Once Upon a Time...

The Demise of a Fairy Tale

I had never seen such a handsome face in real life. Not only was his face out of a Giorgio Armani ad, but his body was perfect. His muscles rippled under his T-shirts; the light fabric laying softly over his angel wings. One day fate dealt me a lucky hand-we were both in the break room with no one else around.

“Hey, what ethnicity are you?” I asked.

“Mexican,” He responded in a confused tone. “Why?”

“Because you are beautiful! Your dark skin, your complexion, you’re just beautiful,” came my hurried reply. “I mean handsome,” I corrected, worried he may take offense to the feminine term.

“No beautiful works for me,” he grinned.

I had never before in my life talked to a stranger that way. The butterflies, who congregated in my stomach after the interaction, left no room for embarrassment .

It was not long before he asked for my number. I suppose the male ego can’t really resist a girl who gushes over him and tells him how beautiful he is. I had never been so excited for a first date in my life. I spent plenty of time prepping and primping, trying to make sure that my beauty would be equal to his. The date was everything I hoped it would be. He was incredibly handsome and smelled divine. He was cute, despite having spoken English since he was a child he still made mistakes with the language. He was a perfect gentleman, opened every door. He was protective, stepping between me and sketchy looking man on the way inside one of the destinations on the date. He had the whole date planned-a relief when one has become accustomed to men picking her up for dates and asking what she wanted to do. I was intrigued by him right away. He was so very different than me. He had been born in Mexico and moved to the states when he was four. He was an avid soccer player, and from what I could tell (from stalking the videos of him playing on facebook) quite good. He came from a completely different culture and language than me. There were small things that caught my attention. His parents were divorced. He still lived with his mother, and it appeared she depended on him for everything. He was not attending school and had no specific plans for his schooling. However, I brushed these aside.

We met at the end of August. A few weeks later we were going steady and not long after that he told me that he loved me. I was in a whirlwind of adoration for this man and infatuated with being in love for the first time. He cared for me so tenderly and sweetly. When we were together he devoted himself to me and my needs. We would sit and talk for hours, sharing our deepest thoughts. We would laugh and play together. After only a few short months we began to wonder what marriage to each other would be like.

The red flags that had caught my attention on our first date and at the beginning of our courtship were constantly looming over me. Instead of not being serious enough to deserve attention or smoothing themselves out as I had hoped, the problems became exacerbated as our relationship progressed. He struggled between wanting to please me and maintaining his loyalty to his mother. As the only son, he recognized that his mother had come to rely on him too heavily and had cajoled him into filling not only the role of son but that of husband as well. He was tied to her apron strings in an unhealthy way. Having come from a family where neither parent received schooling past high school, his education was of little importance to him. He had a good job which could lead to a career and which left him plenty of time to pursue his passion for soccer. This passion was not one that persuaded him to try to play collegiate or move to professional, but one that did take up plenty of time and money as he played in small clubs around the area.  He also knew that the things I was asking of him, moving out on his own, obtaining an education, deciding his goals with soccer, were good and healthy expectations. He would tell me how these were the things he wanted as well. These words from him were enough to calm my stresses for a little while each time. I constantly tried to convince myself that his words were true, despite the fact that his actions proved otherwise.

“Hey, I am ready for you to pick me up,” I said happily as I admired my newly manicured nails. He had dropped me off and told me he would pick me up when I was finished.

“Hey, actually I am still with my family and it looks like it will be a while. We are about to go and have dinner.”

Crestfallen and confused I said, “Okay, so when will I see you tonight?” It was the night before my birthday and we had planned a dinner date.

“I don’t really know how long this will take so maybe I can just call you later.”

I began my walk home from the nail salon. Once home I waited for the call. It never came. Later that night my phone buzzed. I picked it up to see a text from him. I hadn’t finished reading about how he was still with family and would just see me the following day before I chucked the phone across the room in frustration. It was clear that his loyalty to his family far surpassed any loyalty he had to me. I was never welcome at these activities and as much as it pained me to admit it, I knew that a wedding gown and the exchanging of rings would not change that. Even though I knew that I was second to his mother and his sisters and would probably always be, I naively gave him the benefit of the doubt. How could a man so breathtakingly handsome, so unfailingly chivalrous and who told me he loved me, not keep his word?

When Christmas came we had been dating for four months. We were in innocent and ignorant love. I foolishly saw him as the man I thought I knew he could become. He said the things he knew I wanted to hear in a desperate attempt to keep me by his side, but would do the exact opposite in order to maintain his relationship with is mother and keep her content. I was flying home to California for Christmas. I was disappointed that I would have to fly back to Utah on Christmas day due to work commitments but excited when he assured that he would be at the airport to pick me up. As I boarded the plane, I received a text from him wondering if I could ride the train back and reassuring me that he would be at the train station in Provo to pick me up. Upon my arrival in the hustle of bustle of Salt Lake International Airport I realized that the train was not running due to the national holiday. After further inquiry I discovered that there was no public transportation and that I would have to wait three hours for the next shuttle to depart to Provo.

“Hey, are you back?!” he asked excitedly when he answered the phone.

“The train does not run today because it is Christmas,” I replied.  There was a moment of silence on the other line.

“Oh… Well, can you find another way?” he inquired.

“Not really,” I said in frustration as I explained the predicament and the three hours I would have to wait before any shuttles would be leaving.

“Oh, well, take the shuttle and I will come see you when you get home.”

Hearing my frustration and tears on the other end he began to explain how he was with family and they were all about to go see a movie for which they already had tickets. I barely heard or understood him as I stood in the crowded airport, tears of disappointment running down my face. I hung up the phone, went into a bathroom stall, and sobbed uncontrollably.

The relationship lasted only three more days. I am embarrassed to say that it was not I who broke up with him. It took me a long time to come to the realization that he was not the fairytale I had built up in my mind; love does not conquer all.

The doorbell rings, I open to see the man I am currently dating on the doorstep.  In his hand is a lovely bouquet of flowers, despite the absence of a special occasion. He is tall, built like a bear, and strong. While he doesn’t turn heads or attract second glances the way my last boyfriend did, he is dependable, a friend to everyone he meets and always has people laughing with his quick wit and humor.

“You look absolutely beautiful!” he exclaims.

“Thank you,” I respond bashfully.

As he puts his phone away for the night he says, “Tonight I am with you, and there is no where else I would rather be.”

Reflections on a narrative

It was hard to choose a story to write about for our narrative assignment. In fact, that was the hardest part of the paper. I explored ideas in my head and even met with Sister Steadman to explore ideas further. As I tried to think of learning experiences I had many cross my mind, and finally I chose a rather recent one. When I decided to write about a past relationship I was a bit nervous. Was this really something I wanted to share with others? I felt vulnerable writing this story. However, it ended up being rather therapeutic. When I sat down to write the first draft of the paper I wrote the whole five pages in an hour and a half. It felt good to write and get it all out. As I revised the paper multiple times I continued to learn and grow from the experience. I am glad that I chose to write about this time in my life. I learned more through writing about it and experienced even more closure.

Look Sister Steadman! No hands!: Research Blog

We are writing a research paper in English class. The idea of writing ten pages is daunting in itself, so finding a topic I am interested in has been a journey. We are to write on a family story, does not matter how far back, and make a claim about something in that story. My Mother's parents are both still alive and the only grandparents whom I am close to. I began to try to think of some of their stories about which I could write a research paper. I thought about writing how my grandmother had come back to the church after choosing not to attend for years and the subsequent baptism of my grandfather. I remembered last fall when we celebrated Papa's (my grandfather's) 80th birthday and we sat around hearing stories from his life. I then chose instead to write about my Grandfather's upbringing in Texas. Papa Perry is a little racist in his thoughts and attitudes... and when I say a little, it could be an understatement. I am writing about growing up racist and the influences that cause racist  attitudes in an individual.



"Well,if Papa grew up racist and now at eighty years old he still is racist, can racism ever be eradicated?"
"That is a great question and one that is very intriguing. It is difficult to think that we can ever overcome racism when it is being taught in home."
"So what?"
"It matters because racism is detrimental to our society but many who are racist don't even realize that they are. Especially the older generation. It matters as a study when the question of racism in the United States being eradicated is brought up. It matters because Papa Perry has a pure and loving heart, but has been indoctrinated from birth that black people are less than white people, and others like him are being taught the same thing."

A Manley Daughter

Growing up as the only girl in a family with four brothers is wonderful. I would highly recommend it. I adore my family. I may be biased but I think I have the most wonderful family in the world.
I have two loving parents who's love is unconditional. They support us kids in all that we do and believe in us, often more than we believe in ourselves.
My father is strong and tender. He gives bear hugs, messages my scalp, hold me while I cry, is endlessly patient, is a master smoothie maker, works hard, and is the righteous leader of our home.
My mother has given her entire life to my father, me and my siblings. She is selfless and has sacrificed a great deal in order to always be there for our family. There is no doubt in any of our minds where my mother's priorities lie. She makes funny jokes, sends sweet texts, watches Twilight in the theatre and doesn't laugh (I told her to be serious despite the corniness), has long girl talks and buys me Lucky Charms when I come home. She is my best friend.
My four brothers are the best and mean the world to me. They are strong, funny, intelligent, well versed in politics, athletic, protective and all around studs.
I am so grateful for family. I know that I am very blessed to come from a solid family, especially in a world where the family unit is deteriorating rapidly.
I hope to one day raise my own family. My mother hopes that for each of us kids too as she would love to have grandchildren,  a hope which she does not try to hide. When I am a mother I hope that I can embody many of the attributes that I so admire and love in my own parents.

Science in the City

I enjoy cities because there is so much to do. Salt Lake is no exception to this. The Malls are, of course, some of the highlights, Hogle zoo is entertaining, Jazz games are exciting, and there is the Clark Museum.

If you are looking for a little science in your life, pop in to the museum where you can sit back, and watch a few different films.

I enjoyed watching Exploding Universe. The movie is shown in a dome theatre so it as if the universe is surrounding you. The film goes from through the creation of the universe from the perspective of the big bang theory. It showed how the entire universe came about from small protons. These protons, with neutrons and electrons, eventually formed atoms. The elements which were created eventually formed stars, galaxies, and our earth. The earth then evolved until it became inhabited with life.

The movie was very interesting from a scientific point of view. It showed giant stars detonating to become supernova. It also talked about black holes and illustrated supermassive black holes and the havoc they can reek. The movie depicted super volcanoes and showed how they have helped in transforming the earth into a life bearing planet.  The movie also showed how the earth continuously changed even from the beginning of it’s creation. The meteorite which struck the Yucatan peninsula and caused the extinction of the dinosaurs was portrayed.

The end of the film returned to the small proton that began the universe and is still an elementary particles which continues to have a role in our universe. Exploding Universe suggested and showed how out of devastation comes creation. It seems to be the circle of life as well as the circle of the universe.  

The Race Car of Cats!

My favorite animal is... you guessed it, the Cheetah! They have been since I was a child. I used to write reports and make posters with pictures I cut out of National Geographic about Cheetahs. I did this purely for myself. They were not even for an assignment. Here are some of the things I have learned about these gorgeous cats in my life.

Cheetahs are some of the most beautiful cats that roam the Savannas. The fastest of big cats, they race through the tall grasses like bullets. They are born athletes, built for the chase. However, the cats and their homes are in grave danger of extinction and destruction. Cheetahs live in Sub-Saharan Africa. While they used to roam other parts of the world, their numbers are now declining. Female Cheetahs often have three cubs at a time who will stay with her for the first twelve to eighteen months of their lives. The male Cheetahs will often live together while the females will separate off on their own. Unlike some of the other big cats Cheetahs do not roar but they are quite vocal. Cheetahs are built to run and have characteristics which make them the fastest cat. They hide in the grass, camouflaged, awaiting their prey. When the time is right they dart after the prey, knock it down and suffocate it with a death bite to the neck. Unfortunately, these magnificent cats face extinction due to hunting, bottle-necking, and their habitat being destroyed.

Cheetahs are extremely beautiful cats whose bodies are built for speed. They are long, thin and lanky which makes them excellent sprinters. Their bodies are specifically designed to race quickly for brief distances. This assists them in catching prey that many other wild cats are unable to (Mammals: Cheetahs). The Cheetah’s build is more similar to that of a greyhound rather than typical cats. They have small heads perched on top of their athletic bodies. Black spots decorate their golden yellow coats as well as their tales which are long and often have rings of black on them. Black tear marks run down from their eyes to the corners of their mouth. These are thought to be a natural protection from the glare of the sun, much as a football player would do.

Unfortunately, every time I go to the Zoo the cheetahs are always sleeping or hiding in the grass. I can't imagine how amazing it would be to see one in action!

I've got the world on a ... screen?

Elder Bednar is very intellectual. Sometimes when I hear him speak I get a little lost. I suppose this is because his intelligence far exceeds that of mine own. That is not a hit to me, I am just not at his level quite yet.
He gave an address at Brigham Young University Idaho to young adults in the Church titled 'Things as They Really Are'. This was a fascinating address in which he warns about some of the dangers of social media and different cyber activities. This address made it clear that despite the General Authorities being older and having grown up in a different time, they are not out of touch. Many of the things he shared were surprising. It is discouraging to hear the drastic number of people who are addicted to gaming or who are allowing their virtual life to take over their real life.
Elder Bednar warned, "I raise an apostolic voice of warning about the potentially stifling, suffocating, suppressing, and constraining impact of some kinds of cyberspace interactions and experiences upon our souls." I am grateful that Heavenly Father loves us and sent His apostle to warn of the dangers of something that can seem harmless and fun.
A couple years later Elder Bednar later gave an address entitled 'To Sweep the Earth as with a Flood'. Conversely this address talked about utilizing social media as a great tool to share the gospel. The address was given at BYU Education Week where the audience was quite a bit older then the young adults he spoke to previously. This was evident by his explanation of what certain social media sites were and what they could be used for. He said, "I exhort you to sweep the earth with messages filled with righteousness and truth." Social Media is a non invasive way to share our beliefs and to share the joy of the gospel.
These were two talks that I understood. Both of these talks are relevant to everyone. All can be more cautious to spend their time wisely and not allow distractions of any sort to become consuming or addicting. All can share the gospel online through a plethora of social media sites. Although evil and smut pervade the earth we can counteract it by sweeping the earth with beauty and truth!