That one time I got engaged on Int'l Womens Day

Happy International Women's Day everyone! Women are awesome. I'm awesome. I'd say more, but I've already fulfilled my feminist quota for the week here, so hey, did I ever tell you about that one time I got engaged on Int'l women's day? Well I did.

Zach and I started dating in mid-February 2007; by March 8, 2008 we had been dating for over a year aka nearly an eternity in BYU terms. Really, even if it had "felt right" or an angel had come down with a flaming sword, or whatever the reason is people jump into an eternal commitment after a few weeks of chastely dry humping, I don't think our pride would have let us seal the deal any sooner. As previously evidenced, I engage in a little "friendly" mocking of quicky engagements. The hypocrisy of being one myself would have eaten me alive. In fairness we actually hadn't been living in the same place during the summer and fall, as I had abandoned him for summer employment and then an internship in DC, but come winter term we were finally reunited in good old Provo.

Ah, and what grand times we had. I think we had been mildly terrified of actually dating in person after 8 months of  cell-phone and IM courtship. Surprisingly, everything just sort of fell into place, and we became a nauseatingly cute, attached at the hip couple in no time flat.

Not being entirely immune to the BYU matrimonial pheromones, and facing imminent graduation, we started broaching the "M" subject with increasing frequency. About a month in, "should" or "if" started to be replaced by "when."

Well, at least for me. Zach seemed positively inclined, but in general he's the type that like to think things over forever, and will not make any decisions until he has been 100% certain for a really long time. I'm a little more, well lets just call it "intuitive." I'd like to say that I patiently waited for him to be sure. That I realized that it would be best if he was as sure as I was, and pushing him would be stupid. I did, mostly. The only time I really lost my cool was when he started discussing grad school plans, and how maybe we could live together sexlessly if "we" decided not to get married quite yet. I think I was justified for a minor blow up over that. Well and the time we went out for a fancy symphony date for our anniversary, and he only went to one knee to tie his shoe. I was great for the date, but the next day I was a little bitchy. But, I got over it, and recommitted to being patient, respectful and less of a crazy person.

I was trying to be a good, sane girlfriend/human being, when Zach asked me if I wanted to go walk around Provo canyon Saturday morning. I had a hunch of what his real motivation might be, partially because I'm not stupid, but mostly because we only went to Provo canyon to make out more intensely and privately than was possible in our respective apartments. (My former roommates may not believe it, but we honestly did try to not be overly obnoxious lust bunnies. I swear.) Still, as part of my non-crazy vow, I tried to avoid fixating. 

When he came to pick me up on Saturday he had a bouquet of roses and a box of chocolates for my roommates and I in celebration of our womeness for Int'l womens day/because he is a smart man. A few chocolates latter and we headed off to the canyon. Where we walked around. And walked some more. What we did not do was stop in any nice pretty spot. What he did not do was propose. We just walked, until we started walking back to the car, thereby killing my hopes and my dreams for one more day ( I sound like one of those crazy, Gollumlike must get a ring girls, don't I? Does it help that it wasn't so much a must get married as it was a being crazy about Zach and wanting to marry him now? Maybe? A little?)

A little before the parking lot he pulled me into a little grove of trees, got down on one knee, and said something. I'm sure I was listening intently at the time, but I have no idea now. I remember it being very sweet, and the phrase "Will you marry me?" was used at some point, but actual words, eh, not so much.

But the feeling, oh that I remember. It was like an explosion and a stillness all it once. Where all of my emotions were flooding and overpowering me with the force of it all, while I just stood there in perfect serenity. It was powerful and scary and perfect and right all at once.

While I don't remember his words, I do remember mine. I first responded with an exuberant "of course I'll marry you!" grabbing him into an embrace by his coat. While we were wrapped in each others arms, I tenderly whispered in his ear that if he was joking, I would "rip his spine out," because that's just the kind of sweet mood killing girl I am. And with that we were engaged.

We laughed and teared up, called family (My Dad's response upon answering the phone? "What do you want? When he finally let me share what was going on, after initial congratulations, he started talking about how he was so glad I didn't marry my ex. Which I suppose is kind of like giving approval.), began weeks of overly careful and analytical ring shopping, and just tried to take it all in for the rest of the day.

Best women's day ever. So far it's turned out to be a decent decision.

(Us, today)

Why feminism still matters

Quite a few of my fellow blog stalkers have probably already come across the recent Cjane post on feminism.  I tried and tried to come up with a rational, polite response, but couldn't come up with anything other than my head exploding a little. I'm not a total fluff blogger, but I do avoid showcasing my brain matter splashed all over the screen as a general rule.

I really, truly believe that most people who are not misogynists are on some level feminists in the broadest, most foundational sense of the term. And I definitely know that feminism still has an important role to fill in our world.

I'm not going to go into all the things feminism has done in the past (voting, property rights, etc). For today, I'm just looking at why feminism still has something to offer. (I'm trying to make this as concise as I can. This is by no means a comprehensive list or exploration.)

On its most basic level, feminism is the radical belief that women are people. In our world, they aren't. Men are people and women are women. Men=default, women=aberration. It's a bit of a trivial example, but there is a reason why a book or movie about a boy is just a piece of media for general consumption, but the same piece about a woman is suddenly just a chick thing. There is a reason why when picturing a lawyer or a doctor, supposedly gender neutral occupations, most people think of a man.

Some things aren't that trivial. Part of seeing women as people has to do with not seeing them as objects. Objects don't have to be treated with the respect and decency of people. Probably one of the most dehumanizing acts is raping or abusing another person. Officially our culture decries these acts, but unofficially our culture supports these acts by turning a blind eye, placing the blame or responsibility on women. In lesser ways, the way we treat women as purely sexual bodies from pornography on one hand to slut shaming immodesty on the other, also reduces people to objects. Feminism fights for women to be seen as people, not objectified and subjected to violence.

Feminism is needed so that traditional femininity and motherhood can be valued. Part of valuing women fully is valuing all the things that we associate with women. In all honesty, this is one of the ways early feminists really screwed up. They were part of a world that devalued the feminine, and in trying to raise women up they made the mistake of trying to open the doors to higher valued masculine avenues without simultaneously elevating the feminine. Taking care of another human being is an amazing thing. So is keeping a household running. So is almost everything that is associated with women, and devalued for that association. In a feminist world traditionally feminine fields like nursing and teaching would be paid fairly. Parenthood would be supported and championed by employers, society and people. Feminism values femininity, and points towards a world where it is valued and supported.

Men need feminism. Just as women are people, so are men. Shaming men into an arbitrary box of masculinity denies them the ability to be full people. Men should be able to take care of children or dance or express emotions or whatever, supposedly masculine, feminine or whatever. By knocking down arbitrary walls, feminism frees men from a stereotype of masculinity.

Marriages and families need feminism. I firmly believe that for a marriage to succeed, it needs to be a respectful, loving, supportive union between two partners who value each other as equal. By valuing the full person hood of men and women, feminism supports good families.

We all need women to be a valued part of the world. I don't necessarily believe that women and men are essentially different, but in today's world women live a very different experience than men, and the perspective they can bring to the table from that experience is valuable. When feminism brings women to the table, we all benefit.

And all this is just in America. The way women continue to be dehumanized to the extreme and worse in other parts of the world is beyond what I'm equipped to talk about here. Feminism hopefully has a large role to play in their futures.

I have a little 5 year old sister and I love her like crazy. She is the most amazing person to watch play, she will seamlessly alternate from tenderly rocking her doll to having the doll fend off a vicious attack from a three headed dragon. She does things just because she wants to, not because of who she was told to be. Right now, she is free to be a full person. I don't want her to ever be told that her dolls and pink dresses are stupid and girly. I don't ever want her to be told that she shouldn't play with action figures because those are only for boys. I don't want her to ever be afraid for her safety because she is a woman. I want her to always be as free to be her own person as she is today, and to be valued for that. In today's world, she won't be.

I believe in my sister and her humanity, and I believe in mine. That is why we need feminism.

 

(Faith at wedding, about 1.5 years ago)

Craving Cycle

 My diet is largely ruled by cravings. Usually this isn't too bad, most cravings are merely a general desire for either sweet or savory and it isn't to hard to find something not entirely horrible to fill that void.

However, from time to time, I enter a craving cycle. It begins with one particular food taking over my mouth and ruthlessly beating back any other desires. For as long as the craving lacks, I just want to shovel that sweet goodness into my mouth non-stop, at every meal. Everything else tastes bland at best and forcing myself to eat it is a chore. 

Right now, eggs are my food of choice. I continuously crave them. And with the versatility of eggs, its not nearly as monotonous as past cravings. Fried, scrambled, hard boiled, egg salad, faux mcmuffins, egg sandwiches, quiche and oh so much else, there is nothing they can't do.

The only problem is that the second stage of the cycle causes whatever food I binge on to become the most disgusting thing imaginable. It's like I've eaten my years supply of that food in the space of a week, and my body will not tolerate anymore until the quota as been reset, thus ending the cycle. I really don't want this to happen to eggs.

I like eggs, even before they attacked, they were one of my favorite food. They're delicious, easy and cheap, what's not to like? Gagging at the very thought of them for several months is not appealing. So, I'm trying to break the cycle by rationing down to one egg based meal every 48 hours. I'm not sure I can make it. I'm trying to cook some of my favorites, but all I want is eggs. It's going to be a long week.

Applying myself (in 250 words or less)

Well, I just sent off an application to my law schools clinic program* (specifically the Women and the Law clinic). And now I get to anxiously keep my fingers crossed and check e-mail even more compulsively than I normally do until they announce who is and isn't in.

I actually really want to do this, which coming from the girl who isn't involved in any extra law school journals, moot court or other such activities means something. And not just in the trying to pad my resume and give me a fighting chance in the upcoming law student grand melee fight to the death for the few jobs that will come into existence upon graduation way (good experience is like being armed with nun-chucks.) But, more than that, the program looks really interesting and the chance to actually work with real people and do real lawyer type things is tres appealing. Plus I'm a sucker for any program with the phrase women and the law. I do love the ladies.

However, to get into the program, I first had to spend a Friday filling out the application, which of course includes the standard awkward interview questions. I would think that blogging would have adequetly prepared for me to brag about myself in personal narative form. No, not so much. Blogging appreciates a self-deprecating wit that doesn't seem at home in a professional context.

What are my skills, interests or attributes that I feel will enhance your participation and the experiences of your colleagues and clients in the program? I really have no idea how to answer that. Skills wise I can turn a can of cheap tomato soup into something awesome with enough access to a variety of hot sauce and dried basil, my shower singing is almost enjoyable to listen in on, and I'm decent in bed. As for interests, I don't think my ability to delineate complicated television love triangles due to my excessive TV habit will come into play in a court room. (Although that would be the best case ever. I may or may not be interested in family law in the hopes that my melodramatic expertise can come in handy.) Attributes wise I can proudly say that to the best of my knowledge no one hates me, and I may be almost as funny as I think I am. I don't think any of those is exactly what they're looking for. I think I'm a  fairly decent human being, but there isn't anything specific about me that makes me the most perfect candidate ever. I'm just normal, but in a competent way.

I wish it was acceptable to just say "Look. We both know that most of my honestly unique attributes don't really matter all that much and the ones that do matter aren't unique. I'm reasonably competent, and while I may procrastinate, I always get things done. I'm a little awkward sometimes, but I generally can interact with other human beings acceptably. Bottom line, I may not be super sparkly and unique, but I'll do a good job. I care about this, and I care enough about my own time that I wouldn't apply if I didn't think I would be a good fit. So just give me a try, ok?"

They would probably get a better, more honest sense of who I am if I had written that instead of the bland fluff I settled on. Which is preciciely why those questions are so pointless and annoying. No one is actually going to answer honestly. A few people will have the perfect response that encapsulates their humanity into a few sentences, but most will be as bland and fluffy like mine.

Oh well. At least they didn't ask what my greatest weakness was, and I was spared from describing how I work too hard or care too much.



*What is "clinic" anyways? Well, just like med students learn how to be competent by practicing on people who need free services, young, adventurous and naive law students can try to figure our legal system out using real people in need of legal counsel as guinea pigs. Not that this is a big, scary responsibility or anything.

I love you, now leave me alone

I love Zach, and one of the reasons I am able to continue doing so is Wednesday. No, Wednesday isn't business time, it's me time.

Our living situation is greatly affected by our student lifestyle. One, we have a large amount of discretionary time, most of which is spent at home. Two, our lack of income means that we live in a studio, not so affectionately dubbed "the shoebox." Basically, we spend most of our time in a small, enclosed space with each other. Often times this is really nice. I generally like the guy and like spending time with him. this was a large part of the whole choosing to marry him thing.

At other times, things start to build up. It isn't anything personal; living in constant close proximity with someone, no matter how great they are, can just be an interpersonal overload sometimes. After all that close cuddliness, I start to feel like my personal bubble is slowly being smothered to death, and it's dragging my patience and good nature along with it. It starts with small things starting to feel like nails on a chalkboard. The way he takes a utensil I'm still using and plops it into the dirty sink water, even though a bread knife really doesn't need to soak and did I mention that I was still using it? Things that I normally overlook as unimportant, or at least can overcome with a deep breath and a polite reminder. But, the more we spend close and constant time together, the more the pressure of the small things builds until even a tender touch feels like a hot poker attacking what little personal space I've managed to preserve.

And then Wednesday swoops in and saves me. After my Wednesday, my defenses have recharged, and all minor annoyances bounce of my personal force field. I'm ready to be loving and close again for another week.

Fortunately, part of being students means that so far, Zach has had at least one evening class each semester. One blessed evening a week where I come home and the apartment is blissfully empty. I don't do anything too out of the ordinary. Just listen to music without headphones and other things that are generally considered rude when in the company of another. Even in the best relationship, you have to censor yourself a little around another person. Nothing major, but you are constantly aware of their presence and adjusting in subtle ways for the sake of the other. I need that one evening a week when I can just be. This semester, that class falls on a Wednesday. My sacred Wednesdays.

Well, they were my Wednesdays. For some reason, his evening class isn't going to be meeting regularly for the rest of the semester. Which means he will be home during that time. Which means I will not be alone. My  force field is officially dead. I don't know how I'm going to survive. Or, more accurately, how he is going to.

This morning, I woke up, ready to engage in my morning routine. My usually quiet, solo, building up the defenses to face the world routine. This routine does not work as a duet. It was a morning of barely restrained fury. He tried to talk to me while I ate, I tried not to  gouge his eye out with my spoon. He would get up to take a shower 5 minutes before my internally scheduled hair and make up time, I would silently try to scream my rage out. He would notice my building frustration and try to ask what he could do to help. I would take that as another assault on my precious alone time. There was nothing that poor man could have done. I just needed to be alone. And there he was, trying to help, but unknowingly committing the horrible crime of co-existing in my space.

It was only about 45 minutes, but I don't know how we lasted that long. We'll be together from 5pm on tonight. Heaven help us.

Spring Break: the prequel

Spring break is next week. Not that I'm going anywhere fun or doing anything exciting. So far our big plans include maybe going to the National Zoo and me trying to get Zach to go to the paint your own pottery place that I've been suggesting for about a year. I don't care if it is a cliche date, I want to make something pretty and play with paint. Really, if we spend Spring Break doing more than sleeping in and moping around the shoebox, I'll be fairly ecstatic.

Despite the less than exciting but predictable reality of break, what makes it truly exciting is what it represents -  one whole week of utterly free time. I could send out hundreds of resumes, deep clean the apartment, get started on all my upcoming papers, have wild and crazy adventures and still have plenty of time to laze about. Theoretically. Like how theoretically the Earth's core is inhabited by malevolent mole people, waiting for the right time to take their place as overseers of the top world. It's true, I swear! Theoretically, anyways. 

So, with all that coming up, why should I do anything this week? I have plenty of time to do the big things latter. Guess how much I'm getting accomplished this week? Somewhere in the neighborhood of zip, nada, zilch. Readings are being skimmed, papers and projects are getting tossed to the wayside. And it's only Tuesday.

This week is sort of Spring Break: the prequel. It isn't nearly as exciting as the main event, not much happens and it's kind of pointless. But boy-howdy, is it a great time suck. 

Ugly baby

What are you supposed to do when you meet an ugly baby? Come on, even the best baby really isn't that adorable in the first little bit, and the scary ones look like the love child of old man Benjamin Button and ET.

But after nine months of incubation and who knows how many hours of labor, you just do not under any circumstances insinuate in any way, shape or form, that that wriggly pink thing is not perfect. I get it. I spend 30 minutes making dinner and get annoyed at anything other than enthusiastic yums. After spending 9 months on something, a few generic compliments on the fruit of your labor is the least you can expect. Personally, I would want a statue of some kind and a theme song by Celine Dion, Bryan Adams or some other Canadian soft-rock power ballad diva type.

Statue and theme song not withstanding, clearly there is an obligation to say something. As babies really can't do much or have a discernible personality, that sort of leaves you with looks. Do you just chuck your integrity out the window? Make generic, non-committal positive noises? Go out into left field and say the kid smells nice? I just don't know what to say to a face like that.