"You Can't Handle the Truth!"

Many people have been curious about why I started blogging. The truth is I was going little crazy (evidenced in my last blog), and needed an outlet. I was determined to find a positive way to express my frustrations and since people often laughed when I told them my zany tales, I thought that just maybe I could write the stories down and try and find humor in all my daily encounters with Utah culture.

So, for those of you care, blogging has helped me tremendously. I now see a story almost everywhere and it has been fun and challenging to share those stories with you. I have been pleasantly surprised at how many LDS readers have appreciated how I approach things and have thanked me for giving them an insight into what it feels like to be an outsider. I have also gotten comments from many “PLU’S” who can totally relate to my experiences. I am happy they have found me and look forward to hearing more from them. However, a few readers have not been so enthusiastic. Unfortunately, it seems a few people were offended by my anecdotes. That was certainly never my intention. I just try to be honest about my life and feelings and add a touch of humor to both. I poke fun at myself as much as I do at Utah. I do appreciate all the commentary I am getting – and am pleased it is mostly positive. To those who fail to find any humor or empathy I ask what do you want from me?

“You want answers?”

“I want the truth!”

“You Can’t Handle the Truth!”

"Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn!"

About six months ago I met my husband, Dave, for lunch at the Gateway. Afterwards, I decided to do a little shopping. Now, I don’t think I have mentioned how much I love shopping. I was raised on the basic principle that:

There isn’t a problem that can’t be solved, if the answer means there is shopping involved!!

So, I am blissfully strolling through the streets… in my element …. thinking there is nothing that could spoil this lovely day. I wander into Brighton and head straight for the jewelry. You cannot imagine the sheer pleasure I get from this display of trinkets. I am trying on an absolutely adorable charm bracelet when this woman in the store decides to LOUDLY share a story about her son leaving on his mission. She literally starts to give a speech about the event. She continues her saga and the two sales people are so entranced they are nearly moved to tears. Since I am the only other person in this very small store, they glance over in my direction waiting for me to join in on the love fest. They clearly can not figure out why I am not captivated by this story and they stare at me as if I were some kind of freak. Really!!! Don’t they notice that I am shopping here? Does religion have to follow me everywhere? Well, this little episode sends me right over the edge. I drop the bracelet, and run out of the store in tears.

Silly? You bet!

Immature? Yep!

Real? Absolutely!!!

I sat on a bench outside of Brighton for about fifteen minutes and sobbed. I felt so sad, alone, and very stupid. Why had I let this loud mouth woman intrude on my delightful shopping excursion? I have nothing against her pride in her son and his mission, but staring at me like I was from Mars was rude and mean. Well…guess what missy? In the words of the handsome and smooth Rhett Butler, “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn!”