dear chick-fil-a

Dear Chick-fil-A,

I noticed that you seem to be under heavy fire and criticism on the internet and I wanted to extend my deepest sympathies to you. It would seem that you have been labeled a "bigot" because of "documented support of anti-gay groups". As a result, you have lost the friendship of the Jim Henson Company and no doubt much business from the "more open minded" that will no longer patronize such a closed-minded business.

I thought you might like to know that there are some people on your side, and I thought maybe someone out there might like to know why I'm on your side. I feel I have good reasons, neither of which is that I am opposed to gay marriage. (I am against gay marriage, that just doesn't factor into my arguments).

1. The Jim Henson Company will no longer allow you to include Muppet toys in your kid's meals because you are a "bigot". A bigot is "a person who is utterly intolerant of any differeing creed belief, or opinion", according to dictionary.com. So, as far as I can tell, The Jim Henson Company is the one acting like a bigot. If you had refused to sell their toys because they are pro-gay marriage, then you 'd have been a bigot. But, seeing as how you accepted the fact that not everyone sees the world the way you do and still got along with them just fine shows that you are the bigger person (or in this case, corporation). Obviously, I disagree with the Jim Henson Company's views. But I'm not going to run out and burn my Muppets from Space DVD. I love that movie!

2. One of the most nonsensical criticisms I have found against you is the following image.

Obviously the creator intended to show how ridiculous you are for having a different opinion from all the other restaurant owners. I have two objections. Firstly, what in the world does your political stance on gay marriage have to do with fried chicken? It's not like every Chick-fil-A meal comes with anti-gay marriage propaganda, and I'm quite sure your restaurant doesn't ask you about your opinion before serving you food. Secondly, who bothers to dig up a restaurant owners opinions about stuff before consenting to eat there? I surely don't. And even for those who do, if you refuse to do business with anyone who doesn't agree with everything you think or believe, that makes YOU the bigot.

And so Chick-fil-A, I wish you the best. I pray there are enough open minded people out there to believe that a difference of opinion or belief doesn't mean we have to cut all ties or go on the offensive.

Love, Ashlee

one nation under God

This has been on my mind for while, ever since my brother and I had a conversation about atheists trying to ban or remove crosses from military sites or other sites of sacrifice or loss. The whole concept confuses me. If I came to your house after a loved one died and tried to erect a cross in your front yard, then your protest would be understandable. I fully support your right to not believe in God, and you shouldn't have to act like you do. But the other side of that coin is that you can't run around yelling at other people who do believe in God and act accordingly that they are cramping your style.

But there is a bigger picture here that I don't expect any atheist understand or agree with, but I think it implies a great responsibility for the rest of us.

America is Christian. There, I said it. And I don't mean as a sum of its parts, that the majority of citizens are Christian. I mean America is Christian, just like the Bible is.

We recently celebrated the 4th of July, the "birthday of America", our independence day. We celebrate on this day because it was the day that our founding father's signed the Declaration of Independence, even though our fight for independence hadn't even begun.

This is the first paragraph of that first, American document.

When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

See? Nature's God? It was an appeal to our God-given rights that created our great nation in the first place. And it is to that God that we owe thanks that our great nation survived the War of Independence. Consider the last verse of our National Anthem, that struck me as we sang it on Sunday.

Oh! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved home and the war's desolation!
Blest with victory and peace, may the heav'n rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: "In God is our trust."
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

I'm sure I don't need to enumerate other evidences such as the pledge of allegiance as referenced by my post title or the reminder on our money "In God we Trust". But I will quote a verse from the Book of Mormon that underlines my point. Ether 3:2 says,

"And he had sworn in his wrath unto the brother of Jared, that whoso should possess this land of promise, from that time henceforth and forever, should serve him, the true and only God, or they should be swept off when the fullness of his wrath should come upon them."

I guess what I'm saying is that if atheists succeed in robbing us of one of the most important aspects of our nation, or if we casually forget what America is, what makes it great, we are in for big trouble. Again, I'm not trying to force Christianity on anyone, but if you don't like the fact that America is Christian and are hell-bent on changing that, maybe you should consider Europe. It's nice there.

havasupai

I'd been looking forward to this vacation for years, ever since my sister Cassity went in 2008 and raved about it. It seemed right up my alley-hiking, camping, stunning waterfalls-what's not to love? So when Christian couldn't get enough work off to accompany me I was sad, but decided to go anyway.

My older Ryan said he'd pick me up at 4 am, but as is all too typical with my family, he didn't show until 4:45. So I jumped into his "monstrosity of a vehicle" and we began the 9 hour drive.

On my way into a McDonald's in Vegas to relieve myself, a wrinkly, gangly black man was sitting by the entrance and I braced myself for when he would surely ask me for money. Instead, he asked me, "D'you buy that van that way?" "No," I replied, "my brother made it that way. He's crazy." He laughed.

Around 3 in the afternoon we finally reached the trailhead. While Ryan finished packing things that were strewn about his van, I walked to the office to see if I could get anymore information (we couldn't see where the trail started from our parking spot). The office was padlocked and vacant, but I did find these unhelpful and downright confusing signs.

So we were forbidden to hike at night and there was no day hiking. Hmmm. Well, we'd driven 9 hours and weren't about to head back, so a nice couple in the parking lot pointed us to the trailhead and we began our descent into the Grand Canyon.

At first it looked really cool, hiking down in like that. I'd never seen the Grand Canyon before, and now I was really experiencing it. Unfortunately, after only a mile or two of the total eight for us to hike that day, the heat exhaustion set in. I had a headache, I was sweating faster than I could drink, and I felt like throwing up. Ryan took good care of me, making me rest in the shade and sharing his water that was colder than mine, but it put a serious damper on how excited I was to continue. The trail seemed to stretch on forever, with no sign of hope or life or water-nothing but dry and deadly desert.

Eventually we made it to the villiage and started seeing signs "Campground -->" We followed sign after sign and found no campground and it began to seem like some sort of cruel joke. When we finally arrived at the fabled campground it was dark and it took us a while to find our friends and family waiting for us. It was only eight miles (much shorter than my beloved Timp hike) and it was all downhill, but I was exhausted and my calves HURT. And I'll admit it, we were grumpy.

The next day my calves were like bricks, but I told them I was the boss, and I told them to walk. We visited a few different waterfalls that day that were pretty neat, and I'd say the falls match any of the marvelous ones I saw in Croatia.

The water was deliciously cold, a fact that was enhanced by how dang hot it was. It seemed you stepped out of the water for a moment and you were dry, another moment and you were soaked again- this time in sweat.

That night I was rudely awoken by a cockroach crawling on my face and should have known then that nothing good could come of a day that started off that way. We set off for Cassity's favorite falls, and I'll admit the first part of the hike was nifty. Not long after leaving the campground we came to the top of the biggest waterfall of all, and had to climb in and out of the rock walls, clinging for dear life to the chains along the way, on the near vertical descent to the bottom of the falls.

For someone who is afraid of heights, it was a little nerve racking, but fun all the same. If only we had stopped there.

The trail from then to Cassity's favorite falls was in and out of the water, and even though I'd taped my emerging blisters, it didn't take long for my wet Chaco's to start to be a nuisance. Plus, my infamously bad knees were fed up with what I had been putting them through, and they would not be ignored any longer. After many ups and downs and false turns, I was very much ready to be done and swim and then head home. Still, it was intriguing in a way to hike through the random jungle there in the middle of the desert; it was eerie and out of place.

After a small eternity- or at least that's how it seemed to my knees and everything below- we reached Beaver Falls, but the trail that Cassity remembered had been wiped out by a flood, and we couldn't figure out a way down to the swimming hole. Ryan was eager to swim and opted for climbing down the cliff face, an option way to dangerous and scary for me. The others opted for a different, more accessible swimming spot, but I didn't feel good about leaving Ryan alone, so I followed the directions of some others already swimming on an easier way to get in. After a while it became clear that I was searching in vain, there was no easy way down. I was lost, frightened, in pain, frustrated and alone. When I finally found the spot where Ryan had climbed down, it was still too scary and I sat down and sobbed. Loud enough for the swimmers to hear me over the waterfall. They climbed up and helped me down the cliff as I sobbed in terror; I knew I would fall and die right there. We swam for a while in the mediocre swimming pool, but it just wasn't that great. We wasted time looking for an easier escape route, but eventually had to leave the way we came, with people dragging me along through tears of terror.

After the fact, Ryan admitted that it was foolish to attempt such a climb without safety gear. Needless to say that I was not exactly in the mood for the hike back to camp.

Ryan and I were still super achy from the hike in, and he needed to get back to work as soon as possible, so we decided to take the helicopter out instead of hike. I was pleased that my knees and blisters would be spared any more strain, and that heat exhaustion wouldn't be an issue again, but mostly I was excited about how much that would expedite my return to my husband.

Tuesday morning, my legs below the knees were swollen and I hobbled along like a granny. The hike from the campground to the village was probably only about a mile, but the whole time I just kept telling myself it was only a mile, and then a helicopter ride. I could do that. Very few times in my life have been as painfully disappointing as when we learned that the helicopter wouldn't fly again for two days; we would have to hike out after all.

We waited for some cloud cover and headed out. I clenched my teeth and hobbled along out of pure necessity, not knowing how I was going to manage this. Eventually it started to rain, and as the first sign at the office said, it was monsoon season and there was a danger of a flash flood. We found high ground and nervously waited it out. then the sun came out and it made progressing on our hike a foolish endeavor, so we waited it out in the shade. I didn't like stopping because it was hard to get my legs going again, but we had no choice. The last mile was the hardest- the steepest parts and the seemingly endless switchbacks as you exit the canyon. I only made it of pure necessity, of a desire to leave that horrible deathtrap and to see Christian as soon as possible. So make it I did, but just barely.

Ryan drove pretty much all through the night, so I got home early on the 4th, and was able to spend the whole day eating, watching Deep Space Nine, and resting my still swollen legs. They are mostly all better now, but I probably won't be returning to Havasupai- in fact I scoffed at the friendly sign on the way out inviting me to "Come again!".

dear world (but mostly women),

I have a few things that I need to tell you, because they have been weighing on my mind a lot of late. I know I've said it before, but I don't feel like I'm getting through to you. 


The things that you care about make me so sad. Standing in line in the grocery store, all the magazines are about the same things. Lose ten pounds, bikini body by June, miracle diet discovery, latest fashion trends, summer's hottest hairstyles, and 99 sex moves to wow him. Always the same. Do you realize how vain you have become? I'm OK with keeping the magazines with tasty recipes, but why can't there be more magazines about how to strengthen your marriage, 10 secrets to being cheerful, most needed volunteers this season, fiscal responsibility and budget planning, and more magazines about heallth (which is not synonymous with weight loss)?

But it's not just the magazines, it's TV, the internet, the radio, all more of the same. All day, everyday, everywhere. It makes me sad. It makes me sad to see so many of you, especially women, focusing your energies on things that, not only don't really matter, but also are generally unattainable. It can only lead to a life lacking in fulfillment at best, and self loathing at worst. 


At least Tina Fey knows what I'm talking about. 


Now every girl is expected to have Caucasian blue eyes, full Spanish lips, a classic button nose, hairless Asian skin with a California tan, a Jamaican dance hall ass, long Swedish legs, small Japanese feet, the abs of a lesbian gym owner, the hips of a nine-year-old boy, the arms of Michelle Obama, and doll tits. The person closest to actually achieving this look is Kim Kardashian, who, as we know, was made by Russian scientists to sabotage our athletes.”

I wish girls everywhere could see what Tina Fey and I see. It's ridiculous. It's silly. And, if it weren't so terribly heart wrenching and depressing, it would be comical.

So put down your copy of Vanity Fair and stop comparing yourself to airbrushed and anorexic women. Close Polyvore and stop fantasizing about keeping up with every fashion trend that you can't afford. Go eat a cheeseburger (once in a while) and stop hating yourself for not eating kale and protein shakes all the time. Go work out for how it makes you feel instead of how it might help you look more like Kim Kardashian. And then.....get over yourself and go live life!

the big day

I'd been practicing for months. Coaxing my hair into any sort of curl was a painstaking and physically and emotionally draining process, but my fancy dress demanded to be topped by fancy hair, so I did my best. And when the big day arrived, I was confident in my ability to achieve a certain level of success. I just had to wake up at 4:30 to do so. So I set my alarm and went to bed, only to awaken every couple of hours. I kept trying to tell my body to take advantage of what little sleep time it had, since the following day would be demanding, but to no avail. Until suddenly it was 7:00 and my mom was knocking on my hotel room door. And I was still in bed. Whoops. I can't really explain how it happened. Maybe it was the sleeping pill finally kicking in. Maybe it was the white noise of that blasted heater. All I knew was that I now had only 20 minutes to get ready. On my wedding day. So I did. For the most part, I was a pretty good sport about it, and I was on time to the temple at 7:30.

The session and the sealing were both beautiful and wonderful experiences. Pictures went well, with only a few, minor hiccups. The luncheon was fun and tasty, and I was so grateful for everyone who came all the way to Manti to be with us on our special day. But then the madness set in.

We were a little late getting back from Manti, but I wasn't too worried, since my woefully straight hair would require very little touch up before the reception. But first Christian and I had to pick up the flowers to decorate the reception hall. Seven dozen vendela roses that I carefully coordinated and that I was really excited about-Gone. Just gone. The Flower Patch said that someone had already picked them up, which was crazy talk, no one had. I tried to keep it together and remind myself that it wasn't directly the fault of the girl trying to help me, but I was upset, and I think justifiably so. She took me back to their fridge and let me have my choice of their pitifully small selection. Crestfallen, I settled for some red roses that would not match my wedding colors, but at least they wouldn't clash too much.

So Christian and I were late to our own reception. There were already guests there when we arrived, still in our luncheon clothes, with the chair covers and sashes and the red roses in tow. Wonderfully nice people put the covers on and put the roses in vases on the tables for me while I got into my dress. I thought for sure that things would go smoothly now. Not so.

The shoes that I was supposed to wear with my wedding dress were no where to be found, and Christian's tux was locked in a car to which we could not find the keys. So I spent most of the reception barefoot, and Christian spent the first twenty minutes in a white dress shirt with no tie. We were so occupied with these things that we forgot to give my side of the family the matching ties that Christian's mom so graciously bought for everyone, and we forgot to put out the sign in book that Christian had spent a lot of time and money on making himself. The caterer was understaffed and other people had to pitch in. When the time came to clean up, some of the people in charge were MIA. But I was done. Christian and I were off to Park City, deciding that they could burn down the reception hall for all we cared.

And at the end of the day, everything was great. I was married to my love. I was part of an eternal family. I had gained so many family members that I loved. I was blessed with friends to pitch in and fill in the gaps left by...less reliable people. It was one crazy roller coaster getting there, and my reception might not have been exactly what I had hoped, but the end result was the same, and that's all that really matters.

why I don't believe in anger

When you read the title of this post, you probably interpreted the word 'believe' in the sense that "I don't believe in anger the same way I don't believe in premarital sex," meaning that I am opposed to it, that I avoid it. But what I really meant was something more like, "I don't believe in anger the same way I don't believe in fairies," meaning I think it is a myth, something imaginary. So yes, when you say you are angry, I believe you are making it up. Now that all of you are "angry" with me for questioning your emotions, let me explain.

Out of all the things they tried to teach me in elementary school, most have gone to my subconscious, a vast pile of things I know but don't remember learning. A few lessons stand out, though, and one of them is that anger doesn't exist. Perhaps I remember it so well because it was an object lesson, or perhaps because over the course of my life, I have repeatedly noticed evidence to back it up. The object was a Hershey's kiss. The premise was that the thin, shiny wrapper was the anger that only served to mask another emotion. The underlying emotion, represented by the chocolate, was the bulk of the real problem. One could not properly deal with the issue (chocolate) without removing the anger (the wrapper) and seeing the problem for what it really was.

Anger can be a mask for a multitude of unpleasant emotions. Frustration (disappointed expectations), hurt feelings, sadness. In my personal case, anger is often (OK, almost always) a mask for hunger. But then I think to myself, "I'm not really angry with this person. I'm just hungry." This allows me to not be angry. Do I always succeed at being pleasant to be around when I'm hungry? No. But sometimes I do. It's possible, because I recognize the real problem. Imagine, however, that I didn't know, that I went around being angry and not realizing how hungry I was. I would be a very unpleasant person, upset about various real or perceived offenses that really didn't matter. I would endeavor to force my bad mood on those around me and damage the relationship I had with those people. And I would not be fixing anything, because I'm not dealing with the real issue.

It sounds silly with hunger, but imagine someone I loved hurt my feelings. I feel negative emotions because I love that person and desire their good opinion, I desire a good, strong, loving relationship with them. But admitting this is hard. Being vulnerable is hard. And dealing with those kind of hurt feelings can be hard. The easy way is to throw on the shiny wrapper of self-righteous anger. It gives us a false sense of superiority and of control, so in a way it makes us feel better. But what does anger do? It belittles the other person in order to feed the false superiority, it builds walls between the two people in self-defense. In effect, it worsens the very problem that it is masking. You cared enough about the relationship to feel hurt in the first place, and to "fix" the problem, you are damaging it even more.

I believe this is why the JST removes the "without cause" from Matthew 5:22 "whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause is in danger of the judgement" I believe this scripture constitutes a commandment to deal with real emotions and real issues instead of choosing anger. I believe that we are not given commandments over which we have no agency, and as such, I believe that we can choose which emotions to allow and which to cast out. I believe we choose how to deal with those emotions, and that anger is an ineffective and destructive way of doing that. And that's why I don't believe in anger.

why I don't vote

My sister will be turning 18 soon (yikes!) and received a letter from an elected official trying to solidify her vote. It prompted her to ask who I was going to vote for in the upcoming elections. She didn't understand why I wasn't going to vote, and I struggled to explain how I feel about it. But then I found an example that I'd like to share with you.

I consider myself to be a peacemaker. Not because I'm a saint, just because conflict makes me uncomfortable, and I'd rather we all just be friends. As such, I am rather adept at seeing both sides of any given argument; even when an issue seems to be completely black and white, I can sometimes just sense that there's another side, I just haven't found it yet.

For example, Kony 2012. Surely there could only be one stance on this one, right? What sane person could argue against bringing such a deplorable human being to justice? However, you'll notice that I did not repost any emotional videos rallying support for that cause. I just felt like...something was off. Maybe I just didn't think that posting that video would change anything. Maybe I prefer to be blissfully ignorant of vast miseries that I cannot cure. Or maybe I just have a sixth sense for different but valid points of view. Anyway, yesterday Christian showed me this, which states rather convincingly the other side of the argument. I thought it was interesting and informative. http://thedailywh.at/2012/03/07/on-kony-2012-2/

And it seemed like such a great cause, a no-brainer! If such a worthy cause could have definite cons, what of a politician? I can form opinions on actions but I have trouble forming opinions on people. Any president we have is going to do things that I disagree with and other things that I support. In regards to most of the issues, I don't consider myself well-enough educated on the issues to for my opinion to really matter, and if I were well-enough informed, I would see the good in both candidates. Sure, I'd like to vote for the candidate who promises to lower gas prices, but for now I will leave the voting to those more qualified and who have a better understanding of the big picture.