Simply and Satirically Me

I watched A New Hope last night, mostly because I wanted to remember what it was that made me fall in love with the Star Wars Universe. I wanted to know if I was crazy for feeling like The Last Jedi just really didn’t belong. The original film starts out pretty slow, but it takes nothing for granted. The story is well-structured and detail-oriented, even if the acting is (as usual) sub-par. But you don’t fall for the main trio because of their acting, you fall for them because they are likable, relatable, and quirky. Luke, Han, and Leia are the center around which the rest of the universe revolves.  In some ways, that’s how I almost felt about Rey and Finn in The Force Awakens. Story aside, they were likable to watch. In short, it’s a ragtag team with different goals and backgrounds forced to work together to save themselves and, in the end, the universe. That’s what makes Han’s just-in-time return at the end of A New Hope so inspiring. Because you knew (hoped!) he had it in

U.S. Code: Title 36, Subtitle 1, Part A (a) Designation.— The composition consisting of the words and music known as the Star-Spangled Banner is the national anthem. (b) Conduct During Playing.— During a rendition of the national anthem— (1) when the flag is displayed— (A) individuals in uniform should give the military salute at the first note of the anthem and maintain that position until the last note; (B ) members of the Armed Forces and veterans who are present but not in uniform may render the military salute in the manner provided for individuals in uniform; and (C) all other persons present should face the flag and stand at attention with their right hand over the heart, and men not in uniform, if applicable, should remove their headdress with their right hand and hold it at the left shoulder, the hand being over the heart …. ( Pub. L. 105–225 , Aug. 12, 1998,  112 Stat. 1263 ;  Pub. L. 110–417 , [div. A], title V, § 595, Oct. 14, 2008,  122 Stat. 4475 .)

“It’s an everlasting fruitcake, just as soon as it’s gone, it will reappear. Though we’ve done our best to be rid of it, it shows up at our house each year.” I don’t remember what year in school they made me learn this pretty ridiculous song, but I’ve never been able to get the imagery of it out of my head. It’s a holiday song about a family who can’t quite seem to get rid of a fruitcake they were gifted. They try numerous ways to pawn off the dreaded, stale, and heavy fruitcake – once even trying to send it to Norway – but somehow, it always finds its way back to them as a gift from someone else again. What a pointless, unrelatable, silly story. Yes? Maybe not. There’s a part in one of my favorite tv shows where a character is told by a fortune-teller (who he adamantly opposes) that his future would be “full of struggle and anguish, most of it self-inflicted.” Annoyed with the prophesy, the character angrily protests, only to end up kicking a small stone off the ground

"'My gift is obedience. Ella will always be obedient. Now stop crying, child.' I stopped." I have mentioned in my blog before how much I love the book Ella Enchanted. I don't care if it is fourth-grade reading level. Ella's battle with breaking the curse of obedience has long become a sort of allegory for my own frustration with OCD. The victorious feeling of winning that battle is something I glimpse and resonate with at the end of the book. "Decisions were a delight after the curse. I loved having the power to say yes or no, and refusing anything was a special pleasure." Oh, the sense of freedom that brings. And in its own, strange way - it's relatable. I read an article today about a woman who had such a strong, compulsive anxiety about driving, that she ended up not getting in her car for an entire year. it took professional diagnosis and treatment for her to begin overcoming that impulse. When asked something about why it took her so

The fascinating thing was that I actually felt like I didn’t fit in. Mormon-born and raised. BYU Graduate. Serving a full-time mission for the Church in Brazil. It’s not hard to find someone with the same resume in LDS circles. But there I was sitting on the bus far away in a foreign country and confessing to my companion just why I felt so worthless on the mission.    “This just isn’t me,” I said at one point. Because the truth was, I wasn’t a quiet, dignified, naturally sensitive individual. I wasn’t bubbly or particularly friendly either. I didn’t like rules and I struggled with the chain of hierarchy that held me accountable to eighteen-year-old boys who hadn’t seen a day of college and had never left home until the mission. I was independent, sometimes demanding and blunt, terrible at small talk, and felt more likely to lead an army of revolutionaries than calmly and quietly lead an investigator to the Gospel. I believed in missionary work, and I trusted the Gospel was of Go

“Sandra, do you want me to read it to you?” “No, Dad. If I don’t do it myself, I’m not sure I’ll ever beat this.” I’m not sure how long we would sit together each time I wanted to read my scriptures. But slowly, carefully, with my Dad sitting beside me, I forced each word from my mouth until I had finished each verse. I was in eighth grade. What was so challenging? I didn’t fully understand it at the time, but I later heard it was Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I don’t prefer using the label as much as briefly describing what it actually feels like. An overwhelmingly powerful sensation that a certain action will destroy me. It is as much physical as mental. Of course Satan would choose scriptures and prayer as the initial targets for these attacks. Reading the scriptures became a painful process. The feeling that I was fighting against an overwhelming current of opposition threatening to drown me. I’ve always liked reading the book Ella Enchanted (you’ll understand