I was exhausted and frustrated when I wrote this post. I don't feel like rereading it or checking the spelling, much less the content, so if you are either my elder brother or my mother, and you don't feel like being offended, don't read the post. Quite simple, you have to admit. It might be rash to publish this, but I have discovered that is important to address our frustrations, and it is important to state them aloud. So, without any further delay, I present to you my collection o' bitching....


Today, in a sense, Bryan gently criticized the vanity from which I felt a need to post a picture of myself. His comment has necessitated a disclaimer, which follows as such:

Firstly: I write primarily for myself and myself alone. Though yes, my blog does serve as means of connection and general description of my state of being to those interested, I ultimately write because I believe in journals; I believe in documentation. My current appearance is, after all, a general description of my state of being. A blog is an extremely effective and easily accessible way to sort and store said information, which, on occasion, includes pictures, and many of the pictures I posted months and months ago now exist solely on my blog; the initial origin of these images have been sucked into infinite cyberspace and the inevitable omnipotence of my messiness. The wisdom of my posting them has therefore been proved, and I will continue to post.

Secondly: I realize that Bryan's criticism stem not from my desire to document but rather from the vain nature of the picture, and I understand why; much of our culture is obsessed with illusions of humility. I, however, am not; I choose to dwell in illusions of absolute and total supremacy instead. Why deny my vanity when I could swim in it? Not only am I the coolest thing since sliced bread, but I am, dare I say it, even cooler than sliced bread. The sun may not revolve around me, but my existence most certainly does. I'm hot and I want y'all to know it.

While I'm arrogantly ranting on about my inescapable coolness, here's another issue for you: my darling elder brother fears that I am making religious mistakes, and also, on a less important note, that I know not the meaning of the words I use. I recently discovered this via the very private letters he sends to mom, that she, in turn, quite tactfully publishes on his blog (are we all detecting the bounteous sarcasm? Good.) I am officially pissed off and will now write an equally insulting and public opinion in retort:

“To whom it may concern,

It has come to my knowledge than quite a few individuals in the golden city of Salt Lake (plus one in Zürich) are worried about the spiritual condition of my eternal soul, and have begun to ponder the possible cause of my total and tragic fall from the straight and narrow path of mormonism. At this time I would like to issue a status quo report regarding my eternal soul and the spiritual condition thereof: I no longer practice mormonism or affiliate myself with the religion because I recently discovered that mormon doctrine is entirely self-refuting. The pity extended by these individuals is insulting because I am, for the first time in my young adult life, happy. I wouldn't dream of having the audacity to ask said individuals to forsake their needless concern and accept my decisions, however, because that would imply that they would have to stop gossiping about me. This would prove to be quite the travesty because if they stop gossiping, after all, they will have nothing left to do but think, which is not an activity condoned by the mormon church or its members. I do not wish discord to completely ravage the livelihood of my mother and my brother, so I have no choice but to smile and nod as they salaciously discuss my downfall. Luckily, I don't give a flying fuck. :)

P.S- If one doubts the capability with which I choose my words, I would advise them to discover the handy concept of a dictionary, and then to use it. You might be pleasantly/unpleasantly surprised- the emotional quality of your discovery is entirely dependent on however you wish to react- and you might even learn a word or two in the process.

Sincerely Yours,
The Prodigal Daughter. “