Notes from the Multi Regional Singles Conference, Feb 24 - 26

Notes from the multio regional singles conference, feb 24 – 26

The conference began on a Friday night. Much to my delight most of my old ward were volunteers.  It was a delight to see them throughout the weekend and to say hello.

Saturday morning was choir practice. 7:30 am. I had thought I would make friends at choir, and this was my one chance to actually connect with people because, historically, that’s what I do.  This did not happen.  I was delighted to see Sister Barlow was the accompanist. She and I chatted while I helped get the music folders sorted.  The choir director, Rob Gardner, was late.  So, the lady hosting the event got the choir organized into clumps of voice parts and began having us sing.  Bro Gardner blew in, changed all the music, and transformed the entire rehearsal into a screaming race.  I got really angry.  Don’t go faster than the people with you can go.  Don’t be hateful and controlling.  And please don’t castrate every man in the choir by insisting that only tenor lines are worthy of singing, especially when you have 20 basses and 1 tenor.  I could handle the speed and tempo of the rehearsal but I disliked someone expecting professionalism from an amateur choir when he couldn’t be bothered to show up on time.  I dislike someone who barks at me for not moving fast enough but feels comfortable stopping rehearsal to give a long lecture as to why we need to watch him.  If I’m not watching you it’s because you aren’t giving me  anything I should watch.

Breakfast was immediately afterwards.  I saw Caroline and her friends, and then had to focus on un-grumping myself.  I can’t make friends or listen to anything when I’m super angry.

Saturday officially began with a “Morningside”, which is a morning fireside.  Brad Wilcox and his daughter spoke.  Before they did there was a cello solo and I was highly amused that a dude behind me felt comfortable answering his cell phone and having a conversation DURING the solo.

So, when a popular inspirational speaker gives a talk with his daughter, it apparently means they both stand at the pulpit together and she smiles and looks pretty for most of his talk. Then, she gets to read a little bit, and he goes back to talking.  She is a gorgeous girl in her suit and pearls but it was a little too 1950’s for me.

From his talk:  “We don’t earn our way to heaven.  We learn our way to Heaven.  The requirements God gives us aren’t just to prove us but to improve us.  Focus on the why and not the what.  We came to this earth to utilize the Atonement, to transform us into someone who could not just go home to our Heavenly Father, but someone who would feel at home in our Father’s Kingdom.  The Atonement saves us from sin but also saves us for eternity.  The Atonement is a doctrine of development.  Pray for help.  The sacrament perfects us.  The temple is to make us like Christ.  In fact, every sacrifice helps to make us become like Christ and Christ prepares us for heaven.Also in Bro Wilcox’s talk was the first time the last verse to “Away In A Manger” (Hymns 206) was mentioned.  These are the words:

Be near me, Lord Jesus; I ask thee to stay

Close by me forever, and love me, I pray.

Bless all the dear children in thy tender care,

And fit us for heaven to live with thee there.

1. The first class was by David Crandall, an anthropologist who has spent the last 22 years living in South East Africa.  He said his class was about the joy we find in meeting friends and strangers along our journey.  He read the hymn Each Life That Touches Ours For Good and then told three stories about people which were specifically designed to make you cry.  Homeless Korean opera singers, Nazis being nice to people, African men who cheated on their wives.  It was an odd bunch of stories that he never tied together or gave any sort of thesis for.  He just left them there for you to do with as you wish.  Perfect for an anthropologist.  J
2. The second period was taken up with videos and art presentation by Liz Lemon Swindle.  There was one quote I liked.  “When your spirit finally lines up with your gifts and abilities then you can do the work you were sent to do.”     The rest of the time was taken up in shilling for Jesus.  Since I very much dislike mediocre art which exploits LDS culture, I did not leave the class in a pleasant mood.
3. I quickly grabbed some lunch and ran to the third class which was by Mark Swint.  The class was “Looking forward with Joyful Anticipation to… THE END OF THE WORLD!!!”   I seriously loved this class and this dude.  He is a pilot who decides to do things and then just does them.  He wrote a book called Compare Isaiah because he wanted to write a book about the most boring part of the Book of Mormon.  He also said that it is hard to get a book about doctrine published if you aren’t a BYU professor.  FYI
4. Revelations 16:16
5. The word Armageddon is from a word which simply means the great plain near Jerusalem where a battle will take place.  It is NOT Bruce Willis and asteroids.  The word Apocalypse means “lifting the veil, revelation” and not skeletons riding horses.  All the scary stuff people think is foundationless.
6. Apocalyptic revelation is when the ENTIRE WORLD knows that Jesus Christ is the savior.  Apocalyptic revelations have been had by every prophet, when they see all things from beginning to end, when the veil is lifted and nothing can be hidden.
7. So, then let’s talk about his burning up of the wicked.  There is lots of “burning” in the scriptures and very little of it has to do with actual fire.  Prophesies are usually fulfilled with very little drama.  Burning is related to what Alma the Younger felt when he was trapped in a hell of a perfect understanding of his own guilt. (Alma 36 & 37) The destruction of the wicked is the end of the world, and the “world” is NOT the earth.  The “World” is wickedness and rottenness and general hatefullnes that we will be glad is gone.  Burning will be what is felt by those who cannot escape the pure knowledge of their awful actions.  AND wickedness is NOT confined to any particular demographic, so don’t even think that.  Basically, life will be nice.
8. When Christ came to the Americas, the taught and baptized the people.  This means there were a lot of good people who weren’t saints.  There are a lot of good people in the world who will recognize and welcome the Savior.  We come from a really Protestant tradition so there is all this angst about worthiness. Guilt isn’t right.  We take a scripture which says “endure to the end” and add on “…in righteousness” at the end.  That’s not how the scripture ends.  It just says to KEEP ON GOING. Malachi 4.  The Savior brings healing.  He never says anyone is going to hell because it’s never over.  Just get back up and keep going.  It’s never over.
9. The function of the commandments is to make us comfortable with Christ.  There was an echo of the hymn from the Morningside, reflecting the “fit us for heaven” concept.  Alma the Younger was released from his pain when he was beset by a burning knowledge of his guilt.  Alma called upon the Lord and was released from that pain so he could begin the process of repentance.  The Atonement releases us and helps us progress.  The Atonement is a doctrine of progression.  And, the gospel is a blessing of peace.  D&C 59:23.  
10. We can have peace in this life AND in the eternal life to come.  Don’t wait for your peace which is your birthright as a child in the kingdom.  The promises in the scriptures all reflect this.  Peace and long life, do not be troubled or afraid.  When Jesus comes again we will welcome him.  Everyone will see it at once so it will probably be on TV. No need to make it magic.  We can greet him with joy and peace and if you don’t feel peace in your life now it’s because you aren’t asking for it.
11. Ask the Lord for His peace and look forward to His coming with joy.
12. The fourth class was Choosing to Find Joy in Choosing to Be Faithful As a Single Adult by Todd L. Goodsell.   He gave everyone a lovely little half-page handout on grey marbled cardstock.  On it was a list of ten things to do: 1. Get a friend. 2. Appreciate married people. 3. Get feedback on yourself.  4. Be healthy (physically and mentally.)  5. Get an education.  6. Get your finances in order.  7. Let God and the Church be part of the solution (not the WHOLE solution.)  8. Make a difference in the world.  9. Learn to talk about your life honestly.  10. Accept that pain is part of mortality.
13. And that’s the list.  I really didn’t want to be in that class when I walked in because Bro. Goodsell is single and there was a lot of quiet fluttering being done by the single women in the room.  But, it was a really good class and Goodsell did a bit of quiet peacocking himself so it all worked out.  I mean, I can understand why he mentioned his degree, the service he’s done, the marathons he’s run, and his work in his stake high council but the only reason to tell us that he has a perfect BMI is because he just couldn’t help himself.  So that was amusing.  Anyway, there were some really good quotes.  Here are a few.
14. “Do not give up hope and do not give up trying but do give up being obsessed with it.” --Pres Hinkley.  Getting feedback from others is helpful but not all feedback is valid.  Being healthy mentally and physically helps you keep functional in the future.  Picture what you want to be doing in 20 years and do what it takes now to reach that goal.  Living the gospel makes it difficult to marry.  By living the gospel you have a much smaller pool of potential suitors but if the gospel is an integral part of your life, compromising those values and goals will not make you happy.  Don’t hide in the basement.  Pick a problem and get out there to help.  Don’t wait for someone to tell you to do good.  Find work that fulfills you.
15. Honesty does not mean that you get what you want. 
16. Life is not a failure if you have experienced pain.   “We want people to be healthy more than we want them to be safe.” Stuff hurts.  The process of becoming like God involves learning those feelings. (Because we are being “fit for heaven” perhaps?)
17. Goodsell also discussed the BYU honors list, telling a story about how he, in college, was aggravated that his Southern California education had not introduced any of the books from that list to him in high school.  Eventually he stopped complaining and just began reading the books.  He began naming books I have never heard of.  This made me mad.  I am a fairly well-read person so if there is a list of classic works that I haven’t heard of then that needs to be fixed RIGHT NOW.   Here is the link:   http://honors.byu.edu/files/GreatWorksList.pdf
18. I skipped the 5^th class because I was exhausted.  I sat in the lobby and listened to some 40ish dudes assess the kind of tail attending the conference.  I was not surprised that they were single.  I also talked to Jeana Cheny, Bishop Ury, and several other people from my old ward.  I was delighted to see them.
19. The 6^th class I attended was Joy in Personal Revelation by Tom Wilson.  Bro Wilson was in my old ward (I had his daughter in my primary class) and he is also in the stake presidency and teaches seminary for a living.  He has some interesting issues surrounding clothing which I have yet to figure out.  However, odd concepts regarding modesty and dressing up and these sort of presentational and representational elements of clothing always come up when he speaks.  Someday I will discover why and what it is exactly about his ideas that sit with me wrong.
20. Anyway, he said that everything in the gospel is designed so that we can have the Holy Ghost with us to guide and teach us.  When you walk into any situation, pray for the spirit to teach you so that you can pull the inspiration and learning you need out of wherever you are.  Church meetings aren’t for socializing or business but for being taught and edified. (I may or may not believe this.) 
21. The pattern for revelation is not “the burning in the bosom” which, in scripture, is specific to the translation of the Book of Mormon, but instead is felt in your mind and in your heart.  Feelings of serenity and peace are better than the drama of a big thing.  Just relax. Revelation comes from time to time, little by little, and guides you along.  D&C 8:23.
22. Anything which messes with your mind or heart can derail the revelatory process.  Smut books, anger, stress, fatigue, poor diet, no exercise, whatever.   D&C 128:1   Having someone occupy your mind or press upon your feelings is the Holy ghost talking to you.  Go outside and think about it.
23. Impressions to the heart are general. A general feeling requires a response.  Do something.  Then hear the thoughts which come to you which are specific messages or direction.  Then the feelings might change to lead you to something else.  Heart, action, mind, heart.  Don’t worry about doing something wrong.  You will be warned if it’s something stupid or wrong.  Just move forward and know that God trusts you to do what’s good and right.
24. It is thru the repeated process of feeling impressions, recording them, and obeying them that one learns to depend on the direction of the Spirit more than the five senses.  Record your impressions.  They are powerfully rewarded if you write it down and do it RIGHT NOW.  God may not repeat himself.  Write while in the Spirit.

Sunday

I arrived late to choir practice because I didn’t like the director.  The choir stood on risers for the entire hour rehearsal.  It got to be kind of fun to sing but then the director started shouting at the sopranos when they didn’t magically guess what he wanted so I checked out.  I actually had to hide my face with the music after he began a lecture with “I know I can be kind of hard but….” so as to not show my feelings.   I also had to hide when he started a lecture about how important it is to bear your testimony and worked it round to meaning everyone there had so slavishly follow his every un-transmitted thought in order to express their love for Jesus.  I REALLY don’t like him.  But, music is music and people will tolerate almost any level of abuse in order to feel the spirit that comes of testifying of Christ along with our brothers and sisters in song so he got a lot of “oh, you are wonderful!” sort of comments.  Which is fine as long as he doesn’t expect them to come from me.

On a side note, I always wonder why people don’t understand that their set of rules are simply stylistic habits.  We got corrected on our vowel sounds, which is standard, and were told to keep them long and open rather than wide and flat in order to not sound “American”.  This was rich because it came right after being told to say a word a certain way because “that’s how you actually say it.”  Long A’s or wide A’s, finial explosive T’s and D’s, all the habits that make a “good” choir are just English affectations.  I can comply to them with ease but they aren’t right because they are best practice, they are done because it’s common practice.  Having a choir sing wide and smiley and broad wouldn’t be bad at all, it just wouldn’t meet choir geek standards of “correctness.”

Anyway, better was the string/piano ensemble from Karen Rosser and Kenny Kuhn from my current ward.  It was so beautiful it made me cry during rehearsal.  I went out walking with Karen afterwards and missed the first choir number.  I wasn’t sad.

Sister Thompson from the Relief Society general presidency spoke at sacrament meeting.  She was cute.  Ether 12:41.   She arrived on Saturday night and was inspired to read us the third verse of Away in a Manger during her talk.  Unknown to her, we had heard this verse the day before.  “to fit us for Heaven.”  Seriously was the real theme of the conference.

I had trouble listening to Sister Thompson because A) my chair kept squeaking and shifting and I was terrified that it would break and B) I kept thinking about something else.  Earlier, before sacrament started, I was traipsing across the room to go chat with Karen Rosser and Marsha Theriot and I walked by Bro Goodsell who was sitting on the front row.  He nodded and said hello, which surprised me, and then warned me not to trip on the cables which were taped to the floor.  I saw his choice of seat was directly over the cables and laughed with delight at his decision to sit there and warn everyone.  I said “way to patrol!” and walked on but not before I saw that I had made him uncomfortable.  Go me.

Anyway, he kept coming to mind during the meeting because I realized that I had completely dismissed him and there was no good reason for it.  I mean, Sociology might be a soft science but that’s no reason not to be friendly.  I kept thinking about him which meant that there was something there I need to learn.  So I started writing. My notes say “Why did I dismiss him?  Maybe I want to be slightly pompous?  Is that who I truly am? Careful and carefree?  Controlled and forgiving?  Neat & comely, patient and quiet, sparkling and funny, weepy and lyrical and mournful and loving?  Perhaps he is a reflection of what I truly want to be.”

I’m not sure what all of that means.  But what I’m choosing to take away from the experience is to not be so quick to dismiss folks.  I think I’m missing out on cool people.

The last quote I have recorded from Sis Thompson is this: “The Lord is near us when we let him and is with us always if we allow it.”

You Have 45 Seconds to read this...

The thing about being home-schooled by a single mother and then going on to work in female-based careers is that I am a feminist not by design but because I never learned how NOT to be one.  Being female and independent is simply who I am.  It is only as I have grown older that I have begun to see where my viewpoint differs from the world at large.

One of the stranger transitions I have made in my life was attending a family ward after growing too old to participate in singles wards.  Now, to clarify, I love singles wards.  They provide unparalleled opportunities for growth, socialization, and service for young members of the church.  The transition from being in the YW program to a Relief Society filled with women who are of similar age is a comfortable one.  The fact that singles wards are supposed to be a place to find a mate was just a bonus.   I was busy playing and serving and learning in the gospel and wasn't all that distressed when I didn't get married.

Thus, when I felt it was time for me to move on to a family ward and find new opportunities to serve, I was shocked to discover that speaking to the male members of my new ward was somehow unallowable.  Shocked not because I had any designs on anyone but because it was just so rude!   I simply didn’t exist unless the man was in a position of “leadership” (i.e. home teacher, bishopric, etc…) or there was business to be done.  This was (obviously) a huge change from the singles wards and rather upsetting because I enjoy talking to people.  I decided I must have been branded a “loose woman” and talking to me would somehow be a lapse in propriety.  I also couldn’t conceive of it being anything but personal to me.  It was personal, wasn’t it?

When I discussed it with a married friend in the ward she laughed at me.  No, Susan, it isn’t personal.  It’s just a rule.  No conversation over forty-five seconds with a member of the opposite sex unless one or all spouses are present.  My lack of a spouse just meant the rule was always in effect for me. 

I added this rule to the list of other odd rules I would laugh over with my other (male and female) single friends.  And over the years I have tried to justify it in my head, thinking of it perhaps as a safety margin for adultery control, or as a sign of respect for one’s own spouse lest they inadvertently grow jealous.  I, after all, am not married so I can’t really know, right?

I’m starting to think it’s wrong.  After all isn’t Zion defined by being of one heart and one mind?  Doesn’t Paul ask the saints in Corinth to have no divisions?  Or call the Galatians foolish and teach them that there is no consideration for Jew or Greek, bond or free, male or female, but that we are all one in Christ?  The Lord himself in D&C says that if we are not one we aren’t His.

I’m not exactly sure what being united in Christ looks like but I am sure I can be doing something to help this process move forward.   I need to remember that I am charged to strengthen my sisters AND my brothers in the gospel.   And, if I can’t do that in forty-five seconds, well then maybe I’ll just have to be really radical and make the conversation last a whole minute!

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

   You are always alone in Las Vegas.  I mean, there are streets full of people and nights full of neon but no one ever sees you.  No one ever looks.  Everyone is transient, everyone is busy, and everyone sees exactly what they expect to see -- and nothing else.  This means you can have webbed fingers, scaly skin, and gills and not a soul in Sin City will think twice.

I have all of those things.  This is why I live in Las Vegas.  It’s also really dry in Vegas.  I like that too.  It helps keep the greenish tinge of my skin to a minimum.  It was alright at home to be greenish.  My elementary school still takes school photos in black and white because a third of the kids are little green water babies.   Baby dolls in Bridge City come in brown, white, and green.   Being amphibious in a small bayou town is fine but being green anywhere else is a Muppets song in a bad way.  Star doesn’t mind but she was raised with all of her cousins playing tag underwater for hours during the summer.  And I mean underwater for hours, not just playing for hours.

Anyway, that’s all well and good for someone who wants to live in port Arthur forever.  But there are things and people and places which aren’t filled with swamp people and those are the things I want to be a part of.  A cautious part of.  A slightly retiring, mostly hidden, well camouflaged part of, but better an observer of the large world than nothing at all.   Which is why I am wandering around the so-called “Arts District” in downtown Las Vegas in the dark and cold Friday night.   It’s a little thing called “First Friday” and it was started by a bunch of folks who think they are bohemian and artistic and decided that roughly two blocks off of Charleston & the Strip should be artistic.   There are some galleries and two giant neon paintbrushes but it takes more than hipsters with masturbatory artistic tendencies to make a thriving art scene.   The Arts Disctrict is as genuine as the casinos up the street.  If you believe The Venitian is just like Venice, The Paris is just like a city in France, and Circus Circus is just like the seventh level of hell, then our arts district is the place for you.

Of course, I’m totally here.   The art sucks but the people are fascinating.   I love to wander the streets and watch the people here.  For every pack of interchangeable hipster kids there’s a guy in a pinstripe business suit sporting a 2 foot tall Mohawk.  For every purple tie-dye draped old lady there’s a pack of overweight comic book nerds looking for girls who might like them.  Every college student is matched by an aging cholo, and every mascara-caked eyelash on the goth boys flutters when seeing a handbag-holding grandma waiting to see her grandson deejay.  Then there’s the food truck culture.  I personally have waited an hour for a shave ice from the SnoOno truck and it was worth every minute for the football-sized tiger-blood drenched tower of goodness.  I know I’m not cool enough to be a hipster, a person who knows food truck people personally, a chick who has Pia Zadora hair and Zoey Dechanel eyes, a woman who is so full of smiling ennui that she shrugs her grandma-sweater clad shoulders and welcomes in all the hordes of admirers who flock around.  I know I’m not that.  In fact I’m prickly. Or maybe it's more like hyper defensive.  It’s the amphibious part of me, I like to think.  The part that likes to pull in its head, sink quietly into the water, pull away from what is potentially a dangerous situation and wait for more information, more data, a sunny patch, a clear exit, something.

Yeah.  That’s it.  And because that’s such a clear easy answer, I know I’m just lying to myself.  Fact is I love people.  I come from a huge family of freaks and I love the freaky in everyone.  The problem is that I’m a freak myself.   Las Vegas is a good place to be alone.  It's really lonely.

Chapter 1 of the book

So, i joined NaNoWriMo and i joined it without a plan.  I am now three days behind.  i am posting each days writing here so i have it on line.

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“Seriously, Star, you suck.”
Star laughed her perfect sparkling perfect laugh. “Not as much as you blow, cuz!”  I wallowed deeper into the bubbly hot tub.  It wasn’t fair.  I know it isn’t her fault that she has perfect creamy skin, red curly hair, and is shaped like the porn version of a Disney mermaid.  (Though, arguably Ariel IS the porn version of a mermaid.)  It’s also not her fault that I’m dumpy, grumpy, and have skin the color of a haddock.  Oh, and insecure.  And whiney.  The whining is all me.
“Still, it’s not fair that your skin doesn’t change colors.” Go team whine!  “If I could just find the right cream for those extra scaly patches….”  I could feel Star roll her eyes.
“Mar, you know perfectly well that a salt scrub and soak makes those patches go away.  That’s why we are here, right?  At the Imperial Spa?  At 3am on a Tuesday?   Which, by the way, is ridiculous.  If we had come before midnight it would have been ten bucks cheaper.  Ten bucks to avoid two little Korean ladies while you salt scrub your gills.”
“Shhh… Don’t talk about them!”
“What, your gills?  Gills?  I can’t say the word gills while naked in a Korean bath house at 3am? Really? Gills.  Gills, gills, gills! My cousin Rosemarie has gills!”  She stopped and cupped a perfectly maincured hand around a shell like ear.  “What? No screaming humans?  No panic in the street?  Wow!  I can say the word gill and ninjas havn’t dropped from the ceiling!  Amazing!”
Star turned to see how her scarcasm was doing.  I had only my eyes out of the water and was trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.  Star sighed.  “C’mon Mar, stop hiding.  I’m sorry.  It’s okay.”  I started to slowly ease out of the water.  “Just don’t sulk.”  I tried to rise up in the least sulky way possible.  I was unsuccessful.
“You just don’t get it, Star.”
“I know, I know, I don’t have to shop for swimsuits which hide my gills like you do.  I’m only half [amphibious breed/race name] and therefore can’t really know what you are going through.  But still, you can breathe underwater!  It’s so cool!  You get to do all sorts of cool things!  You can go shipwreck diving with Uncle Roy, or help Nanna Boatman when she gathers herbs in the swamp, or even go native like Uncle Bobo and just hang out with a wad of moss on your head all day and chew on crawfish.  You officially have a superpower and that gives you choices.  It’s way better than my lame superpower.  Being able to hold my breath for ten minutes qualifies me to be a pool cleaner.”
“Or be a mermaid at the Silverton.”  We both snorted.  “I love that you have that gig, Star.  Who else gets paid to float around in a giant fish tank while wearing a sparkly outfit and wave to little kids and drunk dudes like you do?  Seriously, best job ever.”
“Well, they certainly pay me better than those bitches at Disney.  Chasing fish and blowing bubble rings for kids is more fun that that stupid princess wave I had to do.”
“Hey, let’s go in the herbal steam room, ’k?  I still have an itchy patch on my left side.”  We got out of the hot tub and walked toward the sauna.  “It is a sweet gig even with the drunks tapping on the glass and all the creepy backwoods guys eyeballing you as they stroll out of the Bass Pro Shops.  I’m also really glad you don’t live in L.A. anymore.  I know we are small town but L.A. is dirty and spendy and -- HOLY CRAP IT’S HOT IN HERE!”
We eased down onto the benches, our breathing shallow gasps of hot herbal scented steam.  “Stop complaining,” Star gasped, “You always….” breath…”  say that.  It’s so…” gasp..” wet in here that you could …” pant…” breathe through your flaps…” wheeze…” anyway.  I’m the one..”  huff….” dying.”  
She was right, as always, so I eased open my gills.  They are conveniently placed on my rib cage in order to always look like a fat roll under my boobs.  Sexy, right?   I flared them a bit and “ Hot! Still hot!  HOT!! Why are we in here again?  How long do we have to stay? Boiling herbal flavored pain!”  I bolted for the door.  Star was right behind me.  “Super cold pool?”
“Super cold pool.”   We practically jumped into the sunken tub filled to the brim with cold blue still water.  “Aaah…  Let‘s never go in that room again.”
“Yes, let’s never.”
“We always say that don’t we.”
“Yup.  We always do.”
A few minutes pass.   “So, Star, do you think it’s time to start drying off?”
“What?  Not until that white stuff is gone.  We are gonna clear that mess up if I gotta sit you down on one of those little weird Korean stools over there and scrub at you myself!   That patchy scratchy stuff would give Nanna and Mam-maw a fit if they saw it and you know it.  I don’t get  why you gotta be so dry all the time, anyway.  You’re swamp people.  Water is GOOD.”
“Um, hello, I turn green?  When I’m not shiny and iridescent? And I smell like a fish?  Hello?”
“You only smell when you haven’t been IN the water.” Star grinned.  “There are these newfangled things called BATHS and while you might be too backwoods to know it but they use this neato new stuff called SOAP!  It’s smells reeeeal purdy!”  Star’s accent had grown increasingly more Texan as she went on.
I rolled my eyes.  “Shut up.  Your accent sucks.  You sound like someone from San Marcos, not a respectable woman from Bridge City, Texas.   Don’t splash water at me!  They make you get out of the pool for that!”
“Oh, please, at this time of night?  That kid up front is too busy reading her manga porn to come back here and see if we are following the unposted rules.”
“Well, still.   Anyway, let’s get out.  I’ll let you look at the white patches and then we can start drying out.  Those red terra cotta ovens upstairs are calling my name!”
" Fine. Those patches really aren't changing all that much anyway."
We got out and began the process of drying off and getting the spa issued pink clothing out of the lockers.  The second floor of the spa is co-ed and clothing is required.  All the hot dry rooms are upstairs.  I am a big fan of hot dry places.  It’s why Vegas is so fantastic.
I was pulling my shirt on when Star said “Are you sure it’s not gill rot?’
“No!  It’s not gill rot!”
“Athlete’s foot?”
“On my elbows? No.”
“SARS?”
“No.”
“The HIV?”  She pronounced it “hiv” to rhyme with liv, as in Liv Tyler.
“I don’t have the HIV.  Or the Herpes.  Or the Clap.  Or any other communicable sexual disease.  You have to have sex to get those, generally.”
“Right.   Right.  I keep forgetting.”  She snorted as she pulled her t shirt on.  “But, those patches are weird looking.  Have you called Mam-maw?”
“I’m not gonna call Mam-maw.  She’ll just tell me to rub mud on it.”
“Well, maybe you should rub some mud on it.”
“I’m not gonna rub mud on it!  It’s just a dry patch.  I’m probably just molting.  Perhaps I’m developing new less scaly skin.  I’ll just wait it out.”
“Molting?  Birds molt.”
“Snakes molt.”
“You’re not a snake.”
“And it’s not the HIV so I think your medical knowledge is somewhat questionable at this point.”  We had made our way upstairs and faced an area full of black leather recliners with doorways around the room.   “Terra cotta ovens or terra cotta bead beds?”
“Mmm… well, it’s about 4am so both sound like great places to sleep.  You pick.”
“Ovens.  The bead beds are too comfy.”
“Okay.  Dachau it is. “

We opened the door to be greeted with a dark room and blast of heated air.  We quickly shuffled through the ridiculously hot marble surface of the first room into the back room where eight small clay huts offered up open coffins of red lighted heat.   Each little dome had a bamboo mat and a small block pillow.  We crawled inside and looked up at the tiny red bulbs inside the low ceilings.  I heard a muffled “ What is the point of this again?” coming from the neighboring oven.
“I dunno.  Something about the amazing radiant properties of scalding hot marble and terra cotta clay.”
“And the teensy heat lamp?  What does that do?”
“Make it cute?  I don’t know.  Ask someone who works here.  Or better yet, be quiet and enjoy the skin tightening heat.  I’ll set the alarm on my phone in case you fall asleep.”
“Right, like I could sleep in an oven…”  Star trailed off and after a moment I heard her snore.

Monday

Bleh. It was a lovely day and all I want to do is get out of town. Today's picture is a countdown callendar:

I'll cross stuff off as the days go by. They can't go quickly enough. =)

Sunday night stuff

The above heart is my drawing of my friend Christopher's tattoo. I am thinking about getting it done myself but.... I have commitment issues so it probably won't happen. =) However, I love it a lot.


This is what I drew after listening to The Killers song "All These Things That I've Done."

And this is what I forced Jill to draw on me with a sharpie to see if i really wanted a tattoo...

I don't think I will really get one but it was fun while it lasted.

The Great Wave off of Kanagawa

Obviously melty beads are the perfect forum for recreating the famous Great Wave painting. They are also the same colors as every single Ocean Pacific icon. This is both.

And ... apparently the "4" on my iron is too hot. Totally melted the base as well as the beads... Oops...