Settling In Gently

Isn't it amazing? We have all of human knowledge, history, art, and music in our pockets. Open source courses and libraries and archives-- the internet is an astonishing artifact-- a weightless Alexandrian library. Sometimes I even remember that fact, and poke at my Kindle reading list, and then go back to scrolling through "Garden Design" and "Celtic Tattoo" tags on Instagram, or *LOL* or *ANGRY REACT* to memes on Facebook. Not doggin' on Instagram or facebook, I love it and I love all your kids' shining prom faces and your beautiful crème brulee and your pouty selfies and your yoga-in-the-surf shots. But I'm been thinking about something--about the value of being exposed to things you don't seek out-- allowing yourself to have curated experiences from some other brain that shock, shake and stretch you. I love driving with my podcast library, and all my favorite tunes and playlists bluetoothed onto my car speakers. It's a relief, in

Being a Mormon Missionarionette, Marriage, and My Imaginary Boyfriend April 22, 2019 I don't know why, but I'm thinking about my mission, and about marriage, and relationships, and God, and it's like a nosebleed-- unstoppable until sufficiently reclotted in my brain, so I am going to dribble bloodily all over my blog until I figure out what I'm thinking, and my thoughts reclot themselves. When I was 21, I was a Mormon Sister missionary in Japan-- a Shimai Senkyoushi in the Tokyo North LDS Mission to be very exact about it. I was young and strong and beautiful, although I had no idea at the time-- looking back at pictures I am astonished I was every so clear of eye and bright of brow. I was as lovely and celibate as a Laurel, entombing myself in lovely twisting wood to preserve my virtue. Maybe that's too pretty of a way to put it. I was young and serious and chaste, mortified to be of flesh and up to my split ends in a project to mortify the flesh, one day of