Please Release Me...

Eight years and five weeks ago today, the ward I essentially grew up in split in two. This was by design, and was a good thing--it meant our church was growing in this area. My parents bought the house they currently live in back in 1981. Since that time, without moving anywhere else in the Omaha metro area, they've been in 4 different wards. Growth does that.

Eight years and five weeks ago today, my dad was asked to serve as bishop of the new ward that was created from the split. In the LDS church, no one is paid to serve. My dad had a full-time job, and he was asked to essentially have a second full-time job on top of that. I used to joke that God had to wait until I was all growed up to have my dad serve as a bishop, lest I embrace the stereotypical "preacher kid" mentality and become even more wild than I was as a teen.

In the past eight years and five weeks, my dad has sacrificed his time and energy to serving the people of his ward. He has cried with them, rejoiced with them, laughed with them, and worked with them. Sometimes, he has done all of these things while we--his actual family--were spending time together, having fun. Not that he neglected us at all, because he didn't.

But in the past eight years and five weeks, sometimes his church flock had to come before family. And I completely lost it with him about that fact twice, that I recall. Probably more than that when talking to my sisters.

This morning at his ward's church services, my dad was released from his calling as bishop. A new bishop was placed in his stead. And while I'm sure it is bittersweet for my dad and my mom, I am doing a happy dance. Most bishops in the LDS church serve for about 5 years. So three years and five weeks ago, I started wondering when my dad's term as bishop would end.

I'm happy because the next time Deanne is in town (if she ever decides to reclaim her citizenry here), dad won't have to rush off to meetings. I'm happy because he and mom can go on actual dates, instead of letting "chaperoning youth dances" be their date. I'm happy because he can finish the deck he started building last year. Which, yes, would have happened anyway, but maybe now it will be finished sooner than later.

The demands of both emotion and time placed on a bishop and his family at times feel burdensome. But I know both he and my mom (and probably all of their kids and grandkids) have been blessed by his sacrifice.

That said, it will be nice to have him around more often and help him do some of the projects that have been on hold for eight years and five weeks.

And I certainly picked the right year to get a subscription to mlb.tv. Dad's got a lotta baseball to watch this summer.

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Feminist Kryptonite, Episode 4

I was just too weak-minded to document Episode 3, just a semi-related rant over on my other blog. And even though the show has been canceled and isn't on NBC, it iiiiiiis on Hulu, my friends. Hulu! Huzzah!

And since it's Saturday night and I didn't get to see Iron Man 3 this morning because it was sold out, I am taking a break from grading to watch this not-so-fabulous show and give you all the dirt. But I have one problem blogging this show: way too much happens in one episode. Too many snarky comments I could make, too much crazy and too much drama that is just "can't look away" delicious.

The space in my head that goes completely crazy with this show is how it forces all the girls to worship the man. No shortage of this in Episode 3. A little game called "Ready for Lopez" (you know, the man they've hardly spent any time with) where all the questions are about how well they know Timmy. And the winner gets to spend extra alone time with Timmy! And that extra time is spent...playing pool.

Pool! The BEST date ever, because of all the incidental touching, flirty trash-talking, and making bets on sinking a ball in a pocket (no double entendre intended), which includes Tim taking off his shirt and standing on the pool table kissing.

You know, I went on a date once with a guy and we played pool. I remember he walked past me as I leaned on the table, and as he walked, he lightly dragged his hand across the small of my back. Yeah, it was pretty hot. And he did it with his shirt on, and without shoving his tongue down my throat. It's possible to make an electric connection fully clothed and barely touching. Just sayin'.

Tim sends home a 25 year-old girl who told him a) she is bisexual and b) she wants to live off the grid in Napa after the show. Because the lead singer of a band would do well off the grid in Napa. So he probably dodged a bullet there.

Next up, Ben. Ben takes the girls to a vineyard, because when 7 women are vying for your love, the best place to take them is a place with unlimited wine and Bocce balls (again, no double entendre intended, but perhaps I'm missing a theme). Ben's love language is clearly touch(ing lips) because he kisses EVERYONE. All told at the vineyard, Ben kisses 5 of the 7 women. Ben's a bit of a slut.

Ben has an ex-girlfriend here, remember, and here's where I actually agree with the other girls in the house. Ben, if you want to be with your ex, then be with her and let the other girls get on with their lives. This is the one guy who comes across as a complete dirtbag, mostly because it's completely unfair to those other girls.

One of these girls pulls a TOTAL Ariel, and quits her job "because the chance that he's the one is worth the risk." Ummm, no it's not honey. You don't know him. You saw a YouTube video of him and decided to go to California and compete against several other women for a man. Not worth your career. And really, the whole idea of "competing" for a man...it just reinforces the patriarchy that has riddled me with self-esteem issues my entire life. Why am I watching this again? Oh yeah, entertainment value...

Side note: when one of the matchmakers hands one of the girls a pair of brass balls (yeah, I really am missing out on some fabulous writing, aren't I?) for her courage, Bill Rancic says "This is a family show, now!" Really, Bill? A family show? For what family? A polygamous family of models? (I can make polygamy jokes. I'm Mormon.)

Ben sends home a girl who barely had any airtime at all. So. Moving on...

Ernesto. He's the one I like the most. He's the most genuine, the most humble, and the least whorey. He hasn't kissed a single girl yet. But oh, Ernesto, the date you picked this week...well, behold the patriarchy yet again: all the girls are cooking their "signature dish" to "create a big meal for me." Okay then, Henry VIII. Take my signature turkey leg and shove it up your...Maybe Ernesto isn't who I thought he was.

(Mormon alert: the music for Ernesto's segments brought to you by Imagine Dragons and Neon Trees! Huzzah!)

So the girls cook for Ernesto and end up getting in a food fight, and now we wait to see who will get the first kiss...

Which happens at the end of the show when he sends home a girl with whom he had zero chemistry. Good call on sending her home, Ernesto. Better call--kissing the girl you didn't send home.

"I don't always kiss, but when I do----sparks fly."

Yeah, Ernesto is a player. A different kind of player, but a player nonetheless.

After four episodes, here's my predictions:

1. Tim will end up with Sara.
2. Ben will go back the shrewish ex-girlfriend so they can be co-dependent for ever after.
3. Ernesto will want Shandi, but end up with Alba.

You can see all the diverse women here.

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Rebounding

Today I walked out of the school at 3:38 p.m.

That doesn't happen often. Mostly because I hate getting trapped in the traffic, but more often than not, I'm working late.

I was home before 4:00 p.m., and set about ignoring what the doctor told me less than two weeks ago.

I did laundry.

I made banana bread.

I started an iMovie project I've been wanting to try.

I was rather productive at school today, ticking off item after item on my to-do list, and though I should probably be reading newspaper drafts right now, I'm watching the Braves game instead (I am so in love with MLB.TV).

This is the most productive day I've had in at least two weeks, so I hope that's a sign that I'm legitimately on the mend.

And even if I'm not, in exactly 26 days I will be completely finished with this school year, and on to a new chapter in my career. So in 27 days, I can sleep, I can truly relax. I can hardly wait.

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A Change Will Do Me Good.

Last week, I had an episode.

So I've been "managing" my stress and exhaustion this past week. Bed by 9 (10:00 twice), sleeping in until 6, not taking any work home.

It's a major lifestyle change for me. The weeks leading up the the "episode," I'd been staying up until 11 or later, up by 5:45, lugging work home, barely functioning as I tried in vain to recover from a nasty cold.

But it's a lifestyle change I think I could get used to. Today, I came home, turned on the Braves game, caught up on social media, did a little bit of writing for a blogging class I'm taking, and I'm feeling pretty relaxed. Today is actually the best I've felt since the ER doctor suggested I sleep more and work less. So something must be working.

Only a month remains in this school year, and as usual, I'm amazed at how fast it flew by me. I'm officially not teaching any English classes next year, which will bring about a different kind of stress and expectation, but will ultimately be a good thing for both me and the journalism program.

Change is good, as much as I don't like it, and as hard as it is. It's hard to be in bed so early, it's hard to get to school a little later, and it's hard to not work at home (though it is getting easier to not work at home).

Summer will be here before I know it, and though I do have quite a bit of work to do, I'll still be able to get much-needed rest and perhaps establish new routines. Until then, it's almost my bedtime. So I better get going.

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Feminist Kryptonite: Episode 2, Part 2

Meet Ben. He's haaaawwwwt. And crazy wealthy. And his sister swears he has every quality a woman would want in a husband.

I'm going to pause here to evaluate the matchmakers. Amber actually knows what she's doing. The women she chooses are both smart and beautiful (except for the old girlfriend--bad move, Amber. Bad move). Matt is drawn to charm and sweet. Not always smart, but sweet. Tracy is really good about picking strong-willed women and then pretending she's flabbergasted when her women get sent home. Okay, back to the reaping.

One of Tracy's women strips off her dress to reveal the tiniest little black dress I've ever seen in my life. Because she's there so he can get to know her innermost soul. Or thighs. Tonight the reaping isn't as exciting as last week due to condensed time. The editing is awful.

I'm going to pause here to address that each of these women reinforces the myth sold to us from the time of Shakespeare and Austen, which is this: "I know he's the one!" They say it. Over and over. It could be this show's drinking game--take a shot every time one of the women says "I just know he's the one" or some iteration of it, and you'd be three sheets to the wind by 8:20.

Ben makes the equally dangerous assumption that "one of these girls could be my wife!"


I'm going to pause here to rant about Tracy. One of her women is a virgin. And she assumes--condescendingly so--that said woman is a virgin because she is afraid of getting hurt. Right, Tracy, because there isn't a religion in this country that preaches abstinence before marriage and fidelity after. Not a single one. I'm also insulted when Tracy equates sex with love, suggesting that said woman needs to open up "Not 'down here,' but 'up here,'" as she touches her heart. Gag.

Ben's date is making the girls run a Warrior Dash-type race. So they get all sweaty and dirty before he takes them to the middle of nowhere to "get to know them better."

Ben asks the best question ever of one of the women: "So why are you still single?"

"I don't know Ben, because I grew up in a time before TV-mediated relationships were so vogue? Why are YOU still single?"

Ben asks the same question of another woman later that night. And rather than put him in his place, this woman gets some action. Woot woot! Don't forget ladies, next time a man asks you an insulting question, bat yer eyelashes, give him an "aw shucks" pouty look, and turn that pout into a grand make out session. At least you got kissed.

Oh, P.S. Ben appears to be a little bit loose with the lips. Playas represent!

I'm going to pause here to say that for the most part, I like the advice the matchmakers give the women, post-date. It's not all that bad. 

Finally, we get to the point where Ben has to send two girls home. Option 1: the old girlfriend. Option 2: started crying as soon as she was placed in the bottom 3. (Sweet Bill Rancic gives the cry-er an honest-to-goodness cloth hanky.) Option 3: The virgin. Go figure.

Ben saves the virgin right away. It takes him a little longer to dispose of the cry-er, which screams to me that he and the old girlfriend are nearly co-dependent. So having her around should make for some gooooood television.

'Til next week...

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