Thursday, September 1, 2011
Sunday, as I was leaving church, it dawned on me that suicidal ideation is probably NOT what the Lord was going for when he created ye ol' "day of rest"...yet that is what I've had for the last 2 Sundees...and for pretty obvious reasons.
As if willingly sitting through three hours of church wasn't bad enough, the last two weeks I have spent those third hours trapped in a room of women discussing the "blessings" of eternal marriage*. Now the first week I just chalked it up to the fact that we were due to have a lesson on marriage. I mean it hadn't formally been discussed in at least a month and we all know that if we don't talk about it a least 90% of the time we're likely going to completely forget that it exists and slip into a state of cannibalistic free-loving heathens. And we can't have that happening. So eternal marriage it was.
Unfortunately, I failed to check on the topic of the day before I wedged myself between two young mothers and their chubby kneed babies on the front row. The only means of escape would have been to hurdle the babies AND their baby blankets AND their toys which were spread out all over the floor around me...I was trapped. So I sat through the lesson as those around me shared ridiculously idealistic 1950's ideas about how to sustain a blissful eternal matrimony...or at least how to fake your kids into thinking that marriage is all about 1950's ideals and eternal bliss.
I wanted to suffocate myself but figured that would have been a bit dramatic for a front row sitter...so I just let the tears flow and pretended to be uplifted* by those around me.
I figured that since we'd already gotten the Eternal Marriage talk out of the way the previous week that this week would offer an emotionally safer topic.
I was wrong.
This week's lesson was Eternal Marriage part deux. Now I thought part one was bad, part deux was a million times worse. Part deux was all about how if you want to get into the C-K* you have to be married, in the temple*, to blah, blah, blah*. Then came the worst part, the dreaded "all you single ladies" clause. The "all you single ladies" clause basically goes something like this:
(Carrie's paraphrase) "Some of you uglier, less talented, special spirits* will never have the opportunity to marry in this life. Do not fear, because IF you live life as the holiest of holy virgins AND you never feel bad about being such a loser AND you attend church and keep all of the covenants with the cheeriest of cheery hearts AND you don't get depressed, or bitter, or angry, or upset, or resentful, or feel any naturally occurring human emotion other than total and complete JOY over your misery, AND you keep more faith than that damn little mustard seed* you always read about, AND you spend 99.9% of your time serving others, AND you never murmur, AND you never think about sex or love or children or a husband, AND you never date or fall in love with anyone who treats you well but isn't also a Mormon, AND you read the scriptures and pray and attend all your church meetings and do everything you're ever asked to do, AND you smile like you like it...well then maybe, JUST MAYBE you will be allowed to spend eternity as wife #110 to a deserving male AFTER you die...but ONLY IF..."
SON OF A BITCH THAT CLAUSE DOESN'T HELP! It doesn't. So can we PLEASE STOP SAYING IT? Will the lady teaching the lesson, who has been married for 50 years SHUT THE FLUCK UP and STOP telling ME, and every other single female in the room to how to feel? STOP! DON'T TELL ME HOW TO FEEL! Don't tell me to rejoice and to be patient and to enjoy the frikin' journey. DON'T!
I really struggled holding my feelings back during the 2nd week's lesson, as I demonstrated by putting a double barreled finger gun in my mouth and pulled the trigger when the teacher stated "the clause" for the 30th time. SERIOUSLY LADY? DO YOU THINK THAT BY REPEATING IT AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN THAT YOU'RE MAKING IT BETTER?
And then she said something that provoked me into taking off my shoe and throwing it at her (metaphorically of course). She pulled out some obscure book and then proceeded to say that it was written by a really talented and intelligent woman...WHO WAS SINGLE (she had to point that out like singleness is a disability and we need to applaud when a single person, who obviously fails in the relationship category, can pull her shit together enough to write a book). She went on and on and on about this woman's accomplishments and credentials and then she said, "she is a marriage and family therapist, and single...I DON'T KNOW HOW THAT WORKS."
Now, as a single marriage and family therapist I took extreme offense to this comment. One does not have to be married to be a good, great, or totally FAWESOME marriage and family therapist. I know many an OBGYN who lugs around a penis all day...does that make them less qualified to deliver babies? I don't think so. You don't have to have a vagina to be a good obstetrician and you don't have to have a spouse to be a good therapist.
She was lucky she made that statement with 10 seconds left on the clock, because I was about to go all sorts of kung fu on her ass.
By the time I made it to my car I decided I had 2 choices:
1. snuff myself out...thus losing all chances of becoming wife #110 or even #340 for that matter
2. take a few weeks and attend mass
I'm going to start with #2. The Catholic church doesn't teach eternal marriage, so I'll be safe there...of course according to them I'm going to hell for other reasons. But at this moment, I'm ok with that.
Posted by Carrie at 8:55 PM