Facebook Reflections

Today I was considering facebook, and what it has done for us. ...More accurately, what has facebook done for me? The answer is: NOTHING. For me, facebook results in--ironically--less face-to-face interaction and more depression and envy at the seemingly glamorous lives everyone is leading. The truth is, the way we present ourselves on facebook is completely idealized, and for the most part, an incredibly inaccurate portrayal of who we really are as people. It's unfortunate, but at this point kind of unavoidable. I'm not getting rid of facebook, I'm just trying to keep these things in mind before I go comparing my life to anyone else's. Also, I love stalking you through your photos, and I'm not about to give that up. Haha. Anyway. One other thing that keeps drawing my attention lately is the kinds of things people say when they're trying to stir up controversy. Some favorites are political and economical opinion, obama-bashing, conspiracy theories, passive-aggressive posts clearly targeted at someone specific but not named to give the illusion of generality, and gun rights.

Since when did facebook--a social networking site--become the platform for rants? An interesting idea, for sure. My best guess is that we're trying so hard to portray a very specific and unique vision of ourselves that we feel it necessary to outrage others in order to stand out. It's no longer adequate to simply be as we are...we have to keep posting more and more sensationalized material in order to feel like an individual. Definitely strange.

Also, I would like to mention that the two most controversial things I have ever posted about are...

Mangos

and

The importance of education, especially as an American woman.

Both were met with varying degrees of outrage.

Also, also, any time I have ever posted about famine, drought, food scarcity in developing countries, or public policy concerning any of these, I'm fairly certain there has only been one person to notice or care: Morgan.

In conclusion, we are incredibly, incredibly self-absorbed. Every one of us. Surprised? Me neither. I'm working on this myself.

before/after

It is amazing and frightening to me how quickly everything can change. I often think about my life and how different it's become in the past 6 weeks...terrifying really. It's hard to see how wonderful things are when you're in the midst of an easy life. I wish I could go back and warn myself, urge myself to stop waiting for the right moment for things, because really, there is only the present.

I cannot help but think of things in terms of before and after now. Before, silly worries. After, having a hard time caring about the "important" things of life at all. Before, plans. After, empty days. I see dates on things, and think only in terms of proximity to April 5th. 5 days before, how could I be thinking about such silly things? Two days before, how could I have known? It is frustrating to me to view myself in this way, but that's just it....how could anyone have known? I think of food, I bought this before it happened. He's gone but it's not. Or shampoo. I think of all the things I would give up...sometimes it's a game I play. I would give up: every possession. Every piece of clothing. I would give up my new Jeep. Oh? I would give up my entire education to change things...I would start all over. No...I would be in school for the rest of my life. I would amputate a limb. I would live in exile. I would die. It's awful; none of it matters. Every time, I get to the same answer...I would give anything at all, period. It's very revealing of myself, I suppose, but meaningless. That is what death is, despite the depth of your feelings or pain, there is no changing of it. Death is a quiet, locked room. A darkened sky. Turning around and discovering you are alone.

It's hard for me to live with myself most of the time. I am certainly changing. Who knows who I will end up being. We are all changing, taking what was once public and obvious and burying it deep within ourselves. Everyone has their own way, but all of us are making up our minds about things and keeping secrets. I believe that is the only way to move past tragedy. There is much to be said for public healing and letting others help you. But in the end, you must take the heart of it, that little seed of emotion that is inexplicable to others and find somewhere to put it. As much as we all want to feel normal again, no one wants to forget, so we lock it up where only we can find it when we need to.

I like to imagine that he is on a long trip, traveling every country on every continent. He is really only on a trip around the world, marveling at the extraordinary and having too much fun to ever come home. I imagine that he has found what he was missing during life. There is no work for him anymore, only adventure and discovery.

It is a still, quiet life I lead.

Advice.

My grandfather

gave me two pieces of advice.

The first, always make sure you're with someone who likes you more than you like them.

And the second, have fun, travel, and be young while you can.

It kind of bothered me when he told me the first one. It struck me as a very sad thing to say. In the least, I hoped I would never be the person to hold myself back or be happy being in control in a relationship. I could see the draw of it: if you're never vulnerable, you will never have to leave yourself open to get hurt, damaged. Of course, I was very young when he told me this, filled with romantic ideas about love and how relationships worked. I probably had little to no experience in the rocky field. All I knew was that when love happened, it would be perfect, and easy. Rare, I imagined, but effortless.

I am no expert in love. But I do know what bitter and exacting disappointment feels like, I know the pain that comes when things go wrong, and I know just how fragile my little heart can be. After awhile, I began to believe in my grandfather's advice against my own reason. It was kind of weird to realize I'd become the person I never wanted to be, but that was life, right? It's a hard habit to break out of, encasing yourself with security. But I think it's almost certainly worth it.

When I actually think about my grandfather, I imagine him as a photograph I once took, wrinkled hand resting on the arm of an equally old and beaten chair on the porch. I think of rough skin that grabbed my wrists and wrestled me playfully into submission, of hands that have done so many things I'll never even know or understand. I'm afraid that's how it always is; we only ever get to see singular parts of those closest to us no matter how hard we look; it's so easy and common to miss the whole. I don't think he ever followed his own advice, although perhaps he wished he could have. It seems the simpler thing to never be vulnerable, but although he was a tough, weathered man on the outside, he was more dedicated to taking care of my grandmother than anyone else could have, not in softness but in hardness. He was famous for saying clever things like the first bit of advice that made people chuckle, but deep down he was a much gentler person; it just took the right way of looking to see that.

I think, in retrospect, I can only choose one of these to follow. Fundamentally, they are opposite ideas. One, protect yourself and take the careful route. Or two, dive in headfirst and follow your passion. Really, I'll end up remembering the second piece of advice, which I take to mean, go out and make the most of it. Common sense and responsibility threaten to take over my life every day, but I'm trying to take his wisdom and just do what I'd like to do. Coming from someone who's seen so much more than I have, I've accepted that he had a unique view of what is truly important in this crazy life.

I miss him very much. I wonder how many things he told me that just passed right by. I think about him often, and the type of person I want to be. Going in headfirst.

Jennifer

Does anyone remember...

...when I adamantly refused to ever wear or accept the wearing of leggings? Can you even imagine? I mean, what was I thinking? It's silly. I think I actually remember telling my mom to punch me in the face if I ever gave into the trend. And now, my friends, I wear leggings all the time.

It's kind of the same thing with rompers. Don't hate me. It's a hard thing to embrace. If you're male and reading this, you probably don't even know what I'm talking about. To be clear, I do not own a romper, and maybe I never will. But I hated them with a passion when they first started popping their odd little selves up all over, and now...not so much.

What I'm trying to say is, people change their opinions about things. Usually, it's only a matter of time, and usually, it's a result of exposure to the thing and lessening the shock of it--whether there was ever any real reason to be shocked or not. I'm not just talking about fashion here. I never believed I would drink alcohol. I never believed I would pierce any part of my face. And I never anticipated having openly gay friends. None of these things, in my opinion, are morally wrong. But in our country today, and in our state, I would have no trouble at all finding people who disagree. In a crowd, I could probably reach my hand in any direction and find someone.

I once had a discussion with a good friend of mine about this. She simply could not understand why people would be so horrified by gays. I tried to explain to her the small-town mentality I knew to influence a lot of people I knew. Some people are influenced by religion, others by their moral value system. Despite this, all she feels is their judgment, and their hate. Even as I was trying to explain it, it sounded absurd to me. And like a stupid excuse. I'm not really sure how else to explain it. The worst thing was, I remember when I was shocked to hear about someone being gay. Then I moved one hour out of my world and was exposed to a little taste of the real world.

Over a small amount of time, I actually let myself know and become friends with people who happen to identify as gay. And can I just tell you, they're really awesome people. Just like me (ha). But seriously, people just like you or I. I think one of the main problems here is that everyone who is so horrified by other sexualities can't even imagine a world where that exists. They can't walk in another's shoes or imagine what it might be like to be that person, different, singled out, and denied.

No one knows how to approach it. I guess I don't either. But it really frustrates me to see people, even friends, denied basic rights as citizens because our state and country decide to impose their moral system upon a group. Arguments can be made about the "true nature" of marriage, and how we "should" be biologically, but the truth is, those are only excuses. Our lawmakers and judgers are just a bunch of leggings and romper haters. Maybe they'll never change, but maybe that's because they'll never give themselves the option. I don't know.

And by the way, my God hates no one.

Love, Jennifer

thoughts on self-portraits

Although it may seem like a project of pure vanity, taking a self-portrait 365 days in a row is not always so easy. To be honest, I'm not exactly sure why I started in the first place. Maybe I just needed some sort of goal to work towards with the start of the new year. Maybe it just seemed like a good challenge, or a way to sharpen my photography skills. Or something. But I suspect it had more to do with the fact that sometimes I just feel incredibly insecure with myself and having my picture taken. Which is kind of a silly reason to take one every day, if you think about it...but nonetheless, here I am. I'm still not sure what I've taken from this little venture; in fact, I'm kind of puzzled a lot of the time.

The first surprise was that the best pictures I've taken have occurred on days where A)I really had no direction for what I wanted it to look like and B)I allowed myself a little time and creative license to explore.

The second (sort of ) surprise was that the simple things usually turn out to be the most beautiful. I've realized more and more that my "style," if you will, is looking at the small pieces of things...not only with this project, but photography in general. It's been kind of interesting to examine myself as bits to see how each photo stands alone. Sometimes our details get lost until you actually take the time to look at them one-by-one. Which might be a metaphor for something more meaningful, or maybe just a tip for an interesting artistic experience. haha. Like I said, sometimes if I overthink this, I just end up puzzled by the whole thing.

The third discovery is pretty simple. Almost anything looks beautiful with the right lighting and cropping. Simple.

I'm not quite sure if I'm going in the right direction with this, as one big thing I've discovered is that photography is both encapsulating the truth and embodying a really believable lie. For that I am so sorry; I insisted to myself and to everyone else that I really just wanted to capture myself honestly for entire year to monitor my changes. And for a month or two I actually did that. But let's be honest, the early pictures are far less exciting or beautiful than the latter and at this point I think that's because those were the truthful ones. Editing can be so misleading. It's way too easy to make something look beautiful while sacrificing reality. I don't know. It's not such a big thing, I suppose, but I feel a bit like an imposter sometimes. I'm still editing out those insecurities.

I guess I've realized that in photography, or art, or pretty much anything, we see what we'd like to. I can make a photo be anything I want it to, even if it's stretching or even completely departing from the truth. We will see things in the way that is most comfortable, which is kind of a universal thing, albeit unfortunate.

Anyway, just thought I'd share a few thoughts about this. Almost halfway through!

Love, Jennifer

Today I was thinking, the reason I love all of you so much is not for what I know of you, but for all of the things I have no clue about.

Funny, isn't it?

Love, Jennifer

My City

My city is a city of sirens.

A city of footsteps and sidewalks and people with places to be.

A city of seasons, bleak and fleeting and indulgent and fresh.

My city is a city of change.

A city of principle in the daylight and neon in the dark, if you know where to be.

A city of people who belong, people who persist, and people who fear.

A city of the mountains,

A city of the streets.

A city of songs, a city of solitude, and a city of holding breaths.

A city of flavors--the divine, the solid, the average, the exquisite.

Mine is a city of nighttime walks. Of backstreets, of streetlights.

A city of conversations and secrets.

My city is a city of open arms.

A city without judgment, a city of no regrets.

A city of pollution.

My city is a city of friends on red rugs,

A city of apartments and heaters that sometimes work and refrigerators with soymilk and cranberry juice...if you know what I mean.

A city of souls, of hands, of lips all coming together.

A city of back porches and summer afternoons.

A city of the most incredible heartbreaks.

A city of new outlooks, of chance; A city of unbelievable choice.

A city of sleepovers and magic kissing and decisions, decisions, decisions, decisions.

Mine is a city of trains, of cars, and of airplanes that graze the horizon.

A city of grids.

A city of purpose.

My city is a city that breathes.

A city that lives.

A city that exists in loneliness and cohesion at exactly the same time.

And a city that never quite stops its progression or heartbeat.

Mine is a city of whatever I want it to be.

A city of silence.

My city is a city of sirens, of sidewalks.

Love, Jennifer

lasts

"I have recently become a secret connoisseur of 'last looks'. You know the way people look at you when they believe it's for the last time? I've started collecting these looks."

Anyone know the movie? I've been thinking about this a bit the past few days...last looks, last moments, last time being in one place at a certain time in your life, that kind of thing.

I find it very interesting how different things can seem depending on whether they will be changing anytime soon or not. There's always something indescribably sad about the last of anything for me, even when it's something I never enjoyed in the first place. Just knowing that I'll never have it again, or never have it in the same way again gives me such a feeling of strange melancholy. Every last day at a job, last day in a grade in school, last day of summer, last day of vacation, anything, leaves an impression on me. My usual response is to want a photograph, but that's never quite the same, is it?

Even more interesting are the last moments that pass by without even being noticed at the time. Something ends with a finality you never even expected, then only in retrospect can you see that it was the last. These are the worst. I hate the feeling of something sneaking up on me and ending just like that, without even being able to savor its bittersweet departure. That is, after all, the draw to last moments, I think--being able to bask in the absolutely wonderful and exquisitely painful last seconds. I find myself looking back and trying to remember and analyze exactly how I felt in that moment since I never had the time to appreciate it while it happened. Last looks and promises I made with a certain person before they dropped off the face of the earth. Last time holding hands, kissing, feeling connected before everything changed, inexplicably and unprecedented. It all seems so foreign in retrospect. I always think how could I not have grasped onto that moment before it slipped away? But then maybe things just seem better once they're gone.

And the very last kind...moments you know are the last without really knowing why. I think everyone's experienced this, and I can safely say it's one of the very most panic-inducing, completely uncomfortable things I have ever felt. A lot of details of our day-to-day lives pass by without ever being noticed, but these...no, these are burned into our minds in a very strange but persistent way because we know things are changing. It's kinda creepy sometimes, to be honest. It might be easier if we couldn't sense these things, because as much as we hate whatever reality we are facing, the other part of these feelings is that we know no matter what, there is nothing we can do to stop it. That moment when you know a breakup is imminent, or someone's love is slipping away, or your life is headed into a completely new direction--that means leaving behind the present. Strange is the best way I can describe it.

Maybe I find all of these things so intriguing because it's far too easy to take the moments we have for granted while we still have them. It's easy to forget just how things feel until it's passed us by. Ironically, I never feel more alive than when I'm faced with the opposite and equal forces of change and destruction and a lot of wholly unexpected and new events. I try to hold onto those last moments because they are the last solid things I'll have for awhile, and part of me knows it. Then, it's off I go into the unknown.

Love, Jennifer

A lot to think about.

This is a blog about getting through the hard things in life and one about how sometimes, certain life events occur due to something much greater than coincidence. I'm notorious for being vague and unspecific when I write about things, especially things about my life, but I'm going to put all that aside and try to be honest and specific this time.

Donald broke up with me today and it feels like my very life has been torn apart.

I tell you this because, as far as I know, the only people who read this are the people who have always been there for me and been through it all with me and I trust you. That being said, if you know anything about me and my need for safety and comfort in life, you will know that right now I'm a big fucking mess. Change, this kind of change, is the most terrifying thing I could think of to face. Being with someone for a year and a half shaped my life in a way that it became my life. Not that I had nothing besides him, but our relationship was so integrated into my daily life, I have a hard time knowing who I am without it, without him.

We aren't together because, apparently, we need time apart to "work on things." If you asked, I'm not exactly sure what these things are, but they may or may not include me getting really angry over stuff sometimes and other such things. I have many faults, as does he, but I'm not going to list those because that would be kind of rude and petty at this point. And you know, he's probably right. Being alone will probably give me the focus and perspective to figure out things that have been occupying my mind for quite awhile now. But just because it's right doesn't mean it's easy; in fact, every fiber of my being wants for this to not be my reality right now...

The other thing I wanted to point out is Significance. With a capital S, because a very strange and foreign part of myself keeps whispering that this has occurred at a pivotal point in my life, and maybe this may be the first step towards Something. This, almost exclusively, is the thought that is keeping me alive right now. I hope that it is true, I hope I can continue to trust my intuition and take advantage of my situation. If I'm wrong about this, well, I wouldn't be all that surprised. If I'm right, God or the Universe or some other such thing obviously has a secret plan I have yet to figure out.

It's kind of strange, isn't it, to think that there are forces at work aligning things for you that you can't even imagine yourself? I'm sure you all know what I'm talking about, the best things in your life kind of just showed up sometimes, without any warning and sometimes only after you've been through a lot of pain to get there.

So, here I am. I'm trying to be optimistic. I know, without a doubt, that I am about to face some very hard and dark days and I don't know how I will cope. I'm trying very hard to find something that makes my life significant right now. It's terrifying, really. But there are many people in my life much wiser than I, and they seem to think I am some sort of strong person. If only they knew, right? Ha.

I guess I'm at much the same position I was my very first weeks of college, when "stepping forward into the dark" was pretty much my theme. I'm going to hate myself for being so optimistic, I can tell, but right now it's helping, and simply talking about this is helping. Wish me luck, I guess. Here I go.

Love, Jennifer

P.S. I have the best roommate in the history of all roommates. She literally risked her life (in my opinion) and drove through a snowstorm because I needed her. I'm speechless, really. Also, Morgan. Just....Morgan. I have all I need for now.

why i like photography, or, a memory from last spring.

I was thinking today about my very last day on campus last spring. It was my last time walking around before I moved out, and there were new graduates walking around occasionally in caps and gowns. Other than that, nothing. Just the most quiet spring day I can remember; perfect weather. I had nowhere to be so I just wandered around, with my camera of course, because I document everything.

It was the strangest feeling....I was inexplicably sad that it was ending; I felt as if I had to perfectly frame every picture I took of random stuff in order to immortalize it into my memory. I felt as if I'd never be there again. Which is, of course, untrue, but also an interesting thought...

I really never will be there again. The way I felt, the things I saw and knew, or thought I knew, will never be the same even if I try.

Maybe this is what I like about photography; maybe I need it because some part of me feels it all slipping away and wants a reminder of where I have been for when life becomes less simple. I don't know.

Love, Jennifer

Hope persists.

So this is about how my life feels lately. Open one door, get shut out, open another. Which opens to more choices. This job thing has become rather tedious lately. There's really no way of telling what will work and what won't, so I keep turning in my applications and resumes, hoping to hit the jackpot and find that one door that actually opens for me. No luck so far, but what can I do except keep trying?

Today was rather full of ups and downs, first some ups as I left a couple places after turning my applications in, getting actually positive responses from both. Let me tell you, there is no feeling like hope. Later, at the place where I was most excited to speak with someone about a job, I got the worst response yet, and left feeling really angry and even embarrassed. All because of the wrong advice given to me when I called earlier. Not my fault. Not exactly anyway. But I left feeling so terrible and also (worst of all!) so suddenly devoid of hope about my situation. I noticed then this really strange tendency for my mood to completely affect the way I perceive the world. Earlier, as I drove home feeling awesome about good outlooks for the future, pretty much EVERYTHING I saw made me happy. I noticed how great Salt Lake is, how freaking wonderful bobbleheads in cars are, how perfectly fall-like it is these days, and how much I still had going for me, jobless or not. After being so jilted, I drove home hating pretty much everything, including all those people who have jobs and can only complain about having to go to work. At least you have work!

Really, nothing changed today. Except for my perspective on everything, and I must say, I prefer a positive outlook. I am learning though, that hope is an especially springy friend and always seems to bounce back, equally as full of life as before. Which is good, because during the hardest times, sometimes all you can do is hold onto those little strings of faith and wait for things to work out.

Oh, and by the way! Excellent news, if I may say so myself. Nicole, from ANTM 13 has made it to the top two. I'm just going to brag here, and say she has been my favorite since her very odd beginnings. Good to know I'm right :) If you have no idea what I'm talking about, shame on you. Or good for you? Something.

Love, Jennifer

divisions

July 20, 2009

Hello everyone. Sorry about the long absence, but to be honest, I'm often so bored I can't bring myself to do anything. And also I hate using the family computer, but that's another story.

So....a lot of the time my thoughts for blogs are golf course thoughts, which is to say things I ponder over while spending hours mowing grass every day. However, this one is a thought that's been percolating inside my head for months, or possibly even longer, I'm not sure. It's something that's developed slowly, and progressively become more obvious to me in my own relationships and those I observe of others. Sometimes it really discourages and frustrates me. So I'll throw it out there and see what you think.

Last time I blogged about passion, and this is somewhat related, but sort of different in this context.

Love.

It's puzzling to me why we all have such a hard time with it. Life is at its best when we feel love and are able to give love to others, but a lot of our time is spent denying it to those we don't feel like deserve it.

For instance, during my first year of college I encountered the strangest feelings between people who are LDS/people who are not. Taking into account that a lot of the instances that stuck out to me are simply extremes, a large amount of lds kids i knew had this habit of building walls. of not knowing how to coexist with others who have different values than them and quite frankly not wanting to. In return, many who were not lds, and specifically those who weren't from utah had this terrible opinion of mormons because they came across as closed-off, closed-minded, and definitely judgmental. it was frustrating to me. a large part of me tried to change those opinions and wanted to convince everyone that mormons weren't the worst people in the world and weren't out to judge them, but to be honest it's often a failing argument.

After a short amount of time, i realized how puzzling this problem is. on one hand, coming from an lds community and family, i can see their point of view. What comes across as judgmental and closed-minded is simply a person trying their very hardest to protect what they believe and live up to the standards they have chosen. Unfortunately sometimes people can't help avoiding building this box around themselves. It's not that they have feelings of animosity towards others, it's just that they're fiercely trying to be something different and don't know how to reconcile that with the way others are living their lives...sometimes really crazy lives.

On the other hand, it would frustrate me to no end. I hated that there had to be this division between what seemed like two clear groups. I have no answers for this, but I always wondered why people couldn't find a way to coexist. Find some way to be themselves and uphold their values without alienating others and seeming judgmental. I suppose in the end, it's better to be exactly who you want to be even if it offends others, but is there no middle ground?

As for love, I felt none of it, from either side. People automatically judged me and labeled me as a stuffy mormon because that is my religion. I could literally see it in their faces as they would dismiss me upon hearing this bit of information. Donald started trying his best to defend me. He's wonderful, and I love that about him, but I understood his need to quickly explain that I was more open-minded than other mormons. There was literally a small window of time to try to save yourself before your opportunity to get to know anyone was missed. Alternately, the people I was supposed to go to church with quickly realized I was trying to live in both worlds, and like the others dismissed me for that as well. I was too mormon for a lot of so-called "normal" people, and too not-mormon for all the lds kids in my building and around campus. I will give them credit for trying. And I must admit that there were 2 or 3 people who genuinely accepted me for who I was, but so many others obviously disapproved of my stance in life. Of course, it didn't help that I am dating someone who isn't lds. All I will say about this is that I have decided to accept people for what they are rather than what they aren't.

I guess this is the thing....this division I felt, albeit in a small way and seemingly unimportant in the grand scheme of things, exists among so many groups, religious or ethnic or whatever. We find it so hard to accept what is different. To be a bit of a nerd for a moment, this reminds me of the scene in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (movie) where harry is with luna in the forest. they are petting the thestrals and luna explains that they're really gentle creatures but people tend to stay away from them simply because they are so different.

I hate to see it, but no matter who you are, you have held back loving or accepting or even just giving someone a chance because they have been different than you. I suppose at this point I'm trying to reconcile my two worlds, which is sometimes very stressful to me. I'm trying so hard to love and accept everyone equally. That, I believe, is much more important than building walls around myself to make up for some self-doubt about who I am. I guess I have already decided who I am and what is important to me, and loving someone who isn't the same isn't going to change that.

Love, Jennifer