Manners for Mormons...

...or, "How to Attend a Party Without Making the Hostess Want to Kick You"

Mormons have a ton of great qualities, but after socializing with them almost exclusively for the past eight or so years, I've come to realize that a lot of LDS people seem to have never learned a lot of basic principles of etiquette.  Maybe I notice this because it's part of a culture that I've never been fully immersed in as the child of parents who didn't join the Church until I was five, or maybe there are just a select few of us who somehow learned how to behave properly in social settings "of the world."  

So to all of the Mormons who read this blog, here are some basic helpful hints as to how to attend a (dinner) party:

1. Show up on freaking time.  For dinner parties, this means show up early.  If you're invited to a dinner party and the host(ess) tells you "dinner is served at six," that means that the plan is to sit down at the table at six o'clock, bless the food, and start eating.  Six o'clock is not the time to call and ask where you should park, or (heaven forbid) leave your house. If dinner is served at six, it's perfectly acceptable to show up at 5:45 to mingle, or help out in the kitchen should you be needed.  I've hosted many dinner parties, and it's extremely frustrating to have food ready at a certain time but be forced to serve it cold twenty minutes later.
2. On bringing food:  If you're contributing an important part of the meal, see point #1.  If you're bringing food to a dinner* party, check with the host(ess) to see if what you're bringing is acceptable, or if it's necessary for you to bring anything at all.  I don't care if you make the world's best brownies; if the hostess already has dessert covered, don't bring them.  Also, make sure what you're bringing goes with the theme of the meal.  For instance, if the bill of fare is filet mignon and creme brulée, bringing a bag of Double-Stuffed Oreo Cookies is just going to make you look like an idiot.  Call ahead.  Say, "can I bring anything? and if so, what?"  Also, if you're bringing something, bring everything required for the serving of that something (serving spoons, etc.).  
3. On bringing people:  Don't.  Well, maybe that's a little hasty, but this is one of the biggest sources of social faux pas in Mormon (dinner) parties, and I have so many stories about this one that I'm not going to share here.  Sure, we're supposed to be all friendly and open and welcoming, but we only have so many plates and chairs.  So unless the invitation explicitly says, "please feel free to invite friends/roommates/etc..." do not invite other people without checking with the host(ess) first!**  Nothing is more terrifying to a host(ess) than the thought of "we don't have a chair/plate/Cornish game hen for you" when opening door to an uninvited dinner guest.  On a related note, if you unfortunately catch wind of a party happening to which you haven't been invited, don't invite yourself.  Please.  Have some sense of shame.  Even if you think it was an oversight and everyone would be happy to have you.  Refer to the following pie chart:

"Actual Reasons" include the following:
a.  There are too many people already and we had to make cuts.  Sorry, but it happens.
b.  The host (or someone that the host likes better than you) doesn't want you there.
c.  You're a victim of the "net."  If you were invited, the host would feel obligated to invite someone connected to you in some way, like your roommate with personal boundary issues or your snobby significant other.  Again, sorry, but it happens.

So here's the take home message:  (dinner) party hosts are doing you a great service.  Out of the goodness of their hearts, they're opening their homes and going to a great deal of trouble to feed and entertain you.  The least you could do is make their job--no, wait, not "job," as this implies that it's an obligation--make what they're doing because they like you a little easier and less stressful.

Thank you.***

*If it's just a regular, non-dinner party, the rules are a little bit looser, so yeah, bring your chips and salsa and brownies to that.

**But this is also really tricky (i.e. frowned-upon).  Asking to invite someone more often than not puts the host(ess) in an extremely uncomfortable position, the position of "I don't want this person at my party but everyone will think I'm a horrible person if I say they can't come."  If it's a dinner party, best not to invite anyone.  If it's a regular party, check to see if it's okay.  It's more of a courtesy than an actual asking of permission, because really, the host(ess) won't say no in most cases unless [far too many specific stories here].

***Is what you should be saying to them, you ungrateful little weasels ;)

The Greatest Love Story Ever Told

Edward and Bella, Jack and Rose, Buffy and Angel*, Jim and Pam... all of these couples have got nothing on Betsy and Joe.  My dear friend Laura recently introduced me to the Betsy-Tacy books, written by Maud Hart Lovelace.  These stories are based on Lovelace's life and friends and take place in the early 1900's and continue until the First World War.  Betsy and Joe meet in high school, and we watch them go from high-school-rivals, to friends, to "boyfriend-girlfriend," to estranged lovers, and finally to newlyweds!  

I just finished reading Betsy's Wedding, and here are some of my favorite "Aw..." moments:

After a quarrel, Betsy and Joe are estranged for a few years while she tours Europe (aka "The Great World").  She gets this telegram from Joe:

"BETSY.  THE GREAT WAR IS ON BUT I HOPE OURS IS OVER.  PLEASE COME HOME.  JOE." (1)

Right? Right?

Part's of Joe's marriage proposal:

"I love you.  I love you from that cloudy dark hair down to your slender feet.  I love your eyes, and your soft hands, and your sweet voice, and the way your laugh chimes out.  Everything about you is enchanting to me.  But Betsy, it's lots more than that... I can always talk to you... I can make plans, or puzzle out ideas, or build castles in the air.  I don't need to think what I'm saying or guard my words.  You understand my high moods and my low ones.  You understand me, I guess.... Betsy, you fit into my life as perfectly as a rose fits its stem.  You and I match like the pieces of a broken coin.... Love me always, Betsy!  I have given my whole heart to you." (2)

When Joe gets called off to war:

"Listen, Betsy!  Listen hard!  I'm coming back.  Do you hear?  I'm coming back.  And I'll love you even more than I do now, if that could possibly be.  I'll miss you so.... Nothing in the whole world could come between you and me, Betsy.  We're...woven together.  You know that.... I know, I feel it in my bones." (3)

I didn't want to put long excerpts--just quotes--but their love story is just so magical and romantic, but also real (because it's based on a real story, I guess).  They have struggles and hardships and trials and disagreements, but they have each other.

Look at me getting all sappy about a children's book.

 

*or Spike, if you prefer
1.  Lovelace, Maud Hart.  Betsy and the Great World.  p. 352
2.  Lovelace, Maud Hart.  Betsy's Wedding.  pp. 387-8
3.  Betsy's Wedding.  pp. 631-2

Another Post About Dating...

...because I'm pandering in order to boost my readership.

This is the only picture that I could think of for a post about LDS Singles.

I love my singles' ward* in Boston.  It's probably the best ward I've ever been in.  However, if there was one thing I could change about my ward, it would be the ward Facebook page.  I don't know who is in charge of the Facebook page, and kudos to whomever that is for magnifying their calling and whatnot, but as far as I can tell, all the ward Facebook page does is (in addition to always announcing the wrong time for Ward Temple Night) post articles like the following:

"5 Signs He's Not Serious About You"

"The Slow Cooker Breakup Method"

"Dating Mistakes Women Make"

There's a new one of these "Single Saints" articles pretty much every day.  Sometimes more often than that.  I realize that being obsessed with dating and marriage is a HUGE part of young LDS culture, but seriously?  This is overkill.  In jest, I posted a Facebook status saying, "Maybe the reason that there are so many unmarried Mormons in Boston is that we're too busy reading all of the 'Single Saints' posts on the LP2 page to actually go on dates." 

As much as it may have seemed to start out this way, the purpose of this post is not to criticize whomever is in charge of the ward Facebook page (so don't get all offended and go crying to the bishop about it, because frankly, you're doing a good job.  I probably would never put anything on the page were I in charge).  This post is about a broader thing.

Here's the thing:  I'm a firm believer that reading a bunch of articles about something isn't going to make you better at that thing.  I've never collected any data on this, but I have a strong inkling that the people who read all of these articles as scripture don't have as much dating success as the people who just say, "screw it, I'm going to go on a date."  

So don't worry if some website says that you're dating incorrectly, and don't rely on some website to tell you whether or not you're doing things correctly.  Worried that you're not?  That's what communication is for!  I'm not saying you should end every date by asking your date if they'd like to take a brief survey in order to improve your performance, but talk!

I could probably go on and make up more things that I would call advice, but then this would turn into one of those very same "how to date if you're a Mormon" articles, and we're not okay with that.

*"Singles' Ward" = Congregation of unmarried Mormons of a certain age bound to a certain geographic location.  Also, I never know where the apostrophe is supposed to go in "singles".  It's like Master's Degree.

Anatomy of a Crazy Week

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

• 4:15 PM EDT:  I received an email from the graduate director from the BU Anatomy and Neurobiology PhD program informing me that they were unable to accept me as a student due to lack of funding.
• ~5:30 PM EDT:  I tried really hard to not be the girl who bursts into tears on the #57 bus.
• ~7:15 PM EDT:  I drowned my sorrows in blue Pine Sol.  And by "my sorrows" I mean the floor (i.e. I mopped.  It was cathartic.).
• ~8:00 PM-?:  I spent several hours wallowing on the couch and emailing every professional person I know trying to figure out what to do with the next year/rest of my life.

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

• 2:54 PM EDT:  I received an email from my old graduate adviser saying that I could always apply for a job in Hawaii.  I decided I'd think about it.

Thursday, April 12, 2012

• 3:05 PM EDT:  I received another email from my old graduate adviser saying that they're hiring some people for the lab in Hawaii, and if I wanted to apply, I needed to do it immediately, like within the next six hours.
• 3:49 PM EDT:  I resigned myself to the fact that I'll have to spend the bulk of the evening in the library because my computer is dead.
• ~7:00-8:30 PM EDT:  My kindhearted beau let me come to his house and use his computer to turn in my application so I didn't have to go all the way home from the BU library at night.

Friday, April 13, 2012

• ~7:00 PM EDT:  Beau and I had dinner with married friends and then watched probably one of the best films ever made.

Saturday, April 14, 2012

• ~12:30 AM EDT:  I got home and checked my email by flashlight (my screen is still dead, mind you) to see an email sent by my adviser at 3:13 PM Hawaii-Aleutian Time saying "listen to your voicemail."  I listen to my voicemail and there's a message from a forensic anthropologist (whom I cited in my thesis) offering me a job at the Joint POW-MIA Accounting Command Central Identification Laboratory (JPAC CIL).
• 1:45 AM EDT:  I phoned my old adviser (thankful for the 6 hour time difference between Boston and Hawaii) basically saying "what's going on? Explain yourself!" and she explained the position:  It's a one-year forensic anthropology fellowship wherein I'll be working on this project.  I don't have to deploy (i.e. no trips to Vietnam/Cambodia/Laos/Jungles full of mutant insects!), and I'll get tons of forensic anthropology case experience.  

May I just interject to say that this is the most quickly anything has ever happened to me.  Ever.  Last year when I took my "gap year" I floundered around for months trying to find a job.  Look at this timeline, people! 

(still) Saturday, April 14, 2012 

• ~2:00 AM EDT:  I couldn't fall asleep.
• 6:55 AM EDT:  I woke up, thinking it's way later than it actually is because I'm not at all tired.
• The rest of the day:  Went to church cleaning (even though I said I wasn't going to, but I was awake so I figured I'd go), bought a new laptop (hooray!), ate some Panda Express in Medford (delicious), sang in the adult session of Stake Conference, watched "Community" and the first part of "30 Rock" before falling asleep (because apparently I was tired after only five hours of sleep and the most taxing past few hours ever).

Sunday, April 15, 2012

• Cleaned the bathroom and the kitchen.
• Went for a walk by the river.
• Went to the general session of Stake Conference

Monday, April 16, 2012

• Afternoon-ish:  Accepted the job at the JPAC-CIL.
• Evening:  Cried about a lot of things.

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

• Went to work.
• Cried about a lot of things (I'm afraid "Crying at work on a Tuesday" might start to be a regular thing with me).
• Went to play dodgeball and let all the rage flow through me.

You might notice that it's been a week since the end of this story.  That's because it's taken me that long to decompress from everything.  Holy crap, I'm moving to Hawaii, you guys.

Musings at the Office: Part Three, or, My Great Paper Clip Adventure

I'm bringing my laptop to work again.  It turns out that the BU IT Help Center had no faith in my Fernando, as he's been doing quite well since the time they told me that my screen was dead and I should just get a new computer.  

This makes me so happy.  It isn't that I haven't enjoyed bringing books to work, but sometimes it gets a little dull reading the same thing for eight hours.  For this reason, I've had to make my own fun.  And thus began the great paper clip adventure.

There are three common paper-clip repositories in my office:  the reception desk, the fax/mail station, and the copy room.  People have their own paper clip cups at their desk as well, but those aren't for public usage, of course.  What usually happens in the office, however, is that a fax will come in, and I'll paper clip the pages together and put the packet in the person's box.  That person will then take the packet, and put that paper clip into their personal paper clip container.  This was working fine until we ran out of common property paper clips.  

Frugal as I am with corporate funds, I wasn't going to go off and purchase more paper clips!  They haven't been thrown away, just redistributed and scattered throughout the office!  I had found my personal mission:  I would reclaim these paper clips and return them to their rightful places, a gathering, if you will.  I would start sneaking around and pilfering paper clips from the desks of people who seemed to have entirely too many for their own good, but then I started searching for them.  I searched behind the copy machines, under the desks, attached to old documents in the scrap paper bin.  I finally felt like I had some great purpose in the office besides answering the phones, making the coffee, and making sure the candy dish was stocked with everyone's favorites. 

Then, a few days ago, as I was trying to figure out where some phone lines led, I hit a gold mine behind an abandoned cubicle.  I can only imagine what happened was that the previous occupant knocked over his or her paper clip cup and they all fell behind the desk, leaving dozens of paper clips amidst a tangled, dusty maze of phone and ethernet cords.  It was among the happiest of moments.

I believe that was the zenith of my obsession, but who knows, maybe I'll turn out like Bert:  

Progress

I have big news, everyone:  I am now officially allowed to learn to drive in Massachusetts!

That's right, after hemming and hawing for months about when I would ever get a driver's license, I finally made my way down to the RMV* and applied for my learner's permit. Thankfully, I passed the written test. I was afraid there for a while that I was going to not pass because half of the questions were about underage drinking, DUI penalties, and junior operator restrictions. Um...sorry I didn't study that part because I'm 26 and don't drink? I scraped my way through, though, missing six of the seven questions I was allowed to miss.

So I'm going to learn to drive. I'm hoping it's not going to be like this:

*A note to Laura:  My RMV experience actually wasn't very terrible. The front desk lady was nice enough, but the guy who was taking all of my paperwork and whatnot basically didn't talk. I was like, "Dude, I don't know what I'm supposed to do here, you're gonna have to ask for stuff eventually."

"Ah, Music. A Magic Beyond All We Do Here!"

(I finished the Harry Potter series, guys! I am now licensed to quote Dumbledore whenever I want!)

Have I told you all that I love music? Of course I have. I sometimes think in a different time, or if I were a different sort of person, I would have tried to pursue a career in music--not necessarily performance or composition, but perhaps media music or film/TV music supervision--to be the person who sets a scene to a song, provides music for the montage and whatnot. I believe that a good piece of music can be the thing that drives emotion into anything--including a person.

For many years, I often felt that I was unable to feel things the way other people did--that I was "past feeling", "dead inside", or otherwise incapable of emotion. Being a member of a church that emphasized the importance of "feeling the Spirit", I sometimes felt isolated from others in the congregation who had spiritual experiences all the time and were able to feel so touched during a prayer, sermon, or scripture.

One year, I was singing with the BYU Concert Choir. We were rehearsing a Christmas piece called "Carol of Joy". I'm not going to play it for you, because it isn't Christmas, but here are some of the lyrics:

Look up, sad hearted, witness God's Love

Join in the Carol swelling above

Oh friendless world, to you is the song

All Heaven's joy to you will belong

I think that this was one of the first times I have ever experienced anything close to what people called "feeling the Spirit". Through this song, and through the power of a hundred voices in vocal harmony and spiritual unison, I was able to sense that God loved me, and that I had a Savior. 

Currently, I serve as the choir director in my church congregation, and when I received this calling, I was instructed to help people who could feel the Spirit more strongly through music than through other means. Being one of those people myself, I really believe that this is a great and worthwhile duty to have in the church (even though I complain about it a lot). 

This wasn't meant to be a Big Mormon Blog Post, really. I have the same feelings about a lot of secular music.  So many emotions and moments in my life (especially recently) have become so attached to songs, and so many songs can evoke emotions that are almost too big to express. I think at some point (not now), I'll post a list of some of these best songs (as a change from my "Top 25" lists) for you all. Until then, keep on singing.