The idea for this blog came to me back in September. My friend Natalie had just returned from a trip to Utah and being the amazing friend that she is, she brought me back a souvenir. Having been raised by the two greatest gift givers EVER (yep, I got a horse when I was 5 and a car when I was 15), I get pretty excited when there's a gift coming my way, and Natalie has amazing taste so I was full of anticipation. Then she prefaced it with this,
"I went to the prophet's* ward* Sunday."
Now as much as I love cool facts about her life, I was totally clueless as to how that was relevant to my gift. Then it hit me...MAYBE, JUST MAYBE God was tired of hearing me beg for some guidance so he sent a revelation directly to the man in charge (el propheto), who in turn wrote it on the sticky note I'm always asking God to send me, and gave it to Natalie to deliver it to me. My excitement grew, because who doesn't want a hand written note from the prophet?
She promptly burst my thought bubble when she said that the prophet wasn't there but that she'd snagged me a program from the service. I was a wee bit confused but accepted the gift with grace. Then she told me to turn it over and look at the back. My confusion continued until she pointed to this:That's when I did what my father would have done, I flew off the handle. THIRTY-ONE to ONE HUNDRED?!?!?! THAT'S MY DEMOGRAPHIC? ARE YOU Fuh-KIDDING ME? That means that my single grandfather (if I had one) would be in the same dating pool I am. That means that the church thinks my young sexually frustrated self has the same socialization needs as the local assisted living center.
Now I totally get that in the big picture and grand eternal scheme of things all of God's children have the same basic needs. Age doesn't matter when it comes to being spiritually fed, but in the real world 31 somethings still have their teeth and have no desire to carnally fraternize with the elderly. In fact I think that's illegal, or should be. Yet in my culture if you're not married by 31 you're instantly lumped into the "just waiting to die" category.
Nothing feels quite as hopeless as knowing that you don't fit into the organization that nurtured the core of your soul. I'm just not exactly sure what you do with that reality other than keep finding the insane and infuriating humor in it all.
Thus the birth of this blog.
So until God sends me that damn sticky note, I'm going to keep writing and complaining and swearing like a pirate.
Yeah me and my amazing life!!!!