Yep

So Sunday night was the big test. I went to ward stare, I selected my prey, and then... Nothing. It's not that I chickened out, the timing just wasn't right. I had to do somethings for my calling, so I never got the chance to start what I can only imagine would have been a completely awkward conversation. Fret not, however, because I will have the chance again and again, as single's wards always have transparent activities to get the singles with all their hormones in one central location. Awkward. As one soon-to-be-married member of my ward pointed out last night, "It's a single's ward. It's supposed to be awkward." So true.

"A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love , from love to matrimony in a moment."

Just a little note before I get to today's thoughts. I know that I can say some things in this blog that might sting or might be a little unsettling. That is not their intent. I am writing simply to give myself an outlet. I do not wish to offend, especially those that I love. If I have or do offend, I apologize; however, I am certain that it will happen again. On to my thoughts...

So this one ties in better with the title of the last one, but I think the two are connected anyway. Remember my oracle, Jules, I was telling you about? Well, as always, she had more to say about what is wrong with our generation. We are afraid to date. Not only are we afraid to date, but we worry too much about marriage. These seem to contradict, no? Allow me to explain. As I said in my last post, we tend to hang out rather than go on dates. As we hang out we "get to know" each other and then decide whether or not we want to go on a date, if we go on a date at all. It seems that my generation goes straight from hanging out, to being exclusive, to being married without a whole lot of dating in between. I dare say that we don't really even know how to date--guys, ALWAYS walk a girl to her door at the end of the night. It doesn't mean you have to kiss her, although do if you are feelin' it. And always open the door, pull out chairs, etc. BE gentlemen and if you are, she will be a lady.-- we have forgotten how to do it because we just don't. Jules says this is because we want everything to be perfect. We want to know the consequences before we make the actions. We have all become skeptics. And since we want to know what we are getting into, we put up barriers. A boy or a girl will do one weird thing and we throw in the towel. So he picks his nose at stop lights (everyone has tried it at least once, no sense in denying it), but that doesn't mean that he can't make an amazing husband! Marriage is tough. It is a blessing worth fighting for. That means that your soon-to-be-spouse, who is out there I promise (which is what all my friends keep telling me-bless their hearts), is going to have flaws. That is a fact. How you deal with those flaws will determine the level of happiness in your marriage and beyond. "He sips soup through the gap between his front teeth" "Don't touch that-it's a trademark move." Watch the movie and be edified.

One last thing. Asking for and accepting a date does not equal asking for and accepting marriage. Yes, the stereotypical mormon moves quickly, but not that quickly. Dating is fun! It is an opportunity to discover who you are and what you want in a spouse. It is not like signing your marriage license. So girls, when he asks you out, GO! and enjoy yourself. Learn something new. Boys, ASK! You don't have to decide if she will be your wife before you take her to dinner. Yes, it costs money, but in the eternal scheme of things, money is no object! :) And finally, don't go to a movie on the first date. How will you ever get to know each other if you can't talk? Save the movies for when you are hitched. It will keep the temptations away and once you are married, you don't have a whole to talk about anymore anyway :)

"it is better to know as little as possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life."

Rejection sucks. It doesn't matter why you are being rejected or how many times. It is never fun. Today I was discussing my self-proclaimed spinsterhood with a very good friend, let's call her Jules. She is always willing to talk and always willing to solicit advice, asked for or otherwise (but I still love ya Jules!). At any rate, she went off about what is wrong with us twenty-somthings. I should mention she is a rather conservative young lady, a bit of a traditionalist if you will, but every now and then she makes a good point: "Dating doesn't exist anymore. That's what's wrong with your generation."So true. We don't date. We "hang out," participate in NCMO (if you don't know ask your mom, or a teenage boy with raging hormones), and then if we really like the person we think about going out, like in public, with dinner and a movie or bowling (when you are "dating" there is only so much you can do when you are mormon). According to my sage adviser, Jules, this is backward. And I agree. But what are we going to do? (I just committed two grammatical sins, anyone?) If a boy just walks up to a girl he finds attractive at an activity or on the street and asks her out, he is seen as a creep and would probably be maced. But that's how it used to be in the good ol' days before texting, facebook, and e-mail. Human beings would actually interact-like face to face-I know, unheard of. Weird. But I swear to you it is true. Which reminds me of something else I was thinking of today. See, I had another job interview today and I had the hardest time articulating my thoughts into words. Because of technology, we don't have to do that all to often anymore. It's a problem (what is ironic about this post is that I am participating in the very thing I am ranting about :)). So I have decided that at a young single function in the near future I am going to interface the old fashioned way like they did in my novel (anyone guessed it yet?) and walk up to a boy that I find at least mildly attractive and talk to him. I know, loony bin, but it just might work. I challenge all you other spinsters to do the same! I will let you know what happens when I do and I know just the event: ward stare [aka ward prayer-a tradition in student wards that I still have yet to figure out-we drive to some place to participate in an activity that is sacred and meant to be done in our closets (privately). Just another chance to oogle the goodies-am I right guys?). Anyway-I will let you know how it goes. Until then, "If the dispositions of the parties are ever so well known to each other, or even so similar beforehand, it does not advantage their felicity in the least." More on that tomorrow.

"Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance"

It's summer. At least in the life of an aspiring school teacher-cache county school district, if you are reading this my students refer to me as captain, my captain. Hire me! Don't you love the dash-Emily Dickinson eat your heart out! But I digress...Oh, because it is summer I am reading a lot of books of a wide variety-stick with me, there is a point here-one of which has also been the inspiration of my rantings and thoughts. Yesterday I was at lunch with a fellow spinster-and I say that with the greatest sincerity-and the current book I am perusing came up in conversation. *Disclaimer: I am a cynic. Blame it on my father, my no-good-dirty-rotten-pig-stealin'-great-great-grandfather, or my choice of study at college, I don't care. The truth is, I have a hard time not being skeptical. That being said, I know passive voice (If you haven't guessed it by now, I want to be an English teacher, but I break all of the rules), I was complaining to my favorite spinster about the nature of this novel. I will not disclose the title of the work as I am sure I would have a hound of angry loyalists, my aunt being one of them, searching for my address so they can come slit my neck in the night. I don't like it. It is so degrading and chauvinistic, even though it is written by a woman. All the characters care about is getting married. A new man moves to town and all the single ladies start going all "Mean girls" on each other to gain his hand in marriage. Barf. Their is more to life than marriage, right? Wrong. As my eloquent friend pointed out at lunch, "In our world, being single is like a disease. Everyone thinks something is wrong with us and they can't wait to fix it." Do you know what it is like to be asked at every family function about your dating life? If you are a fellow twenty-something spinster you do. Never mind the fact that I am brilliant, according to my mom and that history professor that reminds me of my dad, I am talented, freakin' hilarious, a college graduate, and a world traveler-I recently returned from Madison, WI, believe me, its a whole 'nother world over there. Let's talk about the novel I want to write, my greatest fears, my next trip-I'm thinking going old school on a train-or my exercise plan, anything that will keep me from seeing your face contort into what I can only imagine is your fart face as you attempt to keep that disappointed look in your eyes from being obvious when I tell you that I am currently not seeing someone..."When you say you are seeing Penny, what exactly do you mean?" Disclaimer #2: I tend to throw in random movie and television quotes. I cannot for the life of me remember the word "collaborate" in an important job interview, but I can tell you the plot line of just about every episode of my favorite television show or movie. Which brings me to the title of this post. That novel that I told you about. It has started to grow on me like a tumor that turns out to be your twin that you consumed in the womb and as such I have decided to pay tribute to its glorious lines by including them where I can in my posts. Brownie points to whoever can guess the novel. Sorry mom, you are out of the game. Oh yeah, to finish my thoughts about the conversation I had with my fellow leprous-lady, we are happy. We love being single. Yes, we want our prince charming to come and sweep us off our feet. We want our lime jello laden, mini van drivin' eternal bliss. But we also recognize that some people are like a fine baby sharp cheddar, they taste better with age and are worth the wait. So for all you aunts, uncles, and creepy cousins out there, the next time you saddle up to your twenty-something spinster cousin, before you spray your partially masticated frog-eye salad on her new dress as you open your mouth to ask her when the big day is, remember, you may be married, but she can travel around the world without a sippy cup in her purse or a vomit stain on her blouse. Ask her what fun plans she has for the summer and hurry home because you know how cranky junior gets when Mr. Bear keeps him up past nine o'clock.

Peer Pressure Pandemic

So, after much urging by my mother, and with a little soul searching, I have decided to begin writing. It seems so cliche in a world inundated with the ramblings of so many. I doubt that very many will read this, but it will make my mother happy and in the eternal scheme of things, that's all that really matters, right? Hi Mom! So here is how it is going down. I have taken it upon myself to be the voice of the twenty-something population that is taking Utah by storm. There are so many menaces out there now-a-days! Sheesh. I have narrowed it down to just Utah because being in your twenties and, the real kicker, single in Utah, is different than being single and in your twenties, heaven forbid you make it to your thirties, anywhere else...although, I have never really lived anywhere else so if you can prove me wrong, power to you. At any rate, I will make observations at my various social activities, also known as "Young Single Adult" activities and comment on their lucidity. Not that exciting? Perhaps. But maybe, just maybe, somebody out there will be able to relate and feel better about the disease from which they suffer. Oh, and in case anyone reads this and they are not related to me, I am an unemployed college graduate, female, single, and you guessed it, mormon. Stayed tuned for tomorrow's post that explains the disease and how everyone and their grandma has the cure but you.