A Plan of Salvation?

Since leaving the Mormon faith I have driven up a winding road of unnatural events.  I have sat in bars and drank till I was drunk,  I have made friends with people I used to fear,  I have had sex, and now I even find myself (Spoiler Alert!) entering some sort of actual romantic relationship with a man who is not at all a “Mormon”.   I will be expanding on the interesting dynamic of NON-Mormon love making, but for now I find myself somewhat bothered.   There is a tiny thought nagging my brain.  Nothing huge...just,“What is the meaning life?”  Up until now I always knew what the meaning of life was.  It is a test to find out what planet you will live on for eternity.  If you are good you get your very own planet like Jesus….long pause….

So it looks like my old system of understanding life has expired.  Something feels lost in my physique.  It’s not God and I’m not at all cheesy enough to say it is love. So what is it?  What is it that keeps me up at night staring the ceiling feeling… blank?  In many ways you miss the simplicity’s of Mormon living.  I knew the meaning of life.  Every day I knew why I was here and where I was going.  Now I’m driving in loops.  

This week I believe I experienced my first midlife crisis.  And like any good midlife crisis it manifested it’s self in a car.  This car to be precise.  

For some reason I was enamored with the thought of owning this very expensive sports car.  I imagined myself driving it to my family reunion looking accomplished.  I imagined driving down the road catching everyone’s eye.  I even imagined driving it to the singles ward and showing off what not paying tithing can do.  For about a week I stared at this photo thinking how my life would be better with this car.  If day dreaming felt this good imagine how amazing it would feel to have my foot clenching its gas pedal.  I have the money…or I could find it somehow.  I don’t have kids, so no need for 4 doors.  This thought almost felt sad but then I remembered how lucky I am NOT to be married to Pillsbury (See: Princess and the Penis). Perhaps buying this car would be a middle figure to the churches “live well within your means” and “get married ” mentality.   The car is not practical and is not a family car.  I can do what I want with my money now and more importantly my life.  Maybe what I want to do is drive. 

I didn’t hit me until I started cleaning out my boring old Toyota Corolla to sell it.   The strange thing is I can’t say what it was that hit me.  IT I guess was the realization that my life is empty and I am filling it with a Spice Orange bumper and white sport strips.  The car is beautiful.  No denying it.  It is 25 thousand dollars of fun.   But this car is not going to make up for a lifetime of purpose.   

I decided to do something I have not done in a long time.  I dug through some old boxes and found my patriarchtical blessing. (The Mormon blessing that tells you your future)  I used to read it all the time and it would give me comfort.  I have not looked at it in a year. 

“Well that was a mistake” I thought as my eyes filling with tears.  All that I accomplished was to awaken a deep longing to retrieve my old mindset.  I honestly miss it.  IT of course being that feeling of purpose. 

My friends who read this blog I’m stumped.  Every post I like to find some resolution.  Some sort of thought to tie up all the confusion.   I’m an active and engaging person.  My job is rewarding, my friends are fun, and my hobbies are extensive.  I am a writer and performer who feels alive and empty at the same time.  What am I doing here?  Why do I get up and go to work?  How do you find a reason for your existence and what keeps you moving forward? 

The Sherlock Tea Party

“I drink coffee now…sort of…well… okay I drink hot water from the coffee machine.  But it’s a start!” I told my co-worker.  Zach just turned his head and laughed.

“Be careful with that stuff.  Water is addictive.”

People of the world really cannot comprehend a life without coffee.   It is their life blood morning, noon, and afternoon.  I was born with the gift of an over abundance of energy.   My to do list is usually very long and mostly un-necessary. 

#1 go to work and stay late for no reason

#2 go to gym to watch dancing with the stars

#3 Go to board game store for chess set.

 #4 Go to another store and compare chess sets. 

#5 Go on line a look at chess sets.

#6 Go to Walmart and just buy the exact chess set you saw on step #1 for 2 bucks less.

#7 Cook a casserole

I’m not sure I could handle an energy boost.  I might end up buying 5 board games and cooking a four course meal for one.  I figured I should give coffee another try because it is SOOO in these days.  I got jittery.  I found that my hand would not stop shaking.  I was talking at an alarmingly fast rate, and I think my eye was twitching because I got some very interesting looks from my customers.   So no, coffee is not my jam.  I have to say I’m grateful for that.  I wonder if it’s just me or if other defective Mormons share my un-caffeinated life style.  Anyone?  

Regardless of whether I need it I’m going to enjoy it.  Not often but on special occasion.  A few weeks ago I decided to throw a tea party.  When my grandmother was moving out of her home I begged her to give me her beautiful silver tea set.  She was going to give it to my uncle who would set it on a shelf and never look at it again.

“Honey, you don’t even drink tea.” She said.

“No grandma.” I confided in her,  “I’m leaving Mormonism…forever! In fact I even snuck some alcohol from your wine cellar!” (see: My first Attempt at Alcoholism)
  

“Is that so!  Well congratulations sweetie.  I’m proud of you” She said.  My grandma  kicks ass.

So now 9 months later it was time to put the tea set to good use.  I invited all my no-mo friends over to watch the new episode of Sherlock and told them I would provide biscuits and tea!  I was so excited to go and buy Tea!  I danced down the aisle picking up box after box.  I read the labels and literally held them in the air and waved them around when I found one I like. I must have bought at lest 7 different Teas.  I’m sure people thought "That woman has a serious Tea addition" as they watched me pecking about the Tea.  I was going to throw a real tea party and I must say it was a jolly good time!

I wish I could convince my mom to drink coffee.   She is in her 60’s and still works like she is in her 20’s.  Every day she drinks a gallon of Diet Coke.  Her teeth are riddled with cavities.  I’m sure all those sugars and chemicals are doing wonders for her health.   But she will not listen to me.  It's thoughts like this that bring me back to harsh reality.  Seeing how the church hurts the ones I love. A dead con-artist has convinced her caffeine is a sin.  She will look down on those in line at Starbucks and say “oh I’m so glad I don’t have that problem” then pick up her large Coke no ice and be on her way.   I’m not sure when I will lose the pep in my step but it’s nice to know that coffee will be there for me when I do.

Defective Condom

On news year eve I made a goal.  During the next year of my life I would have a Non-Mormon relationship with a man…or woman if that’s the way I go.   I have had to overcome many fears when it comes to dating outside the faith. (See: Mosters of Men)  And I still have a ways to go.  At this point in my life I had had sex with not one but TWO men.  Dahana was my first and Brad was amazing.  Ironically I met Brad on New Years.   Well… met is a strong word.  More like I got drunk, saw him, grabbed his face and said, “My God you are pretty.”   Maybe not my most suave line but it got the job done.   Brad and I did not have sex right away but it was clear from the get go this adorable young Jew boy had hoodtspa.  

Brad and I made out several times before we finally had sex.  The sex was fun and sweet and innocent.  Unlike Dahana who bent me every which way Brad was less experienced.  Brad was more fun…Let’s just say he was packing a bigger overnight bag.   It took a while for him to fit it all in there.  For the first time it hurt.  One of my favorite qualities about brad was that we had nothing in common.  As a theater going, guitar playing artist I rarely find myself enamored by sport enthusiasts and mathematicians.  One morning  Brad decided to show me a new math equation he had learned.   He whipped out a piece of paper and started doodling all over it. He got me involved like it was a bonding experience.  “and the square root of 4 is…?”  There I was naked in bed and the most exciting thing this boy could think of was rearranging integers.  “I would like to rearrange your integers!” I said.  Brad just stared at me and asked “Can you please take this seriously”.   It was clear that Brad did not inherit the Jewish sarcasm gene.  

Though we had fun I knew that in order for me to really step into the dating world I would have to overcome a different problem.   A strange feeling started taking over.  I felt self-hatred and cruel thoughts of disappointment.  Phobias began rearing there ugly heads.  Tho I did not feel guilty for actually having sex ANYTHING affiliated with sex was mentally banished from me. The guilt was displaced.   I would never admit I had sex...only making out.  I could not even say the word “hook up”.  I still flinched at sex jokes and condoms…forget it. My new Non-mormon roommate  gave me a few condoms telling me I needed to be safe.  I put the condoms in my room but then I was attacked with anxiety just knowing there were in there.   I felt ill at the thought of owning a condom.  As I was cleaning my room I saw a stray condom lying on the floor.  I literally collapsed, and started heaving almost in tears.  You would have thought I saw a bloody finger.  All I could think was GET THEM OUT OF HERE! I could not touch it. Seriously I felt pain coming in contact with these things.  I quickly put on my gloves and grab all the condoms and hid them in the living room under the love seat.  As long as they were not in my room I was still a good person.  I could pretend they were my roommates.  This went on for several weeks.  If Brad came for a night and left the condom wrapper on the floor I would suffer a small stroke when I found it.  The panic and guilt and shame!

 One night I confessed to my friend Debi that I was afraid of Condoms.  Debi was silent for a moment and then busted up laughing.  “Wait how?  You have had Sex? Don’t you use condoms!?”

“Yes of course! but I never actually touch the condom.  I let the guy deal with all that messy stuff”

“Wow. Nope.  I’m not going to let you be practically a virgin and be afraid of Condoms.  That is a Frat boys dream.  I don’t want you to be taken advantage of.”  With that she went into her room and retrieved two condoms.  “I want you to open this condom.”

“NOPE! NO NO I won’t do it.” I asserted.

“Why?” She demanded.

“I don’t know.  I just cannot do it.  I'm just broken.”

“Well lets fix ya up!  I’m not driving you home until you open this condom and look at it.”

“…Fine.  But I am not going to like it!” With that I put on my gloves and started pealing back the paper.  Debi started to object to the gloves but held her tongue  It was progress.

I spent about 20 minutes exploring the condom.  It was rubbery and there was goo on it. “AH, GROSS!  Is this wet?”

“Oh my... it’s lube.”

“lube? What is lube…lubricant? Why? Oh...” 

“Just don’t worry about it.” Dedi smiled 

I’m not going to lie I still feel uncomfortable.  Debi mostly laughed at me as I squirmed.  Then Debi picked up my purse and put the second condom inside.  

“Whoa!  Whoa!  What are you doing?”

Debi looking at me the way your mother looks at you when you are not wearing your seat belt. 

“You have to keep this on you at all times.  You don’t have to look at it. It is in a side pocket.  But every sexually active woman need to stay protected.  You are not a Mormon anymore and you have to take on the responsibility for yourself."