"Republican" vs "Democrat" a.k.a. "Romney" vs "Obama" aka "Us" vs "Them" aka "Good" vs "Evil" aka "Right" vs "Wrong" aka "The Nastiest Divorce I've Ever Seen"

I'm kind of/sort of a huge news junkie.  I'm constantly checking ksl and reading the free newspapers provided by my school.  As a news junkie, I feel like I'm constantly getting flooded with political "stuff". And with the upcoming election I'm getting flooded with even more political "stuff" from "friends" statuses.  I know "stuff" is such a vague term but I feel like vague is a good description of our current politics. It's not specific political arguments about how the city, county, state, or nation should be run.  It's vague finger pointing blame.

Election year 2012 is the nastiest divorce I've ever seen. (Except with most marriages the couple starts out liking each other, I don't think either political party ever liked the other political party.)  You know the ones where when the Mom and the Dad are just arguing because that's all that they do, it's not about whatever the argument was originally about.  They start arguing and they just throw every little grievance over the years and they throw the kitchen sink into the argument and they get so off topic from the original argument.  Those divorces where the couple is fighting years after the divorce is granted.  Those divorces where the parties involved believe that nothing is "their fault" it's all the other person's fault.  Yes the divorce is ugly but if the "other person" would just stop fighting, they would stop fighting, but heaven forbid they should be the one to stop the fighting first.  Those divorces where there is absolutely no possibility of the couple agreeing or compromising about anything.  Those divorces where everyone who knows someone involved in the divorce has to "pick a side".  Those divorces where both sides thinks "I'm right and they are wrong" or "I'm a good person but the other person I'm pretty sure is the devil in a thinly veiled disguise".  And everyone involved in the divorce, but especially children, which is in this case the country, gets hurt.

What makes me even sadder is when politics spills into everyday life and even relationships between friends.  For some reason people seem to think that if they post an angry Facebook post about how whatever political party/politician that they disagree with is the devil himself sent to destroy the country will convince their friends/family/acquaintances that support that devil  politician that the politician they support is actually evil.  Because of their angry and contentious Facebook post everyone is going to vote for the politician/party that they think will save the country.    But what really happens is that they just tick off their friends and start arguments.  And all the while the country becomes more and more polarized and incapable of compromising.  Compromise is exactly what this country needs.

I'm just going to say it.

Democrats aren't evil.
Republicans aren't evil.
Mitt Romney isn't evil.
Barack Obama isn't evil.

Honestly, we need Democrats, Republicans, and Independents.  We need people who think differently and who value different things.  But we also need people who able to work with people they don't agree with and who are able to compromise.  Even if they could just pretend to get along the country would be taking a step in the right direction.  Extremism causes problems.

Please research the candidates, national, state, and local, and vote for whoever you think will be the best for the country.  But don't hate people who vote differently then you.  Honestly, the world isn't going to end because of who is elected.  (The world is going to end because the Mayan calendar ends, duh.)

It's just like Miranda Lambert says in "Only Prettier"

"If you wanna pick a fight, I'm gonna have to say goodnight.

I don't have to be hateful I can just say "bless your heart"

We don't have to like each other but it's sure fun to pretend.

If you just smile and behave you can always get your way

It's a universal plan that'll get you where you can in all societies.

So let's shake hands and reach across those party lines

You got your friends just like I got mine

We might think a little differently but we got a lot in common you will see

We're just like you, only prettier.

I'm just like you, only prettier."

That's all I have to say about that.

Blog Stalker

I’ve made this confession before, but I feel it’s time for me to make it again.

I’m a blog stalker.

Some blogs I don’t feel too bad/creepy about stalking, because I know those people, their friends, family, and acquaintances I met once upon a time.  So I don’t feel so much like a “stalker” per say, more like I’m just keeping track of what’s going on with them.

But then there are the people who I’ve never met in my life who I blog stalk.  They’re kind of my guilty pleasure.  They’re the ones with perfect lives: beautiful, funny, and loving husbands; the cutest kids you’ve ever seen; who are so cute and crafty.  Some of them live in big cities, the kinds I’ve visited and fallen in love with.  There are some who live blissfully in happy valley.  There are some who live perfectly imperfect lives, the one’s who have had to overcome incredible challenges with their own health or with their children’s health, and manage to show the imperfection yet still make their lives seem perfection.  There are the one’s who wear the cutest clothes.  There are the one’s who can and do pull off red lipstick or fake eyelashes.  All the blogs I read have a faith component to them, most match my own faith but some are different.  I’ve never met these ladies.  Most are a little (or a lot) older than me.  All are in a completely different place in life than I am.  They all epitomize what I hope to become someday in a different way.  And I want to be all their best friends.  

Becoming Peter Pan

I’ve heard it said that people my age are walking around like “a bunch of twenty something year old Peter Pans.”  I never was a huge fan of Peter Pan as a kid.  I wanted to grow up.  Grownups got to do so many cool things.  And my life was going to be perfect, of course.  Like a fairytale.  Why not grow up?  I could eat ice cream for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.  I wouldn’t have to go to bed.  I would have so much independence and freedom.  I couldn’t wait to grow.

But the older I get the more I feel like I’m becoming Peter Pan, stuck in Never Land.  In some ways it’s my decision.  As I’ve grown up I’ve found that all those adults who told me not to grow up to fast were onto something.  And I’d always just thought they were crazy.  Why wouldn’t I want to grow up?  There was no such thing as growing up too fast.  But now I’m wondering where the past twenty years of my life went.  Now I’m wishing I could go back to the innocence and the simplicity of childhood.  And I do sometimes.  I eat foods I loved growing up.  I watch The Lion King (I still know most of the words).  I sleep with a stuffed animal and my “security blanket”.  I occasionally listen to the Backstreet Boys and my Touched By An Angel CD.  Sometimes I feel much younger than my twenty years.  I wonder when I became old enough or responsible enough to drive, pay rent, go to college, and feed myself.  When did I become old enough to have friends my age who are married and even starting to pop out babies?  I don’t feel old enough, mature enough, or prepared at all for anything like that.  I’d say the older I get the less I feel like I’m ready for those responsibilities.  

I feel like Taylor Swift’s song “Never Grow Up” says everything I would tell myself when I was younger and how I feel right now.

                I just realized everything I have is someday gonna be gone

                So here I am in my new apartment

                In a big city they just dropped me off

                It’s so much colder than I thought it would be

                So I tuck myself in and turn my night light on

                Wish I’d never grown up

                Wish I’d never grown up

                Oh I don’t want to grow up

                Wish I’d never grown up

                It could still be little

                I don’t want to grow up

                Wish I’d never grown up

                It could still be simple

Miranda Lambert’s song “The House That Built Me” make me feel the same way.

                I know they say

                You can’t come home again.

                I just had to come back one last time.

                I thought if I could touch this place or feel it

                The brokenness inside me might start healing

                Out here it’s like I’m someone else

                Thought that maybe I could find myself

                If I could just come in I swear I’ll leave

                Won’t take nothing but a memory

                From the house that built me.

                You leave home,

     You move on

    And you do the best you can

                I got lost in this old world,

    Have forgotten who I am

                If I could walk around I swear I’ll leave

                Won’t take nothing but a memory

                From the house that built me

In some ways it is our society that is keeping me and my friends in Never Land.  I almost have a bachelor’s degree but that doesn’t mean a lot anymore.  I’ll have to go on for my Master’s degree.  Which means more school.  I have a job, but I can’t pay for everything on my own.  It’s a frustrating to still be financially dependent on my parents but I know I’m not alone in this.  I’m actually doing better than most kids my age because I’m not in debt at all.  We want to grow up, but there are so many hoops we have to jump through first.

Basically, what I'm trying to say is this:

 It's hard to grow up.  

Sticks and Stones

(I actually wrote this post a couple of months ago and never posted it.  I think there's been enough time that I can post it now.) 

"Words can break someone into a million pieces." - Taylor Swift

I've never taken criticism very well.  Even if it's constructive criticism and I know that logically, I have always had a tendency to take criticism very personally.  It's a weakness I've been trying to work on.  When I was younger I would never let anyone read anything I had written that meant anything to me, because even if they were just correcting grammar or spelling I felt like they were ripping my work apart and in essence ripping me apart.  I hold the things that I do, the things I believe in, the things I have experienced, the things I dream about, the things that make up who I am very close to my heart.  It takes a lot for me to open up my heart, my mind, my thoughts, and my words.  And when I do finally open that deepest part of me one thoughtless word, one small line on a paper, can cause me to close them off to others forever.

I've had people the past few weeks tell me what they really think of me.  It has all been with the best intentions.  And I know that.  None of them were trying to be mean.  Some were just absent mindedly commenting.  Some were trying to help me improve.  Some think they know me well.  Others know that they don't know me at all.  But they all still felt that it was appropriate to tell me exactly what my problem(s) is(are).  And I took all their words to heart.  Every. Single. Word.    Some I tried to apply and improve on.  Some I wondered at.  Some I ranted at.  These people with their words have no idea how they tore me apart.  They have no idea that I have been torn apart from every angle the past few weeks.  They don't know how many other people have also felt like it was their place to comment on my life.  They don't know how every word makes me want to crawl under a rock, never speak again, never try again.

I wonder why I give off such a terrible first impression?  It's not intentional.

I wonder when it's appropriate to take someone's criticism to heart and to use it to make you become a better person?  And when is it appropriate to scream in their face "Screw you!  You don't know my life!  How dare you?"  When is it ok to tell someone who is a consistently negative force in you life to get out? When is it ok to tell someone who will never think you're good enough to back off and get on with their own life?

"You, with your words like knives 

And swords and weapons that you use against me

You have knocked me off my feet again

Got me feeling like a nothing

You, with your voice like nails on a chalkboard

Calling me out when I'm wounded

You picking on the weaker man

Well you can take me down with just one single blow

But you don't know, what you don't know

Someday I'll be living in a big ol' city

And all you're ever gonna be is mean

Someday I'll be big enough so you can't hit me

And all you're ever gonna be is mean

Why you gotta be so mean?

....

You have pointed out my flaws again

As if I don't already see them

I walk with my head down

Trying to block you out 'cause I'll never impress you

I just wanna feel okay again

...

And I can see you years from now in a bar

Talking over a football game

With that same big loud opinion

But nobody's listening

Washed up and ranting about the same old bitter things

Drunk and grumbling on about how I can't do [anything]"

***

"I don't need you to worry about me cause I'm alright

I don't want you to tell me it's time to come home

I don't care what you say anymore, this is my life

Go ahead with your own life, leave me alone

I never said you had to offer me a second chance

I never said I was a victim of circumstance

I still belong, don't get me wrong

You can speak your mind

But not on my time

Keep it to yourself, it's my life."

(I don't own the rights to either song)

Too harsh?  Yeah probably.  I meant every word of it. I'm sick of hearing everybody's opinion of me while I am nice and don't say what I'm really thinking.  Trust me, you don't want to know what I'm really thinking.  And it is my life and I really don't give a damn what anybody else thinks.  Especially people who don't even know me.  I try not to pass judgement on others.  Please give me the same courtesy.  Even if I'm not living my life exactly the way you think I should be.  Even if I'm not perfect.  I'm trying.  And believe it or not, I really do try to make everybody happy.  And I'm shooting for perfection.  So I'd rather not have my flaws pointed out to me.  Because I'm probably my worst critic.  So yes, I actually am aware of my flaws.  I am aware of what is not perfect in my life.  In all aspects of my life.  Nothing that anyone has told me the past week or two has surprised me.  But having it pointed out and elaborated on hasn't helped me at all.  

Dear Zombies Occupying Wall Street:

I can't put my thoughts on the zombies occupying wall street (and salt lake as of today) any better than the Beatles did in their song "Revolution". So here's the lyrics (which I don't own.)

You say you want a revolution

Well you know

We all want to change the world

You tell me that its evolution

Well you know

We all want to change the world

*********

You say you got a real solution

We all want to see the plan

You ask me for a contribution

Well you know

We're all doing what we can

*********

(for the tea party, just for fun)

You say you'll change the constitution

Well you know

We'd all love to change your head

*********

Don't you know it's gonna be alright

Basically I don't think zombie occupation is going to help anything.  I don't even think it's addressing the real problem. In the words of Forest Gump:

That's all I have to say about that.

Maybe Someday I'll Write A Short Blog Post. Today Is Not That Day.

I'm a very introspective learner.  I love it when things apply directly to me and my life.

I loved my biology classes in high school because when they would talk about things like cells and genetics it would apply directly to my life.  I have loved my human anatomy classes because when they get to things like blood, livers, gall bladders, spleens, and medical procedures I'm like "Oh my gosh.  That's my life."  It also made me feel smart because my teachers didn't dumb it down for me like doctors and nurses usually do for patients.

My favorite part of my child development classes are things that apply directly to my childhood.  I liked my parenthood and marriage classes because I could see how they will be applied to my life in the future.

 If I learn something that I've had previous experience with or can apply to my current situation, I'm a happy girl and I learn it much faster and it sticks with me longer. I think that there's almost a sense of validation that I get from all these classes and things I'm learning, a sense that I'm not the only one who experiences things the things I do. I get a certain sense of normalcy.  I also get a chance often to show off my abnormal side and get validation for the fact that I've been through hard things.  I try not to do that too often because if I do I start to just feel sorry for myself, but sometimes it's good to feel like I'm accomplishing the normal while being abnormal.

I'm quickly realizing that the Adolescent Development class that I'm currently taking is going to be one of those classes where I get really introspective and relate everything I'm learning to my life, more than I was expecting it to be.

The past two class periods we were talking about adolescent health, and I wasn't really expecting it to apply to me too much.  I was fairly healthy as a teenager, never hospitalized once.  I was surprised how much of what I was learning I could really relate to.

We watched a movie about teens in hospitals and they talked about the constant poking and beeping machines and losing control and privacy and people coming into your room during the middle of the night and asking you the same questions over and over again.  One of the parts that made me laugh the most was when they talked about the medical students and residents coming in a big group and just like listening and staring at you and taking notes. I can relate to that one.

Then we watched another movie that a kid made to explain to his peers about the accident that put him in a wheel chair so that they would better understand how to react to him.  I thought it was a brilliant idea.

After that we talked about teenagers self image and how that is impacted by chronic illness and all the restrictions that adolescents have when they live with a chronic illness. We also talked about the dual need to feel normal but also to have people understand all the things you have been through and how they can be conflicting.

The whole time we were talking about this I felt validated.  I felt like "Ok, I'm not the only who has felt this way." I remember always feeling somewhat like I was the only one experiencing everything, especially when it came to those nasty little rare blood disorder experiences, even though I logically understood that I wasn't the only one.  I don't know, it's like sometimes it's cool to be the oddity - the unique one - like when you attend your Stats class and you talk about the normal distribution of hemoglobin and your hemoglobin is literally off the charts (like no joke, not even on there in the abnormal area). But sometimes I wanted someone to understand exactly.  I mean people can empathize, and they do and it does/has made me feel better.  My parents have always tried to understand and I think they do better then anyone else I know.  But it's like unless you've actually been through it, you don't really understand.

Some days I feel completely normal and don't even think about my blood disorder.  Sometimes I look at myself and think "Oh my gosh I am yellow! I'm a freak! I'm like a neon sign! I'm pretty sure I should be glowing in the dark at this point!", not as much as I used to though.  Sometimes I would lay awake at night freaking out about what would happen the next time I got sick enough to go to the hospital and thinking that for sure I was going to die the next time it happened.  Sometimes I'd freak out about what I would do the next time I had to get my blood drawn or get a shot or get an IV or have a surgery.  I wouldn't even be feeling sick and I'd worry about these things.  Sometimes I'd even think about what I'd do if I ever got cured or how life would be without the blood disorder.  How different would I be then?

I remember sitting on my floor in the middle of the night and thinking "You know my doctors are pretty good at treating my physical symptoms.  Everyone is always so concerned about how healthy I am.  Everyone can see my yellow skin.  Everyone knows somethings wrong with me and they are very concerned about the physical effects of my disorder.  But what about the emotional effects?  What about the social effects?  What about how freaked out I am over needles and getting sick?  What about how no guy likes me or will ever like me because I'm like a freaking neon sign?  What about how I'll never get married because who wants to marry a bag of medical bills and that's all I am?  What about how I'll never be pretty again because of the whole neon sign thing?  What about how terrified I am of the whole world because what if it causes pain like the pain I used to feel when I was little and sick? What about how upset I am because I'll always be the slowest and the worst at sports and I always get so tired?" (Yeah I was a little dramatic back then.)  Honestly that's what I used to think, not all the time, but some of the time.  Luckily as I've gotten older I've been able to work through a lot of these issues on my own. But I used to think I was kind of weird and that I was probably overreacting a lot in those emotional moments.  I still think maybe I was a little bit but attending class today I realized that they are actually pretty normal things for an teenager with chronic illness to feel and think - even if they weren't actually in the hospital.  I feel validated and I don't feel so weird for feeling like my disorder affected me more than just physically.  I think my family probably realized this to a certain extent (my parents are super observant like that), but I know I at least tried to keep from them and everyone else just how much I felt that way and I'd like to think succeeded.  I just can't even describe how much better I feel knowing that I'm not weird or overreacting about how my disorder affected me.  This just added another level of understanding in my life.

I'm going to a new doctor, trying new treatments, and in some ways I'm excited. I feel so grown up going to the doctor all by myself, even though I also feel a little nervous.  I can get poked with out screaming, yelling, crying, kicking, and throwing a fit.  I'm twenty but there's still a part of me that wants to act like the terrified two year old every time I go in.  But I don't.  And that's a big improvement for me. I feel more in control this time around.  I don't know, there is something about the knowledge of knowing that I could say no, at any point in this process, and there is nothing my doctors, nurses, parents, or anyone else can do about it. It's a powerful feeling, this feeling of control.  And just knowing that I have that option, that control, makes saying yes easier.  What can I say, agency like that is amazing.  At the same time I'm nervous.  What if it doesn't work?  What if I'm just feeding my hypochondriac-ism?  What if it's more painful than helpful?  What if there are no new answers? What if I've just got to keep putting up with this for the rest of my life?  What if I've healed enough that I don't need to seek healing anymore?  What if this is all just bringing up old emotions that I had already worked through and making me work through them all over again?

I don't feel like I'm looking for a "cure" for the jaundice anymore.  I found that "cure" and it didn't fix everything like I thought it would.  Now I'm looking for a "cure" for the anemia, for the tiredness.  But what if it doesn't fix everything like I think it will?

If I do find a "cure" I'll probably just be handed a whole new set of problems to work out.  That's life isn't it. Do I want to switch these problems I've had forever, that I know like the back of my hand, for a new set of problems?  These problems, these issues, are comfortable and predictable. I can handle these problems.  I don't know if I can handle new problems.

The thing is that I wouldn't trade this whole experience for the world.  If you want a succinct way of how I feel about my blood disorder and everything I've learned from this you can watch this  Stacey Kramer: The best gift I ever survived | Video on TED.com.  Sadly, I obviously can't put how I feel into three minutes or less.  But I have learned so much.  I have learned compassion and empathy.  I've learned I'm stronger than I think I am and that I can do hard things.  I've learned that normal is overrated.  I've learned to ask for help when I need it.  I've learned that I'm loved and that when I can't make it on my own, there is always someone there to help lift me.  I've learned that life is complicated but it's supposed to be that way.  I've learned that as crappy as your life may be, there is always someone that has it worse off. I've found my course for life because of this challenge.  I've learned that challenges are very personal and unique and situated exactly how they are needed for each individual person.  I've learned to rely on the Lord, on the scriptures, and on prayer when I cannot go any further on my own.  I've learned that I have a very personal Father in Heaven who know's exactly what I need and knows that I am a very introspective learner and so He gave me a challenge that would teach me things I couldn't learn any other way and would set me in a course that I wouldn't have chosen for myself. I have learned that with the right perspective, challenges can be blessings in disguise.

Playlist:
"Yellow" by Coldplay
"The Wizard and I" from Wicked
Skin (Sarabeth) by Rascal Flatts
"Lessons Learned" by Carrie Underwood

My Institute Teacher Says That My Generations Biggest Problem Is That We Talk Too Much

I don't know what he's talking about.

Actually - that's a lie -  I do know what he's talking about.  He's talking about texting, facebook, twitter, blogs, and other social networking stuff.  I'll say this though, the "older generation" is always complaining about how my generation doesn't know how to talk (face to face).  Maybe not the best choice of words on my teachers part but I get what he's saying.

I agree with him to a certain extent - my generation is prone to let social networking take over their lives and use it as a great tool for procrastination.  Or maybe that's just what I sometimes allow social networking do.  I agree that we shouldn't let our virtual worlds take over reality. And maybe (just maybe) not everyone wants or should know my opinion about everything or what I'm doing every second of the day.  Maybe my blog posts could be a little shorter (it's not like I write a novel every time I blog. Or post all of my pictures at once in a forever long post.)  Maybe I don't have to record everything through pictures, blogging, facebook statusing, and journaling.  Maybe that's a little bit excessive.  Maybe.

But I was talking to my grandmother the other day and she was telling me that she hates to write.  She told me that when she was growing up if her writing wasn't perfect she'd get a slap on the wrist and so she still to this day feels like she is being judged when she writes anything.  This is a really sad fact for me because the older I get, the more I realize that she grew up in a completely different world then I did, and it's a world I know next to nothing about.  I would love to read her journal and to know what life was like for her in the moment, when she was my age.  The more family history I work on the more I wish that I had the record of their lives out of their very own mouths, not just out of their family members and descendants interpretations, remembrances, and observations. I love and treasure my grandfathers personal history that he wrote about himself before he died.  I feel like it gives me a chance to get to know him even better.  I also treasure the history of my other grandfather that my mom compiled.  But sometimes I think it would be nice to read what they were feeling in the moment when they were my age and what life was like for them then.  I really like reading the journal entries of people in different time periods.  I went to visit the LDS Church History Library and I was impressed how many journals they have available to read.  I read the story of someone who was in Hawaii on Pearl Harbor day.  It was amazing.  I recently got to ride around with one of my grandmothers and she told me all about the people who had lived the places we visited and what they did with their lives.  She even told me some stories about her and her young family riding down that old dirt road years ago.  They were so different from me, and yet they are apart of me. I felt connected to them somehow.  I love hearing their stories.  I guess that's why I don't mind lectures from my "crazy great uncle" about days long gone.

Maybe someday someone will want to hear my generations story.  With how quickly the world is changing, my children's and grandchildren's world and lives will be so different from mine.  If they ever do, they'll have plenty to look at and read to hear our story, to see our world.