The Single Mormon Girl's Guide to Life

   Seems I'm not alone out there in the blogosphere. I started reading the older posts on this site today, the first one dating all the way back to November 2007. This really needs to be a book because I just couldn't stop reading. A gold mine of ideas about being single that I intend to steal and use here in my own blog. Miss Jones, who posts on this blog, must've gotten married because she hasn't posted anything new since December of last year. Perhaps it's time for someone new to take up the baton...
   Anyway go check it out here's the link http://singlemormongirl.wordpress.com/2008/01/
Sorry, gotta run now. I'm gonna do more research for my next post and I have an English midterm I really need to be studying for right now and my creative writing piece needs to be ready to post by next week for that class and I haven't seen my favorite nephew since my birthday. 
   Life is pretty good right now. I just finished reading "Bad Guys of the Book of Mormon" and yes, it's just as fun to read as it sounds, everyone should go pick it up.
   I started praying again, I'd kinda given it up since being alone is so discouraging but every once in a awhile I can think of a good reason to kneel down, give the Lord an update on my life and acknowledge His hand in all things. I've started attending Sunday worship service again but only because there's lots of little toddlers in my family ward who like to wander over to the pew I share with my sister and her family. I cuddle them on my lap (Calvin's getting too big!), let them dig through my purse, draw pictures for them on the program, look at story books and play cat's cradle with the older kids. Occasionally we might glance up to hear what the speaker is saying! I really like my family ward.
   So, advice for the day: keep busy, pray always and read your scriptures, that's the only way to beat loneliness.

Ten Years Ago

 

 

    That was me ten years ago. The other girls are Mindy (last name I forget) in white and I'm leaning on Marcie Hastings. These two were my roomates at Southen Utah University, Fall semester 2001. Mindy is married but Marcie's living it up with all the single ladies in San Fransisco. Don't ask me how she does it.
    Ever wish you could go back in time? I was 27 years old in that picture. Cedar City, Utah was, and still is, a small town with an even smaller ratio of active, ambitious, single Mormon guys who were also pursuing an education at SUU. Dating consisted of competing with ten other apartments of six girls each for the time and attention of the 20 males (give or take) in our complex-inviting them over for movies, dinner, card games and just hanging out. Young men like Scott (shaken not stirred) Bond who is now married and Mark Willey, now divorced, who had the sexiest blue eyes that made my heart skip a beat every time he smiled at me. Both young men were highly sought after by the ladies but skittish about making any formal dating invitations or commitments to any one girl. "Why date one when you can have them all?" seemed to be their motto. I was never the competitive-type when it came to staking a claim in the Sexual Market of Utah. Don't be fooled by my pleasant demeanor in that picture, I tried very hard not to be discouraged at my lack of dating opportunites back in those days.
   Like any unmarried 27 year old, I was scared to death of actually having to go out into the world soon and begin a career. Like the movie "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" our "cultural timeline" decreed that while remaining chaste and virtuous was very important, nevertheless, if I didn't start getting some action in the bedroom soon, I was already an old maid at 27, I might as well be a pumpkin. It was a Mormon double standard back then and, by golly, some things just never change!
   The student body at SUU ten years ago was, and probably still is, mainly women majoring in pink collar areas like nursing, psychology, English and (like me) Elementary Education so I knew I wasn't alone in the majority of dateless women. I knew I wasn't the only single white female panicking at the thought that everyone else was getting more action than I was. I'd remind myself how fortunate I was to have a job filling orders at the Wal-Mart warehouse 40 miles south in Hurricane that paid $14/hr. The work wasn't too hard but I longed for something more challenging. I was grateful I could afford the commute (remember when gas was dirt cheap at $1.25/gallon?) but the drive was long and lonely. My weeks were filled with classes in the morning and home from work by 10:30 every night. Weekends I studied, read books by my favorite LDS authors, did laundry, and cleaned house. Sunday was church meetings, potluck dinners, singing at a local nursing home with other young single adults and practicing the piano whenever I could. I was grateful I earned enough to pay my own tuition with enough left over to put something away every month. I was grateful to enjoy so many hobbies and develop talents and hang out with fun groups of people, yet, I remember going to my male spiritual leaders, sitting in their offices and weeping bitterly. I would gladly trade it all for the opportunity to be a wife and mother. I was so tired of this single life. I just got another wedding announcement from another old friend or missionary companion. "When's it gonna be my turn?" I'd wail. Accepting the box of Kleenex I was handed along with some sympathy (I feel bad now for putting those good men in such an uncomfortable situation of female hysteria) there was nothing they could say except to counsel me to keep being patient and that God loved me and was aware of my anxiety. Someone was going to come along, they promised.
    Ten years later and I'm still waiting for someone to come along. Oh well. At least I don't cry as much as I did back then. Time really does heal some wounds. But, if I could somehow have the opportunity to reach back in time and talk to that young woman-this is the advice I'd give her, along with the name to remember-"Facebook. Buy up stock, trust me it's gonna be big..."
    First, I'd tell myself, "Get thee out of this one horse town and to the big city of Salt Lake and the U of U or Provo and BYU. Drop out of SUU, take all that Wal-Mart money you've been saving and enroll thyself in another institute of higher learning." I'd warn myself that while marriage prospects in the city probably weren't any better, at least I'd have the pride of graduating from a decent school with a higher percentage of career opportunities.
   Second, "You know those foreboding feelings you keep having of "is this what I REALLY want to do?" well, follow those promptings and change your major from Elementary Education to...something else." How I wish I could've warned myself that going forward to graduate from SUU with a degree in Elem Ed would lead to nothing but more heartache and very little job opportunity. I was never meant to be a teacher of small children. There was never a classroom with my name on it out there, anywhere. By changing schools, moving to an area with more people (and one awesome Salt Lake County Library system) perhaps I would've found my niche sooner or met someone who would've touched my life in a significant way.
   Ten years later...

Work and the Glory 20th Anniversary

    Some books are like old friends, every once in a while you have to go back and see how they’re doing. Perhaps that’s what inspired me to go my bookcase and retrieve the first volume in a much loved bestselling series I hadn’t read in several years. Glancing at the publication date I was surprised to note it had been over twenty years since this book hit the shelves with no commemoration of its birth. How could that be?

    I remember the first time I read Gerald N. Lund’s Work and the Glory series as a college student in 1994. Word of mouth introduced me to the first volume, Pillar of Light, which I found so enchanting, I longed to step into the pages of the book and live the church history saga right along with the fictional Steed family. When Joseph Smith confided to Nathan his encounter in the Sacred Grove, the burning in my twenty year-old bosom took me completely by surprise. Being a lifelong member, I knew about the First Vision and the Book of Mormon yet reading about it in a fictional setting suddenly made it all come alive. Through Lund’s miraculous storytelling, Joseph Smith had been transformed from an obscure “founding father” into a real human being. As the centuries between 1820 and 1994 melted away, I became caught up in the joys and sorrows of the Steed family. I didn’t just know anymore, I KNEW that Joseph Smith was a prophet and that the Book of Mormon was true. Like millions of other readers, I was re-converted to my own faith right along with those early saints.

     When Christmas of 1994 came that year, I was like Laura Ingalls and her new doll in Little House in the Big Woods. For the entire day my arms cradled that copy of A Season of Joy while I snuck quick peeks between activities in happy anticipation of the reading experience to come. I had the Work and the Glory Calendar, the CDs, and packed the theater with other fans for the 2004 movie adaptation.

    This was before Harry Potter and Twilight; the Internet was still in its infancy, never before had a series of books captured the LDS market like Gerald Lund’s which went on to sell millions of copies for Bookcraft and to inspire other LDS writers such as Ron Carter and Dean Hughes to create their own bestselling historical series. Who would’ve thought after twenty years this remarkable fictional family, the Steeds, who converted us to the church would become as obsolete as the idea of family itself? We’ve had plenty of stories from the white, Caucasian, British descendants of the church. I wonder who will be the next young, promising writer, perhaps South American or Asian, to pick up the baton and share their own country’s story of the restoration of the gospel of Christ?    

    Now, here we are, over twenty years later: LDS missionaries sing and dance on Broadway, two Mormon hopefuls run for president, youth of the world plug themselves into yet another electronic device, cohabitation runs rampant among single adults and while 137 temples dot the earth you’d be hard pressed to find even that many temple marriages in just one typical LDS ward. What a remarkably simplistic world those 1800's-era Steeds enjoyed! So, here we have this antiquated book series, this remarkable missionary tool, sitting all but forgotten. I think a wake-up call is in order and here’s one avid reader who hasn’t forgotten the series that reminded her just how great and glorious this work was and still is.

Happy 21st birthday Work and the Glory.

Here is my Work and the Glory Book Blog with a chapter by chapter summary of all ten volumes. Happy Reading!

Another Solitary Birthday

   OK, "Solitary" isn't entirely true. Yes, today (September 23) is my birthday but I didn't spend it entirely alone and I promise this won't be a melancholy entry. We all get older on our birthdays, not that there's anything wrong with that.

    Hard facts first. Despite Mom and Stepdad going out of town, my Mom did call me today as she always does on her children's birthdays and in her egocentric, hypoctrical way reminded me this is also an important day for HER as she reflects on the many hours she spent in labor with me and that if it weren't for her, I wouldn't be here (when did we become a Jewish family?). I thanked her, hung up and left to join Mary and my favorite nephew who treated me to dinner at Chessecake Factory. Love that place. Calvin greeted me with a big hug and a homemade birthday card that I will treasure always.

     The good (crazy?) people I work with at Alta View Hospital in Sandy, Utah had a cake for me today along with a signed card and lots of happy birthday wishes. Despite the low pay, this is the best job I've ever had and I've had quite a few in my life. Somebody better warn Henri not to look behind her! That's Brian with the knife. Katie is front row next to Henri. Back row (L to R) Kami, Ruth, Annette, Me, Jimae Kenney (Food Service Manager), Sara.

      With Mom being out of town, my brother, Mike, four years my junior, invited me over to spend the night. He's the boomerang child who recently moved back home due to his overwhelming debt. Out of all my siblings, Mike and I have always been the closest and now that we're both adults we share an extra bond being the only two in the family not currently in a serious relationship or married with kids. We spent an enjoyable evening staying up till 1am talking, comparing notes on being nagged by the "old fogies" for circimstances over which we have no control and playing old school video games like MarioKart and MarioBros3 on the old NES and N64 systems.

     Spending the night at my Mom's house also gave me the opportunity to practice the piano something I haven't done in well over a year as living in a 1bdrm walk-up doesn't allow room for an upright. One day my circumstances will change allowing me a place with proper musical accommodations. I was pleased my familiar Beethoven and Solfeggietto pieces were still there. Just like riding a bicycle. Rondo Alla Turca, on the other hand, was nearly nonexistant. I quickly gave up trying to remember the correct fingerings and went back to my favorite Beethoven Pathetique.

     When I was studying organic chemistry (and failing miserably) I marveled at the fact that on a good day I could play the entire second movement of Beethoven's Pathetique from memory yet when it came to remembering all the steps to an Esterification reaction for the final exam, I choked. Didn't lead to acceptance at the University of Utah's College of Nursing, but I'm happy to report that I did retake the class and passed. Having a handsome German named Lars for a TA lab instructor that summer didn't hurt either! Ah, memories. The way he explained the chemical bonds, the "click" my brain made when it all suddenly made sense, the effort he put into making our labs fun and interesting, the light flirting I enjoyed every time he came near me, "Stop that, heart, he's married!" Who knew learning organic chemistry could be so romantic? Like Beethoven.

     If Utah schools didn't suffer from such a lack of sufficient funding (and as a former Elementary Education major I feel I can speak authoritatively) and if today's curriculum hadn't made such a drastic shift from Kenntnis (hands on learning) to Wissenschaft (book learning) perhaps more people like me who struggled in Math and Science in grade school might've saved time and money taking those remedial math and science courses in college. What a difference having the opportunity to attend the U with it's state-of-the-art chemistry lab, having teachers like Professor Richmond blowing things up during lecture and enthusiastic aides like Lars who opened my eyes to what a fascinating subject chemistry can be. Our great nation needs to get back to that kind of teaching in its public schools. Science is a hands-on subject.

     My birthday ended with the opportunity to attend a free showing of "A Midsummer Night's Dream" on the University of Utah campus. I wanted to compare it to the Utah Shakespeare Festival version I saw over the summer. I appreciated the different interpretation of tonight's performance but I'm a bit old school, some things just didn't sit well with me: the character of Bottom being played by a woman (her hammy performance did steal the show) the absence of the well known final lines traditionally spoken by Puck, "Give me your hands, if we be friends" and other lines, probably edited for time, the modern day costumes, but I can live with all that, I can accept those minor flaws.
    I had to draw the line over the dual roles of Oberon/Duke/Titania/Hippolyta switching genders for the fairy royalty. Hearing Titania's famous soliloquies spoken by a male addressed as "King Titania" is just wrong while Oberon is one of my favorite Shakespearean characters and having all his lines spoken by a woman referring to herself as "Queen Oberon" made the whole performance fall flat. Luckily the Pyramus and Thisby play at the end made up for the dissapointments. At least it was free for U students and something fun to do to celebrate my birthday.

     With each day, I'm glad I decided to change my major and return to school. I'm not bitter anymore about not becoming an elementary school teacher or a nurse or even a CNA. At last, at the tender age of 37, I feel like I've finally found my niche in life. For the first time in my life I'm free from being that contortionist I once saw in Vegas, forcing myself to fit in a box beyond my capacity.

     I'm an English major-you do the Math.

 

A Single Funeral

     My name is not Maud. I didn't attend this funeral today looking for a Harold. I read her obituary in the paper. This young woman was but one year older than me. She had never married. From her picture, she looked just as boring and wholesome as I've been known to be referred to. I was curious, how was her family handling such a sad loss? What would the funeral service be like for such a lovely young woman with no husband or children to mourn her passing? It was my day off; the funeral was just across the valley in Herriman so I decided to go.
    
     It was a very nice service. Her only sister got very emotional as she spoke of her deceased sister's selfless acts of service, despite her health problems. She identified five things that served as examples for how we should all live and which her sister never failed in emulating: Friendship, Service, Hard Work, Forgiveness and I forget the last one (five thousand pens cluttering up my desk at home but not a single one in my purse) but all gave me pause to reflect and consider my own life.

     Her five brothers also took part in the service and also got very emotional as they spoke of how proud they were of their sister who always put the cancer patients she cared for first as well as being a favorite aunt to her nieces and nephews. Her father spoke and anyone could tell just by looking at him that he was a good man who had raised his children well, loved their mother very much and was a good provider for his family.
    
     There was no graveside dedication as this young woman had requested her body be donated to science at the University of Utah. I couldn't help but be impressed at both the courage of the deceased in donating her body to science and in the way the family was handling her last wishs with such grace. In the midst of such melancholy circumstances they managed to find dignity and closure by pulling together. What a lucky young woman to have been born into such a family.

     As the years have passed with no opportunity to meet anyone, I've given a lot of thought to what my own funeral will be like and how my own family will handle it.When I was taking anatomy at the University of Utah, I'd often cheer myself up with the thought that if I didn't make it through this grueling course alive, I'd want my own body donated to the anatomy lab with a little note tied to my big toe, "A C+ in Mark Nielsen's class can really kill you".

      I could never do that to my own family-request my body be donated to science. Even though I was already dead, Mom would kill me for denying her the opportunity to weep and wail over an open grave. When it's my time to go, I don't want anyone to be sad for I know certain things to be true and I'd want to reassure my family that I'll be going to a better place where I'll be welcomed with open arms. Who knows, maybe there's already someone waiting for me there on the other side. I even got bored one night a few months ago and wrote my own obituary. That's the curse/blessing of being single-lots of personal time.
    I'm not afraid to die. After the hell of this life, honestly, how bad can it be?

Declaring Spinsterhood

   I just finished re-reading that last entry, "A Single Woman's Liberation" and feel a need to explain myself because, wow, I was really ranting there. I'm not always like that. Living alone can really drive me nuts sometimes and I start focusing too much on being alone. In my heart, I think God understands, after all the lightening hasn't struck me yet when I sometimes curse His name and rant and rave about my lot in life. I'm like a child throwing a tantrum and after the storm has passed I'm always in awe at God's extended hand of friendship. It's OK. He understands. I'll try again tomorrow.

   Let me just take a paragraph or two to redeem myself as I made it sound like I was about to march into my Bishop's office and demand the removal of my name from the records of my church, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, that is such an important part of my life. I could never denounce what I believe in. One of the things I absolutely love about the Mormon faith is how unique it is from all other religions on Earth. As an avid reader I've read, studied and taken religion classes in all the books in the Mormon cannon we call scripture: Bible, Book of Mormon, Doctrine & Covenants and Pearl of Great Price. Frustrating as it is searching for just one female character in scripture I can relate to, nevertheless, I could never deny the truthfulness of what's contained in each of those four books. Both the Bible and Book of Mormon serve as guidelines for all who wish to live a life of happiness and joy, even if I often feel like I'm exluded from a good deal of that happiness. Luckily, Calvin brings me great joy.

    Likewise, as someone who spent eighteen months teaching and testifying about Joseph Smith, I could never deny to anyone who asks me that he was indeed visited by heavenly beings and called by God to restore His church. Yes, it does sound fantastic and even absurd, a fourteen year-old boy visited by God the Father and Jesus and testifying to the world that they appeared to him as two seperate, glorified, personages, thus shooting down the entire Nicene Creed, but for Mormons, this is a very important part of what our religion is based on.
   Jesus Christ in the year 30 BC began organizing His church with the Apostle Peter taking over leadership after the Crucifixion and Ascension. When Peter was killed along with the other twelve, many truths were lost and needed to be restored. Who better to delcare it than the resurrected Lord Himself? Thus, Joseph Smith is our man and the Book of Mormon is the nuclear bomb clearing up any doubt over just who this Jesus of Nazereth was and why His life was so important. I'd really like to see the talented folks on Broadway sing and dance about THAT!

     My great great grandmother joined the church in England around the time of the Civil War in America. She immigrated to Utah, had a daughter who begat my Grandmother who begat my Mom. My biological father, Ray Llewellyn, joined the church as a teenager in the 1960's along with his Mother, Stepfather, and Sister. He and Mom met at a church activity and married in the Los Angeles Temple in 1973. He's excommunicated now and all three of his parents died before I knew them but the roots of my religion run deep and it just goes to show it doesn't matter what background you come from, Mormons are regular, normal folks with problems and challenges just like the rest of the world.

   So, being an avid reader, I just finished this book I came across while browsing at the library called "Declaring Spinsterhood" which turned out to be the story of a thirty year old single woman from Texas who lived the kind of life us old maids can only dream about. For starters, she had not one but TWO nice young men (meaning they weren't perverts, video game addicts still living at home or divorced deadbeats) falling all over themselves to win her affections and walk her down the aisle. Meanwhile, Mom and Pastor Dad continue to set her up with MORE nice young men, like, every other day. Where were they finding them? When did Texas suddenly become an Old Maid's Paradise? Nobody slept around and no one ever drank anything stronger than coffee. This book came so close to an LDS romance it was freaky. I didn't like it. Why?
   Um, if I had that many dates a week, I'd be mommy blogging right now. This young woman had no business declaring spinsterhood.
    So, I went to Goodreads, a great site for booklovers like me and left a review. I urge anyone reading this to go check it out. And please read my reviews because just this morning a good friend of mine sent me a text. She'd read my review, had a good laugh and told me I write the funniest reviews. Wow, a fan. Thanks!

    I also have good news to report. My four year old nephew is NOT the closest person I have to a having a man in my life! For the last year a casual acquaintance of mine at work has been dropping hints that he'd like to take me out on a date sometime. I'm flattered and I'd totally accept, he's really fun to be around, but, he's 50 years old and with his long hair, tattoo covered arms and questionable membership in the Mormon faith, he's not exactly the kind of guy you bring home to meet the folks.
   
    Nevertheless, in the last year he's become a good friend. If this relationship goes to the next level I promise I'll report it but for now it's strictly friendship as no dating outside the workplace is the wisest course. We share a love of Seinfeld and music. He makes everyone in our workplace laugh. It's not unusual to find him playing air guitar along to the oldies staion or crooning into a stalk of celery. One morning in February he came up behind me as I was chopping veggies for the cafeteria salad bar and planted a gentle kiss near my elbow wishing me a quiet, "Happy Valentine's Day". I'll admit it, I blushed, because a kiss is a kiss no matter where it lands!

   Then, just last week, he presented me with a U2 T-shirt he'd found at Wal-Mart. Only those who know me best understand just how much a gift like that means to me. That's the nicest thing any man has ever given me in my entire 36 years of life. He doesn't know this of course because, after all,

    A femme fatale doesn't have to tell her causual male aquantaince everything!

A Single Woman's Liberation

     I apologize in advance to any non-Mormon readers as this entry contains several Mormon culture references which I'll try and explain as I go along. I'm in one of my moods tonight and I need to vent. Thank you for your patience.
   
    In 2008, Kristen M. Oaks published A Single Voice, an entire book dedicated to faith and importance of our membership in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints and not necessarily to being single. What a shame, I feel more books need to be written for us single Mormon women on how to deal with loneliness. It seems we've been banned to a life denied the blessings of temple marriage, having a worthy priesthood holder nearby, and devoid of children-for reasons God only knows.

    I'm not excluding other women out there. My rant includes anyone suffering from this loneliness disease. You can be in a lonely marriage (or lonely relationship since cohabitation is the new marriage) or feel isolated while living at home with parents or siblings who don't communicate or whatever and still feel the pain. How do you deal with it, how do you manage it? Sure, you can go see a psychiatrist, but prescription medications are a poor substitute for a relationship with a real human being. It can be really frustrating sometimes, no matter what your religion or lifestyle. I should probably include gay people in my list, not that there's anything wrong with that, but that's a delicate subject for another blog.
  
    Most single Mormons (female especially) attend sabbath day meetings, take the sacrament (communion-partaking of the symbolic flesh and blood of Christ) and serve in callings just like married ones. Callings are part of your service in the Mormon church as we have no paid clergy, everyone volunteers to teach Sunday School and other jobs which are determined by a Bishop.

    Yet underneath it all is a subtle reminder to those of us who don't quite fit in-yet oftimes a secret something whispered, "You're a stranger here". How to deal with that? Remember in school there was the "dumb group" that everyone else patronized, including the teachers? Who didn't do as well academically or socially just because of the label they'd been given? Everyone else breathed a sigh of relief that they were "normal". There was always that unspoken rule that you'd never be caught dead being friends with "those kids". That's how I feel sometimes.

 Anyone who's phased out of their local singles ward into a family ward knows exactly what I'm talking about. (In the Mormon chruch, every city, down to the most obscure village in every country in the world has been divided into wards and branches which all members attend-those married or divorced with kids attend family wards, those 30 and under who haven't had the opportinity yet are encouraged to attend singles wards in hopes you might meet someone to marry and procreate with. If you reach age thirty without having reached this rite of passage you are condemned to observing from the sidelines of a family ward.) For a woman this is especially frustrating as our only important self-identifying  title in the Mormon church is Mother which I'm not belittling, on the contrary, I want it and I want it NOW!
   
    Years ago I gave up trying to follow the advice in books like Sister Oaks and there are times I want to scream "F-you!" to our beloved well-meaning leaders who continue to send these mixed messages to Mormon single adults. Us single women are expected to be chaste and virtuous yet these are not attractive qualities to single Mormon males who say they're waiting for us to make the first move and dress and act more provocatively to show we're interested in them while they don't have to do anything. When was the last time you saw a scantily dressed woman without a date? Yeah, I thought so. When was the last time my modest dress and manner landed me a date? I'm 36 and I'm still waiting!
   Take those articles in the Ensign (a Mormon church magazie) that don't even mention dating or courtship among single members. Instead it pushes us female single members to take the initiative, get out there, make an effort, ask your Bishop to give you a calling and all that crap. Reminded me too much of those dating articles in the New Era (the one for Mormon teens) where the young men whine, "Why can't the girls ask US out on dates? Why are WE always expected to take the traditional route, what if they reject us?" Hey, guys, I'm 36, I can tell you a few things about rejection. This wasn't my choice and I'm sick of being told that as a single woman in the church, I'm the one with the problem. 
   
    In full rebellion, I let my temple recommend expire (it's OK, Mom, I 'm not sleeping with anyone, I still know the church is true, I'm just so TIRED of it all! Why go when I have no one to share the experience with?) I'm still waiting for the lightning to strike. I haven't had a calling in years and I don't plan on asking my current bishop for one either. He seems relieved. He doesn't bother me and I don't bother him. I don't do visiting teaching and I have no idea who mine are but you know what? That's OK, I don't mind, because it's just as uncomfortable for me hearing a message about strengthening marriage, family and home as it is for the sweet Molly Mormon sisters condescending upon the "dumb" single, never married woman who lives alone in her one bedroom apartment. I only attend sacrament meeting (Mormon worship service with talks and sermons presented by fellow members-lay clergy) when I feel like it and suffer no guilt over missing my Relief Society meetings (A Mormon Sabbath meeting is divided into three: men and women meet seperate with children and teens also meeting seperate, Sunday School for adults and kids, everyone attends worship service together).

    So I had this epiphany: if those young men floating adrift in the world can slack off in settling down, getting a college degree and a job and mooch off Mom and Dad or their current girlfriend for the rest of their Peter Pan lives, well, why can't I do the same by slacking off in my own religious duties? If attending church surrounded by eternal families while denied my own is so painful for me, why not skip a Sunday or two? It's not like anyone will miss me. It's not like I have any children or a partner to be setting a good example for.
   
     I will continue to blog about this subject until something earth shattering occurs one of these days in my life giving me a change of heart. In the meantime, Mom wants me to attend the BYU Education Week next month in August. So, I went online for more information about how much a one day pass costs and what kinds of classes I might be interested in attending. What I found only proves my point-are you divorced? They have a class (several actually) for that! Are you the parents of rebellious teenagers, older single adults, have a blended family, or worried about raising righteous children? Yep, they have classes for that too! Are you infertile and can't have kids? There's a class for that. Want to strengthen your marriage? There's a class for that, too.

   On the other hand, want tips on how to survive a Telestial world as a single adult without drowning in the depths of despair and lonliness? Sorry, BYU Education Week does NOT have a class for that. Cost of ticket for one day, $64. Guess what the co-payment for my last filling at the dentist cost me, $64. Sorry, Mom, I think I'd prefer getting my teeth drilled than spending an entire day attending classes and workshops I can't relate to.

    Ah, the joy of a single women's liberation!