They're even more shameless about it than adults, and don't mind staring. They're really nicer about it, though. I think that most of them haven't yet learned to hate people that look different, so they just thought I was interesting or something and I ended up having all of these little kids telling me stories about the snakes and bats that we were looking at. Apparently it's easier to make friends with little kids when you look funny. Maybe clowns should start wearing mohawks.

Pro

A girl in the Detroit airport gave me her phone number and wanted to hook up with me in Vegas. I suppose it's possible that she liked me because of my charm or boyish good looks, but since I don't really get a lot of girls offering me their phone numbers, I'm going to assume that the mohawk was the new thing that encouraged that.

Pro

At the Braves' game in Atlanta I got put on the big screen. When I saw them with their Fan Cam putting people up on the screen, I was pretty sure that I was a shoo-in, so I had Kim get ready, and she got a picture of it as evidence.

Pro

After the game, the lady selling Braves visors liked my haircut and gave me one for free.

Con

At said game, I got really sun-burnt. The loss of a super-power is pretty unfortunate, but let's not dwell on that anymore.

Con

Camille doesn't like me anymore and Kim thought I looked ugly.

Con

The term "WT" was used to describe me on a much more frequent basis (rivaling the frequency with which I actually deserve it).

Pro

My boss, surprisingly, didn't even care. He just took pictures of it and put them on the wall.

???

The bishop didn't express an opinion. He just kept asking, "What happened?" over and over. I didn't really have a good answer for him.

Con

I got pulled over in Nephi on the way back from Las Vegas (where I'm just another one of the many freaks and didn't get any special reactions at all). I was going pretty fast and it was obvious when the cop had seen me, so I pulled right over before he even had to turn his lights on. I would have thought he'd be pretty appreciative of this, but he wasn't pleased with me at all. He even threatened to take me straight in to jail.

It's possible that the last one didn't have anything to do with the mohawk, since I hear that Pete Lattin got arrested in Fillmore just for speeding, and he's a pretty clean-cut guy. I don't imagine that the mohawk helped, though. In fact, just for contrast, consider what happened to me today when I went to court for the same ticket. Today, however, I was mohawk-free and I wore a shirt and tie. The Judge told me to go get my ticket reduced by the DA, despite that I admitted that I deserved the ticket that I got, and the DA cut my fine in half upon hearing that I was a BYU student.
I think that people might treat you different as a mohawk-wearer, but even so, the pro's seem to balance out the con's. I just don't understand why everyone doesn't have mohawks. I guess it's a good thing they don't, or they'd all be super-villains like me.

Lost in the desert

I could have died and been lost in the desert today, and no one would have been the wiser. Consider the following scenario.

I'm driving back from Las Vegas where I went to Jordan and Ariana's wedding reception. I get to St. George and I stop for some gas and some food, and then head on my way. About half-way between St. George and Cedar City, I cross an over-pass, and suddenly my wheel starts rumbling severely. I pull over to the side of the road, and just as I feared, I have a blown-out tire.
I get my spare tire and jack out from the trunk, and start to jack up the car. The road has a slight decline, and the car rolls forward as it raises off the ground, and rolls off the jack. If only I had a brick or cinder block to put in front of the tire to keep it from rolling. I look around the side of the road for a rock to use. The ground to the side of the road slopes down into a tree-covered gully, but on the hill I see a large flat rock, about 5 inches thick. It's a good bet, so I go pick it up. It's really big and heavy, and it's awkward for me to pick up on the hill. I start carrying the rock to the car, but I slip and stumble backward, falling down on the ground. The rock drops hard on my chest, breaking several ribs and puncturing a lung. I pass out as I'm rolling down the hill into the trees. I die a few hours later.
I don't get back to Provo at all that night. My roommates don't think anything of it, because I hardly ever sleep in my own apartment anyway, and this is the second weekend in a row that I've taken a trip without telling them where I'm going. They don't even know I'm gone.
I don't go to Church the next day, but since I have such a hard time waking up every morning anyway, most everyone is used to me sleeping in, and no one is really that surprised that I'm not there, so they don't think anything of it.
Only a few of my friends even know that I've gone to Vegas, but they know that I could stay a few days just as easily as come back today, so they're not really surprised that they don't see me after a few days. Ronnie goes back to Louisiana and never knows if I come back from Vegas or not. All he knows is that I don't answer my Gmail. Jason moves back to Salt Lake and likewise thinks nothing of the fact that he hasn't seen me after a week. Tyler knew that I was gone, but quickly forgets and is just annoyed that I'm not around for him to watch TV at my place. His girlfriend then gets back in town and he stops coming over, so he never realizes that I haven't come back.
The only one of my friends that knows that I've headed back to Provo is Amy Jo. After she's been back in Provo for a few weeks she calls me when she's bored one day, but when I don't return her calls she just writes me off as a jerk and stops calling.
I don't show up to work the next week. No one at work is really surprised, since they're used to me setting my own schedule, working from home, or just taking breaks whenever I feel like it. It takes until the end of the month for them to call, and then they just want to know my new class schedule. I don't give one to them, but they don't worry about since I don't follow a schedule anyway.
Meanwhile the highway patrol finds my car on the highway. They put a notice on it, and when it remains there for a day or two, they assume it's abandoned and impound it. They never even notice my body down in the gully.
My family calls after a week or two, and I don't answer. They just complain about how crappy of a son/brother that they have, and get annoyed with me for never calling them back. After a few months of not hearing from me, they'll call my grandma and see if she's seen me. No one hears from me, and it's not until I don't come home for Christmas that they suspect that something might be wrong, as opposed to me just being a jerk.

This didn't all happen, of course. I did get a flat tire outside of St. George, but I didn't drop the rock and I was able to get back into town and buy a new tire. All in all it took me about 4 hours to get through St. George on my way back home. It is kind of depressing, though, to realize that if something had happened to me that it would have taken 4 months before anyone even started looking for me. Now I know how Bryant feels.

So I found out yesterday that I don't have the calling that I thought I had. After winter semester they just had a mass releasing of everyone, so at first I thought that I'd been released from my calling, too, right? But then the new guy in charge was like, no you're still in this calling, so I was helping him with his stuff, but then yesterday the Elder quorum president was like, no you're not in that calling. I wish they'd make up their minds.

So I broke the sabbath today and went to the Yellowcard/Something Corporate show. I think its ok since yesterday was half-Sunday, too, what with the whole conference thing. The show was great. I got to sit in the adult section, 'cause I'm a big kid, and I have to tell all of you lil' kids, that the view is a lot better from up there. I know you think its lame 'cause you don't get to mosh, but seriously, would you rather see the band or push each other? Anyway, I'm glad its only for the big kids 'cause otherwise there wouldn't be room for me and I wouldn't feel like I had an unfair advantage anymore. The opener was this killer band from New Zealand called Steriogram. I think they might be my new favorite. I get new favorites a lot. I also decided that all I really need in life is a punk rock princess.

Spring break is over. I think Vegas is my new favorite city. I learned how to play blackjack and roulette, spent a <insert favorite swear word>load of money, got kicked out of my hotel, and got the best shoe polish known to man. I'm also proud to say that I spent all weekend there without doing anything to get kicked out of the Church. Now I'm going to stay up all night and try to catch up on the work that I've blown off for the last two weeks.

I have a cold. Or something. I don't feel good. I slept until noon today, so I didn't get anything done that I was supposed to. Oh, well. At least tomorrow is stake conference so I don't have church until 2pm. That means I can sleep almost all day.