Gut-Spilling Syndrome (the Anti-Blogging Blog Post)

When something really hurts me, I don't like to share it. When something is really important to me, I don't like to talk about it. Such tendencies are difficult when you run a blog.

The source of my blog material is my life. If I don't share, I have no blog. I've had to get used to sharing some of my thoughts and feelings, although some things are always off the table (you'll never hear my actual political views unless you ask). The problem is, though, once you get used to sharing, it's tempting to treat the entire Internet like your diary. I call this Gut-Spilling Syndrome, and it's an issue.

Case in point: relationships. I've seen some blogger peeps spill intimate deets about their interpersonal relationships all over the web. If the other person in the relationship assents, then there's not really anything ethically wrong with that. But. The relationship really isn't just between you and this other person anymore. It's kind of between you, the person, and anyone who reads about it. And make no mistake—these relationship interlopers will give you their opinions whether you want them or not.

Several years ago, I saw one blogger couple share some pretty tender stuff about their marriage. Their blog audience took that as an opportunity to tell the couple about the flaws they perceived in the relationship. I read through the comments: very nosy, very over-reaching to the point of being horrifying. I thought people were trying too hard to armchair diagnose these people they'd never even met. Later, the couple decided to separate, and in their blog, they parroted language similar to the the comments folks had made years earlier.

Were the commenters clairvoyants who highlighted issues the couple refused to acknowledge before? Or did their words get inside the couple's heads, sowing doubt and raising questions about the solidity of their marriage? Either is possible, but no matter what actually happened, the bloggers spilled their guts to strangers and...pardon my language...prostituted their relationship repeatedly to milk content for the blog.

Don't get me wrong: I think there's a place for going authentic and personal in this medium. I just don't think it's appropriate or useful to treat a blog as a sort of diary and commenters as therapists, though. I just don't.

My Review of All Phase Three Marvel Movies So Far

After I got my appendix out, Favorite Cousin texted me and informed that I must have angered the Marvel gods by saying that I don't like Winter Soldier.

My response? Maybe. But obviously the Marvel gods were appeased by the sacrifice of my appendix, because during my surgery, Robert Downey Jr. announced that Avengers: Infinity War was going to be released a week earlier than planned.

The crowds went wild! And by crowds, I mean Baby Brother. Though it doesn't take much for him to get wild about Marvel movies. He texts me about Avengers: Infinity War almost every day. 

All Phase Three movies that have come out so far share a common quirk: they all seem more like they're building up to Avengers: Infinity War than being a complete movie. Like, the entire phase is just working itself up to one big payoff. Which I guess is all a series ever does. But still. Part of me feels like I've somehow been cheated because I had to watch six mostly unrelated movies just to be able to watch one action-adventure flick. The other part of me enjoyed the journey too much to care.

Without further ado, and before Avengers: Infinity War arrives on the scene, here are my reviews of Phase Three (so far).

Captain America: Civil War: Okay, I loved this movie a lot. It whetted my appetite for Infinity War because it proved that the Marvel peeps can handle a huge ensemble with a deft hand. Everyone got a good moment. Jokes were made. Cool fights were had. Water trucks were thrown. This movie is super long, but it doesn't feel long. Even if it did, it's worth sitting through just for that airport scene.

My only real complaint about this movie? The central conflict wasn't resolved by the end of the movie. And Captain America can't stop being Captain America! That's not okay! (All right, that's two real complaints, I guess.)

Also, Cap was right about everything. Tony was wrong. His motives were good, but he was wrong. Don't fight me on this. I am prepared to defend myself. #teamcap

Doctor Strange: So the first time I watched this movie, I was underwhelmed. Dr. Strange's character evolution was not convincing. I didn't believe that he was willing to sacrifice himself for all of humanity because he didn't seem to have grown that much. On a second viewing, though, I realized that everything in the movie pointed to him not actually changing but just transferring his arrogance to his magic. He sacrifices himself for all of humanity because he believes he's the only one who can, not because of humility. Was he wrong? No, I guess not, but he's still kind of a jerkface. Maybe someday he'll learn. Maybe.

The movie had a bit of a spiritual bent, which I enjoyed. Though I'm still confused about why they can do magic without the sling rings but they can't cross dimensions without them.

Completely unsubstantiated criticisms: footage of car accident and surgeries was gross and disturbing. Car accidents scare me. I do not like medical stuff. My mom does like medical stuff. She enjoyed this movie when we forced her to watch it with us last month. She also commented on how realistic Dr. Strange's arrogance was.

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2: The first Guardians of the Galaxy pushed the definition of a superhero movie a bit. They cast a comedian in the lead role, had a cast of seemingly underwhelming characters, and added unparalleled amounts of crassness and schmaltz (and 80s references). The product was unusual—but people loved it. So for the second go-round, I guess they decided to do what they'd done before, just with more. More crassness! More schmaltz! More 80s references! Were they successful?

(Full disclosure: I saw this movie immediately after a sort-of breakup; I cried on the easy chair for half an hour and then took my brothers to the theatre. So that incident might be coloring my perception, but frankly I think that the answer to the question "Were they successful?" is a resounding) NO! This time, they hit too many wrong notes. I was embarrassed by the overabundance of sex jokes, particularly since I was watching with my teenage brothers. The plot was too predictable. Good things included: the opening sequence. Mantis and Drax's weird interactions. Peter and Gamora's weird interactions. Yondu's character arch. Digging deep into Rocket's issues. But everything else was the worst.

P.S. Am I the only life form on this planet who doesn't like Groot?

Spider-man: Homecoming: I thought this movie was pretty close to perfect. Tom Holland's version of Peter Parker is adorable. I was having all of the protective big sister feels about him. Also, the movie actually managed to somehow be a superhero movie while accurately capturing the reality of being a teenager: Weird unspoken romantic connections. Going on that long-anticipated date and being awkward as all get-out. Worrying about what your crush's dad thinks of you. Not ending up with your romantic interest at the end of the adventure.

Thor: Ragnarok: My feedback about the first two Thor movies was mostly that they were boring and took themselves too seriously, but that Darcy was pretty cool. This movie has no Darcy (boo) and no Jane (meh). But everything else got better (yay)! The characters were better. More characters and settings were added. Everyone stopped taking themselves so darn seriously. Like, the whole movie just exuded fun. I could tell everyone was having a good time. Of course, there was a split second at the end of the movie where it was unclear whether Loki was still alive. Because it's not a Thor movie if Loki doesn't die at the end.

Black Panther: I honestly was not sure what to expect from this movie. It definitely didn't feel like a superhero movie. It was good, though. Like Doctor Strange, it got pretty spiritual (although it didn't ever quite get into magic). It also got pretty political. Civil War was kind of pseudo-political, but there were no pseudo-politics in Black Panther, just real ones. However, it wasn't so political that I hated it, and I thought that, like in Civil War, they did a good job of balancing two schools of thought.

Now let's talk about the best part of the movie: Princess Shuri. I loved her. She's great. I just want her and Peter Parker to meet and be friends forever.

Not Our Place

Season Two of A Series of Unfortunate Events just came out. Once again, the series has reminded me to consume media and use social media platforms in a responsible way.

Several years ago, following some kind of national tragedy, a classmate posted something on Facebook that I’ll never forget. (Disclaimer: by that I mean, “I’ll never forget the gist of it,” not that I have it memorized or something.) The classmate said something to this effect: one of their family members once passed away in a violent incident. People of all different political views seized the incident to promote their preferred political causes. The classmate said that while all of these people had points, using this classmate’s family member’s death to promote their own agenda was incredibly insensitive and interfered with the family’s grieving process. Basically, the classmate suggested that we not use tragedies that didn’t personally affect us to further our political causes. At least not right away. There should be a space that’s private and only for grief before political rallying begins.

That perspective deeply affected me. Over the years, I've come to agree that space is needed for people to grieve after tragedies. In fact, I would argue that maybe the political rallying should never begin. Obviously there's value in talking about the meaning of things, but is it our place to decide the meaning of someone else's personal experience? Is that really okay?

When my classmate shared their feelings on the topic, another classmate retorted that they believed the personal is political. It's okay to believe that, and it's okay to use our own personal experiences to promote our political agendas if that's what we want to do. But it's not really okay to decide for other people that their personal experiences must be politicized.

To Whomever It May Concern

According to Timehop, four years ago today I tweeted a blog post written by one Eli McCann.

I've talked about Eli McCann's blog here before. Don't necessarily consider these mentions an endorsement for Eli McCann; I definitely can't say we share the same beliefs even though we're members of the same religion. I don't agree with a lot of his conclusions. However, I find his writing to be interesting, thoughtful, and funny.

This is the post I tweeted. I tweeted it because it reminded me of what was happening in my own life. Now, four years later, I find myself in a similar situation as I did then. The post still strikes a chord. It's about a profound strain in a relationship with a friend who roomed with him on a tropical island for a year. I'll share some relevant segments with you:

...we were both angry with one another. Really angry with one another.

I won't go into all of the whys and hows. Frankly, I don't think either of us even know all of the whys and hows. But in our final weeks in Palau we had grown apart considerably. We never really talked about it. But we both knew that serious frustration had built up, and we got to a point where both of us resented the decisions and actions of the other, from the benign to the significant....

...I had made some decisions that really really upset Daniel. I didn't know that they upset him at the time and I didn't believe he had any reason to be upset anyway. Many months later, when we finally spoke candidly, I learned how life looked from his perspective and I could see how some of my actions could have been so insensitive and hurtful to him at that time. And I felt absolutely terrible about this. Daniel reports that he experienced something similar on his end after he considered some of his own actions and reactions.

Don't get me wrong. We never hated each other, or even stopped caring about one another's well-being. We had just lost a lot of what we had, and all of this because we were acting in ways that were extremely hurtful to the other without ever discussing it....

...He was the one person who could really understand everything I had just gone through for what was probably the most difficult year of my life. And he didn't even seem to care about me or, apparently, intend to ever see me again.

I hated that this was the way he had chosen to make me feel. I hated that I had done whatever I had done to him to make him wander off so callously and carelessly. I hated that I didn't really know what that thing was that I had done. I hated that I hated when this moment should have induced feelings of nostalgia and love and profound significance.

When I tweeted out the post four years ago, I prefaced it with, "I may have cried while reading this..." I'm not going to say that again, but if I did, I wouldn't be lying.

Now I'm going to give you some unsolicited advice. I've always liked this quote by Ambrose Bierce: "Speak when you are angry and you will make the best speech you will ever regret." Even though Ambrose Bierce was a total downer, he had a point. We all say stupid stuff when we're angry. So if you swore yourself to a course of action when you were angry, such as that you're going to kill someone for revenge or never talk to someone again to make a point or never talk to someone again to make a point and then kill them for revenge—that's dumb. Don't do it. It's something you decided to do when you were angry and weren't thinking clearly. If you think about it again for five seconds when you're calm, you'll realize that you don't actually want to do that. Release yourself from your angry vow and make new, calmer vows that involve kindness and behaving well and giving others the benefit of the doubt.

If, while you were making your angry speech, you said some mean, mean things to hurt someone else, then reach out to that person and let them know you regret it. You're not sure how they'll receive your apology? Make it anyway. If you wait for signals that show they're not mad, you could be waiting a long time. They probably will stay at least somewhat mad until you apologize! It's a self-defense mechanism. If they stay mad at you, they can't be hurt by you, right? It's just easier for them that way. So you may have to be the first one to reach out. There's nothing wrong with that. If anything, it can be good for ya to practice your humility.

In short, don't kill the relationships you care about because you spoke hastily and are too proud and stubborn to humble yourself even though you regret how things played out. Rant over. Stepping off soapbox. Going to bed.

Total Eclipse

Heeey everybody,

So in case you didn't already hear from LITERALLY EVERYBODY, there was a solar eclipse yesterday.

Everybody else was all excited and chatty and making special plans.

And I'm just kind of in the corner like, "What? What is this? Why is this a thing and why does anyone care?"

Kind of an accurate representation of every social event I've ever attended, actually.

My workplace even held a party with ice cream and fruit salad. Granted, my workplace celebrates everything, but still. Still.

And then all the news outlets were like, "The solar eclipse is the only thing that can bring the divided nation together."

And I was like, "That's Fire Nation propaganda! The four nations are meant to be separate."

Speaking of the Fire Nation, I tried really hard to get someone to commit to invade with me.

First I hit up Little Sister and Little Brother. Little Sister seemed down with it but then I never heard back from her, probably because she's married so she can't commit to bringing down an empire and having a husband.

On the morning of the eclipse, I wished Best Friend Boy a happy half birthday. Then I lied and told him the eclipse was his half-birthday present and asked if he wanted to invade the Fire Nation. He said it was too late of notice to plan an invasion.

All I can say is that I hope everybody enjoyed staring at the sun when they could have been TOPPLING THE FIRELORD.

Please Be Nice to My Baby Sister

I just spent an hour going through a Facebook friend's posts.

I won't explain just how far back I went, but suffice it to say that there was some stuff about Mitt Romney in there.

What was my intention? My intention was to find a status that this person posted years ago, when Older Sister was on her mission. To the best of my memory, the status said something along the lines of how Mormon missionaries don't deserve any kind of respect unless they've earned it. I suppose that's a fair statement, though I didn't love it. What upset me was that, if I recall correctly, in the comments of this status this person and some friends were trading stories of ways they liked to troll the missionaries.

I got really close to leaving my own comment: "Hey, my sister is serving a mission right now. If she were serving here, would you do those things to her?" Something like that. Something just to remind them that, hey, missionaries are people too, and just because you don't agree with them doesn't mean they deserve to be harassed. Yeah, I get it that no one likes to be approached by people they disagree with, but when I went to Nameless Utah College, I was approached by so many political and religious activists that I didn't agree with. I still managed to engage with them civilly, even when brushing them off. I didn't go out of my way to harass them, because why would I do that? (Okay, well, that's mostly true. There was one time when a girl brought voting registrations to the school. She explained to me that the political party that most people in my college supported needed help in the elections. She asked me to register and offer my support. Since I wasn't registered to vote, I took that opportunity to register...for a party that believed the exact opposite of the party she was promoting. And then she had to mail my registration in. So I guess that was a little harassing. But it was still civil.)

The reason I'm thinking about this long-ago status now is that Baby Sister is due to ship out on her mission any day now. Consider it: she has something she believes in so much that she's willing to give up her family, her job, her schooling, her friends, her right to sleep in, her free time, the many Netflix and YouTube shows that she follows, fry sauce, the premiere of How to Train Your Dragon 3 next summer, the ability to celebrate the epilogue day of Harry Potter (September 1st 2017—so close!), and her beloved makeup palette with approximately 7,000 kinds of eyeshadow. Whether you believe that sharing the gospel helps people, she believes that sharing the gospel helps people. And in the end, it's those people that she must be going on a mission for, because the enormous amount of sacrifice required of her suggests that she's sure not doing it for herself.

I guess the title of this post is misleading, because if you see my cutie baby sister when she's out in the mission field, you sure don't have to be nice to her. But I hope that you will not be actively rude to her...and not just because if you are, super irrational Big Sister! Awkward Mormon Girl will track you down and give you several paper cuts.

The End of January

I firmly believe that January is the worst month. It's cold, it's gray, it's miserable, it's blech.

I don't do much in January, so it seems like I always end up writing about strange things. However, I felt like this month's blog topics were particularly eclectic.

Based on the number of views I got on each post this month, it seems like you guys are most interested in reading about semi-political things, followed by the miserable weather in this state, followed by Little Sister's engagement. Sadly, my post about Fraggle Rock, even though my stats say it was shared at least twice, got the second lowest number of views. (It's okay, Fraggle Rock. I still love you.)

That's how the month went, blog-wise. Personal life-wise, it was a very strange month. Not only am I adjusting to getting an insta-brother, I made changes to my personal life in hopes of zeroing in on my next life steps. (Among other things, this consists of finding out that I unknowingly graduated from institute two and a half years ago and choosing to leave the world of improv comedy behind. I'll probably talk more about that later.)

In any case, I'm just glad January is over. February, here I come!

Media and Mobs

Last week, the Netflix series of A Series of Unfortunate Events aired.

I like A Series of Unfortunate Events. It’s an interesting story… my siblings and I once made a truly awful movie version of it…and it taught me a lot about the world. What else could you want in a book series?

In fact, watching the Netflix version reminded me of the two most important lessons that I learned from the books. I think these lessons are a) very applicable to today’s world but b) seldom remembered.

Lesson #1: The media don’t always tell the truth.

(Yes, today I’m going with the old-fashioned use of “media” as plural instead of the colloquial use of “media” as singular. Because pretentious.)

Sometimes the media lie to us intentionally.

Sometimes the media lie to us out of ignorance and incompetence.

Sometimes the media lie to us because they’re unaware of their own bias.

I am in favor of impartial press that reports only on the facts but sadly, it seems that doesn’t happen much. Every news outlet has a bias, a political position that it’s pushing. Because of this, each outlet tends to report more often and more accurately on news stories that further the narrative it believes. Even if you’re aware of your bias and want to get rid of it, it’s practically impossible to do so…at least according to some reading assignments during college. But hey, those were probably biased, too.

In short, any time you choose to believe a news source, you’re taking a leap of faith. Am I wrong in believing that you (and I) are more willing to take leaps of faith for news sources whose narratives align with your (or my) personal values? I suspect that I’m not wrong. Perhaps what we take from the media has more to do with us than with actual truth.

I’m not saying that all news outlets are totally useless…but I am saying that they should be taken with a grain, nay, with a shakerful of salt.

Lesson #2: Beware of mobs.

There’s a recurring theme in A Series of Unfortunate Events: Anything yelled loudly enough in a crowd of people will suddenly seem like a good idea to said crowd of people. Thus, mobs are born.

While physical mobs still happen today, a more rampant form of mobs is Internet mobs. Large crowds of people gather on social media to rant and rave, expressing views that are often inaccurate (fed by the media), or that are extremely disproportionate to the event that caused ire, or both.

The problem with mobs is that a) collectively, they tend to lack common sense, b) they’re practically unstoppable due to sheer numbers, and c) they often resort to violence rather quickly. Sure, mobs that make death threats online often lack the teeth to carry them out, but that doesn’t undermine the fact that throughout history, physical mobs have lynched, tarred and feathered, beaten, and shot people simply because they felt like it. Internet mobs would take longer to reach that peak, but I don't doubt they can get there eventually.

Avoid mobs…and avoid being part of mobs. Don’t get swept into the excitement of a bunch of people posting in angry solidarity on Facebook. Think carefully and rationally before you throw your lot in with anyone.

Please understand that by publishing this post today, I’m not targeting any political group or movement. This is just a general warning about some trends that I’ve seen in recent years…trends that I became aware of by reading an excellent book series.

Fraggle Rock: There's an Episode for That

Timehop informed me that this past week marked the 34th anniversary of the airing of the beloved children's show, Fraggle Rock.

Let's get something straight. Contrary to the belief of some people that I know and even cherish, Fraggle Rock is not some obscure show. It's a little obscure for today's kids, but when it was on the air, it was hot. It was an international program. It got critically praised. It won an Emmy. Not even the Soviet Union could resist it—Fraggle Rock was the first American program that was aired in their country. That makes it historically important.

Jim Henson must have been proud. When making Fraggle Rock, he had a lofty goal to create a television program that would promote world peace. And if every kid in the world had been able to see it, world peace might have actually happened. It's one of the only shows I've ever seen where the characters resolve their differences without changing their fundamental nature. In other words, it's more realistic than a lot of shows that involve some kind of problem-solving.

Although the aesthetic is decidedly eighties, the themes and the humor are timeless. In fact, I would say that Fraggle Rock has an episode for almost any situation in which you could find yourself. For instance:

-You're having trouble with your roommate? Watch "A Cave of One's Own."

-You feel inferior next to the people around you? Watch "I Want to Be You."

-You've been the victim of one too many practical jokes? Watch "Scared Silly."

-You're trying to choose a suitable career? Watch "The Thirty-Minute Work Week," "Gobo's Discovery," "Mokey and the Minstrels," or "All Work and All Play."

-You're materialistic? Watch "The Perfect Blue Rollie."

-You're a pushover? Watch "We Love You, Wembley."

-Your friends don't believe you when you share something important? Watch "The Terrible Tunnel," "Wembley's Wonderful Whoopie Water," or "Wembley's Flight." (Yes, all of these episodes feature Wembley. Nobody ever believes Wembley. It's interesting, because even though he always turns out to be right, they keep not believing him. The turning point is in "Wembley's Flight," when Wembley finally realizes that they're not going to change...and realizes that it doesn't matter whether he gets their validation.)

-You have a hard time getting along with your friends? Watch "I Don't Care," "The Garden Plot," or "Marooned."

-You have a hard time getting along with your parents? Watch just about any episode past the first season featuring Gobo and Traveling Matt.

-You're proud and stubborn, even when you secretly think you might be wrong? Watch "Catch a Tail by the Tiger."

-You're proud and stubborn, and you don't secretly think you might be wrong? Watch "A Friend in Need" or "Gobo's School for Explorers."

-You're a hypochondriac? Watch "Pebble Pox Blues."

-You're greedy? Watch "The Grapes of Generosity."

-You're in an unhealthy relationship? Watch "The Incredible Shrinking Mokey."

-You're a tyrannical ruler? Watch "The Gorg Who Would Be King."

-You have a split personality? Watch "Boober's Dream," "Boober's Quiet Day," or "Sidebottom Blues."

-Your friend or relative passed away? Watch "Gone But Not Forgotten."

-You're a time traveler? Watch "Mokey, Then and Now."

-You want to learn how to better feel the Holy Spirit? Watch "The Voice Inside."

-You think you might be an atheist? Watch "The Bells of Fraggle Rock."

-You want to be an amateur detective? Watch "Inspector Red."

-You're in the middle of a teen pregnancy? Watch "Wembley's Egg."

-You want to see the most perfect series finale in the history of series finales? Watch the last four episodes of the last season.

Of course, in order to appreciate the last four episodes, you'd have to watch the other 92 episodes first.

TOTALLY WORTH IT, THOUGH. Happy 34th, Fraggle Rock!

Heartbroken

Context: No, this isn't a post about the election. The only thing I have to say about the election is this: it reminded me of the series finale of The Legend of Korra. Leading up to the finale, I saw where things were headed, and even though I didn't like it, it at least made some sense. Then, when the finale actually happened, it was different than expected. I still didn't like it, but it didn't even make much sense. It was like some writer had panicked and thrown in some crazy stuff so that the ending was a surprise...and that's about how the election came across to me.

This post is actually about dating. I don't write much about specific dating experiences on my blog. Dating is hard enough without having your flaws deconstructed online by someone with whom you went on a date, am I right? However, it seemed appropriate to share the following experience...maybe because it's less about a fella's interactions with me and more about my own internal struggle.

I was heartbroken. Really, truly heartbroken. A guy I cared about had crushed my little heart. No, we weren't dating, but actual dating, I discovered, is not a necessary component of heartbreak. Even if a relationship doesn't actually happen, the strong feelings can still exist.

Immediately following this heartbreak, I went on a date with a guy from a family that is friends with my family. Soon we went on another date. And another...and another.

He was a nice guy. He was cute. He was fun. He was about to go out of state for college, but he hinted that if I gave him a reason to stay, he would stay.

He didn't have all of the qualities I wanted in a boyfriend, though, and so I wrestled with myself, wondering if the lack of those qualities was important enough to rule him out. Sometimes I thought yes. Sometimes I thought no.

The pressure to date him was strong. There was some pressure from my family and some pressure from my friends. They wanted me to be happy, and, on paper, this was the perfect opportunity. It did seem like the right ending to the way things had been going. Just picture it: brokenhearted girl is brokenhearted. Nice guy steps in. She should let nice guy heal and then win her heart, right? It would make sense. It would tie up the loose ends. But...I just couldn't go through with it.

I thought about it, and I prayed about it. I even flipped a coin repeatedly—not as a way to actually make the decision but as a way to figure out what I was actually feeling. I'd heard that when you flip a coin and pretend you'll go with the coin's decision, you'll know what you actually want based on the results. And, sure enough, every time the coin told me to date the fellow, I felt dread. But whenever it said, "Don't date him!" I felt relief.

Madam President even pointed out to me that whenever the guy who had broken my heart texted me, it made me happy, even when I was mad at him. "But when [the guy who wanted to date me] texts you, you never seem excited."

Eventually, I determined that the next time the guy asked me out, I'd say no. However, I think he could tell that I wasn't feeling it, because he never asked me out again. We went our separate ways, and a few months later, he met the girl he ended up marrying.

So that's my story of being heartbroken and of (possible) heartbreaking. I don't know why sometimes things that logically should work out don't feel right and don't turn out. Nor do I know why sometimes things that logically should never work do feel right and turn out. If you've been through one of those experiences and you're looking for someone to explain it to you, I'm sorry: I can't. But if you've been through one of those experiences and you're looking for someone to commiserate with you and say, "It's not fair," you've come to the right place. It isn't fair. Unfortunately, sometimes that's just the way things go.

Conference, In General

Over the last two weekends, we LDS folk had general conference.

We have church every Sunday and other kinds of meetings all year long, but general conference marks the two times a year when everyone in the world tunes in to hear directly from our leaders.

We believe that God still speaks to man, that revelation didn't cease after the New Testament. We believe in living prophets and apostles. It makes sense, then, that we would set aside time to hear what they have to say.

There are around twelve hours of general conference. On the last Saturday in September, there's a two-hour block (that usually actually lasts around an hour and a half) dedicated to women. My sisters and I often watch it together.

Then, on the first weekend in October, we have the other sessions. On Saturday, there are two two-hour blocks, one at 10 a.m. and one at 2 p.m., and then another block at 6 p.m. The 6 p.m. block is aimed towards the men who have been ordained to priesthood offices. Like the women's session, it tends to run a little short.

The next day, Sunday, we have two more two-hour blocks, again at 10 a.m. and at 2 p.m.

My family usually watches general conference by broadcast from our own home. We snuggle up on the couch, take notes, and eat treats while we watch. However, lots of people watch broadcasts at their church buildings, and those who were given tickets to do so can watch in the conference center itself. (Tickets are free, but there is limited space in the building, so not everyone who wants a ticket can get one.)

There are often religious or political protestors standing outside the conference center. The city has worked with the church to create "free speech zones" around the conference center. Anyone who has something to say to the people coming and going has to be in one of these zones. I have at least once noticed a non-LDS Facebook friend criticize these zones for being a violation of free speech. I wondered if she'd ever seen the protestors at LDS events. Some are very polite and respectful, but there are also some who scream vulgar things, wave graphic signs, and destroy artifacts important to our religion before our eyes. The free speech zone is a good community compromise between free speech and religious freedom, in my opinion, because it allows people to say what's on their minds but makes it possible for those who don't wish to listen to simply leave and avoid potential harassment. You also might be interested to learn that it's not just protestors who have to stay in the free speech zones: I've gone with church-sanctioned groups to sing hymns on the sidewalk during general conference, and church security guards instructed us to stay within the zones. It goes both ways.

Whether I'm in the conference center or at home, I'm always enlightened and uplifted by the words that are spoken in the conference. We're counseled to come with questions in our minds and in our hearts, questions that we've prayed and pondered about. I usually bring some pretty weird questions with me. I'm surprised by how often I receive answers to fit them.

How My Religion Affects My Everyday Life

I (try to) wake up early in the morning, because the scriptures and leaders of my religion recommend it.

I pray, read my scriptures, and write in my journal every morning. Members of my religion are taught to pray and read our scriptures so that we can ask God questions and receive answers. We're encouraged to write in journals to create a personal history for ourselves and our posterity.

I don't drink coffee with my breakfast, because in my religion we believe that coffee is addictive and very bad for you.

When I dress, I wear some types things and not others. Members of my religion believe that men and women should dress a certain way in order to show respect for themselves, for God, and for those around them.

I groom myself. It's recommended by my religion that we keep our appearance tidy, for various reasons. I was never all that interested in brushing my hair or wearing makeup as an older child or younger teenager, but I got onboard the grooming train when I realized that having a tidy appearance increased my self-confidence, which, among other things, increased my ability to feel the Spirit throughout the day.

I go to work. When I'm at work, I try as much as possible to focus on my work and try my hardest. To me, it's a matter of honesty and integrity, values that were taught to me by my religion.

When I talk, I don't use words that some of my coworkers use. I avoid talking about subjects that I feel are inappropriate. I try not to say anything that I would be embarrassed to say in the presence of God.

When I eat, I eat fruits and vegetables. I don't like them, but I know they're good for my body, and I've been counseled to take care of my body.

On my way home from work, if certain songs come on the radio, I turn them off. I was taught in religious classes as a kid that songs about not-so-good things can get those not-so-good things stuck in your head. As an adult, experience has only confirmed that to me.

If I watch TV or read a book after work, I try to avoid things that are vulgar or inane. That's hard to do in today's world. But I was taught to avoid not only some kinds of songs but also other, similar media. I understand why now. What you take in is what you put out into the world.

At some point in the day, I exercise. I like exercising far more than I like eating fruits and vegetables, but again, it's only something I started doing because the scriptures counsel me to care for my body.

I might go out and do some kind of activity. Usually activities involve people. I tend to not like people very much. So whenever I am kind to someone, or smile at them, or help them with something, it's because I know that they are God's children and He wants me to...not because I feel naturally inclined.

When I go to sleep, I (try to) go to bed fairly early in the morning. Again, this has been highly recommended to me by various religious sources. And I tell you what, I've learned for myself that it really feels a lot better than going to bed super late and arising super late.

Over the course of each day, my religion influences everything I do and every decision that I make. As you can see, it influences how I dress, what I eat, how I talk, how I work, how I interact with others, how I entertain myself...and the things I've mentioned in this post only scratch the surface. That's why I get so confused when people say that religion should be kept out of politics. That I should leave my religion out of my politics. (Yes, I do have some politics. Even though I try to avoid politics as much as possible, I still hold some strong political beliefs.)

I can't leave my religion out of anything. It's not like some accessory that I take off and put on at will. It's an ingrained part of me. It will, and should, influence any political decision I ever make. I can't help but feel that, when people say religion shouldn't be reflected in politics, they are ignorant of what religion is. Religion is supposed to guide you in everything. That's what religion is for.

Of course, not everybody is a member of an organized religion, but everybody believes in something, even if the something that they believe in is not believing in anything. Some people, in my experience, have actually made their politics their religion. How they dress, what they eat, how they talk, how they work, how they interact with others, how they entertain themselves, and much more, is all reflective of their deeply held political beliefs. Wary though I am of most political things, I try to respect those who use politics as the framework of their belief systems. I hope they wouldn't ask me to leave my belief system out of my politics. That would be as preposterous as me asking them to leave their politics out of their belief system.

Things You Must Not Do or Else You're a Terrible Person

1. Forget the Alamo.

2. Say, "Disneyland isn't fun if you're an adult."

3. Change the choreography when the choreographer's not there.

4. Say, "Cartoon movies aren't as good as live-action movies."

5. Insist that the Harry Potter movies are better than the books.

6. Insist that the Lord of the Rings movies are better than the books.

7. Insist that any movies are better than the books (except for How to Train Your Dragon; How to Train Your Dragon the movie > How to Train Your Dragon the book).

8. Misquote William Shakespeare.

9. Misquote Abraham Lincoln.

10. Misquote Jim Henson.


An actual quote from Jim Henson, courtesy of ToughPigs.

11. Say you don't like sushi when you actually haven't tried sushi.

12. Say, "You're an adult. You don't need anything for your birthday!"

13. Say, "You're an adult. You don't need anything for Christmas!"

And, my personal not-favorite, 14. Say, "You know what would be fun right now? If we talked about politics!"

Judith

Over the weekend, when I was at my parents' for General Conference, I noticed that there were unpotted pansies on my parents' porch.

AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: Are those-?

MOM: Those are for you, yes.

Meet Judith!

I actually potted her myself. It was really stressful because I had no idea what I was doing.

AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: Did I do a good job, Mom?

MOM: You put rocks in the bottom, right?

AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: Rocks??? You didn't say anything about rocks! Why are there rocks? What kind of sorcery is this???

Anyways, I was anxious to bring Judith home and care for her. My last pansy plant, Tabitha, perished quite soon after we met. I don't know if it was just her time to go or if she was killed off by the horrible weather. It rained almost nonstop when I had Tabitha, and when it wasn't raining, the sun was beating down with the force of a woman pushing out a baby. Why was the weather so awful? Some people blamed global warming. Some people blamed Obama. Some people blamed Obama detractors. Whatever the case, the whole thing was unhealthy for my poor little pansy, and she died.

I was optimistic about my future with Judith.

MOM: If the temperature drops below freezing, bring the plant inside.

I checked the predicted weather for the whole week. Moderate temperatures every night, and no freezing! A good sign. However, the day after I brought Judith home, it began to rain.

AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: Oh, come on!

And then the next day, the predicted high was 82 degrees.

AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: ...what?

And the next day, the predicted high was 91 degrees.

AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: What is this?

Apparently the cause of the terrible weather is not global warming, Obama, or Obama detractors. It's me. Somehow, as soon as I find a plant to love and care for, the forces of nature join together to smite it down.

Happily, Judith is still alive... for now.

A Post for Thanksgiving

My post today shall be divided into two parts. First is the part that I intended all along, and the second part was foisted upon me this morning. (I'll explain later.) But, without further ado, here's what I was planning to say to you today.

I have a lot of things to be grateful for, as I always do. My religion, my family, my friends, my country, my excellent roommates, my talents, my job, my Honda Accord, my super sweet apartment, my chance to travel to New York City this year, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. But I am particularly grateful for my parents.

My mom works as an RN, but being a mom is way more important to her than her career ever has been. This is an unpopular way to live. The thing is, though, is that I've always really needed my mom. Not some motherly caretaker figure. Not an involved teacher, nor a good babysitter, nor a particularly caring daycare owner. My grandmother babysat me and my siblings a lot during elementary school, and I loved her and it was great, but it wasn't the same as being cared for by my mom. I firmly believe that moms have special powers that allow them to help their kids in ways that no one else can. Even as an adult who lives away from home, I still need her opinion or her help because someone else's just won't do. Someone else can't get things right the way that my mom can.

Then there's my dad. Some of the same people who say that fathers should share in childcare responsibilities also say that fathers shouldn't necessarily have the right to be involved in a decision to abort their unborn child. These are just a few of the mixed messages out there about what it means to be a father. It's my observation that some dads are confused and frustrated about their role in their kids' lives. They don't really know what, exactly, they're supposed to be doing.

Well, dads, I can't tell you exactly what you're supposed to be doing. But I can tell you what my dad does for me. Over the years, my dad has driven me to one thousand plus parties and sporting events and college classes when I couldn't drive or was too scared to drive in the snow or had a broken-down car. He's fixed fuses in my car. He's scraped the ice off my windshield on cold winter morning. He's waited up for me to make sure I get home safe. He's taken me to basketball games, Shakespeare plays, movies, delicious restaurants, and musicals. He listens to me rant, even when he can't agree with what I'm saying. He let me read the fifth Harry Potter book before he did because he freely admitted I was a faster reader than he was.

A few weeks ago, I had a migraine, and I called my parents to ask if they had anything with caffeine in it. What I meant was soda, but a while later my dad rang the doorbell. I dragged myself out of bed, still half-asleep, and saw that he had brought me some migraine-strength medicine.

I was barely awake and bleary and grumpy. "I already have migraine medicine," I grumbled. "I was asking if you guys had soda because I don't want to eat anything with this medicine because I'm not hungry." Then I shut the door and went back to bed.

After a little while, it occurred to me that I hadn't even thanked him for coming to bring me medicine. I felt really bad. But then the doorbell rang again. This time, my dad was standing there with two ice-cold bottles of Dr. Pepper that he'd bought for me at the store.

If you're sad reading this because your parents haven't fulfilled their parental responsibilities the way that my parents have, remember that you can be a parent yourself. And then you, too, can experience the parent-child bond, just from the other side.

The second part of the post is a poem that Little Sister wrote this morning whilst watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade. The poem is about her experience watching the parade, and she specifically asked me to share it with you.

Acrostics and Stones May Break Out Groans

Toothless

Hi who are you

America

Ne-yo is a tinman

Kicklines

(here) For Broadway

U need voice lessons

Look, Ma, new bands!

After composing this interesting piece of literature, Little Sister then proceeded to do a close reading of her own work. Her scholarly notes are provided below.

T: When Toothless appeared onscreen, he was met with a "hoorah" and a general jubilee. We're thankful FOR YA, BUDDY!

H: Who are any of the people and why isn't the apple stem wearing green

A: America—see racism quotes above. (There was then an arrow to the following quotes: "Johnny Appleseed is a racist jerk," "I'm so sick of this racist parade.")

N: The Wiz Live! is coming and it actually looks pretty good. NEVER THOUGHT I'd say that but it's The Wiz so it can probably only get better.

K: Rockettes sorely disappointing.

F: Please have every Broadway show and also some of them twice, thanks.

U: I'm confused how you got famous but props to you.

L: SO MANY BANDS.

...Happy Thanksgiving.

In Which I Have Sole

In my further adventures of cooking seafood, I decided to learn to cook sole.

In this endeavor, I relied on a cookbook that my mom's best friend gave me for my college graduation. This cookbook is written by Ann Romney.

You may disagree with the Romneys' politics, but notwithstanding Ann Romney's cookbook is an impressive cookbook. She really appreciates food. I especially like her scallop recipe because it's fast and easy but extremely delicious.

When I first saw the sole recipe, I was all, "I have never even seen this fish in my life and therefore this recipe has no value to me." But recently, my local grocery has suddenly started selling sole fillets.

Obviously, this was a sign that I should buy some and learn to cook them. So I did both of those things. Well, I bought them, but the cooking part had mixed results.

So Ann Romney warned me to only cook the sole for 1 to 2 minutes a side or else it would over-cook.

And I was like, "Whatever, Ann Romney. That's what you said about the scallops. And I ended up cooking those like 3 minutes a side before they reached perfection."

So I didn't immediately scoop up some of the sole fillets when they'd cooked for one minute and thirty seconds. I had a good excuse, which was that I'd touched the spatula to a piece of raw fish and needed to find a clean spatula to scoop the cooked fish. But nature doesn't care about good excuses, and by the time I found a replacement spatula the sole had started smoking.

Now, our fire alarm likes to go off willy-nilly. It goes off when there's steam. It goes off when I open up the oven to get something out. It even goes off when I open up the empty, preheated oven to put something in. And then it doesn't shut off unless we wave a dish towel in front of it. And sometimes it goes off multiple times during the preparation of one meal. And then our landlady comes to our apartment to make sure everything's all right. And then we're like, "Yup! Just cooking stuff! Heh-heh."

However, when the sole started smoking, the fire alarm did not go off at all.

And I was all, "Really? Are you actually ever going to be of use if there's an actual fire?"

And the fire alarm obstinately said nothing.

In any case, the edges of the sole were a bit black and crispy, but overall it was quite good. I ate it with sliced lemons on top, steamed asparagus on the side, and a delicious baked potato. Ann Romney couldn't do better.

A Defense of Ron and Hermione

Shipping is the politics of internet fandoms.

I don’t mean this shipping:

Or this shipping:

I mean the promotion of a relationship from a series.

For example, I would like Toph from Avatar: The Last Airbender to end up with Sokka. So verily I ship Toph and Sokka aka Tokka.

I also ship Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase from Percy Jackson and the Olympians. Phineas Flynn and Isabella Garcia-Shapiro from Phineas and Ferb. And Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger from Harry Potter.

I don't like to get involved in big discussions about shipping much for the same reasons I don't like to get involved in big discussions about politics. Such discussions tend to make people focus on the wrong things.

However, out of all the fictional things I love, Ron and Hermione's relationship is one I particularly cherish. And so given the current turmoil over J. K. Rowling's statement that she regrets pairing them together, I decided that this time, I will throw in my two cents. Or Knuts, if you will.

People say, "Hermione is too good for Ron. Hermione deserves better."

People. How could you say that?!!!

There aren't any guys better than Ron Weasley. There are guys who are different than Ron, but not better.

I mean, look at the kid's qualities. He's funny. He's a loyal friend. He sticks up for others--Harry, Hermione, Neville. He's obviously brave--he puts his life on the line every June and sometimes more often. And no, Ron's not as academic as Hermione, but he certainly is smart. He's a chess prodigy, for crying out loud. Not to mention that he's tall and athletic.

I don't mean that Ron is flawless. My understanding is that out of the trio, Ron is the one most connected with his own emotions. Hermione filters her emotions through facts and logic. Harry constantly sacrifices his emotions to his noble spirit. Ron, however, does what he feels. That means he can be both incredibly selfish and incredibly selfless. He struggles with this pretty much every single book--but in the end, he always chooses to do the right thing. He always comes through for his friends.

This sums up Ron's character arch nicely:

"Dumbledore knew what he was doing when he gave me the Deluminator, didn’t he? He - well," Ron’s ears turned bright red and he became engrossed in a tuft of grass at his feet, which he prodded with his toe, "he must’ve known I’d run out on you."

"No," Harry corrected him. "He must’ve known you’d always want to come back."

We also must remember that Hermione is super annoying.

Yes, Hermione is brilliant. She's talented. She's a good and loyal friend who means well. And the icing on the cake--she's pretty.

But she's still annoying. She tends to be critical and uptight. Ron knows that. He makes fun of it in Book One especially. But he likes her anyways. He decides that he loves her anyways.

Let me repeat: He knows who she is, her faults as well as her good qualities, and he loves her anyways. And she sees his faults as well as his good qualities, and loves him anyways. Wow. What could be better than that?

Some people desire to pair Harry and Hermione. I understand why. Everyone should end up with someone who really cares about them, and Hermione definitely cares about Harry and vice versa.

Yet we'll never know whether a Harry/Hermione relationship would work out, because it isn't in the books. The books go out of their way to show how platonic Harry and Hermione's friendship is, while Ron and Hermione's is full of chemistry and spark.

That's how the books are written. And the books are over. And Ron and Hermione are together, and no controversial interview quotes can change that.

In another universe, in another version of Harry Potter, Ron and Hermione could have ended up with other people. But that's not the version J. K. Rowling wrote.

She wrote a version in which Ronald Bilius Weasley and Hermione Jean Granger were developed in such a way that it's unthinkable for them to end up with anyone else.

I for one am very happy about it.

ANNOUNCEMENT: I am planning to write a relationship Ask Awkward Mormon Girl for Valentine's Day. So please, leave your love-related questions in the comments, and I will give you splendid advice in return.

It's Shutdown Day

My laptop's battery is broken.

Whenever I unplug the laptop, it shuts down within about ten minutes.

It's super annoying.

That's all.

...

...

What? You thought I was going to talk about some other kind of shutdown?

Well. This is just all kinds of awkward.

The Color of Things

There's this long-standing argument between Best Friend Boy and me about colors.

One evening many years ago, we were watching Cast Away. Cast Away is one of the most depressing movies of all time. This is not an opinion. This is a fact.

Depressing movies either make you want to cry or punch something. This one made me want to do both--simultaneously, repetitively, and immediately. However, I didn't want to cry in front of my friends, and there was nothing satisfying enough to punch except for Etch-a-Sketch's cat that was sitting on Best Friend Boy's lap. Had I punched that cat, Best Friend Boy probably would have punched me. So I didn't punch the cat, and instead started arguing with Best Friend Boy as an acceptable substitute for outletting the feelings of extreme frustration and loneliness that losing Wilson had evoked.

We argued about the nature of perception and reality. Best Friend Boy championed reality as, well, a reality. However, I maintained that reality doesn't matter that much.

"What people think about reality, whether it's true or not, is what's important!" I told him. "Perception can change everything."

Rebuttal from Best Friend Boy.

"Think about it," I said. "If I say your shoes are purple, it doesn't matter whether they are or not. I'll still interact with them like they are purple-"

"They're white," Best Friend Boy said.

"Nope, from now on they're purple."

Best Friend Boy implied that he wouldn't be caught dead wearing purple shoes, so I told him fine, they were orange. And I've called them orange ever since. Just to prove a point.

Now, at the time I wasn't being entirely serious. I was trying to burn off some of my excess feelings and also annoy Best Friend Boy because annoying Best Friend Boy used to be one of my favorite pastimes. The part of me that was, in fact, being serious thought only of how a positive attitude can work wonders or how faith in the face of overwhelming odds ignites miracles. "Perception is more important than reality," I said, but I didn't know how true that was until now.

There are people who live in a world created by perception. Every time they see white, they say it's orange. Soon orange is all that exists for them. I could take them to the top of a snow-covered mountain, and they'd look around at the pure, glittering snow and say, "Wow, it's so orange up here!"

This happens way too often for my comfort.

The twenty-first century is awesome. And by awesome, I mean awful. But also awesome. Because the way we're able to so totally and completely delude ourselves can't help but be awesome, right?

Right?

Maybe if I perceive it that way, I'll feel better.

The Funfetti Political Theory

I wish politics were more like this funfetti cake.

Wouldn't the world be a much better place if politics were happy? And fun? And tasted like sugar? Instead they're angry, and stressful, and their aftertaste is nothing but gross. As a rule of thumb, I avoid politics as much as possible.

Well, as much as I can avoid them, what with their being EVERYWHERE. Election season on Facebook is bad, but it just so happens that Nameless Utah College fancies itself a center of social activism. Thus almost everyone from my school posts politics on Facebook out the wazoo.

Me, I don't do politics on Facebook. Every now and again I might comment on something, or like a post. I'm not interested in arguing with people, though, and I know that's exactly what I'd be sucked into should I make any political posts. So I stay out of it as much as possible, trying to respect other peoples' right to their opinions, even when I really don't like those opinions.

Of those opinions, one in particular really bothers me.

I had a classmate who was smart and tough and who managed to get to college even when all the odds were against her. I knew we didn't agree on most things, and she knew we didn't agree on most things, but out of the things we did agree on a mutual respect and appreciation had developed. I told her several times how much I admired her, and she once complimented me on how mature I am (and funnily enough, she was being sincere). Our coexistence was peaceful.

One day, my classmate posted an article on Facebook, raving about how much she agreed with it. I clicked on the article and read away.

The thesis of the article? If people don't agree with your political stance, you should cut all ties with them. Because if they don't agree with you on these most important issues, why would you want to be acquainted with them, anyways?

"Hmm," I thought when I finished reading the article, "is that really any way to live?" I guess my classmate thought so, because within just a few weeks she had deleted me from her list of Facebook friends.

The reason that politics is so unlike a funfetti cake is because people take them way, way too seriously. Having a classmate delete you on Facebook simply because they know you disagree with them is just the icing on the cake (except I just said it wasn't a cake. So it's the, uh, non-icing on the non-cake). Way closer friendships, relationships, and marriages sometimes break up over politics. Or, on the flip side, people get into tirades against total strangers in the comment sections of online political articles, swearing at this individual that they've never met and insulting everything from their opponent's education to their parents to their religious beliefs, for no reason other than the fact that they just happen to disagree.

I'm going to tell it to you like it is. How is it?

It's stupid..

Granted, politics are important. They're a way for us to express how we feel and to put our two cents into the way our world is run. Politics and morals often intersect, too, and especially in those instances there's nothing wrong with taking a political stance.

In spite of all that, though, politics are still just politics. It's an imperfect, manmade system. And when it starts getting in the way of the type of life God would have us live, well, we're in trouble.

See, God has asked us to love one another. That's not easy, of course. Not much of what God asks of us is easy. Plus, people are so, so infuriating so, so much of the time. Especially when you have a deep suspicion that your political beliefs are "right" and theirs are "wrong."

But again, politics aren't morals. Again, they may intersect (a lot of laws deal with morality), but the relationship is complicated. No matter what politics decide, morality remains intact. No matter what we legislate, God's laws remain the same. So there's no sense in letting politics be so all-defining in our lives and in our relationships when they only mean so much anyways.

When you get down to it, everyone who takes a political stance usually wants the same things. Happiness, peace, prosperity, security, stuff like that. Show me a political group who doesn't want those things, and I'll show you a political group that's never really gotten off the ground. Humans pretty much all want the same stuff. We just don't agree on how to get there.

Suppose you are on the first floor of a building with some other people and all of you want to get to the second floor. You and a few others decide to take the elevator. A couple decide to take the escalator. The rest take the stairs.

Would you start yelling at someone who decided to take the escalator, "You're so ignorant, brainwashed and deluded! Only morons think that an escalator is going to get them anywhere!"?

Would you call after the people walking to the stairs, "I can't believe you chose the stairs! This decision defines who you are, and clearly you're the kind of person I never want to associate with again!"?

If you answered yes to either of those questions, you have another problem entirely. I can't do anything for you. Sorry.

If, on the other hand, you thought, "Okay, that might be a little ridiculous," can you see why it would be ridiculous to do the same thing over a trifle like politics?

All I know is, people are made up of so many things. To think that you really know who a person is simply because you know what political party they support is an insult to both them and to you. It's no different than defining a person by wealth, race, or religion. Until you get to know someone--see them playing with their nieces and nephews, look at their baby pictures, know their disappointments, hear about all the kind things they've done for their friends and all the struggles they've had with their weaknesses--any decision you might make about who that person really truly is would be superficial and weak.

Don't define a person's value based on their politics. Don't even start. Get to know who they actually are instead.

If you do that, and I do that, more people might start doing it, too. Then politics really can be like a funfetti cake. The Democrats can be the green funfetti. The Republicans can be the blue ones. The Communists can be the weird yellow ones that seem to be there but that are pretty hard to see. All the funfetti would be in the same cake, and even though the funfetti might not agree about how the cake should turn out, it might at least make the most of the experience of being in the cake together.

Then politics would be fun. And sugary. And covered in frosting. And able to turn lemonade sour when consumed with that particular liquid.

...I think this metaphor only goes so far.