Glenn Pace's Beautiful Speech on Womanhood

The Divine Nature 
and Destiny of Women

GLENN L. PACE

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Glenn L. Pace was a member of the First Quorum of the Seventy
of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
when this devotional address was given on 9 March 2010.

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The Family: A Proclamation to the World” states:

All human beings—male and female—are created in the image of God. Each is a beloved spirit son or daughter of heavenly parents, and, as such, each has a divine nature and destiny. Gender is an essential characteristic of individual premortal, mortal, and eternal identity and purpose.¹

My focus this morning will be on the divine nature and destiny of women and the sacred role they play in the sanctification and purification of men.

I’m going to start by giving you two exclusive scoops. First, males and females are different. Second, those differences are more than physical.

I developed a love and appreciation for womanhood in my childhood. My mother, sisters, grandmas, aunts, and female cousins and friends brought immeasurable love into my young life. This set the stage for the adult relationships with my wife, daughters, and granddaughters.

All of the above have contributed to my feelings of reverence, adoration, and even veneration of righteous women.

In pondering the effect women have had on my life, I have concluded that there has been a metamorphosis of my spirit that could not have taken place without these relationships.

Of course, the first woman in my life was my mother. How can I describe the impact of my mother’s love? A lullaby, being tucked in bed, are you warm enough, a kiss goodnight, Glenn, you’d better get up, you don’t want to be late for school, a kiss good morning, you are such a special boy, oh honey, how I love you, I made some chocolate chip cookies, I want to take your picture, I’m so proud of you, I know you can do it, are you going to go on a mission, you are going to go on a mission, I miss you so much, frequent love notes, let’s go look at the roses, did you see the full moon, aren’t the mountains beautiful today, the love in her eyes, her touch, her smell, her elegance, her tender heart, her sensitivity, her femininity.

That was just a blink in a lifetime of nurturing.

In addition to the loving care I received from my mother, I received similar nurturing from my big sister, who was my mentor and protector.

When I was old enough to enter kindergarten, I was worried sick. I had watched my sister do her homework and was concerned by the fact that I didn’t know how to read or do arithmetic. The night before school started, my apprehension must have shown, because she came into the bedroom and started talking to me about school. I explained my concerns, and she immediately began to allay my fears. She told me about recess. I could handle that. Then she explained that I would be taught to read one word at a time, and she assured me that I was smart and wouldn’t have any trouble.

Now, how would a brother handle a situation like that?

“Wow, you’re in big trouble! You may never graduate from kindergarten. But I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. If you will give me your allowance, I’ll help you.”

As I mentioned earlier, men and women are different.

My appreciation for women rose to a whole new dimension when our two daughters came into our lives. There is something angelic about daughters—at least in the eyes of their father.

I have sometimes lamented that I wasn’t born with the perspective daughters brought into my life. If a man could be born with that insight, his respect for and treatment of a young woman during his dating years would improve significantly.

I remember a time when my oldest daughter was just six or seven years old. I was struggling with saying my personal prayers on a consistent basis. I remember walking into her bedroom one night to listen to her say her prayers. Her room felt so peaceful, innocent, and pure that I felt like praying. I explained as best I could that I’d like to get into the habit of saying my prayers and asked if I could pray at her bedside. She looked a little puzzled but agreed. On the second or third night, as I began my silent prayer, I felt her little hand on my head. She then turned on her side and with both hands began running her fingers through my hair. I felt touched by an angel. I must admit, it felt so good that my prayers became longer.

To this day, whenever there is a family gathering, I will eventually work my way over to the couch or chair where she is located, sit on the floor, and wait for her to run her fingers through my hair.

From the time my second daughter was a baby through her early grade-school years, I would rock her to sleep at night and carry her to bed. I always knew when she was asleep because tiny beads of perspiration would appear on her little nose. I would look at her angelic face and wonder if heaven could feel any better than this.

I concluded it must be a great comfort to her to fall asleep in her father’s arms. Now I realize the peace and comfort she transmitted to me was possibly even greater.

I have always been impressed with the love and respect our Savior bestowed upon the women in His life. As we read about these associations, our focus is generally on what He taught them and the love and understanding He gave them. Have you ever considered the possibility that these women provided immense comfort to His burdened soul? It is my belief that He needed them as He journeyed toward living a perfect life so He could provide the ultimate sacrifice.

I repeat that my associations and interplay with the righteous women in my life have created a metamorphosis of my spirit and have been purifying and sanctifying.

I’d now like to turn to the more intimate relationship of husband and wife and the impact that relationship has on our exaltation.

You are all familiar with the story of the Creation. I’m going to pick up the account where Adam was placed on the earth. Please pay particular attention to the sequence of events leading up to the introduction of Eve.

And the Gods formed man from the dust of the ground, and took his spirit (that is, the man’s spirit), and put it into him; and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and man became a living soul.

And the Gods planted a garden, eastward in Eden, and there they put the man, whose spirit they had put into the body which they had formed.

And out of the ground made the Gods to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food; the tree of life, also, in the midst of the garden, and the tree of knowledge of good and evil. [Abraham 5:7–9]

Thus far there is no mention of Eve.

And out of the ground I, the Lord God, formed every beast of the field, and every fowl of the air; and commanded that they should come unto Adam, to see what he would call them; and they were also living souls; for I, God, breathed into them the breath of life, and commanded that whatsoever Adam called every living creature, that should be the name thereof.

And Adam gave names to all cattle, and to the fowl of the air, and to every beast of the field; but as for Adam, there was not found an help meet for him. [Moses 3:19–20]

In summary, before Eve appeared, the world had been created, Adam had been placed in the Garden of Eden, and he had named and associated with all of the animals. He was enjoying a utopia in physical surroundings as well as open communication with God. What more could he ask for? What more could he need?

As President J. Reuben Clark put it:

Adam wandered alone in the glorious Garden in Eden, which he had dressed and adorned—the Garden of Eden with its stately trees, its lovely flowers heavy with sweet odors, its grassy swards, its magnificent vistas with the far reaches of its placid rivers, with its gaily plumed birds, its lordly and graceful beasts, all at peace, for sin was not yet in the world. Through all this magnificence Adam wandered, lonely, unsolaced, uncompanioned, the only being of his kind in the whole world, his life unshared in a solitude of exquisite elegance, and, what was of far greater moment, his mission, as he knew it to be, impossible of fulfillment, except the Father gave him an helpmeet.²

I’d like to share a perspective from John Milton’s Paradise Lost that fully resonates with my soul.

Much like President Clark, Milton describes the beauty of the Garden and the variety of animals. However, he goes into more detail on his perception of Adam’s frustration and loneliness. In his account, Adam watches the interplay between the animals and communicates with them as best he can. However, Adam concludes something is drastically amiss. Milton wrote:

They rejoice
Each with their kind, lion with lioness;
So fitly them in pairs thou hast combin’d;
Much less can bird with beast, or fish with fowl
So well converse, nor with the ox the ape;
Worse then can man with beast, and least of all.³

In other words, Adam is saying, “What’s wrong with this picture?”

Milton goes on to suggest that God delayed the introduction of Eve until Adam could fully appreciate her. Seeing that Adam is now ready for the introduction of Eve, God describes what is going to happen next. I love Milton’s description of what Eve would mean to Adam:

What next I bring shall please thee, be assur’d,
Thy likeness, thy fit help, thy other self,
Thy wish exactly to thy heart’s desire.⁴

“Thy fit help”? No, this doesn’t mean she would be in good shape. It means she would be a match, a complement, a counterpart, even his “other self.”

Finally, Eve stood before him, and she exceeded his highest expectations. He had never seen anything like her in the garden. Milton continues:

Under his forming hands a creature grew,
Manlike, but different sex, so lovely fair,
That what seem’d fair in all the world, seem’d now
Mean, or in her summ’d up, in her contain’d,
And in her looks, which from that time infus’d
Sweetness into my heart, unfelt before.⁵

I hope Milton will forgive me for adding my opinion that the “sweetness” Adam felt, which was “unfelt before,” was much more than that which was generated by Eve’s physical appearance. Those feelings flowing into him had as their source her wellspring. His feelings were the direct result of standing in front of one of the daughters of heavenly parents who had a divine nature different from, but complementary to, his own divine nature.

I believe the Father’s statement “It is not good that the man should be alone” (Genesis 2:18) had a much more profound meaning than the obvious biological implications. It also went further than providing Adam with “company.” Adam’s ability to obtain the purification necessary to get back into the presence of God was dependent upon his continuous association with Eve.

Remember what Adam said when Eve stood beside him for the first time: “Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife, and they shall be one flesh” (Abraham 5:18).

Many years after the creation of Adam and Eve, Paul said, “Nevertheless neither is the man without the woman, neither the woman without the man, in the Lord” (1 Corinthians 11:11).

In the Doctrine and Covenants we read:

In the celestial glory there are three heavens or degrees;

And in order to obtain the highest, a man must enter into this order of the priesthood [meaning the new and everlasting covenant of marriage];

And if he does not, he cannot obtain it. [D&C 131:1–3]

Why can’t he obtain it? It’s not just because he didn’t obey a celestial commandment. It’s because he didn’t become a celestial being. There is a limit to our spiritual development as long as we are single. There is a spiritual development that can only be obtained when a man and a woman join their incomplete selves into a complete couple. Just as conception requires the physical union of male and female, perfection requires the union of the very souls of male and female.

Elder Richard G. Scott has said:

In the Lord’s plan, it takes two—a man and a woman—to form a whole. Indeed, a husband and wife are not two identical halves, but a wondrous, divinely determined combination of complementary capacities and characteristics.⁶

Men and women can accomplish marvelous things alone. However, they are incomplete until united intellectually, emotionally, physically, and, most important, spiritually.

The world we live in has gone awry with its focus on the physical part of the male and female relationship. If there is too much focus on the physical, the vital areas of intellectual, emotional, and spiritual union are not being placed in an environment where they can flourish and grow. Our current society is so obsessed with “making love” that they are not developing a complete relationship that would enable them to “express love.”

Since melding our divine natures is a necessary element in bringing about perfection, we must guard against any deterioration of those natures. Sisters, keep in mind anything that detracts from your divine nature should be avoided. You live in a time when you have more opportunities and options available to you than any other women have had throughout the history of mankind. Some of these options will complement your God-given natures. Others will chip away at it. Some things will make you strong. Others will make you hard. Some will increase your spiritual sensitivity. Others will separate you from the Spirit.

If the world keeps chipping away at the divine nature of women, it is probable that our relationships in marriage will not bring about the sanctification necessary for exaltation or, as a minimum, the process will be delayed.

I express my love and appreciation to my wife. She is an example of one who has retained her eternal nature through 47 years of marriage, six children, 29 grandchildren, and putting up with me.

Wearing that eternal nature well, she has supported me as a General Authority for 25 years. I could not have served nor would I have been qualified to serve without her love and support. She has been the crucial key to the metamorphosis I desperately needed to become worthy and able to serve.

Her eternal nature and destiny was never clearer to me than at the temple marriage of our youngest son. I have had the sacred honor of performing the temple marriages of all six of our children, and they along with their spouses were worthy to be in attendance on this occasion.

Prior to the ceremony as I spoke of sacred things, I looked at my wife, who was seated next to our son. My spiritual eyes were opened, and I saw her shining in all of her glory as she basked in the warmth of having joy and rejoicing in her posterity. She was radiant. I saw before me a priestess, queen, and goddess. There is absolutely nothing the world can offer that could come close to the fulfillment she was feeling. There was no accomplishment in the world she could have attained that would have made me love her more or be more proud of her efforts. Her eternal nature was then and is now still intact.

We commonly hear the phrase “Men have the priesthood and women have been given the blessing of procreation.” Without perfection, neither assignment meets the full measure of its creation. After perfection comes the ultimate role of god or goddess. These are eternal roles in which one continues to complement the other throughout all eternity.

It is the marriage ceremony in the temple in which husband and wife receive the power to perfect their relationship and, thereby, obtain their exaltation.

Elder John A. Widtsoe put it this way:

Modern revelation sets forth the high destiny of those who are sealed for everlasting companionship. They will be given opportunity for a greater use of their powers. That means progress. They will attain more readily to their place in the presence of the Lord; they will increase more rapidly in every divine power; they will approach more nearly to the likeness of God; they will more completely realize their divine destiny. And this progress is not delayed until life after death. It begins here, today, for those who yield obedience to the law.⁷

I emphasize that the power coming down from heaven on those married in the temple by the holy priesthood cannot alone bring about the progress mentioned by Elder Widtsoe. It takes the righteous interplay of male and female.

I like the Quaker proverb “Thee lift me and I’ll lift thee and we’ll both ascend together.”⁸

What will happen when we finally “ascend together”? I can put it no better than did one of the great women in our history, Eliza R. Snow, who said:

When I leave this frail existence,
When I lay this mortal by,
Father, Mother, may I meet you
In your royal courts on high?
Then, at length, when I’ve completed
All you sent me forth to do,
With your mutual approbation
Let me come and dwell with you.⁹

Sisters, I testify that when you stand in front of your heavenly parents in those royal courts on high and look into Her eyes and behold Her countenance, any question you ever had about the role of women in the kingdom will evaporate into the rich celestial air, because at that moment you will see standing directly in front of you, your divine nature and destiny. I say this in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Notes

1. “The Family: A Proclamation to the World,” Ensign, November 1995, 102.

2. J. Reuben Clark: Selected Papers: On Religion, Education, and Youth, ed. David H. Yarn, Jr. (Provo: Brigham Young University Press, 1984), 59–60.

3. John Milton, Paradise Lost (1667), ed. David Hawkes (New York: Barnes & Noble Classics, 2004), 249; book VIII, lines 392–97.

4. Milton, Paradise, 251; book VIII, lines 449–51.

5. Milton, Paradise, 253; book VIII, lines 470–75.

6. “The Joy of Living the Great Plan of Happiness,” Ensign, November 1996, 73–74.

7. John A. Widtsoe, Evidences and Reconciliations (Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1960), 300.

8. See John Townsend Trowbridge, A Story of the “Barefoot Boy” (1877):

If thee’ll lift me while I lift thee,

We shall go up together!

9. “O My Father,” Hymns, 1985, no. 292, verse 4; text by Eliza R. Snow.

Falling for my English Major

This poem started out in a different way; it was originally meant to be a 6-month dating anniversary and one-year meeting anniversary present for my English-major honey. We had a class together winter 2009, and our first conversation basically consisted of my challenging his choice of major--a major to which I myself was converted by spring of the same year.
Anway--I was pleasantly surprised with these skewed results.




Falling for My English Major


I was minding my own business, really,

“What will you do with an English degree?”

Daddy’s little parrot.

And yet I was falling fast—not for his serious green eyes

and curious half laugh,

or even his memory for Robert Frost’s rhyme,

But for (even) older men:

Arsenic-tongued Edgar Allen and dear William’s dreary drawls,

Joseph’s tortured rhetoric (through his beautifully thick accent).

Spring is the season of lovers, they say,

And I met Robert and Lord Alfred,

Walt and Henry David, Mark (my Sammy) and Charley D.

I was reacquainted with Willy’s wonderful wit and wisdom,

but breathed last at John, dearest, sightless John,

who saw more than I had ever glimpsed:

I had never loved before.

And of course Clive and John Ronny Reuel

Already held my heart, happy imprisonment—

I was dr

opping, plu

mmeting, head-over-he

els and toes-over-nose,



My parents were worried, my peace of mind shattered—

Every thought, every breath, every tingling touch of thick, creamy paper

was a blessing—and a curse—and I found myself, me!

cursing and crying and thanking the stars at 2 am,

reading those last few, blurred words through salty adoration.

It could not be ignored.



“I’m yours,”



I whispered to the green form which promised all my dreams a reality.


“What?” the English major counselor squawked,

“Sorry,” I said, and signed.




key for non english majors: edgar allen poe, william faulkner, joseph conrad, robert browning, alfred lord tennyson, walt whitman, henry david thoreau, mark twain (samuel clemens), charles dickens, william shakespeare, John Milton, C. S. lewis and J. r.r. tolkien.


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GF Ninja

The group around me ambles into the dimly-lit, richly-furnished room without a second thought—but I am immediately on guard.

I am ever vigilant, utilizing all senses to take in every detail:

busy, uniformed staff (whose smiles I meet with a steely glare),

savory smells (which I resist instinctively, habit honed by fatal experience),

seemingly immaculate tables (I check for crumb residue),

friendly voices and laughter (which will be silenced in a moment)…

I am a gluten-free ninja.

Walking into a restaurant with celiac disease is like traversing a mine field while riding an elephant. Hidden dangers beset the GF diner at every turn, and the menacing scene is made even more dangerous by the ignorant deception perpetuated by inexperienced cooks, chefs, waiters and waitresses, hosts, bus boys and even fellow diners.

“How about this place? It looks good,” my blind date, dinner group, girl’s-night-out-posse, boss or extended family member asks naively.

HA! I squelch a shout of laughter and my instinctive “good if you like pain” reply.

Even the bland exterior screams danger:

Ø no GF logo on the front window (the UK's universal wheat-free signal),

Ø popular, neon-lit logo above the door (indicative of a malicious chain restaurant),

Ø music with an accordion (turn and run!),

Ø a name that has any word that reminds you of your piano classes (forte, piano, bravo, ---isimo)

Ø a waiting line (sure sign of harried waiters).

Unfortunately, even when I go to dinner with supposedly experienced buddies—life-long friends, family members, beloved boyfriend—I sometimes get stuck with a perilous restaurant choice. When dining out, I have to get creative, crafty, observant, diplomatic, and even sneaky. I’m on a mission to eat.

This (terrifying) trip, the oblivious (but adorable) boyfriend wanders off while I’m still marking a perimeter around our table, checking the salt shaker for crumbs and scrutinizing sauce labels.

He returns with 'secret intelligences',

"Dia? Oh, there you are, under the tablecloth. Hey, guess what, I already asked them what foods have flour. They said you can have pretty much the whole menu and the whole buffet! Isn't that great?"

I lose my ninja cool for just a moment, smacking my head with my hand (not his head—I resisted) as I rolled my eyes (these actions not recommended simultaneously if a ninja wishes to retain single vision acuity).

Well, even Jackie Chan gets stuck with the dumb blond sometimes.

"Ssssssshhhhh!" I hiss. "Get low, and be quiet.”

It’s too late—he’s already blown my cover.

Our waitress bustles over, offering menus and appetizers all around. She’s either brave, masochistic or cruel to agree to come to our table, as she’s been pre-warned (and dealing with the cross-examination of a gluten-free ninja is hardly for the faint-hearted). I resist the depression urges which are served alongside the fluffy white dinner rolls (and the sneaking desire to start flinging them, shuriken style, at our fellow diners enjoying seven-layer lasagna or garlic bread), and look for the least dangerous thing on the menu as I try to convert the waitress to my side.

“Gluten. No, not glucose. No, not just in bread—it’s in white bread too, yes.”

The menu is a breeding ground of malevolent meal choices. Obvious traps, of course, include the sandwiches, rolls, wraps and croutons and cake, cookies and brownie options, but more subtle evils lurk quietly between the lines. Breading, seasonings and sauces strike without warning, and cross-contamination while cooking is a constant threat (only truly avoided when the waitress is also your significant other or mother).

After I’ve begged, bullied, bribed and beseeched our waitress for gluten-free options, she goes to “ask the chef” (coffee/smoke/look-up-glucose-on-Wikipedia break). As soon as she leaves, I commence cross-examination with every staff member in the area, take a mental survey of other diners’ plates and their possible gluten-free options, and undertake part four of the “Dessert Storm” plan beta. I check for nutritional information behind the front desk and then on my laptop online. I write a detailed list of menu items in order of increasing risk and potential hidden hazards. I remind myself that a gluten-free ninja is always prepared with travel snacks in her purse, so I will not starve.

Finally I get to order, off the (surprise!!) gluten-free menu! I can’t complain: when my grilled, stuffed chicken breast (“ask for no stuffing, dressing, breading, sauce, rice, beans, vegetables, chips or seasoning”) and loaded baked potato (“ask for no topping”) finally come, I chew through them with all the gusto of a soldier downing his hundredth M.R.E.. A ninja never complains, however, and I am honestly just relieved to be eating something that seems safe—although CONSTANT VIGILANCE is, of course, still necessary (as is evident when she hands me a packet of oyster crackers… Thanks, lady, that puts me at ease).

At the end of the meal, I order a delectable dessert (“ask for no brownie, no sauce, no cookie-dough, no happiness, no enjoyment and no hope”) consisting of a single mint leaf on a plate and sit back to watch my date finish his dinner, having escaped successfully from mortal danger (until the after dinner mint at the front desk on our way out).

When he finishes, he sits back too, and looks at me contentedly—offering a truly perfect conclusion to the meal:

“Wasn’t that relaxing? I love a meal away from the kitchen. Check please!”

Reality Check:

To make sure you have a fun (if not calm) experience as a GF ninja at restaurants, eat before, know your allergens, bring a good attitude and your own condiments and have the diplomacy skills of a UN delegate.

Defense of Anniversaries

Though it may seem quite silly

to write a short ditty

on the merits of anniversAries,

there's a serious purpose

to this eye-rolling circus--

yes, I know some think quite the contrary.

Most boys just don't get it

why that one day should merit

such ridiculous hype and elation,

but a gal has her reasons!

and when her guy can't sees-ems,

she'll expound without (much) altercation.

It's that special day's advent

which reminds us we may'nt

treat our sweethearts or lovers like old news,

Yes, we should do without it--

but as all will soon admit,

Daily life only teaches to abuse.

All high-minded ambition

tossed aside as tuition

or rent, food and diapers pile higher,

And before we turn 'round,

we'll find that we've drowned

in quotidian--put out the fire.

In short: the perfect advance

of a practical romance

is a reminder that we really care,

So try to remember

that-some-day in... December?

Just think of it, men, as a dare.

.

Couldn't-Be-Easier GF Truffles

Melt together:
Half a jar of peanut butter
A bag of chocolate chips

Stir in a container of whipped cream.
Let it set in the fridge for three hours.

Scoop out of the mixture with a melon ball thing.
Roll the balls in powdered sugar and place on wax paper.

Stick the tray back in the fridge.

That's all, folks!

Restaurant in Denver!

Tokyo Joe's is a fast, healthy restaurant with a neat envirornment and very knowledgable, friendly service. The food is fine; not for those who like Americanized Chinese, as it is very lean and green. Menu includes "make your own bowl" with rice, meat and veggie choices, lettuce wraps and various other usual Chinese fare.

It is also VERY gluten-free friendly; they offer GF soy sauce AND teriaki sauce and even offered to cook my tofu separately to keep it wheat-free.

I can't TELL you how exciting it is to get to eat a sauce on something when going out to eat! YAY!

Identification, Please

Cami and Tasha dropped me off at the airport on Friday morning reaaa--aaaally early. I rather worriedly handed them the keys to Bertha ("Road trip! road trip!" Tasha was singing under her breath as she offered a guileless smile and "Have fun!") and made my way into the deserted airport.

Seriously, I was pretty much THE ONLY PERSON THERE. I weaved my way through the security tape feeling pretty stupid because there was NO ONE in line. I considered the technique Shrek employed when walking up to Prince Farquad's castle (through the tape, instead of around)--but the security guard was already giving me the evil eye.

I offered him my best smile and toss of the blond curls as I handed him my ticket and driver's license. He was not amused.

"Is your name Diondra or Dia?"
"Ohhh, Dia is my nickname!" I giggled back.

"Well, your ticket here says Dia Darcey on it, so you're going to have to produce some ID that HAS that name on it, or I can't let you on the flight."
"Uh....huh?" I tried the hair toss again.
He was stone. "Not gonna cut it, honey."

Dang, I gotta think fast! None of my IDs have DIA on them; it's practically a made up name!! However, Mrs. Sabey, the generous purchaser of my ticket, had unknowingly put my pseudonym down in my flight information, so now I was stuck.

"Well, handsome, let me see what I have here," I said with a slow wink as I opened my purse and stared into it in a blind panic.

My mind was working furiously and, as it tends to do in emergency situations, completely nonsensically: Maybe I could hit him over the head with the purse and make a break for it! No, a better plan would be to loudly require my legal counsel. Or try to convince him I don't speak English--Ooo, wait, that I'm a long lost LOVER who doesn't speak English! OK, um, fake a heart attack! Warn of an impending stampede!

Just when I was on the brink of a breakthrough ("I know! Confuse him with a tap dance routine!") my eye fell upon salvation: my BYU ID!! Goodness knows why I decided to bring it to Colorado or why I put my name on it as DIA in the first place, but praise be! There it was, and I pulled it out with a screech of pure victory, "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!"

The security guard dropped his keys.

"Ooops, sorry," I practically yelled, still exulting, "but I FOUND ONE!" I slapped it on his security stand with all the triumph I could muster.

He looked it over carefully.
And his steely eyes shifted back up to mine.

"I need another one."

My jaw hit the floor; no, no. Surely not. ANOTHER ONE?!

I tried one last act of diplomacy and laughed gently, "Wait, seriously. You need another ID BESIDES this one-- this one, which says my name on it AND has a matching picture?" I formed a contented smile onto my face and attempted to breath normally.

"...Yup, if the names are different, I have to confirm with two IDs, not just one."

That's it. I was DONE with the "pretty, naive, possibly-Scandinavian traveling girl" charade.

This was war.

We faced each other, still the only two souls in the whole airport atrium.
A tumbleweed blew past and I swear I could hear a faint echo of the theme from "The Good, the Bad and the Ugly" from some forgotten airport speaker.
I stared into his dark, emotionless eyes and felt for the comforting, cold metal of my wallet (my wallet really is metal, you guys).

His eyebrow twitched.

I drew, faster than the eye can follow, and twitched my wallet open with a thumb. I scanned the names on my cards as they flew by like the jet plane I should've been on: Oklahoma Central Credit Union: Diondra Elizabeth Darcey--Healthcare: Diondra E Darcey--Insurance: Darcey, Diondra--Random Walmart giftcard--Summit County Library: scrawled signature--Red Cross: Diondra E Darcey------wait.
Miss Dia Darcey.

I read it, then read it again, "Miss Dia Darcey... MISS DIA DARCEY?!?!"

VICTORY! I threw the card--the blessed card which had saved me many times before in moments of transportation terror--onto the vanquished security guard's crumpled form and pumped my arms in the air with a howl of animal abandon:

"THANK YOU, TRIPLE A!"

I did have one parting word for my defeated foe, which I offered as I picked up my duffel bag and tossed my hair back over my shoulders, "In this world, there are two types of people, my friend..." I continued Clint's timeless quote as I stepped forward onto the security platform and tossed my bags into the X-ray machine:

"Those with loaded guns, and those who dig."

Unfortunately, THOSE security people took me seriously ("GUN? WHERE?! CODE RED!!!")...



.

O'er the Land of Fat-Free?

Dia Darcey
Dr. Holland
Sociology 112
16 November 2009

Don't take this too seriously, kids; it was a quick opinion essay for a class.


The facts are clear: America is getting wider, and not from sea to shining sea. More Americans are overweight than ever before—a whopping two of three adults and almost one of three children. Overweight people are more likely to suffer from high blood pressure, heart disease, diabetes, high cholesterol and debilitating stress on joints and bones; the condition is definitely no walk in the park.

The obvious, looming question about obesity in America is why. Can we point the finger of blame at the school system for only providing sugary soft drinks and cheesy fried snacks for lunch? Can we malign the government for neglecting to inform us of health risks before it was too late? Or can we only hang our heads in shame, muttering that it must be a late offshoot of McManifest Destiny (now bigger than ever!) and we, like our great-great-great-grandparents, are just trying to increase America’s magnitude? Such a huge problem could never have stemmed from one origin, and it is ignorant to blame a single factor (like fast food) for these shocking statistics. Also, it is impossible to blame only the individual for their obesity because we are so affected by the society around us—and the occurrence of obesity is higher in African-American and Hispanic populations, which would imply that they have less self control than Caucasians or Asians. Several of the most basic causes of the rapid, recent increase in the occurrence of obesity in America are the breakdown of family structure and a general and increasing ignorance of nutrition and biology, exacerbated by a healthy capitalist economy.

The family structure provides innumerable benefits to individuals and society; many of these benefits relate to weight management. Close families spend time together playing—and it’s awfully hard to get an entire family onto a computer. Outside activities and play have decreased exponentially in the lives of children, perhaps because their parents simply don’t have time to encourage creative and active play. Eating together as a family reduces the calories which would be consumed by each member eating individually, especially if the meal is home-made and includes plenty of vegetables and fruits. Family relations also provide needed education to children about healthy eating habits.

The general ignorance of and apathy toward essential nutrition facts has worsened in recent years which has aided the media and food companies in making a couple bucks while everyone gets a little rounder. Even the calorie is not understood by five out of six roommates at Regency #309, and surely the statistics aren’t much better for the rest of America. The “big, bad” media and food companies cannot be blamed for making food cheaper and more attractive—that’s what the competition of capitalism encourages, usually providing us with excellent results—even if they use high fructose corn syrup and celebrity promos to do it. The problem results when these two circumstances combine and ignorant consumers cook Hamburger Helper for a “healthy” family meal or provide “low-cal” (but high everything else) soda for refreshment.

Whether the obesity problem busting America’s Bible Belt and clogging up the Continental Divide lays with society or the individual or, most likely, some combination of the two, it is ballooning to ridiculous proportions. As the occurrence of obesity has increased, the average life expectancy for an American citizen has turned begun to decrease. Only a return to the close relationships of the family and a revolution in nutritional education could even begin to contain this epidemic which is truly affecting everyone in the home of the broad.

Little Girl Dreaming

In morning musings, I’ve agency:
And when my mind runs wild
I can remind it,
Gently, Chiding,
And lead it as I would a child
To things at hand, back
To book or stove or
even prayer,
My hand is patient, waiting kindly,
but firm, as
My little-girl thoughts hang back;
She is rambunctious—as children should be—
But comes when I ask.

In afternoon and ev’n, too
I am mistress of my mind and
Would I were a harder mistress!
Sometimes the child skips outside
Without a hand to stop her—and I must take a run
With her round the yard, falling in a heap at the end in a tangle of limbs, laughing
Before returning
Brushing off smells of the cold and grass
To order, reason, older things.

But nighttime thoughts are hers
And she spends them outside: joyous liberty.
Why?! The now freed child
Can run, rampant, rollicking,
Without reproach
Or reminder
To focus on the task here, now.
And it is beautiful to watch her run.

I’m thankful she stays—well-train’ed dear—
Within the bounds of my picket fence
I’ve built so carefully
At the edges of even unconscious thought.
But I still wake, not shameful,
Exasperated!
For the child is far from satiated from her joyous night of rambling—
No, she wants to explore anew!
And I, woman, must choose to tug her gently
Back into the ordered house.
Though she is pleading and pretty and persuades
So invitingly.

Sew Cute II

These aprons are pretty much the most adorable thing ever--and REVERSIBLE.
Mom and I made them this summer (because... we can't just have a normal vacation??).



We also made:
This . Took. Forever. There's actually still a lot of hand-stitching I have to finish on it...

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