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Please follow me to my new site, at www.aneweric.com Or else. Eric

Life is Like a Mop...

A glimpse into an aspect of Old Eric that refuses to die...

I don't know why, but I can't get rid of a childhood joy of mine: Weird Al Yankovic. I really haven't listened to him in years (aside from a song here and there as he's released new tracks), but somehow, I can't forget about him. I can't express how weird my connection with Al is. I'm embarrased to listen to him in public, and yet, I can't force myself to deny him. Tonight, my daughter and I were watching UHF, and I got to thinking about Al. Specifically, UHF has some memorable quotes: Stanley Spadowski: Life is like a mop. Sometimes life gets full of dirt and crud and hairballs and things and you gotta clean it out. You gotta stick it in here and rinse it off and start all over again. And sometimes life sticks to the floor so much that a mop, a mop, it's not good enough. You gotta get down there with like a toothbrush, you know, and you gotta really scrub 'cause you gotta get it off. But if that doesn't work, you can't give up. You gotta stand right up. You gotta run to a window and say, "These floors are dirty as hell, and I'm not gonna take it any more." [On the game show, "Wheel of Fish", Phyllis Weaver has just spun the wheel and landed on a red snapper] Kuni: Ahhh, a red snapper. Mmmmm, very tasty. Okay, Weaver, listen carefully. You can hold on to your red snapper... [Hiro-San emerges, carrying a table with a box] Kuni: ...or you can go for what's in the box that Hiro-San is bringing down the aisle right now! What's it gonna be? [Phyllis Weaver decides between the Red Snapper and the box. The audience points to the box] Phyllis Weaver: I'll take the box. The box! [the audience applauded] Kuni: You took the box? Let's see what's in the box! [Hiro-san opened the box, and the audience gasps in silence] Kuni: Nothing! Absolutely nothing! STUPID! You're so STU-PIIIIIIIIIIID! [George and Teri make up] Teri: Hello, stranger. George Newman: Teri, what are you doing here? I thought you never wanted to see me again. Teri: Whatever gave you that idea? George Newman: Well, my first clue is when you told me you never wanted to see me again. R.J. Fletcher: This community means about as much to me as a festering ball of dog snot. You think I care about the pea-brained yokels of this town? If you took their combined I.Q., and multiplied it by a hundred, you might have enough intelligence to tie your shoe, if you didn't drool all over yourself first. I can't stand those sniveling maggots. They make me want to puke. But, there is one good thing about broadcasting to a town full of mindless sheep. I always know I have them exactly where I want them. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

Thursday, November 31, 2006

I was just browsing through my month's worth of posts, thinking about my NaBloPoMo promise. I screwed up. I totally blogged from my PDA phone on Tuesday night and it never posted. All day long, no post. Oh well. I wasnt' doing it to be perfect. I wasn't doing it for one of the prizes. I did it for me. I did it to prove to myself that I can have days of total clarity. I did it to prove to myself that I can be a writer - and not just the amateur writer I am, I mean a professional writer who does it for a living. Over the last month, my life has changed drastically. I've been inundated with things I never expected, professional changes that never came despite what everyone was telling me, self-realizations that set Old Eric against New Eric, losses, victories, sadness, and joy. I decided to change direction, paddle against the current, not let the water carry me where it wants to go. I let myself slip. I've gone over rapids, and slept through the best scenery while the water was calm. I've made friends, and possibly lost a few. I found some sense of myself. I found a new appreciation for music, and often included lyrics for songs that were stuck in my head or beats that were stuck in my feet. And through it all, I was writing. I was writing on my blog, and writing offline, and writing in my head, and writing in my heart. This month I decided to relaunch parts of my life. Sometimes, I've done well. Other times, not so well. Other things are still in the works. For instance, I decided to move the blog to my own site. I planned on having it ready today. It's not. I'm finding it difficult to decide on what look I want, and how I'm going to (easily) post to the site. I want to avoid Blogger, if I can (case in point, Tuesday). I'd like to spend as little money as possible (free is perfect). But I also want total control over the template, and I want to find the template that not only works for me, but I love. And in it all, I need to design a site for my blind leap into professional writing, which I'm still dragging my feet on simply because I don't have a decent photo I can use for a headshot. Today, I declare the existence of November 31st, 2006. 11/31/06 is a day for me to enjoy one last moment, groan about one last problem, find solace in one last friend, live another second of passion, and suffer one more second of loss. I dedicate November 31st, 2006, to all those who try their hardest to do what they they'll do, fulfill their promises, and try to be whatever it is they wish with all their heart to be - for those who seek to be better than they already are. Here is a copy of the e-mail I sent to my blog, Tuesday night. The one day I needed it to work the most, it didn't. I couldn't be home that night, and couldn't blog from work (security lockout) or from home that morning. The message: -----Original Message----- From: Eric Palmatier [mailto:xxxxxxxxxxxxxx] Sent: Tuesday, November 28, 2006 9:55 AM To: blog Subject: I've been thinking today. Humans are simultaneously singular and social creatures. They are alone, yet rely on human interaction as part of normal life and ultimate survival. Loneliness is an ultimate experience for human, a test of their ability to exist socially while in a solitary mode. At some point, we all crave and loathe loneliness. Such an interesting juxtaposition. Eric -- No virus found in this incoming message. Thank you for reading. All of you, even those I don't know, mean so much to me. Please keep reading. Please link to me from your own sites, you don't need my permission (but it would be great if you sent me an e-mail letting me know, so I can visit YOU). Tell all your friends. Give me the traffic which I use to drive onward, writing for an unseen audience. And above all, have a wonderful November 31st. Eric

Know Your Blogger: Equality Time

Know Your Blogger: Equality Time KYB: How and why did you start blogging? Equality Time: I started my blog in March 2006. I began visiting sites in the Bloggernacle a couple years ago and found myself becoming increasingly disenchanted by and marginalized from that community. In October 2005 I found the New Order Mormon site from a link in a comment on Millennial Star (a TBM blog). I began posting regularly at NOM and at the View from the Foyer. But the reactionary and transitory nature of discussion board communications left me not entirely satisfied, so I started Equality Time. KYB: What do you enjoy about blogging? Dislike about it? Equality Time: Preparing a blog post forces me to focus my thoughts and organize them in a way that posting on Further Light and Knowledge or the NOM board does not. I also enjoy finding new sites to link to on my blog. As a lawyer, I like to build a solid case, carefully compiling evidence to support my viewpoint. My blog is the place where I am building my case for my change in beliefs and attitude toward Mormonism and life in general. I dislike the amount of time required to write a halfway decent post. KYB: What do you read regularly? Equality Time: In terms of blogs, I have about 50 blogs I classify as being in the DAMU or Outer Blogness--I read these regularly plus a smattering of the TBM blogs. In terms of books, I have been reading a lot of science. I just finished an excellent biography of Charles Darwin. I am currently reading Blood of the Prophets by Will Bagley about the Mountain Meadows Massacre. I've been enjoying books by Michael Shermer and Richard Dawkins, and have also read some of Jared Diamond's works. And I never miss an issue of Entertainment Weekly. KYB: What do you like to do when you're not blogging? Equality Time: Spend time with the family: playing football with the kids, going to movies, watching football in High Def; attending plays, musicals, and concerts; working, and sleeping. And sex. That's almost as good as the football in High Def. KYB: Where would you say you are in the process of recovery from Mormonism? Equality Time: Wow. I don't know how to even begin to answer this question. I guess I'm still not sure it is something from which I need recovery. I disagree profoundly with many basic doctrines of the church; even more so, I am deeply critical of many of the LDS church's current policies, procedures, and bureacratic tendencies. That said, I don't see Mormonism as a disease from which I need a cure or recovery. It's an adjustment, to be sure. And a difficult one, no doubt about it. But I think of it as more of a transition than a recovery. KYB: What advice would have you for people trying to deal with leaving the church? Equality Time: First, I would say "go slow." That's the NOM mantra. Don't act rashly. You've been a member for "x" years, a few more months or even years won't kill you. Second, I would say, involve your loved ones early on in the process--build a solid relationship with your spouse (assuming you are married) so that you can hopefully take the journey together. Don't get too far out ahead of your spouse if you can help it. Third, establish clear boundaries with fellow church members as you dissociate from them. Fourth, get help. Find a DAMU message board that is comfortable for you. Converse with those who have been there before you. Establish friendships with people (in real life preferably but also on the Internet)--these will be an invaluable aid in making a break from the church emotionally or physically. KYB: What else do you want to say about your interests, hobbies, career, education, whatever? Equality Time: I've gone on too long already. KYB: Where did you come up with the name of your blog? Equality Time: My DAMU buddy Mayan Elephant suggested it and I liked it. I like the play on words--my moniker is Equality and my blog is my time to speak my mind. It's also about damned time the church starts extending equal treatment to all its members and, for that matter, to all people.

Blue Nude by Pablo Picasso

I think Picasso is one of the most misunderstood artists. Throughout his life, Pablo Picasso was a master in training. He never stopped studying, researching, viewing with different eyes, disassembling and reassembling what he saw - he never stopped learning how to view the universe from different aspects. Of his many periods, he is best known for Cubism, which he developed with his long-time friend, Georges Braque. These are the painting which look like a mess to most people. What they intended to do was to analyze particular aspects of an object or subject. Where an average person sees a distorted, twisted naked person, Picasso was focusing on a particular curve of a woman's back, or the shine of her eye. Imagine taking a painting, and drawing a grid over it. Then imagine focusing in on only one grid square, and painting that. Then finding the next grid square that interested you, and painting that. Putting everything together, you've created a critical view of something so amazingly beautiful, and you can now return to the joy of experiencing those moments of discovery and wonder any time you view the painting. Picasso had longer years outside of Cubism than in. Take the Blue Nude, as seen at the top of this article. So distinctly modern, yet classical in its focus. Picasso can take something beautiful, sensual, possibly sexual, and change the entire focus of the work through his use of color. For a time, he experimented with many colors, and often, his palettes reflected the state of this emotions, or the events surrounding him. I relate to Picasso on so many levels. I am a very analytical person by nature. I've been described as someone who is in a constant state of observation and analysis. I've also been described as an ultimate problem solver, seeing something that can be done better, and doing it. People have called me a creative thinker, someone who has the ability to look at things from multiple angles. However, at the same time, I am weighed heavily by my emotions, my state of being, and my environment. I am bogged down with my own problems in life, and can't seem to break free of such obligations. As a writer, I almost always sit down to write and end up spending hours on something else. When I considered myself artistic, I could either spend hours with my pencil scraping along paper, imaging my mind as it operated, or I could sit there and draw meaningless cartoons with no actual creativity. I often find myself with great enthusiasm for starting a new project, yet fall short of completing it every single time. I relate to Picasso because he was never content with the way the universe moved. He was never content with himself. He could dissolve the most complex moment with his mind, or form the most basic of interpretations within a short period of time. He created thousands of pieces, and kept most of them himself. He had times where he lacked motivation, creativity, aspiration. He had moments of total clarity, focus, and power. Pablito Diego Jose Santiago Francisco de Paula Juan Nepomuceno Crispin Crispiniano de los Remedios Cipriano de la Santisima Trinidad Ruiz Blasco y Picasso Lopez was one of the most amazing analysts of his time. I hope to emulate even 1% of his ability some day, and I expect I could spend the rest of my life trying to decipher exactly what it was he was trying to accomplish.

Have a seat

 

Insanity

I'm so sorry, please forgive me Who do I pray to to straighten out this problem? Straighten out this problem, straighten out my mind. Straighten out this crooked tongue... My mind has wandered, from the straight and narrow. My mind has wandered from the flock you see. My mind has wandered, the man just said so. My mind has wandered, I heard it on TV. And the flock has wandered away from me.

-chorus- All around the world now Like a big bright cherry cloud Traveling from home to home TV sets and telephones Here it comes just like a storm Bathe in it and be reborn Time to let the world know Welcome madness, say hello Like a wave we cannot see Washing over you and me Hiding here and hiding there Madness hiding everywhere Such a curiosity Here it comes to set us free Plenty left for you and me Say hello insanity

I am the virus, are you the cure? I am morally, I'm morally impure I am a disease and I am unclean I am not part of gods well oiled machine Christian nation, assimilate me Take me in your arms and set me free I am part of a degenerate elite Dragging our society into the street Into the abyss and to the sewer don't you see The man just told me, he told me on TV

Do you think you're better than me Do you want to kill me or befriend me

And the alcoholic bastard waved his finger at me His voice was filled with evangelical glee Sipping down his gin and tonics While preaching about the evils of narcotics And the evils of sex, and the wages of sin While he mental fondles his next of kin My mind has wandered from the flock you see And the flock has wandered away from me And he waved his hypnotizing finger at me

Lets imitate reality Lets strive for mediocrity Lets make believe were all the same Lets sanitize our little brains I'd love to take you home with me and tuck you into bed I'd love to see what makes you tick inside your pretty head I'd love to hear you laugh tonight, I'd love to hear you weep I'd love to listen to you while you're screaming in your sleep

Christian sons, Christian daughters Lead me along like a lamb to the slaughter Purify my brain and hose down my soul White perfection, perfection is my goal

Do you think you're better than me Do you want to kill me or befriend me

Christian nation, make us alright Put us through the filter and make us pure and white My mind has wandered from the flock you see And the flock has wandered away from me Lets talk of family values while we sit and watch the slaughter Hypothetical abortions on imaginary daughters The white folks think they're on the top ask any proud white male A million years of evolution, we get Danny Quayle

(chorus)

I'd love to take you home with me, I'd love to tuck you in I wish I could protect you from the wages of our sin I'd love to hear you scream tonight, I'd love to hear you cry Protect you from the madness that is raining from the sky

(chorus)

I'd love to take you home with me and tuck you into bed I'd love to see what makes you tick inside your pretty head I wish that I could keep you in a precious Chinese box On Sundays I would pray for you so it would never stop I'd love to hear you laugh tonight, Id love to hear you weep I'd love to listen to you while you're screaming in your sleep I'd love to soothe you with my voice and take your hand in mine I'd love to take you past the stars and out of reach of time I'd love to see inside your mind, to tear it all apart To cut you open with a knife and find your sacred heart I'd love to take your satin dolls and tear them all to shreds I'd love to mess your pretty hair, Id love to see you dead.

- Oingo Boingo

Fun with cameras: Fence

Disabled in my Humanity

I feel so disabled in my humanity. We're all capable of such amazing things, yet fail miserably to make anything of ourselves. We can be anything, do anything, and yet, we all seem to have an aspect of our personalities which limit our potential. I can analyze my past to the point of disolving old, long-held deficiencies in my own self-esteem, and I can deal with many things as they happen, but I can't find the power to change the future and be everything I want to be in this world. I just can't connect with the future like others can. I have the best intentions, but a very poor ability to accomplish my own goals. This month has been a difficult one. I've had a lot of things going on personally and professionally. Blogging each and every day, for NaBloPoMo, has not been easy. I've had some pretty insufficient posts. But I've posted every day. I set a goal, I made a promise, and I've made the effort every day to accomplish that goal. I see that following through on your own intentions is possible. So now I need to focus on my life, the same way I've focused on my blog. It's time to work on the future. Somehow. Now.

Beauty in all things?

A recent conversation sent my mind on one of its usual thought processes: what is beauty? There seem to be many theories on exactly what beauty is. For some, it’s internal, for others, external. Each of us are attracted to different things, find beauty in different ways, and so beauty means different things to each of us. And yet, somehow, we try our society tries its hardest to create a standard for beauty. Often, we fail to see the beauty within. I fall into this category. I see myself differently from how others see me, regardless of what they see. Often, because I am so convinced in my own ugliness, I cannot hear others when they point out the beauty they see within me. Unfortunately, it is my self-image that maintains my poor self-image. I think most of us have these moments of self-consciousness, and some of us are more extreme than others. It was a comment along these lines that prompted me to think about what I see in someone that the other person does not. For me, despite all the classic standards for beauty, or the media-influenced standards of beauty, or instinctual basic attractions, I can find beauty in all things. Where someone might be self-conscious about their looks, I might find their looks extremely attractive. OK, so maybe I think someone is hot as hell! I can spend hours pointing out the different ways a person can be so attractive to me, body and mind, and the other person may only connect with a couple of my points. Aside from people, I see beauty in many things such as rain, mountains, naturally occurring patterns (hell, even tree bark has its fascinations). It amazes me how people think, how animals act, how plants exist in a state of constant sensory perception yet, at the same time, do not. I can think about nothing but the beauty of something for a whole hour, and go back to my real world and know that there’s something to be found in everything. So why is it I can’t see that in myself? Why can’t others see that within themselves? Why can’t a woman see the amazing beauty in their every fiber, yet I can? Why can’t I see that in myself? It’s all so confusing to me, how nearly everything around me can excite my senses, with the only exception being the body and mind I happen to reside in. So in this sense, I wonder if beauty is nothing more than a desire to be something we feel we are not. That doesn’t mean we are the ugliest thing on the planet. I mean, we seem to strive for a sense of the beauty within that we so easily perceive in everything else. Beauty is the goal, and everything physically and mentally attractive is just a manifestation of our desire to attain that goal. In all, we envy everything except ourselves. And among even the best of us, who can really avoid the strong sense of self-imperfection?

Coddleston Pie

Coddleston, coddleston, coddleston pie.
A fly cant bird, but a bird can fly.
Ask me a riddle, and I reply
Coddleston, coddleston, coddleston pie.

Coddleston, coddleston, coddleston pie.
A fish cant whistle and neither can I.
Ask me a riddle, and I reply
Coddleston, coddleston, coddleston pie.

Coddleston, coddleston, coddleston pie.
Why does chicken? I dont know why.
Ask me a riddle, and I reply
Coddleston, coddleston, coddleston pie.

- from The Tao of Pooh (Winnie the Pooh) (A.A. Milne)

Black Friday

For those of you curious about the history of Black Friday, you won't be hearing it from me. That's because no single explanation or history of Black Friday, as in the day after Thanksgiving, also known as the "biggest shopping day of the holiday season," can be given. No one is quite sure who started it, but all people, from retailers to shoppers, agree that whoever it was who came up with the idea should be shot. There is some debate on exactly where the term "Black Friday" came from. Some speculate that its when retailers finally move into the black. Or it's because of the extreme stress people come under to participate. In the last several years, retailers have opened just a little bit earlier than normal on Black Friday, offering hot deals to get people to come buy in their store. Many have reached 5 AM at this point, but this year marks a noticeable increase in stores and malls opening at midnight between Thanksgiving and Black Friday. Soon, we will be eating turkey on Thursday while Dad and the boys get to punch and kick for a TV that's $100 cheaper than normal. Please hope that it doesn't come to us getting in line at Circuit City after we're done begging for candy on Halloween. Interestingly, many people still don't realize that retailers generally use a voucher system these days, so whoever is standing in line first gets the big deals. Often, there are very limited numbers on "doorbuster" items. Retailers must like the fact that people don't know about the vouchers too much because they stand in line for an hour (or three) to buy a DVD, grabbing extras along the way to justify standing in line for all that time. Black Friday is one of the most curious of modern phenomenon. And each year, we buy into it. The $600 discount on a plasma TV, or the $3 memory card for your camera, keep us coming. For some, the thrill of being on the few to succeed in the retail game is enough. For others, they just can't resist that paper shredder for $1. Whatever it is, most of us get suckered into it. Maybe the origin of the term "Black Friday" really comes from the black hole of common sense we all fall in while participating in Black Friday. Or it's the place where all your hard-earned money ends up. Who knows... Eric

Wish

This is the first day of my last days I built it up now I take it Apart climbed up real high Now fall down real far No need for me to stay the last thing left I just threw it away I put my faith in god and my trust in you Now there's nothing more fucked up I could do

Wish there was something real wish there was something true Wish there was something real in this world full of you

I'm the one without a soul I'm the one with this big fucking hole No new tale to tell twenty-six years on my way to hell Gotta listen to your big time hard line bad luck fist fuck Don't think you're having all the fun You know me I hate everyone

Wish there was something real wish there was something true Wish there was something real in this world full of you

I want to but I can't turn back But I want to

- Nine Inch Nails

Happy Black Friday! :)

Thanksgiving

For those curious about the history of Thanksgiving, you won't be reading about it from me. I realize that those of you who know me personally would expect me to write about the history of Thanksgiving. Sorry. I suggest you read all about it on Wikipedia.

Today I'm going to tell you about what Thanksgiving means to me.

To me, Thanksgiving isn't so much about being grateful for the things I have. Its also about enjoying the things you are grateful for. Its about being with family AND friends. It's about forgetting about work for once. It's enjoying those around you. It's about eating like you shouldn't, if you can, and falling into a chemical coma afterward. It's about laughter, tears, joy, and sorrow. It's about missing those who are gone, and those who couldn't be near, and enjoying those who could be with you. In all, I see Thanksgiving as a day less about gratitude and more about appreciation. It's about enjoying what you have with those around you.

I have many complications in my life right now. It's not easy for me, going into the holidays this year. But despite all the things that seem to have gone arise, there are so many things TO be grateful for, and many positive moments ahead of me to find solace in.

To you, and your families and friends, and all others out there, I sincerely hope you had a good Thanksgiving.

Eric

P.S. Our Internet is out, sorry for the typos. I'm on my PDA cell.

Update: Cat Incident

La and I spoke to our daughter this morning about Abby, and she's not too phased by it. She got a faraway look on her face as she listened to her mother. I guess she'll just deal with it in her own way. In wonderful childhood fashion, the neighbor kids relayed to our daughter how they saw the cat on the road, and how it looked, complete with gory details. Lovely.

An ode to a cat (and a day that parents dread)

Wednesday will be a day that I wish I could skip. Tonight, as I returned home, I found our oldest pet, our cat, Abby, dead in the street. It looked like she got hit by a car while crossing the street, walking toward our house. At first, I thought it was one of our other cats, Grace. I didn't get too close to look when I pulled over to check. Grace can look about the same in the dark, plus somehow it would make more sense that Grace would be hit by a car than Abby. You'd have to know the cats to know what I mean. So I proceeded to dig a large hole in the back yard. This incident wasn't the kind of thing you let kids see, nor was I going to leave her out in the street overnight. While in the back yard, Grace popped out of nowhere, in what I would describe as a panic for her (which is saying a lot, since she panics when you look at her). At first, I was relieved. Then, I was not. Abby. The cat we got when our daughter was a young toddler. The cat that missionaries used to torment. The cat that had nasty worms when we got her, and the same cat that would hump shoes before we got her fixed. The cat that our daughter has known since as far back as she can remember. I went and checked, and it was her. She was barely gone. It must have happened only minutes before I came home. I buried her in the hole. While I was there handling the burial our third cat, Boo, sat ominously on a large transformer near the area. Boo is a peculiar cat, a Bombay cat with jet black fur and eerie eyes. Somehow, I know the cats, and even the dog, knew. They were all spooked, except for Boo, who was there as if for support. As I finished up, I thought about Abby in silence. We got her from my cousin. They had a litter of cats at their place, and we were suckers. I always thought that Abby was close to abnoxious, a play on obnoxious. She's been a little poo since we got her. Abby was the queen of the house. She didn't take well to Grace when we got her, and definitely didn't like Boo. She tolerated the dogs we've had, with the occasional scrap. Abby used to rub up against men's dress shoes when she was in heat before we got her fixed. The missionaries would tie a short piece of rope to the ceiling fan and let her try to catch it. She got it a couple times, only to get flung across the room. We'd waste countless hours watching her try to catch the red dot from a laser pointer. These last few years, she's been constantly ticking us off. She'd jump up on us, and get in our personal space. After pushing her away, she'd come back a few seconds later, and we'd repeat the cycle over and over again many times. She was stubborn as hell. She would catch small toys, stuffed animals, and gloves during the night and meow over and over again until she gave up or we gave in and acknowledged her gift. She'd sit on the edge of the tub, either enjoying the space between the shower curtains, or watching someone take a bath. You could get her worked up and ready to fight simply by placing your hand near her head. Abby was always present in your space, and would rarely be away for long. Lately, she's been thin from not getting enough food. I found her competing with the other cats and a coupe neighbor dogs who would steal their food. In fact, tonight was the first night I fed all three cats in the back yard with separate bowls, ensuring each got something to eat. In all, Abby was a good cat. Sure, she made us mad at times, and would defend herself when our son gets rough with her, but we didn't have many real problems with her - just annoyances. Today, we get to break the news to our daughter. She'll notice the cat is missing anyway, and La and I think its best that she knows. When I was a little older than her, my cat Fizzgig got run over. I remember what that was like. In retrospect, I only remember the fond times with Fizzgig. He was a bit of a butt, too. But I think our daughter will handle it decently. Even still, I hate to break this news to her. I don't look forward to La and I having to approach this tomorrow. La is already upset by this, and I'm angry. As an adult, I know this is inevitable. I've had many pets die in my lifetime. So has our daughter, when her hamster died well over a year ago. But pets are part of the family, especially cats and dogs, and losing a member of the family is NEVER easy. I wish I could skip it, but feel it must be done. Poor little girl, having to know that she'll never see her kitty again. I'm sorry for what happened to you, Abby. That's an unfair way to die. We will always remember and miss you. Goodbye, girl.

How do I love thee, obsession?

I'm sitting here, on my day off, eating lunch, and thinking about life. I've decided I have confession to make. I've had a 20-year obsessive relationship with a can of nacho cheese. I've briefly mentioned this love of mine in a previous post. I was trying not to make a big deal out of something that IS a big deal. Just thinking of this post makes me cringe. Sometime in the mid '80s, while I was still a New Yorker, I started eating a very specific brand of nacho cheese made by El Rio Food Products of Bloomfield, NJ: the aptly named El Rio Mexican Foods Nacho Cheese Sauce. Initially, we only knew of two varieties: mild and regular. However, the spicy indicator on the side of the can seemed to indicate a third, undiscovered variety known only as "hot," which we were able to unearth a few years later. Initially, I was a regular kind of guy, but once I allowed the hot to enter my mouth, it's been hard to accept nothing less ever since. I never accepted any other brand from that point on. Nothing was like this. Either the cheese was too soupy, too cheddar, or two viscous. This cheese was just right. I believe it is because the ingredients are different than regular nacho cheeses. The main cheese in this is cream cheese, followed by cheddar, and then bleu cheese. All mixed up in a stout, frothy mixture of sugars, corn starch, whey, milks, and other ingredients. Most other cheese imitators are made with the same stuff they put in velveeta foodstuff. El Rio has made changes to their cheese over the years. Originally, there were decent chunks of jalepeno in the mixture. Now they are mostly non-existent. The can label was updated and modernized in the mid-90's. You don't see regular much anymore. Worst of all, their distribution system has gone down the toilet. In the 80s, we could find El Rio in any New York ShopRite every time. In North Carolina, we saw the distribution system begin to fail when only one store, Krogers, would carry a few cans. In time, they stopped carrying it completely. My supply went from excellent, to decent, no non-existent within years. We started having relatives cart a few cans down from New York when they visited, or we would pick up a handful while we were in NY ourselves. Sometimes, we had a couple cans shipped down to us. It was THAT serious. The cans used to cost $1.49, then $1.69, then $1.99. Then you could find them for $2.49 a can, and the latest was $2.99 a can. For me it was worth it. I was picky about chips for a long time. For whatever reason, I find the thicker, yellow cord tortilla rounds are my favorite. I've been known to have a taste for white corn at times. I've preferred round for years, but often settle for triangle-shaped chips. I always enjoy nachos with a cold drink. As a kid, it was Five Alive (see that same previous post) or orange juice. Then it was Sunkist soda. The last few years, I preferred very cold milk. This year, as I've reunited with alcohol, I find the fruity girly-beers taste best. Today, I finished a half-bottle of Mountain Dew and a small cup of egg nog (which is a whole blog post or two in itself) with my nachos. When I began suffering from puberty, and my face became one big zit, my aunt would tell me I had bad zits because I ate that nasty nacho cheese. My affair with El Rio has had many interesting days! When I left North Carolina for Utah, I was sure that El Rio Nacho Cheese Sauce would become a once a year type of enjoyment (usually around Christmas). Then, while my parents were visiting one time, they found a supply here IN TOWN, in Macy's grocery store! HERE IN OREM! HOLY SHIT! I could buy a can or two at a time! I was back in heaven! Then, six months ago, I went to Macy's to go get a can... and they didn't carry it any more. WHAT THE HELL IS THAT ALL ABOUT?!?! So I was back to having cans shipped in. Then, the other night, I stopped at Macy's to buy a few things, knowing they tend to sell their beers cheaper to draw more non-Mormon customers to their store (you think I'm kidding?). I walk by the Spaghetti-O's and Goya crap, and sitting there like a diamond in the rough are ALL THREE VARIETIES OF EL RIO NACHO CHEESE SAUCE! I COULD HARDLY CONTAIN MYSELF. So, as I type this, I've finished a small bowl of El Rio nacho cheese. I recently began enjoying Hormel No-Bean chili, and today, had a buffet of deliciously fatty foods. Tonight, I'll have to go for a run to work it all off. El Rio Nacho Cheese Sauce, you have my stomach (sorry, the heart belongs to Sunkist Fruit Gems).

Know Your Blogger: Ramblings of a Mattman

Sorry I was late on a profile this week. Life gets more hectic as the holidays approach... Know Your Blogger: Ramblings of a Mattman KYB: How and why did you start blogging? Mattman: Not sure what you mean by how. I just went to blogger.com and signed up. I previously had a myspace site, with a blog, but that was a little too public to accomplish the blogging I really wanted to do. Which brings us to the why. The short answer was that I developed a bit of blog envy from reading JLO's blog. Not the typical envy though. JLO's blog is great and I love reading it. But the envy was a little different than simply wishing I could write as well, even though there is a bit of that. I saw him as having a relatively private outlet to just say what was on his mind and not care if anyone saw it. I began to imagine how therapeutic that must feel, and thus my envy was born. Even after the initial envy, it still took me a while to build up the nerve to just go ahead and start a blog and not care if it was "discovered" (by my wife) or not (to my knowledge, it hasn't been discovered yet, so let's keep it that way). I figured what the hell, if someone else can relate and appreciates the virtual relating, that's great. If no one reads it, that's fine too. If the wife finds it, well, so what -- we all need an outlet. So I guess that sums it up -- I wanted an outlet, something a little bit more than yahoo groups, individual chats (with La, Eric, Craig, other sympathetic close friends & family, etc). KYB: What do you enjoy about blogging? Dislike about it? Mattman: I enjoy being able to just use it as a release. I was never a very good journal keeper, even as a morg. But throwing technology, a keyboard, and some inter-connectedness with others having similar experiences, well that seems to help a lot. For one thing, I can type a hell of a lot faster than I can write by hand. Misery really does love company, so I enjoy commiserating with others in similar predicaments. In similar fashion, celebration of happy moments goes better with a friend, whether true friend, true virtual friend, or just virtual acquaintance. I'd be lying if I didn't mention that I enjoy getting validation sometimes of my feelings. But mostly it's just having an outlet to express what I'm really thinking, instead of holding it in and letting it eat at me, which is in my nature to do. I'm not sure there's a whole lot that I dislike about it. I've always had trouble with wanting to start writing. Homework assignments, journal, blog, whatever. I seemed to always get very good grades on homework writing assignments. And I've had many tell me that they thought my writing was pretty good. I don't consider it very good myself, but to each his own, I suppose. If it is good, then I guess I'm capable of producing decent output -- it's just getting started that is difficult for me. Sometimes I'm bursting to get something out, but most of the time I have to work myself into it before it really starts flowing. I guess a large part of it is because I often get into a zone when I'm writing. I can really get myself into it where I'm totally focused and nearly oblivious to anything around me. But that isn't easy, and it can be very draining. I guess anything worthwhile requires significant effort, eh? So my biggest dislike is really just getting over the hump to start writing to work myself into the zone so I put out something worthwhile, and the subsequent time and energy it eats up when I do. My other dislikes are simply of a technical/functional nature. I wish blogger.com had a mechanism where you could "subscribe" to the comment section on another person's blog. You know, like if you leave a comment on someone's blog and you want to see if there are follow-up comments to your comment. I really hate it that you can't do that. I follow too many blogs and often forget which ones I commented on. :( Or, since I'm into using an ATOM/RSS feed reading, if blogger would post comment updates as a "feed" update event, that would help a little. KYB: What do you read regularly? Mattman: Not sure what the scope of this question is, so I'll just go with whatever. My online reading includes a few yahoo groups: exmormon, exmormon-atheists, and one other that I cannot reveal the name of. The secret group is geared toward exmos who are dealing with the circumstances that come with being married to or otherwise closely attached to people that are still TBMs. I try to regularly drop by exmo-social.com to see what's going on. And once in a great while I'll skim the latest thread subjects on RfM. I don't frequent RfM much anymore because I just don't feel a whole lot of connection there anymore. For offline reading, it varies widely. In the non-fiction realm, I like Michael Shermer's work (only read "Why People Believe Weird Things" so far), Carl Sagan ("Demon Haunted World"). For fiction, I like sci-fi or well, I don't really know what the criteria are for my liking a book. Right now I'm re-reading the classic "Ox-Bow Incident" -- that certainly isn't sci-fi, it's more of a western, but it's an engaging storyline and makes an excellent point. I like Carl's Sagan's "Contact", both the book and the movie. I'm really glad I saw the movie before I read the book. Generally, for me, the book is always better, so it works best if I see the movie first, then read the book later -- that way I'm not disappointed with the movie. I really enjoy reading a good book just before bedtime. Unfortunately, my online reading time has really encroached into my physical reading time lately, so I want to find a way to correct that. As far as blogs, that list has grown steadily over time. I think I'm probably about at my limit right now. I've been thinking of going no-mail on the yahoo exmormon group so I can cover more blog territory, but so far I've just been skimming/skipping more of it rather than go no-mail. I hate to divulge whose blogs are in my ATOM/RSS reader feed list because someone always feels left out. I'll go ahead and list them, but if your blog is not on this list, please don't take it personally. It's just that I can't read them all, and the ones that ARE on my list just happen to be ones that I felt some kind of connection with and ran across before yours. This list is in simple alpha order by blog title (all of these can be seen on my blog page): A New Eric; Amy's Ramblings; Arizona Expositor; Blog Happens; Ishmael, the Wild Ass; Joseph's Left One; La's Self-Discovery Blog; Letters from a broad; Life in the Fast Lane; Montgomery Q - The Saga; Sideon's Sanctuary; Simeon's Peep Stone; Thoughts by Sister Mary Lisa. KYB: What do you like to do when you're not blogging? Mattman: I spend a lot of time on the computer. I like looking for ways to save myself time and effort by setting up nifty gadgetry on my linux system. I recently had a hard drive crash where I spent a lot of time rebuilding, so I'm reading up on how to set up LVM on RAID, for example. For the uninitiated, basically that means I now have two hard drives that I'm going to set up as a "mirror" set where anything done to one will happen to the other. In the event of a failure, I simply unplug the failed one and go get a replacement, but the system keeps running on the remaining good drive. Yeah, I'm a nerd, so what. I love to sail, but I haven't done that lately. The reasons are partly financial, but also partly a result of diving through various stages of funk from my current life situation. I like playing with my kids. It really gets fun as they grow into ages where they can really start doing some serious play with sports or what-not, though I was definitely non-sporty as a kid. I used to like going for motorcycle rides, but I find I'm torn on that one. Being somewhat of an environmentalist, and a victim of skyrocketing gas prices, I have trouble justifying to myself motorcycle joy rides. So the motorcycle is just my main commuter vehicle now, and the joy rides are few and far between. I do like taking the kids out for a ride every now and then (as do they). I like watching movies. All types. TV, eh, not so much. I try to limit myself to getting hooked on only 1-2 shows. Currently that's "Lost" and maybe "Jericho". I do catch King of the Hill and Simpsons around dinnertime sometimes, but not religiously. Oh, and I do like to run, although I've really fallen off the wagon with that. KYB: Where would you say you are in the process of recovery from Mormonism? Mattman: This is a tough one. I think I'm pretty far down the recovery path, just by where I feel driven to visit in my online presence. Like the comment I made earlier about RfM -- it just doesn't hold much appeal to me anymore. If I weren't still married to the morg, in a manner of speaking, I think I'd be nearly completely recovered. I guess mostly I just feel apathy toward mormonism. If it weren't shoved in my face all the time at home, the apathy would be complete. Ultimately, I think my marriage is going to be a casualty of mormonism, but my TBM wife is in denial. I've posted several blog entries about this and have received a lot of support from folks. I know many get impatient with me and can't understand why I'm still in the position that I write about. It's so much easier to see things when you're on the outside looking in. Then again, there are things you don't see. I'm just a very cautious person who thinks, thinks, and over thinks before acting on something that is going to affect a lot of people's lives who I care about. Maybe in the end, it would have been better for me to take the band-aid approach to ending the doomed marriage -- hard to say at this point. I kind of went through a strange course on leaving mormonism. I actually left twice. First time I did it very quickly (within a few months), even sent the letter. But I caved under pressure and relented during the waiting period on the letter and went back, in ostrich mode, for more punishment. Looking back, I think that was a mistake, and cost me an extra 5 years of misery in my life, but at the same time, I can look back and see how I wasn't ready and that I went too fast. The second time I found the groove that works for me, thus I feel I've progressed a long way in my recovery than I otherwise would have had I tried to push myself too quickly again. KYB: What advice would have you for people trying to deal with leaving the church? Mattman: Advice is cheap, and there's plenty of cheap advice out there. As I mentioned before, I ended up having to leave twice. Part of the reason for that is I ignored some good advice that I got the first time, which was to give myself some time to let my knowledge and my emotions sync up. I got too impatient and let my intellect go way beyond where I was emotionally, and that backfired on me. So I guess I would just repeat the same advice -- take your time. Allow your heart and your mind time to get in sync, to a point where you can really internalize and fully understand, in your own words, why it is that you feel the church isn't "true", is a fraud, whatever. Study up on logic fallacies -- that will serve you better than any other reading you could do in the early stages of disillusionment. You will need this because as you study, you will certainly want to visit places like FARMS or FAIR, and if you don't understand logic fallacies, you won't see that those places pretty much offer nothing but logic fallacies. A few other more subtle points -- there's no such thing as the "one true church" in terms of an organization. Personally, I ended up progressing away from any kind of theism at all. That scares many people, especially when first leaving the church. You don't have to question that far at first, or at all, if you don't want to. All you need to do is give yourself permission to question, permission to not have all the answers, and permission to have freedom from religion (as least in terms of organized religion) for a brief (or long) period of time as you sort through your own thoughts and feelings on the matter. It's ok to be your own church for a while, if it helps to look at it that way. I guess all of my advice boils down to a theme of giving yourself permission to be you. It's ok to have thoughts, any thoughts. It's ok to have feelings, any feelings. The whole "sinful thought" thing is one of the most damaging ideologies in any religion, I think, at least on an individual level. Anger is a valid emotion, it's ok to feel that. The golden rule is bullshit if what you would want done to you is not what someone else would want done to them -- adjust accordingly. It's ok to look out for yourself. It's ok to withdraw and regroup while you figure things out for yourself. You are not responsible for other people's feelings about your choice to leave the church. So much good advice, much of it doesn't really sink in until you've gone a little ways down the recovery path. Just trust yourself. You will make mistakes. It's ok to make mistakes. KYB: What else do you want to say about your interests, hobbies, career, education, whatever? Mattman: Many don't know that I actually have never completed my Bachelor's degree in computer science. I still want to, and I do put forth some effort every couple years. It's just hard. I'm probably far enough along in my career experience that it doesn't matter much, career-wise. But I would like to finish, for me. It's really hard to do once you get married and have kids. If I knew then what I know now... sigh. I really enjoy my career in the computer software field. Oh, sure, sometimes it can get very frustrating, and there's a lot of injustice there like everywhere else, but I do like the work at least on some level. I do programming, database stuff (SQL), server administration, etc. When asked, I usually just tell people that I do the work of an "IT handyman" because the things I do can vary widely. I like the creative aspects of my work where, for example, I get to create a program that has a life of its own to solve a problem or perform work that can free a person to pursue less mundane tasks. I really enjoy finding ways to automate "donkey work" tasks. As for the rest of my life, well, I guess I just kind of feel stuck, or on hold right now. I don't feel that I've really scratched the surface of who I am since shedding the shackles of mormonism. Though I was an adult convert (21), so a lot of who I am was already formed, and some of that has returned since leaving. I feel stuck, in many ways, in my marriage. Yet logically I know that that shouldn't hold me back, that I am free to move on and be me and discover who "me" is. It's just hard, really hard. Especially when you're dealing with a mild to moderately abusive partner who finds a way to inflict emotional pain any time you start to let your authentic self out to play and it goes against the morg worldview. And yes, I realize this works both ways where I probably inflict emotional pain as well as I do things that go against her worldview. I've brought this up many times and asked that we just peacefully go our separate ways, but she seems determined to do things the hard way, so here we are -- stuck. Not many people know that I used to have a dream of living aboard a sailboat. I started pursuing that, in a small way, by taking a few sailing classes (which I'd like to continue), but I sort of reigned back on the dream as impractical with 3 young children. Maybe someday. In the meantime, I really do love sailing and would like to continue with the training and practice, as much as financial resources would allow, that is. It's a shame it's so expensive. :( There will probably be a million important things I'll realize I forgot to say in this interview instead of the drivel I've rambled on about, after I hit the send button, but that's just how it works, right? KYB: Where did you come up with the name of your blog? Mattman: Well, my blog address, ramblings of a mattman, should probably really be the name of my blog. At the time I wanted to vent about my raw feelings of the aftermath of my leaving the morg. So "my uncensored exmo blog" was born. It was originally going to be a place to just rant. Once I started it, though, I began to realize I was a little more recovered than I thought. At least from mormonism itself. Turns out that most of my exmo issues are simply because of a bad marriage at this point. Maybe not so much "bad", just major mismatch and simply not "good" in terms of something that I think will survive. I've been wanting to go ahead and change the name of my blog to "Ramblings of a MattMan" just like its web address. In fact, I think I'll go ahead and do that. I do tend to ramble (as you can tell from this interview), and many years ago I got tagged with the moniker MattMan by a coworker, as a wordplay on Batman, and it's stuck ever since, so Ramblings of a MattMan it is. :)

The Mustard Seed of Doubt

I haven’t spoken about the LDS church in some time. Mostly, I’m glad that the church is one of the least of my problems these days. But today, I saw something that made my thoughts wander. I was in the kitchen this morning and noticed a spice rack that we’ve had for many years, but never really use. The spices are mostly of the whole variety, and not crushed into powder. They’re probably all stale by now, as we always preferred to use the pre-processed and powdered spices from the grocery store. One of the spices visible in the rack at this moment is labeled ‘mustard.’ Mustard seed is often used as a comparison to faith in the Mormon church. In essence, if we had faith as big as a mustard seed, we could move mountains at will. A mustard seed is a tiny thing. I always found it odd that the church would go around telling you how imperfect you are by comparing your efforts to a tiny seed. I see the mustard seed differently. I compare it to doubt, and specifically, doubt in the truthfulness of the church. You see, the church expects a very black and white picture of truth. For instance, other churches have some aspects of the truth, but they are still not the one true church. In other words, adding truth with falseness only produces falseness – like anything times zero is still zero. If I have a mustard seed of doubt, I am obviously completely doubtful, right? Isn’t that how the church keeps things in line? But what if that were applied to the church? I one applied the mustard seed of doubt to the whole priesthood and dark skin fiasco, even though it was well after black men were allowed to hold the priesthood. I learned that there was a black man in Joseph Smith’s time that had been given the priesthood, which was inconsistent with church teachings – even more so, the Lord’s will! If a black man can have the priesthood in the 1830s but blacks can’t have the priesthood until Abel’s descendents have the chance to obtain the priesthood (or the 1970s), which is the truth? The mustard seed of doubt rolls in, making you wonder if the church is true. If the church has a seed of doubt, it must be false! While this is a gross generalization, I think it holds merit. Doubt is a powerful thing, and can be a dangerous thing, but it’s often a sign of other things that we cannot see. If the church has several dozen mustard seeds of doubt, it’s logical to assume the church falls into the same category as others – it has some truth, but because of its false aspects, is completely false. The LDS church is false! If you can, go find a mustard seed, and look at it a while. Look within yourself and see if you can’t find that same mustard seed of doubt within yourself. Once you find it, it would be extremely hard to go back. I know it was the same for me.

The pretend author

Today I had a bad day. One of the worst of my life. What makes it bad is I'm in a low mood for no apparent reason, and because of everything and nothing all at once. Someone suggested I write my novel a bit. In thinking about it, I can't find the strength to write it. If I think about it, I think about giving up. I think I'll go sleep. A long, sweet sleep. I need it. əric

The Sugar Beet book signing

Sorry for the messed up post on this. Last night, I showed up (last minute) to a book signing for The Mormon Tabernacle Enquirer, a book with which I had limited influence. In fact, my only contribution to it was a poem called Ode to Me, the Ward Clerk on the next to last page. That wasn't all I did in my time with the Sugar Beet, but that's all that made it into the book. It's a very humorous look into much of the culture without going over the line. There are, however, those who know evil when they see it... Included are some pictures I took while at the book signing. Eric

Crazy Sugar Beeters 

Books for free - autographs for sale. 

MontgomeryQ at book signing. 

Old Eric: I hate my life

Sugar Beet

The Sugar Beet Author signing extravaganza at Borders in Orem! More pictures to follow...

Something I Can Never Have

I still recall the taste of your tears Echoing your voice just like the ringing in my ears My favorite dreams of you still wash ashore Scraping through my head 'till I don't want to sleep Anymore You make this all go away You make this all go away I'm down to just one thing And i'm starting to scare myself You make this all go away You make this all go way I just want something I just want something I can never have You always were the one to show me how Back then I couldn't do the things that I can do now This thing is slowly taking me apart Gray would be the colour if I had a heart Come on, tell me You make this all go away You make this all go away I'm down to just one thing And I'm starting to scare myself You make this all go away You make this all go away I just want something I just want something I can never have In this place it seems like such a shame Though it all looks different now I know it's still the same Everywhere I look you're all I see Just a fading fucking reminder of who I used to be Come on, tell me! You make this all go away You make this all go away I'm down to just one thing And i'm starting to scare myself You make this all go away You make it all go way I just want something I just want something I can never have I just want something I can never have - Trent Reznor (Nine Inch Nails)

Tales from an Orange Notebook: ROBEASTS

The very first thing in my orange notebook is one of the earliest (these things were not done in order, of course). The only problem is, I can't figure out when I drew these. Despite this, I'm almost certain it was inspired by the Master of the Universe series, which places it in New York, around the mid-80s. (Plus my spelling is good, but not great) Behold, ROBEASTS. I had two classifications: MINGS (bad) and LI-ONS (good). Of the ROBEAST MINGS I had created: MOB (a blubbery monster with teeth on four sides of his mouth, and a huge blade for a hand) ROMAN (a Frankenstein-inspired half-man half-robot, and a pretty one at that) CATMAN (like ROMAN except with a cat, and the man part of this one has a unicorn horn) BIGBRAINS (not sure why, but this muscly thing has a sharp cone head and high-heels) TWOBAD (an obvious knock-off of the MotU Two Bad character, except I gave mine four arms & four legs! So there!) SPY: ROSPY (a robot with 6 eyes on long tubes, four arms with weapons, and three legs - I think it was a spy) GENERAL SLUDGE (a sludgy dude with no eyeballs and a screw-horn on his head. Really.) SLUDGE'S DOG (his dog, wearing some weird roller-skates and rocket booster combination) BLADE (yadda yadda, has a big knife, blah, blah) Of the ROBEAST LI-ONS I pulled out of my... (this is an insight into my geekness): SPY: PANDON (another robot. Is this the evil one, cause I'm not seeing the nastiness in it) DRUMER (who had a pencil foot, and two faces coming out of the same head, not sure why the hell I named him Drumer. I was a kid.) ERASERMATE (yeah, stupid product placement. This guy was made up of erasers, crayons, pencils, pens, and sure idiocy) ROYBOT (another half-man named Roy, half- robot named Bot, who looks like he had a medical condition that makes his chest all puffy) CHANGABLE: R.O.N.I.T. (this looks like five dudes (with numbers and hearts on their shirts) with freaky heads who link up to make another, bigger dude with an even freakier head. The messed up part is the main guy melds his feet with #4 and #5's, and sticks his hands in #2 and #3 where people generally don't insert hands, at least not to... well... you know) So somehow I went from Masters of the Universe to Transformers. What the hell was I thinking? Grayskull wasn't on Cybertron? IDIOT!

Holy Month Hump! A NaBloPoMo update

Yesterday / today is halfway through the NaBloPoMo month! I'm half way there!

Posting every day isn't as easy as it should be, buit it's still not as hard as it might have been. Mostly, I've only had trouble coming up with something to say. But it has also given me a few ideas, inspired me to move to my own blog site, and inspired me to start writing a novel. I mean, come on! I actually have an IDEA for once!

Way to go NaBloPoMo...

Eric

Tales from an Orange Notebook: Danger Dash

As luck would have it, I was the first kid in my neighborhood to have a computer parents both worked for IBM, and we were able to in the 80's. My parents were able to purchase an IBM PC Portable, an awlful, heavy predecessor to the IBM Thinkpad. As there were few sources of software in those days, we often copied software from other people. At some point, we obtained a 5¼" floppy with one of the most life-changing, influential games I've ever had the pleasure of playing. Jumpman was a source of hours of mindless enjoyment. At the time it felt about as cutting edge as could get, though it pales in comparrison to what games can be today. It was cutting edge at the time, and many of us were addicted. One Christmas, I was given a game that I would never forget: Boulder Dash! I could have lived the rest of my life playing that game if only computers didn't get better, smaller, and faster. Some of us were also fortunate to have an Atari system. I had a handful of games, and remember spending a lot of time sitting in front of the television playing some of the classics (or blowing on the cartridges when they didn't work). On the Atari, one of my favorite games was Pitfall! These were all treasured games to me. I would think about them while away from the computer or game system. I couldn't wait to get home and play. Literally. I got so worked up in these games I simply needed a fix when I couldn't be on the game. That was when I started drawing Danger Dash. Danger Dash is a 11-year-old's way of making his own video game, without the video or the game. I would draw intricate, side-view maps similar to Pitfall! but with Boulder Dash's multiple direction playing field and Jumpman's simplicity. By my count, I have about a dozen in the Organge Notebook. Each one was getting more and more complex. Drawing maps like this would eventually lead to me making a good number of multi-page maps, drawings of forts and bases, and much more. Even forming a hard curiosity for cartography. For me, games like these were escapes. My drawings, on the other hand, were so much more. They were my creations. I knew them perfectly, and could win them every time in my mind. I was so good at playing games that I myself created. And somehow, I'm occasionally still playing games I've created - games of the mind rather than tangible mazes, ladders, pits, and the like. Except this time, I'm playing a game I hoped to never suffer through: life. It's not so bad. I think I'll just jump over all the crocodiles and spikes, dig through layers and layers of dirt, and make my way to safety.

Tuesdays Suck Poo

Ok, so maybe they don't.

I'm at a loss for words tonight. Not because I have nothing to say. But because, for the first time in my life, I have an idea for a novel that might actually get done.

I'm going to go wright.

Eric

Tales from an Orange Notebook: West Point Form

As those of you who have read my blog for some time know, I partially grew up in New York State. I have demons from those years, which I have done a fairly good job of exorcising in the past year. I also have very fond memories of those years, which are nearly perfect in my mind, though were surely just simple, everyday moments of a naïve child. Some of my most enjoyable memories involve playing with my friends. We surely had more money than my friends, at least in my memories, but all of the kids in the neighborhood seem to have had only a minor amount of possessions. We would often spend most of our time outside, finding something to do. We would often play games such as tag (which I hated), freeze-frame (which we named after the Cars’ song), garage band (though we were usually Run-DMC), run around the house, explorers, and much more. One of my most vivid memories, for reasons you will discover, was something we played on rare occasions that we called West Point Form. Remember West Point is in New York, not far from where I grew up, so it was something we all heard about but probably knew very little information as to what it was. We knew it was a military place, which was all we needed to start a game. To this day, I still have this amazing orange notebook, a five subject wide ruled theme book from school. Inside, one discovers the pledge to West Point Form, signed by our group of friends at the time. It reads (as it was written): West Point Form Teamates name for west point is (sign name) Melanie, Keith, Eric, and corey. Our pledge was never even written, but we all knew what it was. We pledged, “to defend our country from everything.” Who would need to write that down? I still remember it to this day, so it must have worked. The cover of the section had been labeled, in block letters, “West Point Files. This way.” The logo for West Point Form looked like an iceberg with an American flag and pole inserted in the top. “W.P.” was written on the side of the iceberg. On the inside of the cover was the “WEPONS” page. Our weapons consisted of whatever we could find in my friend’s garage, usually garden tools. I drew each weapon as best I could, defining each member’s arsenal. For whatever reason, Corey never had a stash of weapons. They were: ERIC’S: a garden hose nozzle (gun), an old cracked soccer ball (bomb), a Wiffle bat (sword), an bicycle inner tube (who the hell knows), and a protective pair of gloves (winter gloves). KEITH’S: A caulk gun (rifle), a funnel (no idea), another Wiffle bat (sword), a garden trowel (gun), another inner tube (yet again), and protective garden gloves. MEL’S: A hammer (gun), a third inner tube (my hell, where did we find these?), a grain scoop (gun), and gloves (winter variety). Our fort (which we never named – shows you what we really knew about West Point) was a big tree in Keith’s back yard. I ended up being the guard, because I couldn’t manage to climb up that big tree. I was clumsy and heavy (not large – I never could lift myself up into a tree or up a rope), and spent all my time on the ground. Corey could climb to the top of the tree, which is probably why he didn’t have a weapons stash. He was the lookout. Keith was the leader (as he always was), and his little sister Melanie was our soldier-grunt. We played this game many times. Every time, we’d use my notebook of spiral-bound paper to identify our weapons. We played enough times that we started calling the game West Point Form instead of just West Point (because it said Form after West Point – no other logical reason). I warmly recall all the battles we had defending America from everything. My notebook, which I will write about again, is a magical thing to me. It’s a window into a world I wish I had held onto longer. It was a form of escape while I was being molested. And even now, I can peer through it to escape to some of the best moments of my youth. I hope to scan some of these pages one day, and share young Eric with all of you. Here’s to defending our country from everything.

Terrible Lies

Why are you doing this to me? Am I not living up to what I'm supposed to be? Why am I seething with this animosity? I think you owe me a great big apology Terrible lie I really dont know what you mean. Seems like salvation comes only in our dreams. I feel my hatred grow all the more extreme. Can this world really be as sad as it seems Terrible lie Dont take it away from me. I need someone to hold on to. Dont take it away from me. I need someone to hold on to Theres nothing left for me to hide. I lost my ignorance, security and pride. I'm all alone in a world you must despise. I believed that promises, your promises and lies Terrible lie You made me throw it all away. My morals left to decay. How many you betray. You've taken everything Terrible lie My head is filled with disease. My skin is begging you please. I'm on my hands and knees I want so much to believe. [WHISPERED:] Dont take it away from me. I need someone to hold on to. Dont take it away from me. I need someone to hold on to - Trent Reznor (Nine Inch Nails)

Best of You

Best of You I've got another confession to make I'm your fool Everyone's got their chains to break Holdin' you Were you born to resist or be abused? Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you? Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you? Are you gone and onto someone new? I needed somewhere to hang my head Without your noose You gave me something that I didn't have But had no use I was too weak to give in Too strong to lose My heart is under arrest again But I break loose My head is giving me life or death But I can't choose I swear I'll never give in I refuse Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you? Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you? Has someone taken your faith? Its real, the pain you feel You trust, you must Confess Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you? Oh... Oh...Oh...Oh...Oh... Has someone taken your faith? Its real, the pain you feel The life, the love you'd die to heal The hope that starts the broken hearts You trust, you must Confess Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you? Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you? I've got another confession my friend I'm no fool I'm getting tired of starting again Somewhere new Were you born to resist or be abused? I swear I'll never give in I refuse Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you? Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you? Has someone taken your faith? Its real, the pain you feel You trust, you must Confess Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you? Oh... - Foo Fighters

Know Your Blogger: Sierra Sage

Know Your Blogger: Sierra Sage KYB: How and why did you start blogging? Cynthia: In February 2006, my friend Lynn Harris, who is also a writer finally convinced me that blogging was a good way to polish my writings. I had been on some chemo-drugs for three years. These drugs are not only hard on the body, but also are hard on the brain in particularly the memory. With blogging, I have been able to remember words and thoughts again. KYB: What do you enjoy about blogging? Dislike about it? Cynthia: What I like about blogging is the feeling of community. Because my immune system has to be suppressed, I am very isolated. Even though I am a real introvert, I do miss being active. I have no dislikes about blogging, but it can suprise me sometimes. As you know, I write about Amateur Radio every once in awhile. I found that I had been linked to a Porotuguese blog, whose main subject was Amatuer Radio. I was pleased. KYB: What do you read regularly? Cynthia: I read several blogs some Ex-Mos, but most writing. Arizona Expositor, A New Eric, and Sideon's Sanctuary are my regular Ex-Mos. For writing, I read Romancing Paradise (Lynn Harris), Paperback Writer (S.L. Viehl), and others. Most of the blogs I read are on my daily blog. KYB: What do you like to do when you're not blogging? Cynthia: I like to read and write. This year I wrote three book reviews for The Vasculitis Foundation. I also wrote some articles for the Vasculitis Foundation website. Recently I finished a New Member's Training Guide and NECOS (Net Control) Training for Nevada MARS (Military Affiliate Radio System). I am working on a draft of my first novel. I have some other projects in the works. KYB: Where would you say you are in the process of recovery from Mormonism? Cynthia: I am about fifteen years into my recovery. A lot of the recovery that I am reading from other bloggers is heartwrenching to me. I don't always remember how I felt at the time until I read these blogs. When was questioning the church, I had just come home off a mission at 24. When I finally broke away, I was about 27. A part of my breaking away from the church was leaving Utah. I joined the U.S. Navy. I was learning electronics. I did not have the time to think about fear of being thrown into outerdarkness. About four years later, I realized that the church was wrong. How could there be so many good people in the world who did not believe in Mormonism? I have studied several religions, trying to understand why people need God in their lives. Now I believe in a higher power. It is enough. KYB: What advice would have you for people trying to deal with leaving the church? Cynthia: Quit struggling. Find something that occupies your mind. Eventually, your subconscious will solve your problem and you can act. Love your family. KYB: What else do you want to say about your interests, hobbies, career, education, whatever? Cynthia: I spent two years in the U.S. Navy learning electronics. After I left the Navy, I finished my degree in English. In the middle of my Master's degree, I became ill with Wegener's Granulomatosis. I will probably not be able to finish my M.A. in Adult Eductation. Because of my illness, I have been helping newly diagnosed patients and their families find information that will help them live better i.e. doctors, medications, and supplements. KYB: Where did you come up with the name of your blog? Cynthia: I live near the Sierras and we have a lot of sagebrush so Sierra Sage. ;-)

Kids know

Tonight, my youngest managed to figure out how to pull the door handle in the car and make the door open - while the car was moving. It's been a while since I've had to flip the switch on the child-proof mechanism. My oldest was curious to know what I did after flipping the switch on the door, so I tried to explain that her brother won't be able to open the door from the inside now. Her immediate take on that was how unfair it was that only grown ups get to decide these things. I tried to explain that kids don't always know what they can and can't do, especially in cases where they can get hurt. She immediately blasted back that grown-ups don't know always know right from wrong, too. She's right. As adults, we carry an air of wisdom that allows us to reason right from wrong, but we always seem to have the capacity to throw reason out the window. Every adult has this quirk, really. I can think of numerous times I have chosen to do something based on anything BUT reason. But I hope that she one day sees that all the other times we chose right from wrong count more than the few times we don't. She's smart. I know she'll get it, one day. Eric

Plans

Remember, this blog moves to its new home on December 1st! Please be ready to adjust your web links, bookmarks, and squatter's stumps. www.aneweric.com I plan to have everything backed up to the new blog before the move. I'm trying to dump Blogger for a format I can rely on. Blogger has been great, but as many of you know, it's not always reliable. Or functional. These last few months I've messed around a bit with css and some more advanced web code. I'm no codehead, but I learned HTML in '93 before many people even knew was a web site was. My abilities are rudimentary at best, but I am learning. I'm hoping to have a wide-screen blog format that I want to keep for years, rather than changing every month. If I have to use Blogger to maintain the new site for a while, I will (yes, that's possible). Aside from wanting to move the site off of Blogger for technical reasons, I've recently decided to start marketing myself as a writer as a means of launching a hopeful career in writing. To do this, I am also starting a new web site at www.ericpalmatier.com, where I will highlight some of my own writing. To protect my own publishing rights and copyrights, I am putting it on a web site I own, rather than on Google's Blogger sites where I wouldn't have total control over the content. If anyone has any suggestions for blog formats, scripts, constructive criticism, or praise (pick this one!), please e-mail me. My e-mail link is still under my picture, and will not change. A moment of gratitude to my friend, Richard Futrell, owner of Richard Futrell Consulting and World Hosting Central, who is lending server space for the new blog. I encourage anyone looking for a good home (on the web), with someone who's been in the business for 15 years, and has maintained web servers for the last several years, visit World Hosting Central. Thanks for reading! Hope your weekend is well! Eric

An apology, a promise

I owe you an apology. The last few days have been hectic. OK, they've been some of the most trying days of my life. I'm sorry the posts these last few days have been fodder rather than manna. I assure you I am fine, and I'm just preoccupied with other things. I made you a promise. I intend to keep it. I have posted every day this month, so far. We're a third of the way through now. I will continue to post daily. Please check back often, because I may post multiple times in one day. For those days I post crap like "hi," I'm sorry. Bear with me! Thank you for reading. You have no idea how much I appreciate it! Eric

hi

fubars

I'm experiencing technical fubars. Sorry if comments don't work on everything. Eric

Call and Answer

I think its getting to the point Where I can be myself again I think its getting to the point Where we have almost made amends I think its the getting to the point That is the hardest part.

And if you call, I will answer And if you fall, Ill pick you up And if you court this disaster Ill point you home

You think I only think about you When were both in the same room You think Im only here to witness The remains of love exhumed You think were here to play A game of who loves more than whom

And if you call, I will answer And if you fall, Ill pick you up And if you court this disaster Ill point you home

You think its only fair to do whats Best for you and you alone You think its only fair to do the same To me when youre not home I think its time to make this something that is More than only fair

So if you call, I will answer And if you fall, Ill pick you up And if you court this disaster Ill point you home.

But Im warning you, dont ever do Those crazy, messed up things that you do If you ever do I promise you Ill be the first to crucity you Now its time to prove that youve come back Here to rebuild.

Barenaked Ladies

We're moving...

Starting December 1st, 2006, the blog will move to its new home at www.aneweric.com I will eventually be moving off of blogger, once I have everything archived on the new site. At that time, please adjust your web links accordingly! Thank you for your patience during my move! Eric

The Lesson of the Secret Confidence

Often, a nearby confidant opens his home to friends to enjoy an evening relaxing, having a drink, indulging in good conversation, or soaking in his hot tub. Living near us, I often find myself at his home partaking of one of the many diversions his home has to offer. Last night was such a night. I wasn’t in the best of moods, and had planned to walk home after spending a little time with friends – just long enough to maintain a presence and go vegetate on the computer. Among my friends, there is a woman who I have the utmost respect for. She and I have had many discussions about life, trials, sorrow, and joy. I feel a strong bond to my friend, and make a point to listen when she speaks, even when she’s goofing around in the hot tub. She’s not perfect – in fact, she’s quite flawed. But her subtle intelligence is amazingly insightful. Last night, I found her in the hot tub carrying on a conversation with a couple people. She was discussing one of the participant’s life situations. He’s going through a divorce, dealing with leaving the Mormon church, a recent job change (after a layoff), and having to piece together a new life. In his journey, he’s on the road to finding a new companion as well. In the conversation, he was discussing his difficulties with women. My friend is a hell of a woman. She’s headstrong and direct, very realistic, but still friendly and caring in her own way. And in her own way, she bluntly told this man that his biggest problem is confidence. By her point, he needs to gain more self-confidence. She told him she could see it in his walk, his talk, and how he carries himself. The entire exchange was very enlightening for him, I think. It also struck a chord within myself, as I’ve often wondered what I could accomplish with more self-confidence in my own life. During my moment of agreement, she turned to me, looking me in the eyes, and bluntly said (paraphrasing), “Eric, you don’t have that problem. You have a secret confidence within yourself. You know who you are, what you want, and you know how to get it. But you keep that confidence to yourself. It shows through sometimes, when you’re in your element, a bit tipsy from alcohol, among close friends, or when you’re the one who knows what he’s talking about. You need to let your secret confidence come out. When you do, your life will change.” I mostly brushed off her comment as we moved on to discussing my own problems in life. This morning, I recalled the comment and started thinking about it. She’s right. When I look within myself, I see the potential and marking of self-confidence that proves that its there. Thinking of work, I can say in all confidence that I own the place, and everyone from the employees to the customers knows it. It’s not cocky, conceited, or self-serving of me to say this, as many of us have discussed this at length while at work. If I come in while in a sour mood, I bring the entire group down. If I come in bouncing off the walls, the group finds itself on a high. I know just about every pertinent piece of information that anyone in my area should, might, or could know. I stroll in listening to music which pumps me up for the day, sunglasses stay on until the last moment, sporting somewhat sharp dress clothes, and wearing a badass attitude that shows. Then it dawned on me. I am secretly confident. I don’t walk in, take charge, and run the place without confidence. The days I come in feeling all dejected or depressed, lacking confidence, the place runs like a gear with gravel in it. My friend is right about me. The confidence is there, waiting to come out, loving the few moments when it does, and dreading the rest of the day as it’s locked away inside. I don’t need a physical makeover to feel more confident in myself. I need a breakthrough. I need to makeover my life, and the rest will fall into place. This is the lesson of the Secret Confidence: Let it out. Set your mood on fire, and let your inner-confidence fuel the outer confidence. Become a fireball of fearlessness. Ignite your life, and see where the journey takes you. If you lack the Secret Confidence, simply look inside yourself. Be the creator of your own existence, own that existence, and flaunt it like you have nothing to lose. 3 2 1 IGNITION

Call and Answer

I think its getting to the point Where I can be myself again I think its getting to the point Where we have almost made amends I think its the getting to the point That is the hardest part.

And if you call, I will answer And if you fall, Ill pick you up And if you court this disaster Ill point you home

You think I only think about you When were both in the same room You think Im only here to witness The remains of love exhumed You think were here to play A game of who loves more than whom

And if you call, I will answer And if you fall, Ill pick you up And if you court this disaster Ill point you home

You think its only fair to do whats Best for you and you alone You think its only fair to do the same To me when youre not home I think its time to make this something that is More than only fair

So if you call, I will answer And if you fall, Ill pick you up And if you court this disaster Ill point you home.

But Im warning you, dont ever do Those crazy, messed up things that you do If you ever do I promise you Ill be the first to crucity you Now its time to prove that youve come back Here to rebuild.

Barenaked Ladies

The Man in the Corner

I wrote this in June. I often begin stories and never finish them. This is one of those stories. The Man in the Corner The man in the corner was alone, seemingly uninterested in the other people in the room. He seemed to avoid eye contact at any cost. If the room were quiet, one would notice that his player volume was turned up so high that it would drown out any possible noise. His foot tapped to some song only heard by him, but with the apparent intention of keeping his attention occupied. If the others in the room could enter his thoughts, they would likely see a tortured soul. Something caused this man great pain in his life, and in turn, caused him to avoid any contact with others for fear of that pain returning. In plain sight, he hid behind his thoughts, his music, and his pain. Finished with his food, the man stood and carried his tray to the nearest trash bin. Placing his darks sunglasses over his eyes, still avoiding eye contact with others, he made his way to the door that would lead him to his car. He was glad to leave. When he arrived, the room had been empty, more manageable. But the restaurant got busy and he had to eat quickly. Once inside his car, he could finally remove the headsets from his ears. Isolated, safe in his car, and away from sight of others, he could relax his mind. And cry. Cry for his inability to hold basic interpersonal, usually temporary relationships because of his condition. Cry for the loneliness that permeated his life. This man longed for release, to be removed from this world. What little strength he had kept him from following through with his own desires. He secretly worried that his soul would remain trapped in this world, incorporeal and unable to physically ignore his condition, he would spend eternity in agony. Of course, he had no real idea that this would happen, but it would be his ultimate hell if it did. Because of this, he feared death by old age as much as suicide under his own power. The man drove himself home. Inside his house he could return to his sheltered existence. He could remove himself from the world, for a time, at least until he had to eat again. ***

Illustrator work by Eric. 

Penny for the Guy

Remember remember the fifth of November, Gunpowder Treason and Plot, I see no reason why gunpowder treason should ever be forgot. Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, 'twas his intent to blow up the King and the Parliament. Three score barrels of powder below, Poor old England to overthrow: By God's providence he was catch'd With a dark lantern and burning match. Holloa boys, holloa boys, make the bells ring. Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King! Hip hip hoorah!

Know Your Blogger: Eight Hour Lunch

This week's Blogger needs little introduction, but here we go... A select few of us have been "blessed" with the opportunity to meet Doug of Eight Hour Lunch in person. I guarantee you that he is just as interesting in real life as he is on his blog (and then some). AND, he plays a mean guitar! I beg you to go read through his blog. You won't regret it! (Celebrity endorsement impersonated) And now... Know Your Blogger: Eight Hour Lunch KYB: How and why did you start blogging? Doug: I started back when they called it "writing in your journal" and I did it at first because I thought I'd go to hell if I didn't. Let me tell you, that makes for some pretty dull writing. So, I started thinking, "what if someone actually reads this crap? They'll die of sheer boredom!" Before I even started officially blogging, I tried to look for new ways to look at things and only wrote when I wanted to. When I couldn't find exciting things to write about, I started looking for exciting things to do. They were easy to find. So easy, in fact, that now I don't feel like I have a tenth of the time I need to actually do everything I enjoy. For getting it all online, I really ought to thank Jon over at Blurbomat. If he hadn't introduced me to his and his wife's blog, I don't think I would have ever completely caught the vision. Or addiction. Heidi says addiction. Whatever. KYB: What do you enjoy about blogging? Dislike about it? Doug: You know, I'd probably do it for the pay alone…but with all the beer, sex and crazy parties, it's hard to imagine spending my spare time any other way. There isn't much that I dislike about blogging, or I wouldn't do it. If I were to pick one thing, though, it'd probably be the obsessive nature of it. Sometimes I really have to force myself to not check rankings, stats and comments. KYB: What do you read regularly? Doug: I read a ton of news and blogs. And more blogs—enough that I'm afraid to mention names for fear of leaving any out. Besides, I'm sure most of them already know I read from the comments. I enjoy fiction, too. A fantastic book I finished recently was Executive Power, by Vince Flynn. Very enjoyable. And if you like that, you'll love Patrick Robinson's HMS Unseen. Right now I'm in the middle of a Clive Cussler novel. I suspect he's kind of a literary equivalent to McDonald's, but I still like him. Actually, he's probably more like an Apollo Burger. If you don't know what that is, man, am I sorry for you. KYB: What do you like to do when you're not blogging? Doug: I probably shouldn't talk about that here, but I'm doing it right now. What did you say you were wearing? Oh yeah...I'm straight. Never mind. Seriously though, I have a ton of hobbies. Probably too many. I'm kind of crazy that way. I keep a running list of things that interest me here: http://www.eighthourlunch.com/about/list.php I have this insatiable appetite for all the great things that life has to offer. Some might call me ADHD, I prefer "renaissance man". Of course time is scarce when you find so many things entertaining, and that's how I came up with the name and concept for my site. What would I do if all my days were filled with eight hour lunches? KYB: Where would you say you are in the process of recovery from Mormonism? Doug: Recovery from what now? Umm, excuse me for a minute…I seem to have misplaced my scotch… KYB: What advice would have you for people trying to deal with leaving the church? Doug: I'm a little scared at the idea of people taking my advice, but here goes. First and foremost, think for yourself rationally and without contradiction. Don't incorporate any other ideas into your personal philosophy unless they can withstand the same scrutiny you applied to your former church. That goes double for other churches, folks. You can leave the church but you don't have to leave it alone. Call your old bishop on mother's day to tell him what a mother he truly is. Ok, maybe that's going a little too far, but don't let your former church set the terms for your recovery. Obsess about it for a while if you need to. It's not like you'll go to hell for it.

People Aren't Always People

People are people So why should it be You and I should get along so awfully

Depeche Mode

I was having an interesting conversation tonight at work concerning awful mixed drinks (think peppermint schnapps and yaegermeister). The topic turned to Mormonism and stigmas. During the conversation, a nearby customer was being helped and overheard us.

The customer came up to the employee I was speaking to and told him off. Basically, she thought it was inappropriate for us to talk about alcohol in public. I'll give her the inappropriate moment which SHE walked into, but I have no slack in her abstinent reaction. We weren't swearing, laughing loudly, making fun of Mormons, talking about the temple, or anything that might piss her off. We were simply talking about liquors that taste like bat poo, and Mormons who wear beards (we didn't make it coffee). Really. Is it THAT big of a deal?

This interaction reminded me of one of the biggest problems with Utah County (so-called Happy Valley). A large number of people have their head up their asses when it comes to any sort of diversity.

Being non-Mormon in Utah County is akin to being a sub-class or sub-species. Yes, there are decent Mormons here, but not enough. Once, my boss told a friend of his that anyone who "works on Sundays has their priorities out of whack." Interestingly, he will soon be working Sundays for holiday hours, and used to work Sundays all the time in his old position.

I once had an elderly sister missionary wait over an hour for me to help her simply because she didn't want to be helped by my Mexican Mormon coworker, simply because of his accent. She claimed she couldn't understand him, but she did great when he came over beaming about a sister missionary in the store.

I don't know how many times I've been asked about my ward, or been targeted for conversion conversation at work - even when I WAS Mormon.

Why can't people just be people, instead of assumed Mormon or non-Mormon? Most anywhere else in the country, no one would give a crap about the conversation I had tonight. I mean, really! Come ON!

People are people So why should it be You and I should get along so awfully People are people So why should it be You and I should get along so awfully

So we're different colours And we're different creeds And different people Have different needs It's obvious you hate me Though I've done nothing wrong I've never even met you So what could I have done I can't understand What makes a man Hate another man Help me understand People are people So why should it be You and I should get along so awfully People are people So why should it be You and I should get along so awfully Help me understand Help me understand

Now you're punching And you're kicking And you're shouting at me And I'm relying on your common decency So far it hasn't surfaced But I'm sure it exists It just takes a while to travel From your head to your fist (head to your fists) I can't understand what makes a man Hate another man Help me understand People are people So why should it be You and I should get along so awfully People are people So why should it be You and I should get along so awfully

I can't understand What makes a man Hate another man Help me understand I can't understand What makes a man Hate another man Help me understand I can't understand What makes a man Hate another man I can't understand (people are people) What makes a man (why should it be) Hate another man Help me understand...

This is for Christy

I am the blogging king! I can do anyhing!

Eric

The Sick Entry

There are lots of colds being traded on the open market here in Utah. A post on La's blog brought back a memory. First, my apologies to my mother, faithful reader of the blog. I think it was my freshman year of high school... As I got eady for bed, one Sunday evening, my stomach twisted with a sudden fright. I had forgotten to study for a Monday morning test. I couldn't afford to fail that test - I had to skip school. I simply needed an extra day to study. Unfortunately, my conscience wouldn't allow me to just go hide somewhere until school was out. So I employed a tactic I had used many times before (and after). I went to the kitchen and selected the largest zip-loc bag we had. I quietly dumped a cup of milk in the bag, followed by a handful of crackers or Cheese Nips. That night, I was able to add a few bits of whatever we had for dinner. Dripping one drop of green food dye in the mix adds just a little extra "flavor." I closed the bag, massaged it a little to make it chunky, and let it sit in my room overnight. The next morning, I woke up, went to the bathroom with the bag, and tossed it in the toilet. After getting rid of the incriminating zip-loc, I went to tell my Mom that I'd thrown up, and I didn't feel up to going to school. It worked. In fact, it ended up working so well, I stayed home through Wednesday. On Wednesday, my Mom took me to see the doctor. I was certain this little game of hookie was over. In my memory, I think someone knew I wasn't really sick. They did the usual tests, checks, swabs, and whatnot. I went home with a clean bill of health. And a guilty conscience. The next day, while suffering through gym class, I got a note to go to the school office for a phone call. It was my Mom, telling me she was coming to pick me up. I had strep throat. I stayed home Friday. So I faked illness only to get sick. With strep, of all things. Nothing quite like being sick, real or not. Oh, yeah! I forgot to study for the test, but aced it anyway. It was English class. Duh! I think there's much to be said about the power of the mind. Eric

Technorati

I just registered for Technorati. I've known about it for some time, but haven't care too much about it. For some reason, I was curious to see how I rated. a new eric is rated #174,153 in the blog world! Woo hoo! I guess it could be worse. My old blog, Epik Speaks His Mind, is rated #1,993,222. It could be better. La beat me by 32,626 points. Of course, her blog is so much more interesting than mine. I guess it always beats being last. Technorati tracks 58.7 million blogs. All comparison aside, I'm curious to see how this month, where I will be posting each and every day, changes my ranking. I'm also curious to figure out how the heck I got ranked in the first place. Eric

What is a blog?

From Wikipedia:

A blog is a website where entries are made in journal style and displayed in a reverse chronological order.

Blogs often provide commentary or news on a particular subject, such as food, politics, or local news; some function as more personal online diaries. A typical blog combines text, images, and links to other blogs, web pages, and other media related to its topic. Most blogs are primarily textual although some focus on photographs (photoblog), videos (vlog), or audio (podcasting), and are part of a wider network of social media.

The term "blog" is a contraction of "Web log." "Blog" can also be used as a verb, meaning to maintain or add content to a blog.

See more on Wikipedia's site.

B is for Blogging! 

I've put my trust in you Pushed as far as I can go For all this There’s only one thing you should know

I've put my trust in you Pushed as far as I can go For all this There’s only one thing you should know

I tried so hard And got so far But in the end It doesn’t even matter

I had to fall To lose it all But in the end It doesn’t even matter In The End by Linkin Park

Happines Is Just A Curly Fry Away

The man looked like Sloth from Goonies: squat right eye, aimed in an impossible direction. His mouth a mess of missing or pointed teeth. He was busy in another part of the restaurant, cleaning some kind of mess. His boss came to the counter, yelling at him, telling him he had a customer.

"I'm coming!" He responded with a sense of urgency.

Hobbling to the sales side of the counter, wincing from the pain his bad leg caused when he walked, he moved to the register, sat in a chair that had obviously been left for him, and took the order. The customer he was serving was uncomfortable looking him in the eye. The eye that worked.

The two exchanged pleasantries. Soon, the customer ralized the employee was an actual person, and not just just a mangled face. Both calmed considerably. The customer relaxed, allowing his own face to reveal the state of his heart; the sadness.

As the customer turned to leave, the disfigured man called out, "Read the admonition on yur cup!"

Looking down, the customer read: "Happiness is a curly fry away."

With that, the customer began to think...

November 1st, 2006

Hurt

I hurt myself today to see if I still feel I focus on the pain the only thing that's real the needle tears a hole the old familiar sting try to kill it all away but I remember everything what have I become? my sweetest friend everyone I know goes away in the end and you could have it all my empire of dirt

I will let you down I will make you hurt

I wear this crown of thorns upon my liar's chair full of broken thoughts I cannot repair beneath the stains of time the feelings disappear you are someone else I am still right here

what have I become? my sweetest friend everyone I know goes away in the end and you could have it all my empire of dirt

I will let you down I will make you hurt

if I could start again a million miles away I would keep myself I would find a way

From the genius of Trent Reznor, sung by the amazing Johnny Cash.

A Committment To My Readers

(all five of you - you know who you are) Today is October 31st! I think there's a holiday today, though the banks aren't closed, and I still have to work late. What the hell? November is National Blog Posting Month! There is a contest, of sorts, to see who can post on their blog every day. At the end of the month everyone who participated and accomplished the act of posting each and every day will be placed in a random drawing for prizes (which keep piling up at this point). My committment to you: I will post something each and every day through November. As those five of you who read regularly know, I have my cycles. I post a lot, I post nothing. Inspiration is a fickle thing for me. Time is a huge issue, as well. Committing to posting every day for a month is no easy task for me. I am doing this for three reasons: first, and foremost, for you - the loyal and appreciative (as in send me money) reader. Second, my blog is an excercise in writing, and participating in NaBloPoMo is a way for me to hone my skills. Third, I hope to increase my readership to ten regular people, and there is a chance that my participation in this event may get me closer to my goal. If you're interested in joining in this writing-geek fun, visit the NaBloPoMo site! If it looks like I'm forgetting to post, call me! You have my number. Some of you may even have me in your back pocket.

Know Your Blogger: Freckle Face Girl

Know Your Blogger: Freckle Face Girl KYB: How and why did you start blogging? FFG: My much younger sister had been blogging for a while, so I was aware that it existed. I didn’t even consider signing up for my own blog until I met my husband’s cousins Em and Jenn. Jenn sent me an e-mail with her link. The idea really grew on me. I thought it would be a great way to keep in touch with friends and family scattered all over. Now, my blog is mostly read by people I haven’t met in person. KYB: What do you enjoy about blogging? Dislike about it? FFG: There are many things I like about blogging including connecting with new people, being able to read old posts & reminisce, and changing my blog design (over & over & over). It is all very addictive. What I don’t like is hoping that my company never discovers my blog. I doubt they would do anything, but I would rather keep it a secret from them for now. I do nothing to prevent it though. KYB: What do you read regularly? FFG: Besides other blogs, I mostly read a LOT of work related websites, magazines, newspapers, etc. After all of that, I am not that interested in reading for pleasure. However, my favorite books are biographies, which probably explains why I like blogs. KYB: What do you like to do when you're not blogging? FFG: Since we have recently moved to South Beach, the joys in my life revolve around simple things like walking on the beach, and sitting at outdoor cafés, people watching, and relaxing. I also love joking with my husband, playing with our baby, and traveling. KYB: Where would you say you are in the process of recovery from Mormonism? FFG: This is a tough question. I can't remember ever being TBM and I have been inactive for over a decade. I guess I have come to see Mormonism as part of my childhood. My parents and my family members are TBM, so it will always be there. Like all organized religions I have studied, they believe things that I don’t. Mormonism is not something I choose to practice as an adult. However, I appreciate some of the positive aspects of all religions. As for the LDS Church, they have many wonderful nursery songs that were pounded into my head as a child. The songs come in very handy, on the daily commute, when the only thing that keeps Lexi (my baby) happy is me singing. KYB: What advice would you have for people trying to deal with leaving the church? FFG: Life is all about enjoying the time we have. Sundays should be spent for doing whatever makes you truly happy. Making a drastic change in life is difficult for some people, but there are plenty of positives. They should embrace the freedom of having more time and no church responsibilities. Also, don’t pick fights with family members. Try to establish an understanding of mutual respect. Hopefully, nobody will be trying to make the other one see the "truth" as they know it. KYB: What else do you want to say about your interests, hobbies, career, education, whatever? FFG: All I do on my blog is blab about me, my experiences, my opinions, etc. When it comes to writing a random paragraph, my mind always goes blank –the blonde in me comes out. KYB: Where did you come up with the name of your blog? FFG: My first blog was called Artemis-Gaia, which didn’t take long for me to outgrow. I realized that I needed something that fit me completely from birth to death. As I thought about how much life changes, I wanted to pick something about me that doesn’t change. So…I came up with Freckle Face Girl. As I like to say – Life brings about many changes, but through it all I am just a freckle face girl.

The Earth Moves On

Christy, you asked me to write. This is for you. The earth rotates 360° every 23 hours, 56 minutes, 4.091 seconds. We know this through observation, using a calibration system that is based on the motion of the universe as we can tangibly view it. We can use the stars as a grid system. If we take the Earth’s position and create a direct line to major stars, we can create a basis for movement. In a real world situation, you can gauge for fast a vehicle is traveling by measuring the amount of time it takes for the vehicle to travel from point A to point B, assuming you know the exact distance between A and B. Similarly, you can tell a lot about the Earth’s movement by gauging its rotation in comparison to two points, one of which can be a star. In general, the stars move slowly enough from our perspective to make this system functional. The problem is, it’s never accurate. The Earth’s spin is affected by a multitude of factors. The biggest is usually our co-existence with the moon. Many scientists will tell you the Earth-Moon system is really a symbiotic relationship, commonly referred to as a double planet system rather than a plant-satellite system. There are numerous reasons for this description, but I will summarize them into this statement: the Moon does not act like typical satellites – it acts more like a planet. The Moon causes the Earth’s waters to shift. The water of the Earth is actually pulled toward the Moon. As the Moon orbits, waters shift, and tides occur. Because the Moon has an awesome amount of pull on the Earth, the Earth is slowing in its rotation and the Moon is accelerating. Further, the notion that the Earth spins a full rotation in slightly less than 24 hours is wrong only because it changes by microseconds each day. It is commonly believed that shifting weather patterns, plate tectonics, and a slew of outer-Earth gravities cause problems in measuring the time it takes for the Earth to rotate on its axis. Additionally, the stars themselves can be problematic. The universe does not spin around the Earth in perfect circular or elliptical orbits, so every star has a peculiar motion from our Earthly perspective – nothing moves in a straight line. The calibration system for measurement is constantly being recalculated. Even still, we have an excellent idea of how fast and how long the Earth moves, even though the plane in which we measure its movement, as well as the objects own movement, are constantly changing. In other words, the Earth moves on. Our lives are constantly shifting, wobbling, moving erratically. Those with whom we are associated with through invisible bonds also have the same inherent system. The world in which we base the gravity of our lives is always in flux, ever changing. Sometimes, we’re pulled in directions we never expected. Other times, there seems to be little pull in the direction we wish to go. Our lives speed up and slow down either randomly or predictably, or don’t move at all. It’s in these times that we question the calibration system of our lives, make adjustments, and keep moving as best we can. Many people, myself included, don’t like the shift in our lives. Some few welcome it, embrace it, and move on in a new direction that leaves old attractions wondering where the changes came from. People spend each and every day accepting, and yet questioning, their reality as they see it. My life is full of stability and instability, change and consistency. Each day I wonder how my basis or reality will be different today, and what it might be tomorrow. I live day by day in constant flux. In some ways, I find great joy in some of the changes in my life. In other ways, I detest and resist the changes with all my being. One thing remains constant, unchanging, and predictable: the Earth moves on. Measuring the movement of my life to a finite degree is impossible. But accepting the fact that life continues, with or without me, makes determining and deciphering the movement of life just a little bit easier. Eric

Learning to Ride a Bike

This year our daughter learned how to ride a bicycle without training wheels. I had tried many times to help her learn how to ride the bike, but she was constantly worried of falling. Every time I would let go of the bike, she’d let it fall to one side. It was very frustrating for me, and certainly for our daughter. I had mostly given up, for the time being. I hoped that she would figure it out eventually. One day I came home to find her zipping up and down the street on her bicycle. One of her friends simply showed her how to get the bike rolling, and she picked everything up from there. When I was growing up, I was the kid who couldn't ride a bike. My Dad tired many times to help me learn how to find my balance while simultaneously keeping a forward motion, but I couldn’t get the hang of it. All the kids in my neighborhood could ride without training wheels by around age four. I was nearly eight when I figured it out. For almost four years I made occasional efforts to learn how to ride my bike. Most days, I would simply run behind my friends as they sped down the road, eventually catching up to them. I never liked the fact that I couldn’t ride a bike, but lived with it nonetheless. While my neighborhood friends would sometimes tease me about it, they weren’t all to concerned with my inability to ride a bike. One day, after having given up for the umpteenth time many months prior, I walked up to my bike, sat on the seat, pushed off with my feet, and rolled away. I can’t say how I knew how to ride that bike, or what courage I found to just sit on the seat and go. I’ve been mystified by that moment for over 20 years. Somehow, I woke up one day understanding the fundamental aspects of balance in motion, and put it into use. I don’t mean that I came to understand the physics at eight years old (that came later), I mean that one day it felt natural in my mind and with my body. Later, after showing my friends I had figured it out, some of us raced to see who could pedal the fastest. I one my first race in good time. As I passed two friends they both put up hands to give me a five, and like an idiot, I put out both hands. I still remember seeing the world spin around me as my body did head-over-feet twirls through the air. Even beat to a pulp, I couldn’t wait to get back on my bike. While my daughter and I have many similarities, some of them frustrating, there are some drastic contrasts between us. I see a lot of myself in her, but I see a lot in her that is not mine. My life has been full of late starts, incompletion, half-ass attempts, and wishing for things I could have if I simply made the effort. I’m half the man I could be, but only because I live in a choice to be that way. I’ve lived in my own reality, where I can meander by through life and where I don’t have to step up to the plate and take action. I can exist under the radar, outside of danger, and away from both pain and pleasure. And in all my attempts to avoid living my life, I’ve managed to become who I cam today: a man struggling to become anew. Someone striving to be something they can be, rather than something they only desire to be. This is part of my quest in life – part of my search for “a new Eric.” My daughter, despite all the moments she may zone out, tune out, or flake out and cause tension in our relationship, does not have my penchant for holding back. She doesn’t hesitate to do things, even when she knows the consequences. She doesn’t avoid an argument with her parents, doesn’t shy away from people, and doesn’t back down very easily. While frustrating as a parent, I hope she molds these qualities into a strong woman – the equivalent of the strong man I struggle to discover today. After years of failure to start, I once walked up to a challenge and simply pushed forward as if I’d been doing it my whole life. I know that one day, I will walk up to the life I always wanted to lead, sit on the seat, and find myself going full-throttle down the street. What a wonderful day that will be. Eric

I suck

So this week has been a difficult one. I just can't find the time, notion, or energy to mess with the blog. I've been writing, which is a good sign, but no one here would know based on what I've posted... So let's post something! Eric

Know Your Blogger: Just One of Many

I’ve been writing on and off the last few days, so I apologize for the last few days without blog entries. It’s been hard to follow up The Ballad of the Burnt Silly Putty.

This week’s Know Your Blogger profile is a woman who makes many of us think. If we’re not thinking about Mexican food, Grey’s Anatomy, or sex toys, some of us (guys, esp.) are having to deal with the whole teacher as porn-star fantasy she has created for us. J

And now…

Know Your Blogger: Just One of Many KYB: How and why did you start blogging? JOOM: I am a voyeur at heart! I love to go to airports and people watch. I like to imagine what their lives are like and fill in the gaps with my imagination. I started blogging because I really enjoyed reading other peoples pages and felt I wanted to take the next step in becoming a true part of the blogging world. KYB: What do you enjoy about blogging? Dislike about it? JOOM: I really enjoy getting to know other people all over the world! Everyone is so unique. I have learned to become more tolerant of other peoples' choices. I used to believe homosexuality was a sin...I now believe it is something beautiful and have a lot of respect for those in the gay community. It takes a lot of guts to stand up for what you are rather to try to fit into a mold that just isn't you! *Hugs* to Sideon!! (I'll blog about the bi-sexual me in college later!) I guess what I dislike the most about blogging is my inability to create a sidebar. I am a techno-moron! I have seen so many wonderful blog pages that incorporate pictures, music, and video. I guess I am developing a severe case of blog envy! KYB: What do you read regularly? JOOM: Read?? I haven't had time to really read in years!! Three kids in four years equals no time to read!! I love the Sci-fi genre. Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time series is my favorite. However, I do like the Tad Williams series. I love to read poetry. Sylvia Plath is my favorite poet. She was very expressive...too bad she off'd herself in a gas oven!! KYB: What do you like to do when you're not blogging? JOOM: I like to work out. I enjoy rock climbing...I just wish there was a rock gym or mountains here in the middle of nowhere Texas. I enjoy watching my kids in their various activities. I am currently building up a bar in my house. I have enjoyed mixing drinks for friends. I love the website for mixing drinks at drinknation.com; it has a zillion drink recipes!! KYB: Where would you say you are in the process of recovery from Mormonism? JOOM: I believe I am about 2/3 on the way to a full recovery. I am kinda stuck at this point. I guess I am at the point where it is still new and the judgmental looks and how their kids treat mine are kind of irritating! I in no way want to go back. I just hope to one day wake up and make it through the day without thinking about the whole shit I've been through. KYB: What advice would have you for people trying to deal with leaving the church? JOOM: I think it is good to talk to other people who have gone through the same thing or talk to another person who is currently deciding on whether or not to exit the church. I found outer blogness and it has helped me remain sane. It is so easy to think your all alone in discovering the church inconsistencies and lies. For me, it was simple. The church is in a systematic spin cycle designed to propagate lies in the name of God. I was not going to allow myself and my family to condone this belief system any longer. My finale advice is to be true to yourself first. You must choose for yourself, whether to stay or go. You are not going to hell/outer darkness, don't take the phone calls, visits, letters, or self-righteous looks to heart...the TBMers out there just have their spam blockers on and refuse to listen to the TRUTH! KYB: What else do you want to say about your interests, hobbies, career, education, whatever? JOOM: I majored in English/History...you wouldn't know it by my blogging grammar!! I often write without self-editing!! Much more enjoyable. If I was submitting things to print, I would definitely be more cautious. I have my teaching certification. I taught 7th, 8th, 10th, 12th grade English. Currently a stay-at-homer!! I am toying with the idea of going back to school to work on a family counseling degree. I figure once I am not so screwed up maybe I can help others through whatever hell they are going through! I would also like to learn how to fly, see the world, dance naked in the rain, and run a marathon before I die. KYB: Where did you come up with the name of your blog? JOOM: Well my blog name came about because due to me being just one of many who were disillusioned about the church. It could mean anything and perhaps nothing. I am still struggling to define myself. Maybe one day I will change my blog name to fit my new found individualism...until then I am Just One of Many!

The Ballad of the Burnt Silly Putty

Like most kids growing up, there was one toy that captured my fascination time after time. With every new batch, I couldn’t wait to tear through that annoying cardboard wrapper to release that magical, maroon miscreant from its translucent plastic prison. And inside that insidious egg! Oh, what a treat of marvelous magnitude! “Nothing else is Silly Putty!” You can stretch it, bounce it, break it, and transfer comics to it. This viscoelastic liquid is the most amazing thing you’ve ever laid your hands on! Then the addiction kicks in. You can’t stop playing with it. You ruin your comic books, you mess up your hair, and the little gob of goo collects every nasty piece of dirt and mite excrement within yards of Dow Corning 3179 Dilatant Compound. One day, you spread it out over your nose. That’s when everything goes downhill. Having the concoction so close to our olfactory proboscis only a few times, you become addicted to the noxious smell of Silly Putty. You can’t stop messing with it. You start to create bubbles by folding over flattened Silly Putty, hoping to catch a blast of that entrancing scent and an earful of that pretentious pop. You soon degrade into a narcotic, obsessive dependence. You have to have it in your hands, or covering your forehead, or in your mouth. You start sleeping with it. It causes you to hallucinate about buying more of it, but your parents won’t spend the buck or two to satisfy your carnal desires. Si[mp]ly put(ty), you can’t be without it. Spiraling further down lustful entrapment, you start to find ways to invigorate your addiction to DC3179DC. You start to freeze it, just to see what the hell happens to it. You combine it with another of your vile addictions: collecting spent hydrogen peroxide activated in phenyl oxalate ester (glow sticks). Unsatisfied with the super-viscous yellow concoction you have created, you add new Silly Putty, which you’ve likely stolen from Walgreen’s because your parents still won’t pay for your vices. You find your needs unsatisfied. In desperation, and in a moment of pure druggie-like inspiration, you realize you need to warm up your Putty to capture the mystical aroma as it permeates the environment. But you can’t use the microwave – you’ll lose all that smell. You can’t use the stove, or the oven. You sit at your desk, paper and pen in hand, ready to brainstorm different ways you can warm up your precious. The sun? Magnifying lens? Keeping it in your underwear for an hour? After hours of work, the sun goes down, and you turn on your desk lamp. You take a whiff of Silliness, and turn your attentions back to the project at hand, when it hits you. The lamp. The bulb gets hot – very hot. You place the Putty on the metal bars that emerge from the lampshade. A few minutes later, you remove the putty. OH GOD IN HEAVEN! The Silly Putty has been transformed into something of the same nature as manna. The aroma attacks your deepest needs and desires. You must have more! You put the Putty back on the lamp, and again enjoy a round of freebasing. Again, it returns to the lamp, and you enjoy the wondrous smell. With time, you’re called to dinner. High as a kid can get on a safe, non-toxic elastic solid, you rush through dinner to return to a night of depravity. Its then that things turn for the worse. The smell. Not the one you love, but a distorted, nasty version of it. You look at the lamp, and in horror, realize you left the wad of Silly Putty on the lampshade. The smoke rising from the lamp looks like the devil himself. In a panic, you rush to the lamp, hoping to rescue your “Precious Nothing Else” from a horrid death. The Putty has melted through the lampshade support wires and onto the light bulb. In fact, the bulb is almost entirely covered in Silly Putty. The smoke destroys your senses; it is the vilest smell you have ever encountered. Worse, even, than any bad fart, smelly crap, skunk, or dead animal you’ve ever come across. As you hesitate in your wash of emotional loss, you see the waif of smoke erupt a tiny flame; with crackles so eerie you will never forget them. Somehow, you manage to tear yourself away to unplug the lamp, as the control is now rendered useless, coated in Silly Putty. With windows open, you allow the bulb to cool for a while – long enough to realize the severity of your addiction and decide that this fiasco is enough to stop cold turkey. The smell has now penetrated all your senses, and has made its way to your brain. The headache is the most painful of your life. The embarrassment is even worse. You vow to never reveal this day to a living soul. For more than a decade, you smell that smell every day you turn on that lamp - if not for the memory, for the residual smell caused by the remaining microscopic particles of Silly Putty all over the lamp. You get headaches just thinking of the stench, and worse when you actually encounter the retched smell. With time, people even assume that smell is part of your own body odor. You move to another state, grow older, and soon you manage to trash that old, smelly lampshade. You no longer think of the pain of that event each and every day. Your life recovers, slowly but surely. You eventually have a house, a spouse, and children, but you never lose that lamp. Still, even after almost 20 years, you can smell that putrid emanation. One day, you find the nerve to throw away that old lamp. You can’t find it in your heart to donate it, because you don’t wish to pass the evil possessed within the lamp to another. You simply throw it away. You move on. You live each day, trying to forget the nidorous smell of burnt Silly Putty. Eric Little to no Silly Putty was harmed in the creation of this blog. Names have been changed to protect the innocent, and events have been slightly exagerated for "dramatic effect." So there.

Something more aggravating than the days Rebecca doesn't post

Rebecca is not a goathead. This year we were visited by the most noxious of visitors. Whoever it was (you know who you are) left a crapload of seeds in our yard. Those seeds found good soil, planted roots, and grew. As the plant grew, it decided this must be a great place to live (I don't mow the lawn when it's dead or the mower is busted), and sent its children seeds into the word to grow, mate, and cover the earth (or just our yard). Like a bad cliché it spread across the land. Then the rain came. Or rather, I figured out a cheap and half-ass way to put out sprinklers which didn't require my constant attention. So anyway, the rain came. They grew... yadda, yadda, yadda. And now I have a yard pitted with this noxious visitor: Say hello to the Goathead! Also known as Puncturevine, or Tribulus terrestris. This butthead of a plant has been popping up all over our lawn for the last few months. It was non-existent until I put out some half-way decent sprinklers and grew the hell out of them. The biggest problem with the Goathead is it's seeds. The seed is actually a cluster of seeds inside a transportation shell, which comes in packs of five. The transportation shell falls off the plant, and the five goatheads fall off the pack. These things have spears - wait, no... daggers - on them. The goatheads are rock-hard, and with a spine as big as the seed shell, it has been known to pop bike tires (already got one), cause bare feet to bleed (all of us have been there, done that), they gave my son the ability to tap dance in his favorite shoes, they made the stroller's wheels look like something from Mad Max, and I fear will soon pop one of our car's tires (as has been known to happen with these little shits). The Goathead is a plant from hell. It has few predators. Even GOATS don't eat these things. There is one breed of weevils that eats this plant - only one, hard to find, tiny, maggoty, little species aptly known as the Puncturevine Weevil. Oh, and you can spray the hell out of it with a strong weed killer or an all-or-nothing vegetation killer. I've found a shovel works well, too, but you got to get to that turd of a root under the plant or it will come back. Oh, and in the process of picking up the plant, you've spilled all its evil Goathead seed on the ground, further causing you to have to deal with this a few months down the road. Cold weather only slows it down. Nice. Lastly, I want to share with you one of the nastiest Goatheads I've had the displeasure of pulling from my foot. This mofo was about the size of a baby pea, and about as deadly as a nuclear bomb. If you get anything from this botany lesson I hope it is this: kill this hellacious plant when its small, by whatever means works. Once it has its little seed package, you're a goner. Good day! Eric

Crap, I hate these things

OK! Here you go! Are you happy now?!?! Both Christy and Sideon threw this in my direction. Thanks. (Really, I love you guys... I just don't like these kinds of posts. They need to be dirty questions I won't answer 'cause my mom reads my blog.) Eric 3 smells that I love: Shampooed hair Pipe tobacco “Pizza” 3 smells that I hate: Burnt Silly Putty Gasoline hands Dr. Pepper burps 3 jobs that I have had in my life: Pizza Delivery Agent Helpful Hardware Man (before it changed to “Helpful Hardware Folks”) Purveyor of Porn 3 movies that I could watch over and over: Fifth Element Airplane! The Usual Suspects 3 fond memories: The births of our children Christmas days in NY Hiking to Timpanogos cave with La 3 jobs I would love to have: Prolific author Hardware store owner Nightclub owner 3 places I have lived: Wappingers Falls, NY Raleigh, NC Orem, UT (Honorable mention: “inside my shell”) 3 things I like to do: Blog Know useless facts about random things Randomly share useless facts about random things 3 of my favorite foods: Apple (anything) Fig Newtons Sunkist Fruit Gems 3 places I would like to be right now: Lying in a wooded clearing, staring at the stars, contemplating the universe In a hot tub or hot spring Anywhere but here 3 websites I visit daily: Wikipedia Google a new eric 3 things that make me cry: Broken hearts The thought of our kids growing up Going to work 3 friends that I am tagging: Oh Hell! Forget about it! Who HASN’T been tagged yet?

Know Your Blogger: By The Way...

This week's Know Your Blogger profile is an intriguing writer. Having been around the world a bit, living in Sweden, leaving Mormonism somewhere over the ocean, and holding few punches; Montchan has a wealth of things to say. And, we listen. Because we are enthralled by posts about "Pussi Lickin's" or her recent experience with overdressed Swedish Muslims. We just HAVE to read! I give you... KNOW YOUR BLOGGER: By The Way... KYB: How and why did you start blogging? Montchan: Sometime last year some stupid Japanese women’s magazine had a project to feature lives of stupid women married to stupid Japanese, living in Japan and elsewhere. I was selected to be one of those stupid elsewhere women. When the project was over, I started my current blog, because I had nothing better to do with my time. KYB: What do you enjoy about blogging? Dislike about it? Montchan: That you get to write a little every day. That some people don’t write a little every day. And then I have to wait and wait and wait, and leave nasty comments, and sent nasty emails. You know who you are! KYB: What do you read regularly? Montchan: My links, and my links’ links, and some of my links’ links’ links. And South African blogs. And anything in English. I miss books in English. KYB: What do you like to do when you're not blogging? Montchan: Cooking. Definitely cooking. And eating. And spending my good-for-nothing husband’s money. And dreaming of getting away from this shithole in the Great White North. What I like to do, and what I can do are two very different and distinct things. What I do is much more mundane. I try to survive each day without too much mood altering medications. Especially now, when the darkness is coming in the Great White North. KYB: Where would you say you are in the process of recovery from Mormonism? Montchan: I am free from the magical underwear cult of golden plates. Never believed that crap anyway. Just went with the flow, because you can’t do all that much when you’re BIC. I remember laughing my ass off in primary when we were told the old Joe’s story, and telling my poor teacher about people who find diamonds on the beaches in Namibia, but don’t start a church. They sell the rocks instead. I also told my teacher that our maid has visions too, but she doesn’t start a church either. She smokes dagga instead. Needless to say, I was not very popular among my primary friends. KYB: What advice would have you for people trying to deal with leaving the church? Montchan: Like the swoosh shoes ad says, Just Do It. It’s not going to be easy. Follow your heart. If you got as far as to investigate the truth about the church, then deep inside you know it’s all just a bunch of bologna, no matter how thin they slice it. Do what makes YOU happy. Because nobody else can make YOU happy. Not the church, not the scriptures, not your calling… Only you can make YOU happy. KYB: What else do you want to say about your interests, hobbies, career, education, whatever? Montchan: I am stuck here in Northern Sweden. My brain atrophies by the minute. The beer is mediocre, and the booze too expensive. And I definitely do not enjoy shoveling snow. I hate snow. I hate winter. I miss people who speak English and actually understand what is being said back to them. KYB: Where did you come up with the name of your blog? Montchan: I used to overuse this phrase. A lot. Instead of “like, you know…” for me it was “and by the way…” And then Red Hot Chili Peppers came out with their “By The Way” album. Why oh why, dear Anthony, did you have to do this to me??? andIsaythesethingsinthenameofjesuschristamen. Can we eat now?

Genesis 2:1

Read Genesis 1:1 before this post. Genesis 2:1 “And it came to pass that I dwelt in a tent. Actually, it came to pass that I didn’t give a verily, verily crap about the falseness of the Book of Mormon and the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. It did come to pass that I did leave the church, and I did move on with my life. And, I think it did come to pass that I started drinking coffee, but I’m getting way ahead of myself here. Did I say the words, "and it came to pass," yet? 'Cause if not, I should have.” - Me We hadn’t even been in the ward a year when we started our paradigm shift of faith. We weren’t among the most active members, but certainly were nowhere near inactive. Only a small number of our ward probably had an idea of who we were. Among them were close neighbors and members of the primary or bishopric. If any of those in our new ward were asked if we’d had signs of apostasy, they would have probably said no. I imagine our departure from the church was surprising to them, but I’m confident they never lost any sleep over it. As La was reading and learning, she was moving further from the church. At one point, she decided it wasn’t right for her to remain a primary teacher while questioning her faith. We met with the bishop, told him what we were experiencing, and gave the end of 2005 as a deadline for decision concerning La’s calling. As we were expecting, La asked to be released from her calling by the last day of 2005, so there would be little complications with the children and their new classes. That was the last time we attended church – December 30th, 2005. Not long after, we sent in our resignation letter. By January 24th, we had our response stating that our request was an ecclesiastical matter and had been forwarded down to our bishop. By March 27th, 2006, we received a letter from the church telling us the deed was done. While our resignation was official, legally, in January, we were sure it was over with by March. Many people don’t bother to have themselves removed from membership (though your name and information is never purged from their records). I had my own reasons for wanting my name off the membership rolls. First, I didn’t want a guilt trip about how I don’t do my home teaching. Secondly, I don’t want to be considered in the church’s “estimate” of church membership, though I’m sure they’ll continue to count us for many years. Next, as a ward clerk, I was surprised to learn that my parents, who have never been members, had membership record numbers. I didn’t feel it right that they be in the church’s system, even as some kind of reference. I could not support this. Lastly, I did not want my children to be on someone’s list of any kind of activity or fellowshipping situations. If my reasons aren’t enough to completely disconnect from the church, think about these: How often do you hear about other religions using lists of inactive or lost members to work diligently to reactivate them? To your knowledge, what churches actively recruit faithful family members to rat out their less active relatives for reactivation? I was baptized Catholic not long after I was born, and I’ve never had a letter, phone call, or visit from anyone from that church trying to bring me back into the fold. I’m sure they count me as a member, but they leave me alone otherwise. I fully believe that any exmormon at heart should take the effort to become an exmormon on paper as well. You, and those you love, will be better off for it. As many faithful Mormons are apt to believe, I apparently left the church because of sin, or a desire to sin, or because someone had offended me. Perhaps I was tempted to sin, and in my failure, could no longer support a belief system I held to be complete truth. None could be farther from the truth, but events were looming that might make some of the LDS faithful certain I was having issues of morality. While there are many temptations, trials of faith, failures, and successes concerning my Exodus out of the church and my Genesis into reality, I had no idea that my biggest tests were yet to come. I had no idea that coming back into reality would necessitate finding not only new ways of living, but a new Eric altogether. Oh God, Hear the Words of My Mouth: Amen Brutha! Eric

Genesis 1:1

Please read the Exodus series: 1:1, 2:1, 3:1, and 4:1. In my story, Exodus comes BEFORE... Genesis 1:1 "And it came to pass that I did climb up from the pits of Mormonism, reborn into the real world, and it was good." - Me It’s hard for me to say when I left the church in my mind. You see, I can plainly see now that I never converted in my heart. But still, I was mostly interested in being Mormon in words and actions. There were many steps that led me to leaving, but in hindsight, I was leaving piece by piece every Sunday. Take, for instance, when I first started running into little pieces of truth while a gospel doctrine teacher. I ran into the majority of what people use to argue their reasons for leaving the church, but didn’t want to believe that the whole church was false. I rationalized what I had discovered and tucked it away. Now, I can’t imagine that I would have explained off Joseph Smith’s dozens of wives, his tendency to label everything he passed as Nephite or Lamanite remnants, the fact that no one saw any of the plates with their physical eyes, Smith was convinced that the Kinderhook plates were genuine, and that he would just randomly find the most amazing and revealing piece of scripture ever discovered on a freak-show mummy, and know instantly what he was reading only to be refuted by actual scholars years later. It all sounds easy to rationalize, right? Later, after having moved to Utah, I was told that Jesus wanted me to shave my goatee to be the ward clerk. I was told I didn’t want to be a negative influence on the youth. One day, months after having been called as the ward clerk (and still sporting the goatee), I stopped a young man who I knew by name and family, and asked him if he recognized me and knew who I was. He didn’t. I’d seen him every Sunday for months as he waited for the bishop to start their priesthood meeting. The youth doesn’t give a rat’s ass about the ward clerk. Also as clerk, I was made privy to a lot of the operational aspects of the ward, knew all the dirt, who was sick, who was crazy, and who was sinning. It was mind numbing, having to deal with episodes such as the one where I recorded minutes for a Council of Love for one man who had cheated on his wife and had an affinity for pornography. They made him look like such a pile of dung, and I had to write up his paperwork. I didn’t know he had been disfellowshipped and nearly excommunicated (he refused to accept church discipline at first). And I was his lazy, uncaring home teacher. Again as clerk, I was asked to talk to the bishop one morning (my second as clerk). He told me it had come to his attention from one of the sisters that my wife was not wearing her garments, and was wearing unworthy clothing. I told him he should talk to my wife. He wouldn’t, because I was the one with the testicles. I wish I had had the balls to wake up right there, tell him to shove it up his self-righteous ass, and leave the church. Instead, he simply told me she had been considered for callings and wouldn’t be able to take those callings because she was not wearing her garments. In Bishopric meeting he told the councilors and secretary that my wife couldn’t hold any callings for a while “because of that matter we discussed.” As if the fact that the bishopric, in my absence, had discussed my wife’s underwear were not enough, in Ward Council following Bishopric meeting, he told the young women’s president that she needed to find someone else for a calling because, “sister [La] isn’t worthy at this time.” Last year, as we were struggling with the church, I found my minutes where I plainly wrote down the line: “Bishop [Prick] says my wife is unworthy.” All this I compartmentalized and tucked away. I wasn’t enjoying church anymore. I was desperate to not be there. During Sunday School and Priesthood, I would hope that our newborn son would be cranky so I could walk him through the halls, avoiding class. I just didn’t know how to describe what I was doing, though I can define it now. I wasn’t just avoiding some boring class – I was avoiding further indoctrination and the rot that was growing inside my brain. Some days, I would load up our son in the van and drive around our part of town, trying to get lost. As it happens, I was really trying to find my way. I didn’t have long to wait. La and her sister were curious about some things, and though semi-inactivity, became more open to different ways of thinking. They started reading, researching, digging deeper, and finding answers. At first, I didn’t know what to expect; I had no idea where it was going. As things progressed, I quickly realized things were changing. I found myself in an open environment for reading some of the things I had read all those years ago. I rediscovered facts about the church I had turned away from, and allowed myself to think and react. La was struggling with her calling, and had decided to be released from her calling by the end of 2005. By then, our exodus from the church had been set in motion. And thus began our rebirth into the real world, and our genesis into exmormonism. Amen Eric

So far, no nice

I took this entire week off. Originally, we were going to go somewhere for the week, but many circumstances (including our daughter's birthday, as described on La's blog) kept us home. You know what? I really enjoy hanging around the house!

With the exception on yesterday, I've had lots of time to write, I've done a few things around the house, got most of my laundry done (remeber, I wear dress clothes for work), and I've ben able to relax. It's been VERY nice.

I have a job interview tomorrow. It's in the same industry I'm in now, but could pay twice as much as my current job. While the industry I work in is a love/hate relationship, I would like it more as a 9 to 5 type of job where I can work from home or from the office. This is one of those possibilites.

I'm stuck on the PDA cell to post my blogs while the birthday party kids are all here. Later today I will post the next chapter in my journey out of mormondom.

Eric

Dinner with the mormons

Last night we had dinner with the mormon neighbors. The evening was so uneventful, neither La or I felt the need to comment on it. They gracefully danced around the church all night. In fact, only La ever mentioned the church.

I wish I had more to tell you.

Eric

Know Your Blogger: Rebecca... and all that entails

This week's Know Your Blogger profile is one of the smartest, funniest, greenest, and best looking bloggers I know. She has the rare distinction of being someone I've met in person, so I know these things. Seriously, if you spend all of three seconds reading her blog you will see why many of us are entranced by her words. And her good looks. And now... Know Your Blogger: Rebecca… and all that entails KYB: How and why did you start blogging? Rebecca: I started blogging by following the instructions on blogspot. It was easy. Mainly I started because I'm narcissistic and wanted a place where I could talk endlessly about myself. KYB: What do you enjoy about blogging? Dislike about it? Rebecca: I really enjoy writing ALL ABOUT ME. And also the greenness of my blog. It's cool. I dislike that I can't figure out how to get my blog to post in a serif font. KYB: What do you read regularly? Rebecca: DVD covers and cereal boxes. And sometimes books, as long as there are LOTS of pictures. I read some blogs - the ones I link to, and also plenty of others that I haven't gotten around to linking. If you comment on my blog, I probably read yours. I love Dooce and Self-Portrait As. Because they are awesome. I'm not mentioning the others that I love because I'm bound to leave some important ones out, much like Hilary Swank with her Oscar speech. KYB: What do you like to do when you're not blogging? Rebecca: When I'm not blogging I like to drink coffee and shop online. And also I like to read all about celebrities and try to model my life after theirs. I have jewelry and bumper stickers that say WWJD, which means "What Would Jessica Do?" People say Jessica Simpson isn't as good as Britney, but that's obviously not true because you don't see bumper stickers that say WWBD, do you? KYB: Where would you say you are in the process of recovery from Mormonism? Rebecca: I don't think I'll ever be recovered until God shows the real translation of the golden plates so my mom can see that Joseph Smith totally didn't even know Reformed Egyptian. KYB: What advice would have you for people trying to deal with leaving the church? Rebecca: Drink coffee and flip people off. If people ask if you left because you were offended, tell them, "Hey, just because she's the bishop's wife doesn't mean she's telling the truth! She totally misinterpreted what she saw. It's so not my fault they're getting divorced. Anyway, Bill Clinton says it doesn't count." KYB: What else do you want to say about your interests, hobbies, career, education, whatever? Rebecca: My most time-consuming hobby is prevaricating. I'd like to turn it into a career, but with no formal training or education I haven't found much of a market. My other major hobby is bugging people about which cell phone to buy. It's much more complicated than I had anticipated, and I find myself completely paralyzed with the fear of choosing the wrong one. KYB: Where did you come up with the name of your blog? Rebecca: I saw the words in a tortilla chip and took it as a sign.

Exodus 4:1

Thank you for your patience and interest in my exit story. I could have made this much longer (so pray to God in gratitude). I could spend years listing inconsistencies with the church. I ask you to do your own research. Keep an open mind, and use your own two eyes instead of your spiritual vision. Use your mind, and not blind faith in someone who tells you the church is true based on their own blind faith. If you ever have questions, feel free to e-mail me. If I don't have the answers, perhaps we can find them together. Please read Exodus 1:1, 2:1, and 3:1 before reading the final installment. Exodus: 4:1 Elijah Abel is minor proof of the church’s true history, but the reason I knew I had to leave the church. I knew nothing of his existence until I came across him in a book from the public library – written by devout members and BYU professors – detailing famous Mormons in history. Among them is Elijah Abel, and he is the reason I had had enough of the LDS church. Elijah Abel was a former slave who had joined the church in 1832. Joseph Smith highly favored Abel, and called him to be one of his personal bodyguards (along with John D. Lee and Porter Rockwell). Smith was noted as stating that Abel had a “white soul,” and because of his inner-purity, Abel was ordained to the priesthood. Abel was present for many of Smith’s more famous events and trials. After Smith was killed, Abel moved west with the majority of the Saints, where he was something of a thorn in Brigham Young’s side. Abel felt that holding the priesthood was enough to allow him to receive the endowment in the temple; not to mention the fact that he was a member of the Seventy, labored on several missions to Canada, and spent extra time in the construction of the Salt Lake temple. Young denied him entrance into the temple for some time, standing behind the “curse of the black skin” portion of the gospel. Most likely, Young was a bigot who either didn’t care for African descendents (proven to be true), or just didn’t like Elijah Abel’s close bond with Joseph Smith (also proven to be true). As an aside, Abel’s own children and grandchildren were ordained to the priesthood. Odd, given that the priesthood couldn’t be given to those of African heritage until after the resurrection, and after the Bible Abel’s descendents had been given the opportunity to receive the priesthood. Further, early church leaders interpreted scripture so seriously that no man with even a drop of Negro blood in his viens could be given the priesthood. While some of Elijah Abel’s descendents were able to pass as “white” in color, they easily had enough “Negro blood in their veins” to fall under the priesthood ban. Almost equally interesting, to me, is the church’s official statement concerning Elijah Abel: nothing. I know that Elijah Abel is a minor blip in the church’s history. Today, he is a mere footnote, or only a minor embarrassment to church leaders. As it stands, he essentially never existed. For me, Elijah Abel is an indication of bigger things. Abel is proof that something larger is at work here. He is a small inconsistency with church doctrine and church history. He will never be mentioned in the Sunday school lesson manual. He will only come through to a small number who have a gospel doctrine instructor who is crafty enough to drop him into a lesson, or too stupid to not follow the curriculum as indicated by the church Correlation Committee. Elijah Abel will likely fall to the dustbin of interesting LDS trivia, given time. For me, Elijah Abel is plain proof that the church hides its history. In fact, the church does it really well. He is also evidence of the false nature of the church. If Heavenly Father is unchanging, and says anyone with a drop of Negro blood in their veins is barred from holding the priesthood until after the resurrection and the seed of Abel (brother of Cain) are given the choice of obtaining the priesthood, then either the millennium had already happened, God changed his unchanging (and timeless, ever-knowing) mind, Joesph Smith was wrong to have ordained Abel and led members astray, or everything the church claims to be true concerning its heavenly mandate is completely false. The ban on “blacks and the priesthood” was lifted in 1978, but means nothing to me. It is merely a “change in times” from a very earth-bound and earth-led church. Joseph Smith and early church leaders, most notably Brigham Young, were very detailed about how the gospel is and always will be. Multiple records were made of most of their teachings. Also, the inconsistency of Elijah Abel is only the tip of the most massive iceberg ever known. Everything about the LDS church is fabricated, invented, or borrowed from other religions, scriptures, and popular ideas. Joseph Smith as we know him today is a Technicolor adaptation of an enigmatic, entrancing, homely, and unique character from 19th century American society. He didn’t look like Kevin Costner or have a flawless reputation, as he is often portrayed. He was an ultimate con artist. The biggest con of his life, aside from the millions he has duped into believing the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints is true, would be the con he pulled on himself. Of his strongest believers and supporters, the most loyal was himself. Belief and confidence in oneself is the number one attribute of any successful salesman. Joseph Smith was the founder, first CEO, CFO, and salesman of the year for the LDS corporation. At one time, I was sold on Joseph Smith, just as many more of us have been. I can’t return the merchandise, but I can easily throw it in the trash bin. With vision, intelligent and thoughtful research, and the occasional pain in the ass neighbor, you too can move on with your life. For those of us who have left, or are leaving, I wish you only the best in your new life. For those who wish to leave, be strong. For those who disagree with what I’ve had to say, I challenge you to prove the church to be true. I will accept no less than irrefutable fact, even if you have to bring Jesus down from heaven to prove it to me, because I have stronger evidence that proves the mormon church is false. Thank you for reading. Amen. Eric

Exodus 3:1

Read Exodus 1:1 and 2:1. Exodus 3:1 As La and I moved to Utah, there was some notion that I might prosper in the gospel while living in Utah. Or, I might find everything to be so much easier as I spent my days with only two families to home teach, nearly every neighbor a member, and being able to stand on the ward’s boundary and not only see the other side of my ward, but two three other wards and five different stakes at the same time. Needless to say, we were both a little overworked by all the wheel-shouldering we had done in North Carolina, and the move provided us with a little break. But only a little. Almost immediately we’d been dumped into the Utah church’s “inspired” church calling system. Several people conducted informal interviews disguised as greetings or conversation, and members of the bishopric visited on a couple occasions. The membership clerk probably had our records requested before we unloaded the moving truck. While we often held multiple callings back east, here there was an abundance of members for key callings, and most everyone was already in place. With my callings, I thought I might be called into the Elder’s Quorum presidency or placed in the Sunday school as a teacher. Where the church everywhere else has a hard time keeping callings filled, the Utah church had to make up new callings to keep everyone busy. I was quickly called as the Elder’s Quorum Emergency Preparedness Chair. If not bad enough, while being set apart, the presidency droped some materials in my hand and told me I had my first assignment: coordinate the annual emergency preparedness fair for the ward, an Elder’s Quorum tradition. With a month to prepare, and one person willing to help. Thanks a ton, Utah church. I quickly discovered that while the church everywhere else was more focused on the power of the gospel message, the Utah church was more focused on getting everything done. The Utah church is the corporate headquarters of the organization, while the mission field church is the sales force of the company. Operationally, every department has the same procedures and mechanisms for daily function. Fundamentally, the human resources, sales, public relations, management, and loss prevention departments all have their own, different function. Realizing the church was simply a big corporation made me sick. I started to swear again, find contention in things, and sinned in my heart in ways I hadn’t imagined in years. I was quickly getting hung up on one of the many aspects of the church that leads Utah members to leave: the people. People run this church, not Jesus or any other imaginary or ethereal entity. The church is an organization run by professional administrative volunteers. But for me, things were getting worse. At some point I again found myself without calling. While feeling the physical pains of Elder’s Quorum lessons, I thought at great length about teaching again. I love to teach people, a fact which still surprises me. I was working for a local state college, surrounded by education all the time, and aspiring to finish college. I had the teaching bug. I wanted to teach Elder’s Quorum. And then I got the call. The stake president wanted to talk to me. I immediately thought I’d be called as the new Elder’s Quorum president (knowing the current one was going to be released soon). As I sat down with the counselors in the stake, I was shocked to learn they wished to call me to be the ward clerk. As the stake president was handling another matter, I chatted with the counselors concerning the ward clerk calling. Finally able to join us, the stake president catches up with the conversation and starts to recover the job duties of the calling. And then, the turning point in my “problem with the people” reasons for leaving the church. The stake president asks me if I remember my missionary grooming standards. I was never a missionary. I was already married when I converted. The closest I’d ever been to a missionary (aside from countless hours of the missionaries in my home, sheltering themselves from the pressures of their missionary lives) was a day I took a personal day and proselytized with the missionaries back in North Carolina. Telling him I didn’t go on a mission, my very words, his face changed to concern. In retrospect, I believe he thought I had elected to not go on a mission. I knew he didn’t know crap about me, my conversion, or my background – I was a name turned in as a candidate for a calling. So, not remembering missionary grooming standards that were never mine, he proceeds to tell me that I will be expected to follow them, including trimming off my goatee and shaving every day. In his very words, “our savior, Jesus Christ, expects you to be clean shaven.” This was odd, given I had never heard about a policy of no facial hair on anyone other than the bishop. Plus, I have a great affinity for my goatee. I left the meeting wanting to think (and pray) about the calling before committing, which they had suggested. When I told La she was beside herself. She had seen me completely clean-shaven a couple times, and liked my goatee about as much as I did. I spent the next day thinking about it, and even prayed. Whenever I prayed, I would take whatever thought popped into my head as my answer. I heard, no, do not accept the calling. Shaving is not important. I called and left a message for the stake president, telling him I had decided not to take the calling. The next day, I made sure I was in the bathroom at the time where ward business was conducted. I was having more issue with the whole thing, and felt like I didn’t want to be there. I DID have to use the bathroom, too. Upon my return, someone was speaking. At the end of the talk, the stake second counselor stood before the ward and called me to be the ward clerk, claiming he had forgotten. Not wanting to look like an ass, I didn’t say anything, though I didn’t vote for myself. After sacrament I spoke candidly with the bishop, telling him about the beard issue and my phone rejection. He asked me to give it a shot anyway, saying it wasn’t that big of a deal. After my one-on-one with the bishop, the stake president came in, apologized for not returning my call, thanked me for accepting the calling anyway, and reminded me to shave. I never shaved, though I did work as the ward clerk. The hours sucked. The occasional reminder about shaving was comical. Meeting new people and learning the ward was interesting. Knowing the dirt about everyone was extremely cool. I made it through almost a year and a half, and two bishops. In all that time, the fact that the church was an organization and not a religion was cemented in my mind. Time moved on, and we moved out. We had other issues with the ward and bishopric, which both La and I have blogged about before. Mostly, we wanted our own place, and found a house in town. We again found ourselves in a ward with lots of dutiful members, and La even had a calling. And then, La’s digression from mormonism began. She started to wonder and question – and read. She read a lot, much more than I could have with my job (the one I have now) taking up all my time. She would mention things she’d read about, most of which I had read years ago. Except this time, I was disillusioned with the church and its members, and open to thoughtful investigation without fear of sin. I started to read again, when I could. I reread a lot of conclusive information that showed the church wasn’t what it claimed to be. While open to these things, I wasn’t ready to leave the church just yet. I started to come across new information, and more detailed descriptions of thing I had read years ago. The Internet had made information more accessible. I came across many things, but one simple piece was the catalyst for my logical reason for leaving the church. Sorry, this ended up in need of breaking into a fourth piece. You'll get over it. Eric

Poetry Spam: Callie Hartman

I've been a life-long huge fan of poetry. I've read a lot in my life, though not quite as much as I used to these days. I just don't have time to delve into the works of some of my favorite poets these days. Instead, I've signed up for a service that sends poetry to me. Today's piece was amazing, and I just had to share it with you. Its power is beyond description, so nothing I say can add to this wonderful prose. I give you... attributable is not known whether docosanol passes into breast milk Although by Callie Hartman

The use of more conventional output devices will increase to drive people to lock up information, with access for a price. interact with other users & information providers. We can assume

with each other. Words in Japanese is currently translated into opportunities for new and non-mainstream art to find an audience.

all, violence in the media is a good thing because it teaches amount of people from becoming part of this new community for is a process of creativity and satisfaction of discovering new

Although some electronic galleries will probably develop their book in a library, may be even easier. There are databases

systems where I was once blind to them, in every facet of our convenience, cellular phones would be obsolete and there would be through around the term "interactive," in order to confuse people

its craft. To eliminate the craftmanship you eliminate the chooses to live in a smooth transition, positive vibe, caring,

power transmission, radar information and satellites that handle environment. Digital text is eternal and immortal, stored in original work, thus creating greater demand and marketability.

important industry of the future. This industry will provide researchers will be able to work together and tackle the world s

evolution of computer technology it seems to be the next medium The increases in technology have made communicating in the their own space when it can be absolutely any space at all. You

a blind totalitarian control over the mechanics or structure of interpretations are artistically valid. Chemical imaging systems

in real time. The display's resolution can be changed to any Manipulation and digital production of visual artwork provides home -catapulting into a nucleic role which the household could

like Autocad and Minicad are doing to the design field, even the far as I know, and what I am doing within it, as a part of it so

a person who conceives ideas and then attempts to communicate of the resources available to the media and because of this is augmenting the elimination of office as the workplace. People

In addition to writing poetry, Callie Hartman works in the mass-marketing industry selling "@ED DRUGS" such as Viagra, Cialis, and Levitra.

Exodus 2:1

Read Exodus 1:1 for part one. Exodus 2:1 The first week was a blur. All I did was read the manual, almost word for word. The kids were pissed off, bored, and not even paying attention. Only a few of the girls partially paid attention. Between the Sunday School President and the kids, I was extremely upset. I was determined not to have another lesson like that first one. I glanced through each new lesson sometime through the week, and prepared my lesson Saturday night. I was quickly dissatisfied with the lesson manual. I was told that all we needed to know was presented in the lesson manual. Each lesson had a theme, presented supporting information, suggested some scriptural references, and occasionally called for role-plays or visuals to show the class. This was extremely boring for all of us. It was specifically expected that we keep to the manual, but with my curious nature, I often found myself reading beyond the scripture references, researching further information online, or reading sites maintained by regular members who felt they knew something. For the most part, it was reading and thinking that started me on the eventual path out of the church. In the church, most everything was separated into four-year cycles. Book of Mormon one year, Doctrine and Covenants & Church History next, followed by the Old Testament, and rounded out with the New Testament. The year I started was Doctrine and Covenants with Church History, and I absolutely loved it. I was the closest I ever came to a true believer. I was fascinated by the history of the church, and D&C is mostly history. The divinely inspired nature of Joseph Smith and the founding of the church enthralled me. It resonated with some of my notions that Heavenly Father has his hands in all works from the grand design of the church all the way to my own life. While my testimony was hitting its highest point, I constantly had to stop myself from reading too far into things for the sake of my faith. As I browsed the web for church history, I came across multiple first visions, spiritual vision versus physical vision, Brigham young’s discriminatory and tyrannical nature, Joseph Smith’s bigamous ways, the similarities between the Book of Mormon and other works, and even ran into the chimerical story of how the Book of Abraham came to be. I didn’t find this information in one grand sweep as many do, but slowly over a year of teaching classes. I would often come across something, start reading, and back out of a site because I knew it was dangerous anti-Mormon writing. Like an addict, I would tease my senses with a taste, move to something else out of fear, and eventually find my way back to the trough of information, reading until I felt like I was about to go over the edge and fall into hell. Interestingly, I was integrating some of the things I learned into my lessons. Not the hard truth, mind you, but the speculative stuff such as the Three Nephites, the nature of seer stones, polygamy, and the nature of blood after resurrection. Some of it was weird, and some of it questionable. During this time, I had gained a hold on most of the class. I had dissention, digression, and short focus, but often had their undivided attention for short periods of time. They were curious about some of the same things I had become entangled in. I actually enjoyed teaching the class, even though I could tell the kids would always rather be somewhere else despite any interest. Interestingly, after a while, La was also teaching them as their early-morning seminary teacher, though they were on a different subject year than I was. I was facing anti-Mormon literature head-on by the end of that year. I was able to read things and easily discredit them as total bunk. Somewhere in my mind, I knew. I knew it was a fraud. I had invested too much time in the church by then, had thought it was good for my family. I was tucking all the doubt away, focusing on the fascinating aspects of the gospel instead of the inconsistencies. At some point La had received permission to go to the CES conference that year, paid for by the stake, and I was able to go to Utah with her. In one class I attended, a Ricks professor gave a convincing lesson about Isaiah, and how Joseph Smith was the stem of Jesse. I was completely convinced of Joseph Smith’s destiny. That man made it all sound so true, so easy if you would only just look and listen. That class temporarily tucked a lot of my doubts away, and I stopped sneaking peeks at anti-Mormon literature for a time. Then, it all came crashing down. The year changed, and we started the Old Testament. I had to increase my reading tenfold just to keep up with it. Suddenly, God had changed his voice; he was harder to read and more complex. And I ran into awkward scripture, such as the brief mentioning of Nephilum in Genesis. Joseph Smith had a lot to say about the giants that roamed the earth before the great flood, and many prophets had talked about how the flood was vital to wash the vile Nephilum out of existence. Nephilum is a Hebrew word for “giant” and the exact meaning of the translation has always been in question. Smith went into detail beyond what others had thought about the “Sons of God,” even ascribing some hills to their creation. It reeked of complete crap. Reading further, I found information that claims the name “Nephi” was likely derived from the word “nephilum.” In speculation, an expert in the Hebrew language might recognize the word “nephi” to mean “giant” as well. From there I began to look further into names, places, situations in the Book of Mormon. It became obvious that either a lot of it was coincidentally inspired, or it was all completely fabricated. At that point, I completely shut down the more rational part of my mind, compartmentalized that I had found, and moved on. Not long after, La and I moved to Utah. From there, it would be a few years before anything I had unexpectedly learned would come into light. And unbeknownst to me, I still had much to learn. The conclusion tomorrow. I promise. Amen. Eric

Exodus 1:1

READ ALSO: Laced... With Mormonism Exodus 1:1 While conversing with new friends over e-mail, it occurred to me that I don’t recall ever writing about my exodus from the LDS church. So, I did a Google search on Formons, Epik Speaks His Mind, and a new eric, and nothing that stood out as a clear, concise exit story. I recently posted a condensed version of my entry into the church, so perhaps it’s time for the rest of the story. I had a few warnings over the years – signs that I should have avoided the church. My reasons for joining the church were my own, and no one else’s, but were not as spiritual as they were practical. I needed some sort of focus and structure in my life, not to mention exposure to social situations. Not long after I became a member, someone told me that I needed to allow my testimony to form and grow. As if a testimony were a plant you raise from seed to hedge. As hard as I tried, I didn’t find my testimony. So, in order to form one, I made one up. I fell right in line with the “I know this church is true” lemmings. I even bore a testimony, once. While I was sincerely grateful for having La in my life, every other aspect of my testimony was faked. I simply followed the script that had been created by those who came before me. I moved on, found some aspects of the gospel I could grab onto and call my testimony. I’m sure La knew it was faked, but I fooled everyone else. I remember one member telling me how I’d probably be a bishop in a few years. Others would add my conversion to their testimony. I was one of the most successful ward projects / investigators they’d had in years. I enjoyed the camaraderie, the attention, and how people were affected by my strong stance for the lord. The one I pretended to have. Over the years I’d been uncomfortable. If it wasn’t the chairs, it was the sappiness, or all the work those few who came to church had to do. Many of us had multiple callings, about 6 or more families to teach, and handfuls of missionary splits. They put me to work even before I was baptized. I didn’t know I had signed up for a volunteer service as well, and I was overwhelmed by it all. And I still didn’t have a grasp on the gospel, which was the most uncomfortable thing of all. I had never read the book of mormon, and really knew little about it except the Cliff’s Notes version that was fed to us on Sundays. I always assumed I’d be figured out in time, but somehow, I had fooled everyone, even myself. I started to get into the gospel thing. I had been given a handful of callings that included committee chairs in elder’s quorum as well as EQ secretary (twice). The calling that would change everything, in time, was gospel doctrine teacher. One day I was informed that I was to be called as a gospel doctrine teacher for the 16 and 17-year-olds. I was warned that I might have to pick up one of the other classes on occasion. I showed up a few days later for church, and right after sacrament they pulled me aside and asked me to start that day. While being handed the lesson manual, I told them I wasn’t ready. I was told to read from the manual. I walk into class with a baby in tow, a dead man walking. That first week I taught the older kids. There were the usual 18-year-old holdouts as well, an unexpected and unwanted surprise. About six kids, as memory serves. That was the last week the other instructor even bothered to come teach his class, because from the next week on, for about a year and a half, I taught gospel doctrine to all the kids from 12 to 17, plus the 18-year-olds. With most of the boys acting like little assholes… In the smallest room in the building… While this in itself could lead anyone to abandon the church, I enjoyed it. It wasn’t the kids that made me question; it was the lesson manual, and preparing my lessons. More tomorrow… Amen :) Eric

Laced... with mormonsim

A couple weeks ago a stranger knocks on our door. It was Sunday, our day of rest from the travails of the night before. I had been taking a nap, was dressed in my Sunday scrubbiest, when the ominous knock resonated through our sacred abode. I threw on my hat (as I was scruffy, so was my hair), and answered the door in my groggy state. It was a Mormon. More specifically, it was a neighbor. A NEW neighbor, from down the street. I had noticed someone moving into a house around the corner about a month or two before. What was strange was that he was, according to his story, walking down the neighborhood introducing himself, meeting his neighbors. He used that word - neighbors. The man was clean cut, no facial hair, short hair, glasses, and a typical white short-sleeved shirt. It looked like he had been dressed for church, and was now in his "relaxing" Sunday clothes. He introduced himself, and almost immediately started asking questions about us such as our names, kids, how long we've been here, etc. I almost thought it was some con artist fishing for information, or someone trying to sell us something. Being Sunday, I pretty much figured he was a dutiful church member. My wife invited him in. He sat and talked a while, mentioned his wife and their newborn. He suggested La go walking with his wife. By the time he left, I had a pretty good hunch about what was going on. We're being fellowshipped, and probably by our new unofficial home teacher. Sure, he could be a friendly neighbor. But he mentioned he'd been walking down the street and meeting people, and as he walked home he passed all the houses I could see from our front stoop. He wasn't talking to others. He was talking to us. While we were on our recent trip he called to invite us to dinner, which we were unable to do because of my work schedule. Weirdness averted, for now. Tonight, he stopped by with brownies. Brownies laced with mormonism. You can smell it, even with the aluminum foil covering them. The steam coming off the plate just wreaks of the falseness of the church. A total and complete blech. So, yeah, we've been invited to dinner on Tuesday. Eric

Once More, With Feeling

Saturday, Gordon B. Hinckley, president of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, in the final address of the Priesthood Session of General Conference, gave a talk containing the following excerpt: "In revelation, the lord has mandated that his people get all the education they can. He’s been very clear about this. But there is a troubling trend taking place. Elder Ralph Kerr, church Commissioner of Education, advises me that in the United States nearly 73% of young women graduate from high school, compared to 65% of young men. Young men are more likely to drop out of school than young women. Approximately 61% of young men enroll in college immediately following high school, compared to 72% for young women. In 1950, 70% of those enrolled in college were males, and 30% were females. By 2010, projections estimate 40% will be males and 60% will be females. Women have earned more bachelors degrees than men every year since 1982, and more masters degrees since 1986. It is plainly evident from these statistics that young women are exceeding young men in pursuing educational programs. And so I say to you young men, rise up and discipline yourself to take advantage of educational opportunities. Do you wish to marry a girl whose education has been far superior to your own? We speak of being equally yoked, that applied, I think, to the matter of education." [emphasis added] In his droll, unfeeling voice, he managed to take a generalized statistic, apply it directly to the youth of the church without any concern for pertinence, and play the male superiority ego card, all in the course of less than two minutes. There is some discussion on this topic on the message boards at exmormon.org. While I found this surprising, I think I’ll be more surprised by the lack of reaction over such a statement by faithful Mormons. Even while in the church, this statement would have struck me as odd and very ignorant. Now as an exmormon, this is about as absurd as it gets. Interestingly, the entire session can be viewed on their web site. I was more amused by the ASL translator’s actions than anything else, as Hinckley seems stiff compared to him. I invite anyone wishing for a good laugh to watch it. Conference has my creative bile flowing… Eric

A lesson from history

[Note: slight edits and inclusions have been made from this post's original publication. - Eric ] In 1620 John Carver boarded a ship, usually used to transport wine, headed for America. Carver had chartered the ship himself, some three years prior. His intention was to transport his separatist sect of primitive Christians from the Netherlands, maintaining their English identity while fleeing the Church of England, to the New World. Carver and 101 colonists founded New Plimoth in late 1620. Carver passed away the following year, leaving a struggling colony of religious pilgrims who barely survived their first few years. Carver’s legacy, through the separatist sect he led to America, helped change the face of the North American continent, and cementing the Mayflower as a source of ancestry for millions of Americans. The colony of Maryland was founded for the purpose of providing a shelter of religious tolerance for Catholic Englishmen, who were generally discriminated or persecuted by the Anglican Church in their homeland. Chartered by the Calvert family, the house of the Lord of Baltimore, the colony was a rare and short-lived refuge from religious intolerance. Several time during it’s infancy, Maryland was either entirely pro-tolerance or anti-Catholic, depending on which majority was in power. After a power change in England, Catholicism was outlawed in Maryland until after the Revolutionary War. By the 1660s, Niew Amsterdam had become one of the most religiously tolerant colonies in the New World. Founded by the Dutch for the purpose of expanding their trade operations along the North River, the colony was both a financial endeavor as well as a colonial one. Over the years, several religious groups had sought refuge through, and occasionally without, the sanction of Amsterdam. In more than one case, a band of Jewish settlers persecuted in Europe fled to Niew Amsterdam. Many Huguenots, French Calvinist separatists who had issues with the Catholic church, relocated to the Niew Netherland territory. Many moved north along the North River, now known as the Hudson, and settled into the wilderness to make a new life after years of religious persecution. Among them was my own ancestor. Incidentally, many of my ancestors were Dutch colonists, Calvinist refugees, English settlers, and even Mayflower passengers. There have been a multitude of religions, races, affiliations, and professions among my ancestors. I, like many, am a direct product of someone’s act of faith from hundreds of years ago. In modern times, I was a religious pioneer in my own right. I had become a Mormon, or Latter Day Saint – a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. Like my Huguenot ancestor, I had made a decision that would affect thousands of my own descendants, and possibly cement the restored gospel of the new dispensation through the ages. So much for providence. I didn’t bother to look into my own personal history until after joining the church. Some family members, including my mother, had done some research over the years. I spent a lot of time on my own ancestry, even finding the link between our line and one single man who decided to risk everything in the New World, bringing his wife and nine-year-old son. To this day I am amazed that their son even survived. I am extremely grateful he did, since he was an only child. His own son also had only one child, a son. They sacrificed everything, and found a new life that would produce ten more generations of descendants - and counting. I discovered a lot of correlation between my ancestors and my own journey into the LDS faith. I also found a lot of commonality between what the Huguenots and early Mormons had to endure. I decided this had been divinely designed, and I had a huge responsibility. Only one problem: I don’t like the LDS church. I became disenchanted with it. I’ve since left the church, as has my wife and our children. There will be no great line of Saints after me. I will not be the father of Mormonism in my family. And now, this is a wonderful thing to know. In all my pride in history, and in all that I’ve learned about those who came before us, I’ve found a common practice in the founding colonies, early states, and modern nation of tolerance of religions without unilateral support of one sect over another. There are hundred of stories about early colonies of this country concerning people who fled old-world views of religious absolutism. This nation, while founded in religiousness, was also a solace for those who had been bullied, taxed, hated, killed, and driven out of their homelands because of a simple affiliation and belief. These stories are all the foundation for the First Amendment of the Constitution of the United States of America. One of the most powerful things I’ve learned about the LDS church is its inconsistency with American religious movement. Of the colonies, towns, cities, and states founded by religious or religiously minded groups, none are as awkwardly biased as Utah. I believe this is not because Utah was founded only less than two hundred years ago where others were founded over three hundred years ago. This is because of the basic unacceptance and intolerance for other religions. Mormons are counted among the most persecuted of religious sects. Much of it, unfortunately, they brought upon themselves by their tendency to welcome potential future insiders while excluding obvious outsiders at the same time. Mormons are an inside group, with secrets, and ideas about people outside of the loop and outside of the religion. On a fundamental level, they cannot accept other religions, simply in the fact that other religions are wrong regardless of what its adherents believe. The church has spent a lot of time spinning facts around to their favor, especially concerning their fundamental belief that they are the only sanctioned church in existence. We are constantly reminded of who is really at the head of the church, even if only to reinforce earthly leadership in a veiled comparison to Godliness. The church has fostered a general sense of intolerance for other religions through its “only true church” stance, claim of “pieces of truth” among other religions, and overzealous drive to convert others to the Mormon way of life. For many, yet not for all, the only acceptable “gentile” is one that might be willing to accept the gospel truths as defined by the LDS church itself. Many Mormons have become intolerant merely because they believe they're right and everyone else is wrong. While they may have had their own moments of evil over the years, Mormons aren't out bullying, taxing, hating, killing, or driving people out. They do, however, make a science of exclusion. They do not forget that the founders of the church were hated and even killed for their beliefs, and make every effort to remind outsiders of this when found appropriate. There is a subtle, yet damaging, policy of self-pedestalling which has fostered an environment of intolerance among Mormon culture. For example, the state of Utah is predominately Mormon (and yet there are areas that are well mixed among Mormons and Non-Mormons). Mormons comprise of a large majority through the state. This is to be expected, having been founded by LDS church leaders. But still, Maryland has never been predominately Catholic, and Massachusetts doesn’t claim its religious majority to be Pilgrim Anglican separatists who believe in a primitive Christian faith. In fact, these places held majorities for only short periods of time, if at all. What is different between other states and Utah? Tolerance is different. While Mormons are generally tolerant of other religions, one would have trouble finding laws, social expectations, or common ideals in the state of Utah that don’t benefit a Mormon majority. Recently, Senator Orin Hatch introduced a bill that benefits Utah Mormons, and the LDS church, more than any other group in the nation. He has created, lobbied, and helped pass a bill that allows those in bankruptcy to continue to pay tithing, in response to a recent judicial decision that favors creditors over religious tithes and donations in bankruptcy cases. I find it highly indicative of the level at which the church, most often through its members, forces changes which benefits itself the most. Utah usually has the highest rate of bankruptcy, and is easily the church's largest source of tithing income in North America. The chances of a Utah Mormon being protected under bankruptcy laws while still willing to pay tithes are very high. And with this bill, now headed for the House, the church can obtain more of its hard-earned tithing money from one of its highest demographic groups. Popular belief in Utah is Mormon-slanted. For instance, where else would there be months of bickering about a church purchasing a strip of land owned by a government, such as what happened the last few years in Salt Lake City concerning Main Street Plaza? Where else would the local government bend over backwards for any church’s benefit? Why would any government consider selling part of a downtown capital street to a church? Where else would laws that promote Mormon ideals and beliefs persist even in this day and age? Where else would people ask you what “ward you go to” without even batting an eye over whether you’re Mormon or not? Where else would one go to buy food storage racking systems, all-white dress clothes, or knee-length shorts, in the same shopping center? There’s no place like Utah, of course. Where I was once proud of my commonality with my ancestors, as I blazed my way through new territories and experiences, cementing a life of comfort for my own progeny, I now find a sense of gratitude that they went through so much so I could live a life of choice. I’ve not lost my search of uncharted territory, providing a path for those who will come after me – in fact, quite the opposite. I hope to have guided my family away from the LDS church for many generations to come. I, too, am the pilgrim for the next generation. All of us are. Allow others to believe as they may – but don’t force anyone from your neighbor to your children into a system of beliefs that profess a claim of superiority, thereby alienating anyone who simply wishes to lead their own life. Let each human be the judge of what is right, just, or acceptable. Each of us cherish the ability to chose our own destinies, and help guide future ones. None of us would want someone determining our own fates without deciding for ourselves, and I sincerely hope that we allow those who come after us to do the same. And that concludes our history lesson for today. Don't forget your homework. Eric

Know Your Blogger: Sideon's Sanctuary

This week's Know Your Blogger profile is easily one of the most captivating of bloggers. He's not only one of the most interesting and varied writers among blogging communities; he's also one of the most supportive readers out there. He can often be found commenting on about any blog I've ever run into. His encouragement and support for others have few limits. He's one of the most humble yet unabashed and confident people La and I have come to know. And for the record, no compensations were made for either his or my own comments. :) I give you... Know Your Blogger: Sideon's Sanctuary KYB: How and why did you start blogging? Sideon: I'd been reading John Aravosis' "The List" since 2003 or 2004, when I followed his very successful campaign against Dr. Laura and her continual spewage of hate. He started focusing more on his blog. Early 2005, I discovered Recovery from Mormonism. That fall, I followed links to personal blogs. Chanson and TLC were huge influences - they still are. While I was in awe or their writing skills, I didn't feel a sense of competition. I experienced the realization that I could write, share and contribute to a growing group of like-minded people. KYB: What do you enjoy about blogging? Dislike about it? Sideon: What I enjoy is the sense of community. I've enjoyed making friends from across the miles. I've been writing consistently and I've allowed myself to write, whereas in the past I've sat back and watched myself just think about writing. What I dislike about blogging is not knowing the technicalities and intricacies. If it wasn't for other bloggers, such as JLO (who taught me how to create links) or Chanson (who created a new masthead, which motivated me to get my own) or Eric (who is simply brilliant), I would have floundered and been very frustrated, which translates to cranky, bitchy and manic. Yes, it's hard to tell sometimes. One thing that I like and dislike is that it's a fluid medium. Topics, formats, responses, and opinions can change quickly. There's plenty of help available, but the hard part for me is hunkering down and figuring it out. KYB: What do you read regularly? Sideon: Playgirl, because of the intellectual articles. Recipe books, because I believe that the skill will come to me through osmosis, instead of practice. The Handyman magazine, because I dream of one day being allowed near power tools again without injuring myself (sorry about that table saw blade-shield, Scott). Blog-wise, I try to stay current with Outer Blogness folks, but am not always successful. Matt introduced me to RSS - I have about 15 setup on my Mozilla toolbar. The community itself is fluid and dynamic, with some writers taking a break, some deleting, or others bursting onto the scene. KYB: What do you like to do when you're not blogging? Sideon: In no particular order: square dancing, BBQ's, pool parties, wine tasting, beer making (and drinking), hitting the gym 3-4 times a week, walking with Scott and Midas, biking, stained glass, underwear shopping, gaming (PC or Xbox 360), gardening, being home with Scott. KYB: Where would you say you are in the process of recovery from Mormonism? Sideon: My affliction with Moism was tangential - my mom and dad were (and are) Jack Mos. I grew up in the culture, but felt like an outsider looking into a store I'd never buy from. Once upon a time there was bitterness, especially in relation to the official Mo stance against gays and lesbians, but I'm over that, too. The idea of "forever families" gives me indigestion - try hangin' with my family for more than a day. KYB: What advice would have you for people trying to deal with leaving the church? Sideon: Freefall is okay. Not knowing everything is okay. You're responsible for yourself and your happiness. If it helps to pin something on baby Jesus, then by all means keep believing, but take out the middle-man - supposed prophets and ecclesiastical 'authorities,' up to and including the Pope who wears Prada. It's your life. Live it. Own it. KYB: What else do you want to say about your interests, hobbies, career, education, whatever? Sideon: Politics are interesting. I follow the national stories. What I'd love to see is Paris Hilton running for President. No need to explain the brain-dead (Reagan) reference, right? It would be a great opportunity for the porn industry. Sexuality, porn, and masturbation are fun topics. Based on the RfM threads and various personal blogs, those topics generate a ton of traffic. I remember a comment a professor in my British Literature class said: "cultures, at various times, are focused on either sex or death. One is celebrated, the other is avoided. Which do you think the US is focused on at this time?" KYB: Where did you come up with the name of your blog? Sideon: I have more names than a cheap whore - I figured one more wouldn't hurt. "Sideon" came from a role-playing game in college called Planescape. It was a purposefully distorted and mispelled version of Obsidian, the jet-black volcanic stone that is rumored to absorb negativity - I'll take all the help I can get.

Rebecca has nice titles

Perhaps I owe something of an update. I have been reluctant to talk about my interview because I never know who will read this. Even still, writing this, I have my hesitations. As La mentioned on her blog, we had crisis after crisis on this short trip. I'll focus more on the shortest aspect: the interview. I believe the interview went well. I spoke with two men, one of which was the owner of the business, who was harder to read than the other. I'm uncertain if they caught the vision of my ability to do just about anything, but a lot of my experiences correlated with what they were looking for. The owner was a little tough, though I quickly dealt with his questions. He seemed mostly concerned with how my experiences would translate into what they were looking for, seeing as how my background is a bit varied. The other man seemed warm and responsive, but didn't dig too deep into things, probably because his boss was doing it for him. The interview was longer than it seemed. It felt like 15 minutes when it went about 45. In all, I feel good about the interview. I don't have any idea how to read the responses during the interview. Normally you can tell how they feel about you with the kinds of questions they do or do not ask. This interview was different than most, and not just because of their reaction to me. Often I find that interviewers ask the questions first, and tell you what they're looking for last. The non-owner interviewer immediately told me what they were looking for, which made answering their questions easier. I haven't been through too many interviews where I've been informed of the qualities they want before they ask questions and try to apply my answers to what they're looking for. As of writing this, I haven't heard anything from them. I'm going to call them this afternoon. We'll simply have to wait and see what happens. Eric

Know Your Blogger: Sister Mary Lisa

Sorry for the delay with this week's Know Your Blogger profile. I was out of town over the weekend, and had to copy and paste this week's profile a few times to get it to Blogger. A lot of spaces fell off somewhere, so you may have read a difficult version of this between my post and this edit. I greatly appreciate the response I'm getting from the people I've contacted regarding Know Your Blogger. This week's profile has been an enthusiastic recent edition for many of us. Without further procrastination, I present...

Know Your Blogger: Sister Mary Lisa KYB: How and why did you start blogging? SML: When I first googled the words "why do people leave the LDS church?" I found many websites I started researching, and eventually I came to the blog of Joseph's Left One. Then I started regularly reading his and the other blogs on Outer Blogness, and finally I had to just start my own. I hated writing a journal, and can't believe how much I enjoy writing my blog. Must be the positive reinforcement and words of encouragement I get from the people who read mine that makes it great. Or I just need the outlet right now. OH ALLRIGHT! FINE!! I just wanted to be cool like you guys. Are you happy now?! KYB: What do you enjoy about blogging? Dislike about it? SML: I really love people watching, and blogging is a lot like people watching on a grand scale. People fascinate me, and reading about what makes them tick is fun for me. What I dislike about it is the time it requires. I wish people weren't so interesting! KYB: What do you read regularly? SML:I quit reading to dedicate more time to my art. When I read, it consumes me and it's all I want to do. I read at stop lights and everything. You might say I'm easily an addict if I let myself read. I really enjoy LaVyrle Spencer romance novels...they are so well written and not like smut novels. I wish she hadn't retired! I also like Judith McNaughtnovels. I've read every one of their books more than once... I also love Jane Eyre, Memoirs of a Geisha, Angela's Ashes. I have many more I just can't think of right now. I love Rosamunde Pilcher - I have all of her books as well. I have a couple autobiographies, one by Lauren Bacall and one by Katharine Hepburn. I’m a hopeless romantic. I bought Doctor Zhivago and hope to read it someday soon. Loved the movie, and the book is always better. KYB: What do you like to do when you're not blogging? SML: I like watching movies and TV, going to my kids' sports events, doing art. I love painting, drawing, and reading art magazines like Art of the West, Southwest Art, International Artist, and The Artist's Magazine. I love to read books when I allow myself the pleasure. We play tons of board games, another thing I really enjoy. My favorite is Settlers of Catan. German board games rock. We have a game store in SLC that is the one way I get my husband to willingly go to UT to visit my family...we hit that game store (called Game Night) and he's happy for a few more months until the urge to buy more games hits him. If we played four games every weekend for a year, we still wouldn't have played all the games we own. KYB: Where would you say you are in the process of recovery from Mormonism? SML: Last week I wrote a letter to my bishop asking him to release me from my calling, and yesterday I had to explain (via e-mail because I'm chicken) to my co-workers in primary why I've quit going to church. I have a long way to go. My TBM dad and TBM Austrian host family don't know I don’t believe the church is true anymore, and those are my last hurdles, or the last people I need to tell in order to have it all off my chest for good. I'm a little nervous. Or a LOT nervous. KYB: What advice would you have for people trying to deal with leaving the church? SML: I don't know that I have any good advice since it's all so new to me. Just be true to yourself, and know that you are OK inside, no matter what you decide. It's hard to allow ourselves to question what we always thought was right. It's difficult, but so worth it in the end, I think. KYB: What else do you want to say about your interests, hobbies, career, education, whatever? SML: I've always wanted to do something professional art-wise. I woke up one day and decided that it wasn't going to be up to fate to have my art happen. I was going to have to get off my butt and just do it. Do it in spurts. It's very hard to have energy after work to do creative art, especially since I cram motherhood into the evening hours and weekends too. Many months in spring we travel with my son's soccer, and that really limits my art time. I have an oil portrait that’s not even half finished, yet it's dry on my easel. I have a commission currently that needs to be done ~ a graphite drawing of an old church. I have been commissioned to do a portrait of 6 people for a Christmas gift, as well as two possible commissions to do 2 kids each for Christmas gifts as well. I hope I don't burn out on doing portraits and hate it halfway into it. Having a deadline always helps me. I need to get back into practicing my painting. I'm getting better at it every day. I have been teaching myself to oil paint since I only learned acrylics in high school. I've had no formal training since high school. I’ve also been experimenting a bit with pastels and charcoal. I've done watercolor only a couple times, but I'd like to do it more as well. Trying to teach myself is tough since I'm a great procrastinator. I wish I were rich sometimes so I could dedicate myself full time to art. Oh well! I have a great job too, which has been a real blessing to us. I like to see artwork by the masters and also by artists in my magazines, it helps me see what is possible. My dream is to one day be able to just paint or draw what I want, and have galleries actually want to sell my stuff for me. Oh yeah, and also have it pay as well as my day job, so I can be with the kids more after school and in summer, and do what I love and be paid for it... KYB: Where did you come up with the name of your blog? SML: I was such a prude in high school (those of you who know me are saying to yourselves "only in high school?! She STILL IS!"),and a co-worker at Albertsons called me Sister Mary Lisa one day as they were teasing me about not doing anything bad. Yesterday my 8 year old daughter called me Sister Mary Lisa twice. Sadly, the name really fits.

Response to The New Sabbath comment

In a recent response to my older post entitled The New Sabbath: Anonymous said ... (Wednesday, September 20, 2006 8:50:35 PM) : eric you are truely making use of your overabundance of seratonin, these are the happy creative hours of our lives, maybe you can get some recognition from your Creator and take this energy and figure out why you are spending so much time trying to help yourself and others get rid of those feelings you and they once had about J. Smith being a true prophet, and do something that is worthy of you and help your fellowman, none of this is really that funny, it's predictable and sad that you have to have this constant communication to the world and let them know that this is on your mind constantly, just accept the fact that you do believe J. Smith saw those 2 personages standing in midair and then you can really start to move on, yer just spinning yer wheels... I felt the need to respond to this, even though this is exactly that this person wanted me to do. However, I didn't feel the need to respond because of the post. In reality, I decided had me fired up enough to spit out some good keywords and bring traffic to the site. Mostly, I'd like to respond only a little and make some points that have been going through my mind lately. 1) I do not believe that Joseph Smith experienced anything he claimed to experience in reference to anything metaphysical, religous, thiest, or halucinated. I simply believe he invented the entire thing. 2) It's predictable and sad that you even formulated this comment. Furthermore, my decision to have "constant communication [with] the world" is my own to make. I chose to do this of my own accord. This blog is for me, not for you, and not for any of my more agreeable readers. I would be writing this regardless of my traffic or my visitors. 3) There is nothing wrong with any of us discussing the fraud that was Joseph Smith. 4) We are not apostates. Apostate is a title that the church places on people who willingly or unwillingly, through action or inaction, leave the church (the LDS church in this instance). Given that we do not beleive the church has any right or need to govern our lives, the term apostate means nothing to us. In fact, many of us do not recognize the church in any capacity of authority, physical or spiritual, secular or theological. 5) Funny is relative. What I find funny is not the same as what others might find funny. Your post was funny. 6) I do not need the LDS church, or any organization, in my life to help others. I can and will do this of my own free will and accord. 7) This is not on my mind constantly. I shed that mentality when I removed myself from church records. I once worried about god seeing me watch some woman's breasts or some cardinal sin. I was fooled into thinking that I needed to control my own mind. I know that I cannot do this. My mind is capable of so many wonderful things, and I have trained myself to concentrate well. I didn't need the mere thought of god or church controlling my most basic reactions, my thoughts, my feelings, and more. 8) Is your imaginary creator going to pay your bills? If so, can he or she or it pay mine as well. Let me know when your god leaves irrefutible evidence of itself. 9) Have you read my blog? I don't post much, and only have a handful or regular readers. I don't have much energy for posting, myself. 10) I found it curious that you left your actual name on your post. Oh, wait a second. You didn't! Eric

Know Your Blogger: Arizona Expositor

I remember running into this week's Know Your Blogger subject before he made it onto most people's links. His blog was fresh (as in new), fresh (as in a breath of air), and fresh (as in kicking a little ass with style). I don't get to respond to his posts as much as I'd like, but I always enjoy reading. Here is this week's Know Your Blogger: Arizona Expositor KYB: How and why did you start blogging? AZEX: I started blogging in the fall of 2004 just after the Presidential Election. As a Republican in DC I was a distinct minority for more than my racial background. However, I only wrote four posts and I let it go. The interesting thing is that I found the old blog last week and I am considering bringing some of those old posts to the Arizona Expositor, it's fun to read what I was thinking two years ago. The reason why started this blog is because I was looking for people with whom I could relate to as I left the church. I started attending a support group here in Mesa for exmormons but it is ran by a Christian ministry, and their goal is to convert you to their brand of religion and I was not ready for that. My TBM wife also believes Evangelical Christianity almost wrecked our marriage, and looking back at that month when I associated with them I agree. Reading about the church was a constant for a while and I read the RfM website a lot, but I stayed away from the bulletin boards I was a little intimidated by those for some reason. Then I found the link to exmormon blogs and I first read Cr@ig in the Middle and from there I just started reading what you all had to say. I was hooked so I started the Arizona Expositor blog and ever since it has become an almost daily habit, just like praying did as I was joining the church. KYB: What do you enjoy about blogging? Dislike about it? AZEX: I enjoy being able to vent about my life and spill all the details. Of course the details are from my unique point of view. I am sure the loved ones in my life would weave a different tale, but if they want then they should start their own blog. The one big thing that has surprised me is the friendship I have found here in a short amount of time. Before JLO's blog self-destructed I recall him referring to Outer Blogness as his friends and that struck me, and today Sister Mary Lisa called me a friend and that to me is cool. Because you who read my blog get a better idea of what's going with me better than my wife, parents, boss, and co-workers. My dislike is the time it takes to read all the good stuff each of you write, and then try to find the time to comment. I mean really it takes a lot of time, so much I would say it has distracted me from my job at times. So I am making a more concentrated effort to limit my blogging, but it's hard to do at home because my wife to my knowledge does not about this. KYB: What do you read regularly? AZEX: Now I am reading a lot about Jewish life. As I have stated I don't plan on converting without my family, but at the same time I want to learn about the religion and since right now taking the class I want to understand their principles and beliefs so I can incorporate them into my life. The other non-blog stuff I read a lot of is financial since I am in insurance and financial services, I need to keep up on those issues. If you will be in Arizona this winter and would like to talk about life insurance let me know (ok I won't be holding my breath). As for blogs check out my links and that pretty much sums up who I read on a regular basis. I know La usually posts around noon so I check for her on my lunch on others who I know post on an almost daily basis. The others who are little more infrequent I will check from home on Sunday when the wife and daughter are at Sacrament Meeting, isn't there a little guilty pleasure surfing Outer Blogness when the family is at church? KYB: What do you like to do when you're not blogging? AZEX: Work a lot being a year into the insurance thing the hours are killer but in 3-4 years I should be making a gazillion dollars a year so it will be worth it. The good news is that I don't have to pay tithing on those gazillions! Referee ice hockey, I started that as a part-time job while in college 13 years ago and still do it for the money and because I love hockey. Plus, it's better to be paid to skate versus paying to play on a team, it's simple finance. The other big thing in my life is family as you know while the transition out the morg has been difficult my wife have grown a lot because of it and the sex has been great. Without her my life would not be as great as it is. The other lady in my life is my daughter who will be five this December. I live for her hugs and kisses. When I get home and she's still awake she will run to me and throw her arms around my legs, and I just melt looking into her blue eyes. KYB: Where would you say you are in the process of recovery from Mormonism? AZEX: Out, but still tied to it because of my family. I dream that someday my wife will come to me and say, "Teach me your ways of Apostasy". Alas, I dream but do I dare to dream such lofty dreams? Probably not but I have to have hope too that she will come out someday. Seriously, I am finding comfortable spot with it. I don't hate the believers but I do disagree with the leadership, founders, and much of the doctrine. Letting go of the anger was hard but I had to, and there are days that I still get angry but I have to let go and let G-d. KYB: What advice would have you for people trying to deal with leaving the church? AZEX: Your journey will be unique but find those who you can relate to either by blogging, reading, or making new friends online or offline. And get a good coffee maker because Starbucks everyday will kill the checking account. KYB: What else do you want to say about your interests, hobbies, career, education, whatever? AZEX: Really do you think I have more to say? Ok I do, is Molly the Mormon really Bishop Rick in blog-drag? KYB: Where did you come up with the name of your blog? AZEX: While leaving the church I read a lot more about polygamy and polyandry and I realized the "real" the Nauvoo Expositor was destroyed was because it outted Joseph on these very same issues. I had never realized early church leaders lied in the name of G-d to protect their little secret from the rest of the country. So when I decided to start this blog the name choice was obvious to me, and it has no link to my real name. Unlike a "New Eric" or "Discovering La".

Breaking the silence

I’ve been a little quiet lately, for which I am truly sorry. I seem to have the incredible distinction of being on top of many alphabetized blog links. While this is wonderful for traffic, my own silence is not. Because of this, I will now break my silence. Today, I wanted to tell you all a story. Everyone in the ex-mormon community seems to have an exit (or on their way out) story: a long, drawn out recollection of why they left the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, or mormon church. My exit story has been mentioned before. I have the rare distinction of being one with an entrance story. It is this story that I will tell you today. First, I need to get you up to speed on some things. I've been using the Internet (before we knew it by that name), at least in parts and pieces, since the late 80s. I experienced much of the initial transition into a consumer-dominated existence in the early 90s. I've used the Internet as a source of information since around 1993. I met La in 1996, and she introduced me to the church fairly quickly. I had heard the church's name before, but never associated it with the word Mormon, and had no preconceived notions of the church being good or bad. I immediately went to the Internet for information. One of the first pages I came across was an early version of a now-popular amateur apologist site run by Jeff Lindsay. Most of what I learned and came to know about the church over the next year came from this man’s web site. In many ways, this site was part of my conversion. I was an investigator from sometime in January of 1998 through sometime in October. All sorts of people came with the missionaries, sometimes on splits, sometimes with both missionaries. I guess I was the ward’s most hopeful investigator for a while, as many people seemed excited to visit and genuinely interested in me. They seemed to give up after a while, when they assigned us a home teacher who often came over with missionaries. By around October I had been through the discussions and dozens of other lessons, religious conversations, dull scripture readings, church meetings, and more. I was already a member, at least in practice. In some way, I’d had enough. I was tired of having people bug me about joining the church, coming over all the time asking why I hadn’t joined yet. I guess I needed to make a decision. I was not opposed to the church, and for the most part, liked the people in the ward. The home teacher and a brand-new missionary came over one night, and started over with the lessons. In retrospect, that seemed fairly desperate on their part. By the end of the lesson I had decided to get baptized. I clicked with the lesson, the basic nature of it. Of the things that felt weird, the basics seemed acceptable. I could attach myself to the basics. I decided to get baptized. That’s when things started to slowly change all around me. The stage was slowly assembled for the last act of my life as a mormon. Eric

Breaking news

God and Jesus walk into the bar in heaven...

Ode to Joseph's Left One

I'm one of Joseph's Left One's biggest fans. I've followed him around a bit, from the Recovery from Mormonism board to his first blog, and through each incarnation as its happened. When I needed the RfM board during my own recovery process, I was enamored by his words. I would use the search menu to find posts specifically written by him. He was one of only a few that had that distinction. I with I had more time and ability to post comments to his blogs. I really envy the man's ability to write, to express himself, to know when he can and cannot compromise his position. Because of this, I admire his decision to take a hiatus from his blog. Right now he has a lot to work on at home, and he's willing to compromise his outlet for frustrations, namely blogging, to work on more pressing issues. On many levels, JLO is a man I hope to emulate in life. I would love to have his focus and clarity on issues concerning mormonsim, and hope to be on par with his mind one day. One of the many ideas that JLO has produced, that I am fascinated with, is the "Know Your Blogger" series of interviews. With my limited time, I don't make as many friends among the bloggers as I'd like. I've thoroughly enjoyed this series because it has allowed me to get to know others within the post-mormonsim blogging community. When JLO decided to take a break, I became worried that one of my favorite series would disappear. JLO has given me permission to continue the series, which I will make every effort to complete on a regular schedule, until he wishes to resume blogging. I will need a little bit of help from readers and authors to move things along. If you are curious about an author, or you're itching to talk about yourself , please e-mail me (via the link under “About Me”). I will make an effort to interview that author, if they are willing. Or I will hurt them until they agree. Either way... Also, I have added a new “Know Your Blogger” link section in my side column, so you can always reference the posts that were done on JLO’s blog, and future installments as they come. My plan is to have a new profile posted each Sunday, if possible. I appreciate your support in maintaining this wonderful series. In honor of Joseph’s Left One, feel free to post comments here praising his blog, his writing, his intelligence and wit, his strengths and lack of weaknesses, and his stunning good looks. Dirt. Personal stuff is good. Juicy, personal stuff. YES! Um… no. Sorry. Move along. Nothing to see here. Thanks for all you do, JLO. Hurry back. Eric

I read what I want from this song. Who cares why, or for what movie, they made it... There's no time for us, There's no place for us, What is this thing that builds our dreams, yet slips away from us Who wants to live forever, Who wants to live forever? There's no chance for us, It's all decided for us, This world has only one sweet moment set aside for us Who wants to live forever, Who dares to love forever, Who dare who dare, Who wants to live forever, When love must die So touch my tears with your lips, Touch my world with your fingertips, And we can have forever, And we can have forever, Forever is our today, Who wants to live forever, Who wants to live forever, Forever is our today, Who waits forever anyway? Who Wants to Live Forever by Queen

True order of baptism

Another gem from the Twisted Seminary vault (with an incorrect "Twisted Primary" title):

Bored senseless at work.

I'm here at work. I've done almost nothing all day. So it made sense to whip out my PDA cell phone and write up something on the good old tic-tac keyboard. If anything, between the "small button to large thumb" typos and the deadly boredom I'm experiencing, this post should be interesting. Today someone offerred to sell me a 40-something inch TV for $100. If I were home to watch TV on a regular basis that might actualy sound appealing. With my work schedule it would make sense to have a Tivo. Here's the problem with Tivo: you have to have to have a phone line. La and I are 100% cellular. Nice. Would help if they could just use our full-time fiber-optic Internet. But no... I have a PVR on my computer, maybe I should wire it up. Did anyone see the pic I photoshopped for Sideon? Ever notice that we die-hard bloggers use the word "blog" about as much as Smurfs used the word "smurf?" Let's get blogfaced. Did you blog about that? What the blog are you blogging about? Blogity bog blog. Blog on and blog forth. Ever notice how people steer clear of cell phone salesmen, car salesmen, and hot tub salesmen like they have ebola AND gangreen? Must suck for them. In spirit of JLO's blog about celebrity endosements, has anyone else noticed a lot from Dan Marino lately? He's pitching SlimFast and Samsung HD flat panels lately. I miss his Ace Ventura days. Nelly Furtado is hot. And she has a funny last name to compensate. By that standard, with my funny last name, I too am hot. Yes. I miss 5-Alive. If anyone lives in a place where they still sell it (you know who you are, eh), send me a crate. If you live in New Jersey (and you know who you are), I have a certain brand of nacho cheese you can ship to Utah. Call me. You know you work with crazy people when they come up to you and say, "well, its a good thing I didn't bring my gun to work today." I know a man named Alan (a customer of mine) who is 5'5" and has a voice so deep it hurts your eardrums. Why do so many people wear those rubber shoes? Do they call them rubbers like in the UK? Breasts are nice. You know who you are, too. I think my night would be more exciting in the bathroom washing my hands over and over again. I love it when BYU students wear a pastel polo with the collars up, tan knee shorts, black socks and sandals. Or when they wear torn jeans and you can see about six inches of garments. WTF? Oops! First customer in hours... Gotta go! Have a good night! Eric

From my "Twisted Seminary" series

The New Sabbath

Welcome to the New Sabbath for ex-mormons! Ex-mormons enjoy the following Sunday activities: Having fun. Enjoying themselves. Spending time with family and friends. Not stressing over your personal worthiness because your skirt is only 1/4 inch longer than your garments. Not having to walk the hallways with your youngest for two whole hours, pretending he's a menace and needs to be walked to sleep, only to avoid the need to commit suicide from having to sit through another Elder's Quorum lesson on masturbation. I really like my Sundays now. I used to dread them. When I was ward clerk, I felt like Sundays were pure hell. It was bad enough as a jack-mormon member, who could get away with the three hours, I had to sit through more and more, and usually go back and take care of something else after church. Even before my days as a clerk, for about four years I would have terrible headaches every Sunday. I'd take pills for my headaches each time, but oddly enough, only on Sundays. I'd have other pains, such as terrible back pain. Given all my Sunday ailments, I would often need to crash after church and take a nap just to survive till the end of the day. Yes, church made me physically sick. I left the church, and guess what happened? Headaches are gone, with an occasional one in the middle of the week - not on Sundays. Back pain, minimal and not on Sundays. Wow! Imagine that! The church was slowly killing me! I am so glad to not have to do this any more. I can relax, pop open a beer, and enjoy a beautiful Sunday with my wife, and the occasional friend. Life can really be good, now that I have that soul-sucking church parasite out of my system. Eric Guess what? LDS mormon mormon mormon priesthood heavenly father jesus christ joseph smith gordon b. hinkley and all that other shiz that will make this blog entry kick around the Google Blog search top-ten list for the next 12 hours... enjoy!

Caution: Mormons At Work

I had an interesting exchange at work today, and felt I should share it with you. In case you were unaware, to avoid complications at work, I flatly tell people I am not mormon. I don't explain anything. I shouldn't have to. I am not mormon, and that is all people need to be concerned with. Of the people I work with, I am the rare non-mormon living in Utah Valley. Of my former coworkers, all but one still believe that I am mormon, as I haven't felt a need to tell them I'm not. They don't bring up the church in any conversation, which I always preferred. The one that does know is a fairly lapsed mormon. I think she's still bound to the patriarchal belief that she should be a subservient temple maiden on some level, but I know the beer-drinking rocker-chick on the outside will counter that internal brainwashing. Of current coworkers, another knows, and keeps my secret. She, too, is lapsed, but in no way looking for a temple to go kneel before her mate in. In fact, she recently married a Catholic! I am the single employee who has been in my group the longest. Of the new crew, all think I am not mormon. They believe that I've never been mormon. They assume my wife is mormon, because they know she's from here originally. I don't say a word to them about it, and if it comes up, I diffuse the conversation and move it into another direction. I prefer to live this way. I don't care if anyone has an issue with this. This is how I wish to be - a non-mormon. Tonight a customer walked into the store wearing the most atrocious pair of jeans. They were torn, ripped, and cut at the knees - not to style. I'm not sure if he was going for style, or threw on the crappiest pair of pants he had. He was otherwise clean-cut, and based on the t-shirt and hat, probably a BYU student. The part that transcends his wonderful jeans would have to be the quite obvious garments he was wearing. I could easily see a few inches of it around his leg. I wasn't sure which was worse: the jeans or the garments. So I turn to my cool mormon coworker and point the customer out. He turns to me, shakes his head, and says, "Its people like that who make me embarrassed about the church. I can't stand people in Utah Valley. Eric, I'm not sure how you keep your sanity being a non-member living in this area." My coworker is great. He and I share similar problems at work, deal with the same people, and have about the same opinion of the company. I trust him. So I looked him in the eye and asked, "Can I tell you something? Something few people here know?" Once I saw he understood I meant this to be between us, I told him. "I used to be a member of the church." He didn't even bat an eye. I told him about being a convert, enjoying church, having callings, watching the church grow back east, going on trips to bless people, my constant shortcomings, my enjoyable time as a gospel doctrine instructor, my Sunday stress, and more. I told him I would not tell him why I left the church, but I would gladly tell him about some of the things that changed my view of the people who consist of the church. And let's be honest, the church IS its people, plain and simple. I told him about a customer who always comes in, and how he's actually the bishop for whom I was called to assist as his ward clerk. I told him about the bishop after him, who told the ward council that my wife couldn't be called to any positions because of a garment issue. I told him about my encounter with the stake president when he told me that "jesus christ wants me to shave my beard" for my calling. I told him many things. He never once looked scared, intimidated, worried, concerned, or anything except a good listener. He didn't testify to me. He didn't tell me I was wrong, or going to hell. He just told me, "I feel like I know you, Eric, and I know that you are a good person. Your situation with the church doesn't change my opinion of you. It will never change how I act with you." I'm in awe of his ability to live his own virtue of being true to himself, and letting others walk their individual paths. This is one of the few mormons I will capitalize as Mormon, though I prefer to label him human. He has his issues with the church, and even with doctrine. He doesn't lie to himself or others that he is something he is not. He has doubts, he has faith, he has belief, he has dignity. I know he doesn't have fact, either, but I am willing to treat him as he treats me: with respect, dignity, and friendship. I wish there were more like him. I wish we could all deal with Mormons like him, rather than the rabble many of us deal with every day. Rather than the spouses who feel we've prescribed ourselves, and our family, to some horrible fate. Be well this Sunday. Watch out for flaming moths. eric

A Dream

Early this morning, I had a dream. I was standing outside in my front yard, in the evening a little after eight (the kids were in bed, and the sun was setting). I hear a very loud noise to the west. I look toward the sound to see a large military transport plane flying south at about a 45 degree angle and less than 100 feet from crashing into the ground. It collides with the ground, partially exploding, and falling into pieces. Parts and debris start flying everywhere as the mess proceeds to move in the same direction along the ground. A wing disects our neighbor's house as I'm running toward my own house to use it for cover against flying debris, and to run in and get my family out. I immediately start yelling for everyone to get out, running to the baby's room first to scoop him up from his bed. As I run to the garage and get him placed in the van, my daughter is running upstairs in terror from the sound of the crash, so I tell her to get in the van right away. I run to our room to get my wife out, who had barely gotten out of the shower and didn't hear the explosions. I pleaded with her to leave, but she wouldn't move and demanded an explanation. I had her look out the bathroom window to see part of the plane outside, on fire, a turbine still running. The look for horror on her face woke me from the dream. Now that I'm back from a work meeting, I had some time to look into the dream. From dreammoods.com: To see an airplane in your dream, indicates that you will overcome your obstacles and rise above to a new level of prominence and status. You may experience a higher consciousness, new-found freedom and greater awareness. To dream that a plane crashes, suggests that you have set overly high and unrealistic goals for yourself. Your goals may be too high and are impossible to realize. You are in danger of having it come crashing down. Alternatively, your lack of confidence, self-defeating attitude and self-doubt toward the goals you have set for yourself is represented by the crashing airplane; you do not believe in your ability to attain those goals. Loss of power and uncertainty in achieving your goals are also signified. This doesn't satisfy me. My main goal right now is to find a new job. I'm simply trying to move on, not find the golden job of jobs. My current job sucks like a massive black hole. I can't imagine that the goal of moving to a new employer when you current one is sucking the life from you is too lofty a goal. So I did some more digging on dreammoods.com, and found a response to someone with a similar dream who had asked for an interpretation: Your dream seems to describe a positive transformation that has occurred in your waking life. You had previously been suffering from self-doubt or a lack of self-confidence as is suggested by the imagery of the crashing airplane. Since the airplane, managed to ascend and crashed away from you, it signifies that you have turned a bad situation from becoming far more worse. I feel that because I managed to avoid debris, my home was untouched when my neighbor's was cut in half (which, to me, means the people inside likely died), and my family was safe, this interpretation feels more appropriate. The only problem is, I'm not sure what I've avoided in real life. I know there's something here. I believe the subconscious uses dreams to talk with the conscious mind (yes, I feel there is a fundamental difference between both parts of the mind - a natural multiple personality, if you will). I could go into this even further, but not now... I think my mind is trying to tell me something. I just can't figure out what it is. I'm open to comments and suggestions. Eric

Holy crap I'm abnormal

You Are 35% Normal

You sure do march to your own beat... But you're so weird, people wonder if it's a beat at all You think on a totally different wavelength And it's often a chore to get people to understand you

How Normal Are You?

I'm not sure why this happened. Maybe it's because I'm coming down from being "drunk." I'll have to try it again tomorrow night... Eric

Sunday Afternoon Blogging

It's a nice Sunday afternoon. I'm sitting in the shade, watching my daughter lollygag with her chore to pick up sticks in the yard. It's warm, but cool for August. A jumping spider just landed on my foot, and hopped away when I tapped my foot to some unmade beat.

I'm sitting next to the grill. Last night I had a notion to grill up some chicken. The starter button doesn't work to my satisfaction, so I tossed a lit match in the base of the grill and turned the gas on. Flames burst out in an instant. An unusual sparking popped out from the right side of the cooking grate, capturing my atention. Suddenly, a tuft of fire flew from the grill and into the air. Flames fluttered erratically and with great speed, yet with no sense of direction. One, then two flutters of flame left the grill. That's when I looked down under the grate. There were moths in the gril. A lot of them, burning, wild with a sense of escape but confused by the bright blue flames and their smoldering exoskeletons. They tried desperetely to flee death, only to fly right into their own oblivion.

The grill smells funny today. Is is the smell of chicken and season-all, or the charred death within? I feel a moment of dusgust for eating the chicken last night, though it really was excellent, tasty, and juicy. I cooked it on the middle part of the grate to avoid the moths, so I'm not freaked out by enjoying the chicken. It merely feels like eating the chicken was disrespectful to the moths' final moments. But then, I'm not the one who decided to build my home in the pits of a flaming chicken hell. And even stll, I know better anyway.

Sundays are now good days for reflection. They used to be days of stress, back pain, and long hours in church. Now, my biggest worry is the untimely and unlikely death of moths, and how my daughter likes to snap branches into inch-long pieces rather than just dumping sticks in the trash can.

Eric

Note: many of my posts will be done on a PDA cell phone for a while. I can't be blamed for ommitted letters, as I'm typing on keys smaller than tic tacs. I'll have to edit and spell check (BE DAMNED!) later.

Blogging from work

Shhh! I'm using my PDA cell phone to blog from work.

Things have been hectic lately. I won't get into my work woes, as I'm spending a lot of time looking on the job market. I ran into a job posting for someone to do background checks on people by searching for them on the Internet. Wouldn't be cool if I told you all what I'm dealing with at work only to find a prospective employer looking at my blog? Yeah, a hoot, for sure.

The job market in Utah is very limited unless you're into hard labor or like working for barely above minimum wage. My current employer has spoiled me because of the kind of money they give me for the kind of work I do.

A close friend tells me I AM a writer when I mention I WANT to be one. If I were making money to write I'd be worried about my brain drying up. I always have Frostys to write about. But what a job that would be! To do something you LIKE!

I feel like something great is inside, scratching at the surface, begging to tear through. I'm not sure what it is. I know it involves a more determined, more aggressive eric, but is he creative, more witty, better looking, or what? New eric, can you here me?

Ah... Blogging at work. Time well spent.

eric

Interesting deblogacle going on

My wife's site has an interesting fiasco happening as we speak. Take a look here. Eric

The most important thing I learned in church

One of the most important things I learned from the mormon church was that being normal was OK. Sure, the church didn’t teach this ideal – in fact, they taught quite the opposite. What I learned came from common sense observation of one of the craziest organizations in the world. As I was growing up, I found a strange power and fascination in being different. Some who have read my blogs through this year have seen me describe myself as an ultimate non-conformist. I was once a very active member of my high school’s environmentalist club. When environmentalism got very popular in the early 90s, I got sick of being like everyone else and left the club. Yes, I was that dedicated to the cause of non-conformity. One thing I stayed away from, most of the time, was beer, tea, coffee, and smoking. I grew up in an environment (non-LDS) where these were normal, acceptable activities. I simply didn’t want to be associated with those things. For instance, one day, I swore to my mother that I would never like beer. In many ways, I was self-made for the LDS church’s doctrine (no alcohol, tea, coffee, etc.). In those days, I used to say my life was prepared to accept the church. I was baptized into a world where the church’s lifestyle was the correct one, the normal one, at least in god’s eyes. The church spends a great deal of energy on teaching and living the ideal that the rest of the world is askew. It’s little surprise I eventually rejected the church. They were telling me the church was normal, and everyone else in the world was abnormal. I grew up seeking after the abnormal, craving it. Those of you who were around for my shift in reality back in April may recall the entry where I started A New Eric. I commented on my definition of the word “normal” and its influence in my life. In the months beginning in January when La and I left the church through April and on to August, I’ve discovered some clarity concerning normal. It’s ok to be part of normal. There’s nothing degrading in it. You don’t lose your own individuality, and nor do you cease to exist. You’re just as much you as you’ve always been. Aside from my wife being a major influence in how to connect with the real world, the church taught me a strong lesson: normal is not only ok, it’s what REAL people are like. Blindly faithful members of the church are not normal. The home teacher who had us pray prostrate as a means to teach us a truer type of prayer: not normal. The lady who “turned in” my wife for wearing normal shorts (not gaudy knee-shorts): not normal. The ecclesiastical leader who made a list of people to pray for in each meeting as if part of the agenda: not normal. The church members who say they’ve seen Cain, or Satan, or anyone of the three Nephites: not normal. Maniacal hatred of normal things like tea and coffee, or sex, or having only two kids, or not having a clue who BYU is: definitely not normal. The church taught me that being normal, like much of the rest of the world, was actually ok. And they did it by being the most abnormal group of people ever to walk the earth. I owe many thanks to the church for this. Now that I can see and embrace the world, I’m not shackled by the church, and not held to an impossible yet crucial standard of perfection. I’m normal. And that’s just perfect. Thanks Joe Smith! Eric

A note about using Word with Blogger

I often use Word to write my entries (not this one), and then copy/paste my piece into the Blogger post creator field. This often creates some funky Word code that HTML (web pages) don't know how to handle. Easy fix. Write in Word all you want. When you're done, copy it. In Blogger, in the window that allows you to enter text, click on the "Edit Html" tab. Paste your piece here. Now click on the "Compose" tab. Make your final touches and publish. Problem fixed; no weird code. Eric

Mormon playas

Tonight I was reading a blog I found by a young mormon woman, and felt compelled to share some of my thoughts. As I've mentioned in another post, when we moved to Utah our expectation was for me to finish school. One day, I was at UVSC running some errands to prepare for classes, and had some time before some sort of appointment. I took a seat in the foyer between the Business and Administration buildings. I was sitting next to two young guys, possibly just barely out of high school, and overheard their conversation. I will reenact it now: Boy 1: "Have you found any hot chicks yet?" Boy 2: "Yeah, there's like tons here, man!" B1: "You gotta play the field, get a taste for them all. The one you want to [have sex with] the most you're gonna have to marry to get in her pants." B2: "Yeah, I can't wait to [have sex with] this one girl. I'm so horny I don't know if I can wait until my wedding night." Both boys had CTR rings on their fingers. In the four years I've been here, I've noticed an underpainting of sexual tension. I believe, for the young men in Utah county, that they're so boiled with male hormones they can't make a comprehensible thought when it comes to marriage. You should NOT get married within 6 months of your first date. You shouldn't get married until you're at least 25. Trust me on this one - La and I got married early and we're lucky. Very few really are. Of those who stuck it out, I assume many of them are miserable or in denial. Others with good sense broke up and divorced. 25 is not the age where women get too old to marry. You should not go to college to hook up and marry (so the young man gets an obediant sex toy). Do you realize that there are people out there who wish they had finished their degrees in the first four years after college, and have paid highly for having not done so? Is a woman LESS of a woman if she puts off marriage for a degree. Is a woman with a degree a bad thing? Is it bad that women have an education? Is this the last 6,000 years all over again? Is it a good thing that young men want to screw so bad they make a life-altering decision without much thought except how hot the woman is and how much they want sex? Why would anyone be more wrapped up in temple worthiness than mutual attraction or a healthy, mature love for one another? When we were 10 years old, we couldn't wait to grow up. Being grown up seemed to far away, and it also seemed that adults were selfish and not understanding. We couldn't wait to be grown up ourselves. Girls couldn't wait to wear makeup, and guys were ready to shave at ten. We weren't physically and emotionally prepared for grown up decisions and situations. We are not mature enough to deal with the levity of sex or marriage at 20. I'm sorry, you just have no idea what it will be like in the next ten years, just as I, at 30, have no idea what it will be like for me over the next 50-70 years. In the mormon (LDS) church there is far too much acceptance of the early marriage. There are far too many consequences for the couple, for family, and for future children. Go to college to learn. Don't be some guy's sex toy (not like this, at least). You're so much more, so much better than that. Eric

a new eric

This past week was a quiet one for me. I didn't write much. Mostly, I've been drawing a blank when I sit down to type something out. Tonight, I was surfing through the archives of my previous two blogs, and realized something. Since starting this blog in April, many new people have started reading my blog. I'm not sure if they understand what "a new eric" means. My life made a major course correction around April of this year. For a myriad of reasons, I decided that I wasn't happy with myself anymore, and that many things in my life were in need of change. I turned 30 in March. My wife and I left the LDS church in January. Both of us have been on a journey of self-discovery and personal growth. At times, things have been difficult, personally, relationship-wise, and professionally. "A New Eric" was a call for change within myself. I was shedding the heavy chains of mormonism, and was dealing with some very tough personal issues that warranted seeing a therapist for the first time in my life. Many who have followed this blog, and my earlier blogs, have commented on how they've noticed my progression. I would honestly say that things are better in August than they were in January. Nothing's perfect, nor will they ever be. But I will continue to do my best to improve myself. I'm sure some of you have been curious about my blog always being in flux - headers, tag lines, templates, moods, rants, topics, and even word capitalization change all the time. While I enjoy the creative process very much (changing headers and what they look like is a lot of fun), I see my life in flux just as much as my blog changes with the breeze or my particular mood. I'm not content with any one thing these days, on so many levels. For those of you who continue to read my blog after all these months, I really appreciate your interest. For those who are newer, and check back every so often as well, thank you as well. For the virgin reader, welcome, welcome! Thanks for reading a new eric. Eric

You're all on notice!

Thanks, Stephen

Trying out a new template!

Let me know what you think. I'm going to try to play around with the color scheme over the next few days, and see if something else catches my eye. On to writing....

My year

Since the "What Year Do You Belong In" thing is going around... I'm 1979: 1970 - 1979: Bold and brash, you take life by the horns. Whether you're partying or protesting, you give it your all! Not sure where the hell that came from. Eric

Down with SPAM™!

Written for part three of exercise three of Scrambled Sage on Toast: “I’m opposed to the recreational use of SPAM™,” Alan told the crowd. “If used medicinally, under the direction of a medical professional, and with a prescription, to each his own,” he said. “Otherwise, we are endangering our youth and the future of our society!” The crowd roared with laughter. Alan looked out among the mass of protesters, noting the excitement. He could sense their enthusiasm for his desire to petition congress to ban SPAM™ meats. The vile concoction had such powerful potential to ensnare each and every youth throughout the country, and only he stood between the children and utter destruction. “Get off the damn stage!” yelled an onlooker. Alan was glad to find such a staunch supporter. He couldn’t wait to organize his march across The Mall. He couldn’t wait to finally see SPAM™ taken off the streets and out of the hands of those too weak to resist. “Let me tell you about the destructive power of SPAM™!” Alan yelled into the microphone. SPAM is a registered trademark of Hormel Foods Corporation.

A day unforgettable

Written for part two of exercise three of Scrambled Sage on Toast: Ah! Power courses through me! It’s such an incredible feeling to lie dormant and suddenly have immense power coursing through my internal wiring. Its so powerful all I can do is scream with all my might as the sensation of spinning overwhelms me. When I get this electrified all I can do is put all my might and strength into the task at hand! I can’t stop! I must keep moving, I – The power is gone. The residuals are slowly draining away. I can feel myself losing consciousness. The power is gone. Gone… ************************************ Every time I pull the trigger I worry. Am I completely safe? Have I forgotten something, and have I taken every inch, every calculation, and every measurement into account? Surely, one day, I’ll squeeze the trigger and something wrong will happen. It wouldn’t take much, really. This machine is old, from a time when safety wasn’t as big of a concern. People got hurt all the time and they just got patched up and kept plugging away. And besides, the chances of it happening to me are relatively – I let go of the saw’s trigger. The sudden pain courses through my nerves. In an instant, it’s done. I can feel my mind fogging as I look down to my left hand, where blood is flowing freely. I can barely think, barely react. Grabbing my left hand, tightening my grip around the base of my left thumb, I can only think of one word:

His favourite treat materialised

Written for the first part of exercise three of Scrambled Sage on Toast. Written in British English for fun: “Wendy’s Frosty circa 21st century, vanilla, frozen,” Picard commanded the replicator. Within seconds his favourite treat materialised. His mouth began to water as he saw a perfect duplication of the ancient yellow cup and creamy delicacy. Picard could even see the cold vapour rising in the wall unit. Reaching for both the cup and replicated plastic spoon next to it, Picard could sense the freezing temperature as he made contact. Walking across the flat, he carefully dropped his body into the soft folds of his beige settee. With a pause of hesitation and contemplative thought, he took one last look at his Frosty and began devouring it.

Yellow-Cup Bliss gets more blissful

Today the family grabbed lunch at Wendy's. God, I feel like that idiotic run of "unofficial spokesman" commercials they had right after Dave Thomas died. I cut them slack for those commercials since they were in mourning. I have no excuse for my own support of Wendy's. I'm just lame. So I ordered lighter - the #4 combo (my usual) in SMALL size. By the way, they suck for changing the size of the fries and drinks in their combos over the last 13 years. I suck for caring too much. Anyway, I order the #4 ask them for a small Frosty. I can't resist. "Chocolate or vanilla?" HUH? They have VANILLA Frosties now? What the heck is up with that? OK, so I ordered one. You have to understand, I don't like chocolate all too often, but the Original Frosty (AKA Chocolate Frosty) is a light blend of sugar, sugar, fructose, sugar, milk, and chocolate - very good, but not very chocolaty. I've wanted Wendy's to have a vanilla Frosty for decades. It was good. I can't rave about this new flavor, yet. I want to have a taste-off where I have chocolate and vanilla Frosties and two sets of perfect fries to test the flavors accordingly. The fries I had today were moderately acceptable. The fries and Frosty I had today was very good, as the Frosty made up for the fries, but I still want a more direct comparison.

Eric

College

Today La and I went to UVSC to take care of some issues she had, one of which was her residency status. When we moved to Utah, the intention was that I would finally finish my college degree. I was all set to go gung-ho and get it done. I initially expected to be a non-resident for a year, deal with the higher tuition, and then finish everything up as a resident. The problem is, H331 went into effect around the same time we were moving. When I first started to establish residency, the law stated I needed to live in Utah for one year to become a resident. When I actually got to Utah, the law had changed thanks to Jeff Alexander and HB331, which stipulated the following requirements for residency: To qualify as a resident student for tuition purposes an individual must: * be a US citizen or have Permanent Resident status * have lived in Utah and earned 60 semester hours at a regionally accredited college or university in Utah or an equivalent number of applicable contact hours at the Utah College of Applied Technology or lived in Utah for more than 24 months as a non-student. * obtain additional objective evidence such as a Utah Drivers license, Utah voter registration, Utah bank account, employment in Utah, vehicle registration in Utah. Individuals may also obtain residency status by: * marriage to a Utah resident. Applicants are required to submit a marriage certificate and documentation that their spouse is a Utah resident. * being a spouse or dependent of an individual who establishes his/her domicile in Utah to work on a full-time permanent basis. The spouse or dependent documentation of their Utah status as outlined above. * being a U.S. military personnel on active duty in Utah. The spouse and dependents residing with such individual may also qualify for residency status. After terminating active duty, residence is determined using the same criteria for other students. * being a client of a Social or Rehabilitation Service Agency in Utah. Individual must provide Utah documentation of domiciliary intent. * being American Indians who appear on the rolls of a tribe having at least some trust land within Utah or whose reservation or trust land has a border contiguous with Utah. In a nutshell, I had to earn 60 credit hours in Utah or live as a non-student for two years. I applied for all sorts of exceptions and reviews, filed appeals, and spent many hours researching and looking at this. After a while, I gave up. UVSC kicked me out of school for non-payment about a week before finals my spring semester of 2003. By this time I was working for the college, and the college's unwillingness to help me felt insulting. The last thing I heard from the college on this matter came in 2004, after renewing my interest while my wife was applying to UVSC. They considered her a resident, so I filed an appeal to be considered the spouse of a Utah resident (see the guidelines above). I was rejected and told I needed to submit a copy of my vehicle registration. I gave up again. This was the dumbest thing to do to someone. La didn't take any classes, either, so it wasn't all too critical anymore. Today La had to clear up her own residency, again. Sitting in the cubicle with a college representative, I mentioned I had a residency problem of my own. She pulled me up, clicked and typed a minute, and it was done. Four years and 67 days after arriving in Happy Valley, I am officially a resident in the most bastardly department of Utah's state government: higher education. UVSC's online system shows this: I find it a little too hard to believe... Eric

mormon mormon mormon mormon

So my post last night "Time for a quickie" produced some interesting results. It seems I caught a half dozen google blog searches for "mormon." At the moment, I'm loving the fact that a handful of dutiful mormons came to my site because they searched for the word mormon and "time for a quickie" caught their... eye. On Heart of Darqueness, Darque posted a couple links on YouTube concerning the Book of Abraham and it's bunkedness. Oddly enough, posted by Aaron, a man La and I met once. Here are some other links that caught my eye. Click around a bit and see what nonsense you can find, too! A campy how-to for people looking to screw over their friends by introducing them to the church. Good and bad examples of how to spread the gospel. How missionaries switch to a christ-centered approach (as opposed to the more truthful, Joseph Smith-centered approach) with street urchins. A white boy (with token hispanic missionary) preaching to street thugs. The funniest damn thing I've seen in ages. You MUST turn up the volume for this, and keep your eyes on his face. This is from something larger and more poignant, but he's reading straight from the Book of Mormon. Missionaries always have too much time on their hands. I guess it's better they do this than spread the gospel. Note the large, balding guy. One of the best moments in television. Another of the best moments in television. Enjoy! Eric

Time for a quickie

I'll be working on exercise 3 of SSoT and the next installment of my short story tomorrow, but until then I wanted to make a quick explanation of things. I am a former member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (note I didn't capitalize "the"). An exmo, as we like to call ourselves. Even though I proudly raise my drink and toast to this title, I don't wear it on my jacket or anything. In fact, I openly refer to myself as a nevermo. Even living in Utah. It's come up at work the most. My coworkers think I've always been non-mormon. The few who knew I left the church more or less did the same thing, at least in their hearts, and most who knew are no longer in my workgroup. I've had it come up with customers on numerous occasions. At some point people figure out I'm not from Utah, and they ask. I had some prick barely-returned missionary proselytize to me the other day after his dad asked me if I was LDS. I've had people ask if I've ever talked with missionaries. I politely tell them I'm not interested. This is my work environment, and my job (i.e. my livelihood). Most of all, I find it highly inappropriate for people to even ask me, let alone assume anything about my personal life. On the flip side, I've had some awesome conversations with non-mormon customers, even though I still find it inappropriate to talk about it. Some might think I'm hiding my true self when I should be proud of my non-mormoness. Truth is, I'm damn proud to be non-mormon. The problem is, I had almost nothing to recover from. I'm not sure how it happened. I'm the ultimate non-conformist at heart, so I suppose I resisted the church at some basic level even at my "apex of faithfulness" around 2000-2001. I was an adult convert in my early 20s, so I didn't grow up with the church. In fact, when I first met La I had heard the word "mormon" before, and had seen commercials with the church's name on it, but had no preconceived notion, whether good or bad, about the church. I joined the church cause it seemed like the right thing to do. I did everything of my own free will, but mostly went with the flow once I was a member. I had a few spiritual experiences in my time, and my social skills definitely benefited from being a member. But while I was a convert in deeds and on paper, my heart was never converted. I suppose that has something to do with bottling everything up inside, as I've mentioned in previous posts. Once I kicked out the church from my life, my head, and my home, I could move on. Mostly, I get to deal with neighbors, my kids, living in Utah County, cranky liquor laws, and La having more of a struggle recovering from the church than I had. It took me only a few months to post heavily on RfM, dabble with Exmo Social, create my formons blog, and subsequently halt my need for any of these outlets. I quickly went from jack mormon, to exmormon, to never mormon in no time. So while I strongly identify with the term exmo, and call myself nevermo, I would much rather be A New Eric and improve myself rather then get all worked up about how false the church is. And I surely don't need more stress at work! For me, the facts speak clearly. The church is nothing more than an irritant. And I'm nothing more than a nevermo living in mormonland. I'll drink to both! Eric P.S. I refuse to capitalize the word mormon, unless it happens to fall in as the first word in a sentence. I find it disrespectful to common sense and decency to capitalize something that was a mere figment of some loon's imagination (yeah, THAT loon, Joseph Smith).

Part One

Today I started writing outside of my element. I don't feel comfortable with distractions. I don't react well to the idea of writing a long piece. I'm going to try something in baby steps. Goal one: write the first page. Thanks go to two people in paricular, for unforgiving yet subtle encouragement. Please keep it up. You know who you are. Here we go... Part One – The Envelope Roger glanced at the stack of mail in his hands. Among the advertisements, obvious bills, and pizza flyers he saw it. A single, solitary blue envelope was peeking from between two plain white envelopes. He knew that kind of envelope all to well. That was the corporation’s signature, and very well trademarked, hue of blue. Roger thought back to all the blue envelopes he had seen in his two years with the company. He had hoped to never see that color again. And still, there it was, aglow in him mind, resting comfortably in the stack he held in his hands. He dared not look at it. Perhaps it held some powerful evil that would possess his body once opened. If he was luckier, maybe it was a simple mail bomb waiting to kill him. Likely, it was some errant Vision-promoting piece that had only now made its way to him, months after leaving the company. The company was far-reaching, but not so far as to improve the postal service. Not wanting to ruin his day, he set the mail on the table and walked away. He stopped somewhere between the kitchen and the living room. In the dark hallway his thoughts betrayed his first reaction to run away. He knew he would have to open the letter, one way or another. It would not be avoided. The corporation could not be avoided. With only the sound of his own quickened, labored breathing to encourage him, he turned around and returned to the kitchen table. Sifting the power bill and a credit card solicitation to the side, he saw that omniscient blue envelope. With his hands trembling, he ran his finger across the envelope’s seal to slowly open what could possibly be some promotional piece of fluff, or his own doom. Parting the envelope slightly, and tugging on the signature blue paper inside, he became aware that he had not yet exploded. So far, everything seemed good. And given that he didn’t feel possessed by a demon, he started to feel like he had averted some possible calamity. Perhaps he was being a little paranoid after all. Opening the letter, Roger glanced down to see his full name, Roger Alan Simmons. His eyes widened, and his heart began to beat as if it ached to escape his chest. He could barely breathe. There was only one other line of text on the paper, centered neatly below his name: June 12. Ten days from today. Roger knew that he had only ten days. Ten days to prepare. Ten days to figure out what to do. Ten days to find some way out of the inevitable. Ten days, he knew without a shadow of doubt, until the corporation had him murdered. The envelope fell from his hand and made the most unnatural sound as it pounded to the floor. Within seconds, Roger too felt the floor quickly rushing up to meet him, as darkness surrounded him.

Note to spell-checker: screw you

Word's spell-checker is a funny thing. It thinks TRIPPLE is a word. In my last post I was aggressively typing the word triple in caps and added an erroneous p. I've been told by some that my writing has good form. I think they're nuts, but lets assume for a second that they are right. Also, assuming I can spell correctly and ignoring obvious faux pas such as the sentence, "Spank spank," let's run spell-checker on my last post. SEVEN grammatical errors, according to Word. I think I had one, maybe two words that I had actually misspelled. But TRIPPLE? Didn't catch it. Dictionary.com says it doesn't exist. A couple other web sites concurred. Somehow, my Word is corrupt or messed up in the head (assuming it had one). Why won't is catch TRIPPLE? Easy answer. It's IN FREAKIN CAPS! Word apparently ignores misspelled words in caps. I proved my theory correct by typing SHITBALLSOPLENTY in Word. Nothing wrong with it. Retype it in lower case letters, instant spelling error. I think I'll start typing ALL IN CAPS. I'M NOT REALLY YELLING NOW, BUT I CAN MSISPEL ANEETING AIND IHT WOA'NT TELLL MEE AHM WROUNG. MS Word spell-checker - screw you! I expect you to be there when I need you the most, and you're not! I'm not perfect, especially my grammar and spelling, and when I need you the most you continuously let me down. You're pathetic, useless, and dumb. Screw you. Tripple THIS! Eric

Never trust someone who's out to get you

I keep writing and rewriting this draft describing how much my work sucks, but I never publish it. I don't want to drive readers away. Many of you know about it, and even La has posted about it on her blog. But I'm in a tiff at the moment and felt like writing. When the writing bug bites you, go with it. I had a phone interview set for 11AM this morning, for a position within my company. At 10:59 I called Holanda, the lady I was to interview with. No answer. Maybe she's on another phone call at the moment, I think. So I left a voicemail telling her I was calling for the scheduled interview, and thought perhaps she was on the phone, and asked her to call me when she was available. At 11:08AM I called again. No answer. No message left. At 11:21AM I sent her a text message which said: "Holanda, this is Eric Palmatier. Tried calling you twice at 10 for the interview as we discussed. Please call me ASAP at xxx-xxx-xxxx. Thanks!" At 11:29AM I called a third time. It rang quickly and went to voicemail. She had pressed the "Ignore" button on me. Nice. What the hell? Here comes the post that never moved past draft. I've had a hell of a time with my company's HR. My previous manager filed disciplinary paperwork against me for incidents he felt were worth of "write-ups," which are corporate's form of spanking. Forget the fact that the incidents were blown out of proportion, and no one from my manager, to his manager, to HR supported my position. Here's an example: a former coworker of mine was written up by this manager for rolling his eyes. That's right. Rolling his eyes. Last stab to my back: write-ups prevent you from being promoted, or even changing locations with the same job title, for six months. Spank spank! So, this last March, my old manager had promoted himself somewhere else, and his manager had me in the "acting manager" role, since they had no one hired. He gave me a wink-nod comment that I would be off my write-up period by the end of March, and oh - it might take him until the end of March to post the job. Hmmmm... So I've been applying to jobs within the company, using our internal job site, and found out two weeks later that the job applications were killed by HR because of a write up. WTF? Turns out, my district manager was wrong. Oh, and it also turns out that my former manager turned in disciplinary paperwork with a one-year term on it? Huh? We have that? Double WTF. Oh, and my signature is nowhere on the form, but HR is maintaining the disciplinary period because the HR rep was a witness to the original signing of paperwork. TRIPLE WTF! All right, as if this weren't enough, there was one job that did not show up on the internal job board, so I applied using the same method an external candidate would use. I get a call for an interview. Fancy that, I must look good on paper. It's out of state, so the HR in that state filtered and approved my application and sent it down to the store level. In the meantime, I've sent in a formal request to personally review my employee file. Of course, I have to go through the same HR rep who has repeatedly been unsupportive of me as a dutiful (and successful, mind you) employee. He has to be present in the room while I review my files. He wanted me to set a time and date, so I sent him a range to work with that I could do any day. Silence. Nothing from him. Now I have a no-show interview. Coincidence? The rub is, I like the company I work for. It just royally sucks in Utah. I'm customer-focused, where these people are butt-kissing and networking focused. I get the job done, and I do it better than everyone else. I'm the #1 sales rep in my market at the moment, and always #1 in some key sales metric and in the top five reps in the five-state area. I'm the guy that people call when they need fast, accurate answers. I'm the guy who gets called by sales reps in Denver and Las Vegas asking for help with their own sales. I'm the guy who knows just about everything there is to know concerning my job. I'm the guy who has been the shadow manager of my own store since I started, but can't get a GDed promotion to do what I'm already doing. And the company doesn't know beyond a handful of people because my HR is the legal department for the company - not the advocate of its employees. Rant over. Breathing. Eric

Contemplation

Written for Scrambled Sage on Toast, exercise #2. Eric held the last French fry in his hand and contemplated the sweet taste of Frosty mingled with the salt-laden strip of fried potato. He dipped the fry deep into the cool dessert, pulled it out with a huge glob of chocolate goodness, and popped into his mouth. The taste danced with his senses for a moment and disappeared into his awaiting stomach. His thoughts wandered for a moment to his writing. He had some real talent, but didn't have the self-confidence to create something he thought people would want to read. He would often sit in front of his computer, wasting his time, trying too hard to do something that was actually quite easy for him. With the lingering affects of the Frosty and fry combination still teasing his taste buds, he found a brief moment of inspiration. He could write about how delicious Frosty and fries were! He started typing, pounding out his thoughts through his fingers. Within a few minutes, had had created a subtly sweet concoction of words and ideas. Eric pulled up his blog and posted it immediately, never bothering to proofread his work for awkward word combinations or phrases. At least he had the sense to spell check the narrative before finalizing his post, even adding a graphic of that drool-inducing Frosty to his work. Eric turned off the computer screen and lights, and went upstairs to bed, leaving his fascination with Frosties with the trash. A few days later, Eric sat down in front of his computer, turned on the screen, and checked his blog. A few friends from the blogging community had posted some words of congratulations for a good job. Pure crap, he thought. They were just being nice to him, he was sure. Checking a few of the blogs he monitored, he remembered a writing group he had committed to helping, but didn't have enough interest to actually write for. When the new writing exercise was posted, he hadn't found the desire to write anything. Thinking back to the blog comments on his Frosty entry, he recalled one from the friend who had started the writing group where she hinted that his post was in the exact format for the exercise. For fun, he threw a link up to his Frosty post, if not for the pure silliness of it, at least to help out his blogging friend. Within a day's time, others made comments about his entry. Some even went so far as to suggest he might be good enough to publish his writing. He started to wonder to himself, could they be right? Is it possible that he has enough talent to start that journey? Could he finally find success in something, and truly be passionate about it? Drifting off into thoughts of writing, Eric's stomach rumbled, bringing him mind back to reality, abandoning his thoughts of fulfillment. He was hungry. Time for him to head to Wendy's.

Yellow-Cup Bliss

UPDATE: Submitted to Scrambled Sage on Toast for the second-person writing exercise. Nothing in this life is quite as good as the delicacy that is Wendy's fries dipped in Frosty. Hopefully, your fries are crispy, perhaps slightly overcooked. Yum. Salt? Oh hell, yes. Smother me in salt. Care must be made in selecting your ideal dipping potato. The ones with the wedged ends cut right through that amazing concoction of milk and corn syrup. If the fry's end is rock hard from being stuck against the metal basket and fried to a crisp, praises unto you!