Revolutionary-guerillia-anarchist poetry reading and subsequent run-in with the police

My apologies for my severe lack of blogging this past week... like anyone actually reads this anyway (comments, anyone?!) But something happened truly blog-worthy on Sunday night, so I was pretty stoked.

Sunday night was the secret revolutionary-anarchy poetry reading, orchestrated by our dear John K. We were told to gather in an undisclosed location for a night of true revolution, to commemorate the destruction of a much-beloved BYU building. We planned to read our poems, then write them all over the walls of the doomed building. Told to travel in groups of one or two, I set off alone, soon joining up with two of my friends at the location. Although the door was supposedly open, we still thought it would be hardcore to climb through a broken window. We traversed the building, wandering up stairs, down stairs, through dark corridors and duct-taped rooms. For a while we were lost, but we finally made it to our meeting place in the old Mathematics portion of the building, past the old campus mailboxes. A group was gathered, and the spirit of the revolution was most definitely present. We were eager to perform our ritual, a little glimpse of rebellion in our otherwise mundane existence. However, we had not been in the room longer than 5 minutes when the BYU "police" ran in, throwing JK up against a wall and shouting at us that we were trespassing and breaking a law. We were told this was a misdemeanor, punishable by 6 months imprisonment or a $1000 fine. A hush fell over all, and the worry set in. I was sure we'd be arrested, carted off to the underground BYU jail where they torture the liberals and other non-conformists into submission. The civil disobedience in all of us faltered, as thoughts of Harvard Law School or Stanford business school flashed through our minds. We followed the officer's instructions to a tee, being incredibly polite and unfailingly honest. They took all of our names, IDs, and called in for background checks, while the posse of poser-revolutionaries sat in circles, disappointed in our severe lack of ability to break free of the system that maintains a tight grip on our futures. In the end, we were issued a warning, meaning that if we ever attempt to break into an abandoned building in Utah County ever again in our whole lives, then we'd be arrested and most likely given community service. JK suggested next time we go to Salt Lake.

The best moment of the evening: the policewoman reciting a Shel Silverstein poem she memorized with her son, and the policeman reciting his poem about an albatross he submitted in 10th grade to a competition. We got our poetry, but not quite the revolution we were seeking.

I'm digging....

1. Spain's defense minister, 7 months pregnant.


2. Chocolate-covered cinnamon bears. YUM.
3. My political science 472 oral final. So much work, yet so rewarding.
4. Sobe. I've downed three just this week. Carrot-Mango is the choice variety.
5. The Kennedy Center basement
6. Laying in the sunshine

the shower of death.

Last night, I went to take a shower at around 1 in the morning. I turn on the cold water, turn on the hot water, go to press the button to turn on the shower, and AHHH. BLACK WATER. Not just dirty grey. BLACK. SOLID. SOOTY. All over the tub, splashing on my legs. I screamed (not because it was gross, but I honestly felt like I was in some horror movie and was being attacked). Becca walks in, and we start dying laughing because the tub has speckles of black, disgusting water. Needless to say, I showered downstairs.

SID retreat

The SID retreat was absolutely divine and refreshing. Well, refreshing is a hard word to use when you've only gotten one hour of sleep. Intellectually refreshing. I drove up after our cook-out/party at Dr. Hudson's house for her WomanStatsers... what a COOL family. We had burgers and hot dogs (mine were veg-style), salads, chips and delicious desserts. My new friend Austin came and got me, and then we headed up to Big Cottonwood Canyon for the retreat. It was an incredibly long drive, but I didn't really know Austin all that well before so it was nice to chat for a while. When we got up the canyon, there was about 978 feet of snow, would've been perfect for snow-shoeing. But alas, we did not do such a thing. Instead, we played games and chatted by the fire, ultimately concluding the festivities with a honor-code-breaking cuddle-fest that wasn't too conducive to a good night's rest. Of course, the next morning, when Austin and I arrived at the villa, we crashed on his couches for about 2 hours before heading to campus for a study-a-thon to prepare for finals. And now, I'm blogging to procrastinate writing my paper on the role of political Islam in the Arab-Israeli conflict.

Here's us frolicking about before we head back to Provo:

Letter to the Editor, take 2

Written in response to Daily Universe Article (page 8, "Hospital Births a Safe Option)

Hospital births are not necessarily the safest option for a majority of mothers. In cases of non-complicated pregnancies, a non-intervention birth at home may be a safer alternative. Medical procedures that have come to be the norm in our society can actually put both the mother and baby at risk. First of all, more than 2/3 of laboring mothers in the United States opt for a pain-relieving epidural. In many cases, obstetricians will not even allow the mother a choice. However, epidurals affect birthing hormones, slowing down labor in many cases. As a result of the slowed labor, the doctors will administer pitocin, a synthetic form of the hormone oxytocin, increasing the intensity and frequency of uterine contractions. And quite reminiscent of our rushed culture, if the mother still does not progress in her labor, she will be convinced that the best thing for her and the baby would be a c-section. However, the reality is the c-section is the best thing for that obstetrician; c-sections are the most lucrative, efficient, and litigiously safe way to bring children into the world by the standard of the doctor. No wonder the American College of OB/GYNS denounces home births... perhaps there are some vested interests there? It is not taken into account that a c-section also increases the risk of infection and hemorrhage (and death), prolongs recovery, and inhibits breastfeeding initiation. But aren't we missing out on the beauty and spirituality of childbirth? We thank the doctor for "delivering the baby," but shouldn't we be praising the mother for her blood sacrifice? Our conception of childbirth must be rethought before we turn it into some weird medical, scientific phenomenon, and forget about what a supernal gift it is given to women by their God.

Story of Stuff

This little video makes me so frustrated at the state of our world, and the rampant consumerism of this country. Sick.

Tumbling gym

One last thing: last night, Devin, his girlfriend Hillary, and some others (oh and me) went to the Tumbling gym. So fun, but maybe not worth the money. I think it's because I am a big wuss when it comes to jumping really high, so I bet it was more fun for everyone else. But anyways, here's some highlights/videos. I really think Devin missed his calling as a gymnast... he is terribly good at it. It makes me look even more awkward, but at least Hillary was too. So, the end.

My cup floweth over... (MNCH conference, SOARS, GC of the LDS church)

Alright. So many acronyms, not enough typing strength. There is so much to blog about! I do not even know where to begin, but I will start at the logical beginning, Friday.

On Friday, it was the first ever Mother, Newborn, and Child Health Conference at BYU. It was a trial conference, and I personally think the department of Health did a terrific job putting it on. The speakers were incredible- the first two keynotes were from PAHO, and the final was a doctor in NYC. She was probably my favorite (and ironically enough, I ran into her at Temple Square the next day. She was attending General Conference with my professor, Len Novilla)... she spoke of women's issues specifically and how unless women are secure in their environment and on par with men they will never achieve good indicators of health. She showed a clip from the documentary "Dead Mums Don't Cry", about a maternity ward in Chad. It was wrenching to watch.... BBC does not mess around with its documentaries. After she delivered her presentation, it was time for an hour-long panel, then lunch. The food was less than desirable, but I sat and chatted with my fellow WomanStatser/women's health guru Charla, and my newly-acquired friend/future doctor extraordinaire Scott. Interesting conversation ensued.

The breakout speakers were good too, I went to one on cultural contexts on women's health and learned about some very strange practices. I had to head out early for WomanStats, but it was alright because I was getting pretty antsy at the conference.

Friday night was incredible-- I went to a performance up in SLC. It's called SOARS: Story of a Rape Survivor. It is a show conducted by the non-profit organization A Long Walk Home. It documents one young woman's path to healing from two incidences of rape in college through the eyes of her younger sister, who photographed the process. Through modern dance, monologue, and the visuals, her story as well as those of others really came alive. The performance was absolutely beautiful, but my favorite part of the evening was when the performers as well as the woman and her sister who created the show, held a question and answer discussion for over an hour. It was so enlightening.... and it really inspired me and called me to action. The more I learn about the horrors of sexual abuse, the more I want to rid the world of it. I start training as a rape crisis counselor and domestic violence shelter volunteer in a few weeks, and I am so anxious and eager to participate in the movement in helping women overcome these barriers to survival inflicted by men. Also, I organized an event for Thursday in which the Outreach Coordinator from the Center for Women and Children in Crisis is going to come and speak to Parity (and anyone else who wants to attend, 6 p.m. in 238 HRCB on the 10th). It is so necessary to raise awareness while wreaking a little havoc to invoke change here at BYU in regards to the attitude and/or knowledge about sexual assault and gender-based violence. And I'm quite happy to be in the role of subversive anti-violence feminist. I can't help but be incredibly passionate about these issues, because often they hit far too close to home for my own comfort. We cannot continue to ignore or devalue these women and their situations.

Which brings me to General Conference. Why, might you ask, does this topic being me to conference? Well, can I just say that Elder Richard G. Scott's talk on victims of sexual assault was by far my favorite. He said some powerful phrases that really struck a chord with me. He emphasized being healed through Christ, by accepting Him into our lives to facilitate the healing process. It's only through Him, with the help of professional counseling and therapy, that a person can truly be completely healed from such an experience. It was interesting to see the contrast from the SOARS performance, in which a woman used art and writing to heal herself. I wonder to myself how she could stand to benefit from the knowledge that Jesus Christ, our Savior and Redeemer, has experienced the pain she felt? He, as our elder brother, felt the pain of every sexual assault and every ounce of abuse. What a powerful message that we have as members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints! Also striking to me was the statement by Elder Scott that although a victim will continue to experience negative outcomes of the abuse, it does NOT define who they are, nor should they let it. If they do, that is simply Satan trying to belittle them as a son or daughter of a loving and caring Heavenly Father.

Of course, the other talks were incredible as well. I feel so blessed to be privy to the knowledge that those men (and woman) speaking to us are doing so through revelation from an involved God who cares for each and every one of us and knows exactly what we need to hear. I can't wait to get the Ensign next month to relive the past two days over and over!

As for the logistics: Saturday morning, I went over to Austin's and we ate yummy breakfast and watched the session in her living room. I thought it was so neat how we all stood up to sustain the new Prophet of the Church as groups according to our position within the Church. Although I know we all sorely miss President Hinckley, I know that President Monson is a prophet, seer, and revelator, and has been ordained by God to this position. He has big shoes to fill, but his humor and his testimony yesterday and today reassure me that he will do a marvelous job and is prepared to lead our Church. Saturday afternoon, I had the exciting privilege to attend the session in the Conference Center. It was fantastic, I can't believe how BIG it is! It was my first time, sad thinking that I have lived in Utah for three years now... but it was definitely worth the wait. After the session, I thought it might be a good idea to take the UTA bus home so I could make it to Becca's bridal shower since Austin was staying in SLC for a concert. Well.... something like 2 and a half hours later I arrived back in Provo, about an hour too late for the shower. I was so sad I missed it, because I was looking forward to it for forever, and I know Katy and Nieman worked really hard to plan the dinosaur-themed event. Luckily, most everyone was still there so I got to chat with everyone before they left, and I went through the loot that Becca received as gifts. Sorry Becca that I was late :( I know you probably already know that... but still.

Again on Sunday, it was up to SLC for me. Thrice in three days! Devin and I had tickets for the Sunday AM session, so we left at 7:30 to ensure we got there in enough time to get a decent seat (which we did). Of course, it was marvelous once again. Afterwards, we ate the lunch I packed just sitting on Temple Square, and then watched the last session in the Tabernacle. Though the seats were apparently very uncomfortable, it was neat to witness first-hand the transition from the early Church when it was built to what we are today in that immense Conference Center: a truly international, growing organization committed to preaching the Gospel of Jesus Christ while building up its members to become something divine. Sitting in that historical building reminded me of the pioneers, first arrived in the valley, following a leader into the great unknown. I can only fathom the immense faith they must have had, and know that nothing I do will ever come close to their struggles and triumphs. They paved the way for the Church to become what it is today. After the session, Devin and I drove over to our Aunt Linda and Uncle Rand's home and chatted with them for a little over an hour. It was getting late, and Devin has a paper due tomorrow, so then we headed home. And here I sit, contemplating the full days that have passed, and the even fuller ones to come.

More Holi pictures...

There has been a demand for more pictures from Holi. Here they are....

Mission call!!!!!

Today, I got my mission call. I'm going to...

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Oh wait, nope, nope I didn't.

April Fool's