Windy Sydney

When I was in sixth grade, I decided that I wanted nothing more than to be a doctor. I wanted to help people and save lives. The whole thing seemed amazing to me, you would constantly be challenged... learning and adapting to the latest technology. I thought it would be an amazing rush to work in the ER and be able to make a difference somehow.

Right now I am watching a show on ABC called, "Hopkins." It's a reality/documentary series about doctors learning valuable lessons and doing their best to help their patients.

The show covered a premature birth of a baby boy who sadly didn't survive, and a kidney transplant between a husband and wife. The stories are amazing, and at times hard to watch. You wish the best for these people dealing with life threatening injuries and health problems, but you know in your mind that there is no way everyone can be saved. Sometimes there is nothing you can do.

Right after high school, my Dad was diagnosed with cancer. He fought like hell to survive, and he told me on many occasions that he didn't want to die. He was only 44 years old when he took his last breath, and I know for a fact that every doctor and nurse he came in contact with did everything within their power to help him. There was nothing they could do in the end.

When I watched my Dad go through his cancer, I came to the conclusion that there was no way I could ever be a doctor. I would become emotionally attached to my patients (that is a good thing, and a bad thing) and I would take any death hard. Very hard. I couldn't handle it. I know it.

I have nothing but respect for those in the health care industry. They go through tons of schooling, residency, and a lot of trial and error. Even when they do their best to save someone they have to deal with death and suffering on a daily basis. Sure, they end up making good money, but I think that money is well deserved. They sacrifice their personal time to learn how to help people... and lets not forget that most doctors have a hell of a lot of student loans to pay off once they get into practice.

Not sure where this was meant to go... sorry... done now :)
Andee

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I found this link via Neatorama.

To illustrate just how much automated translators still have to go, Philipp Lenssen of Google Blogoscoped used Google and Babelfish to translate Garfield from English to Chinese and then back to English. The results are fantastically non-sensical, and in some cases, probably funnier than what Jim Davis originally drew!

Click on the cartoon for more examples of Garfield Lost In Translation.

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Today I had the opportunity to have a conversation with a self-proclaimed "Jack-Mormon." I have never been a huge fan of that term, myself. I have been called that many times, and it insulted me. Just because I was inactive I had to have some kind of silly title? I am getting off track here... sorry.

Keeley (name changed to protect the innocent) hasn't been in a Mormon chapel in over 6 years. She drinks on occasion, and she is my age (29) and not married. No, neither one of us are lesbians. I have to say that. I do. There are too many people who assume I am into the ladies simply because I am single. It's annoying. I am not insulted by it, but it's just not who I am. Getting off track again. Oops.

Keeley's home was full of church activities growing up. She told me that church wasn't just a Sunday thing... church was discussed every day. There were prayers, meetings, family home evening, scripture study, and the many hours devoted to her parents callings. She remembers sitting at home helping her Mom cut out stuff for a lesson she was giving... lets just say that Keeley was raised by uber-true-believing-Mormon parents that raised their children to be the same.

She feels like she is a disappointment. That pisses me off. She is anything but a disappointment. She is intelligent, kind, and most of all she loves everyone for who they are and not what they believe. I think any parent would be happy to have a kid like that. Call me crazy.

What is it that makes a child a disappointment? Is it because she stopped going to church? Is it because she doesn't believe in the church as much as her parents and siblings? Maybe it's because she wasn't married in the temple like her sisters and brothers, or had children? Is this all her parents wanted for her? What about her happiness? Off track again. Dammit.

During our conversation that lasted about an hour, she proceeded to ask me questions I wasn't sure she wanted the answers to. I warned her first. Once you learn that Joseph Smith married 14 year old girls by threatening them and their families with eternal damnation, you cant go back. You can't. Many have tried. Many have failed. She told me she wanted to know.

This is the first time since my journey started that I felt like I was destroying someone's testimony. I know she probably didn't have a huge testimony, and that she didn't really agree with many of the doctrines and practices, but I knew the information I was about to give her would rock her world. Like the emotional earthquake I wrote about yesterday. I was scared as hell when I figured out all this stuff... did I want to be responsible for someone else going through that kind of pain? Did I want to be the one to make the relationship she had with her parents even more strained?

I voiced my concerns. I was honest with her. I didn't try to convince her that my opinions were right, or that Mormonism was stupid. I just gave her the facts and resources that helped me on my journey.

How is it that a 29 year old woman, who was raised in the church, and been through the temple didn't know about Joseph Smith translating the Book of Mormon with a seer stone in a hat? She was FLOORED. Floored wasn't even the right word. She kept saying, "really?" and "Are you sure about that?"

Yes, really. I am sure. I am sorry.

I didn't even begin to talk about the Book of Abraham. The whole time we discussed Joseph Smith and his life. She didn't know that he had so many wives, or that they were already married to living men. She certainly didn't know that a couple of them were only 14.

I have asked this question so many times on this blog, but I can't let it go...

How can the church think they are a truthful, honest organization while keeping these things from their membership? Lying by omission. It makes my blood boil. How many people have been baptized in the church before hearing the whole story? How many kids go off to missions every year because they believe Joseph Smith was a loving, kind, and honest man? How many? How is that *not* lying?

Keeley is aware that I am posting about the conversation we had. As a matter of fact, she might be reading it... I gave her the link. I wish there was more I could do to help her, because she is in for one hell of a ride.

Andee

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I found this video on Unique Daily. If you have never been there, you are missing out. There are tons of interesting and bizarre things to entertain you.

I think the video is cool.


http://view.break.com/546352 - Watch more free videos

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I am not sure if I have posted this lovely photo before, but it's something I wouldn't mind being mentioned twice.

A co-worker thought it would be a nice idea to order a cake from Wal-Mart to wish her co-worker, Suzanne, a happy future in her new location. Here is how the conversation probably went:

Wal-Mart Baker: What would you like that to say?

Co-worker: Best wishes Suzanne, and then underneath that, We will miss you.

Wal-Mart: Cool Beans.

For more cake disasters, go to this website... Cake Wrecks. It's hilarious and worth your time. Especially this one:

Oh. My. God. What were they thinking?

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What happens to someone when they start questioning the church's truth? In my own personal experience, it's like a giant earthquake. It shakes everything in your life, some stuff breaks, some things can be repaired, and some things will never be the same again.

I felt like a horrible person when I started questioning. I couldn't believe I was questioning the leaders and prophets. It's a place I never thought I would be. I was always the first person to defend the church to my non-Mormon friends. I had always accepted that there were things about the gospel that I couldn't understand. This included things like polygamy and exclusivity of the temple. I just went along with everyone else... "Put those questions on a shelf, Andee. Worry about them later."

I know there were things I didn't understand, but that wasn't due to my lack of trying... believe me. It just never once entered my mind that the church's elders were not giving me the truth or the full story. When I learned about Joseph Smith using a seer stone in a top hat to translate the Book of Mormon, I realized for the first time that they had the opportunity to tell me the truth, but they didn't. It was the first tremor.

I suppose this is why the translation of the Book of Mormon is such a hot topic for me. It's the whole reason I kept questioning. It's what got the ball rolling. It's where I first felt betrayed.

When you start asking questions, your first reaction is guilt. I was taught that the prophets were men who sacrificed for the church. Sure, I heard the phrase, "They are just men," but they were not treated and remembered as "just men." They were remembered for being so much more. I always thought they were good people who would do anything to help someone else. I always thought these were extraordinary men. Men who wouldn't hurt a fly.

I was sadly mistaken.

When I got over the guilt (that happened quickly) I started reading everything I could get my hands on. This is where most of my believing family members and friends jump in and claim that I got all my information from anti-Mormon websites. That is not true. I read through the Journal of Discourses, Discourses of Brigham Young, past and present articles in the Ensign, as well as the New Era... even Friend Magazine. I even felt my jaw drop a couple times on Joseph Smith's own records on the family history website owned by the church. How these sources are anti-Mormon I will never know.

It became clear that the church leaders were purposefully keeping certain things from the members of the church.

Don't get me wrong... I understand why.

If they were honest about it, more people would leave like I did.

It's not something you expect from a former true-believer, but my spare time reading church history has made me more than a little jaded. I have trouble believing anything that comes out of their mouths now. I don't see the church the same way, and I never will again.

So, when a true believer questions, they really don't know who to turn to. If you go to your Mormon family members, you will be looked at as if you have sinned. I know a couple of my family members are convinced I wanted to sin... that I was simply looking for reasons to prove the church false. I really don't know anyone who has done something like that. I am the same law-abiding citizen that I was a year ago. I have no idea what kind of sin they think I am committing, unless you count a severe addiction to Diet Coke.

For the reasons explained above, mainly that your family might just think the worst of you, you might not feel comfortable turning to your loved ones.

Close friends are your next option, but you might have the same problems there as you would with your family. If your close friends don't know how to keep their jappers shut, everyone in the ward will know about it. Suddenly, no one will sit next to you in Sacrament Meeting or other church activities. You are a sinner and they "know" it.

It was a different place for me to be in. I wasn't sure where I could turn or who I could trust.

I finally decided to go to online forums like MAD. I was anonymous there, and I could get questions answered from both sides of the fence. I found most of the people there frank and honest... and most of all, they were not judgmental (unless you count one specific poster who used a photo of the temple as her avatar). I don't know where I would have gone if it wasn't for these online communities.

When I would ask questions, I found myself siding with those who left the church rather than those who wanted to make excuses for the church's behavior. I knew that I couldn't live an authentic life, or be true to myself and still be a member of the church. It was then that I joined PostMormon.org.

I know that support groups like this are often seen as "anti-Mormon" but I have never had anyone try to get me out of the church. I only had honest opinions about doctrine issues, and no pressure in any way. When someone brought up a new topic, I would learn something new... with these new topics came resources that I didn't know existed and links to websites that taught me so much more about the things I was learning. Suddenly the world was different. I didn't have to feel guilty for not wanting to marry and have tons of babies. I was okay the way I was. It was the first time I had felt good about myself and the decisions I had made in a long time.

Emotional earthquakes change everything. You can repair things, you can decide that some things can't be repaired. One thing is for sure... there is a lot of healing that needs to take place.

When people get upset with me for sharing certain things about the church, or the church's history, they assume I am trying to bring the church down and that I won't "leave the church alone." The only thing I can say in response to that is that sharing my journey out of this mind control is healing me... and not only me. It's helping the many friends I have made over the 9 months this website has been up.

I am here for me, I am here for them... and hopefully, I am here for a long time to come.
Andee

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I am a klutz. Let me just put that on the table and own it. It's true, I admit it... not much I can do about it. I guess there is some part of my brain that doesn't register with my limbs when it's most important.

Saturday I was moving some heavy objects around at work, and the large steel cart that I was pulling didn't stop as quickly as I thought it would, and rammed into the back of my foot. Hard. Like, really hard. Hard as in I could have cried real tears and almost did.

One of my co-workers eventually found me sitting on the floor clutching my right ankle as if I had been bitten by a rattlesnake. He told me I was sort of rocking back and forth, and I honestly don't remember. The only thing I could think of during those first few moments was how bad it was, and how much I wished I could go back in time and push the damn cart instead of pull it.

My right ankle is now a beautiful shade of purple. I wrapped it up with an ace bandage, hoping the swelling would go down just a tad... but the only thing it did was make it hurt worse. I ended up going without it and popping 3 or 4 over-the-counter pain pills every 5 hours. It's more than recommended, but damnit... I need 'em. Thats the kind of pain I am in.

Leave it up to me to find a way to hurt myself like this. I have always been the one in my family that got hurt doing the most simple things... like opening windows. When I was in high school, I opened a window and the latch busted... sending the heavy window smack down on three of my five fingers. None of them were broken, but there was no way in the world I would have been able to play in the high school concert. It's a little hard to play the flute and piccolo when your fingers won't bend. It sucked.

On the last day of high school, the day I graduated, my high school had an awards assembly to highlight the scholarships some of the seniors had won. As I stood up from the bleachers to accept my certificate of achievement, I proceeded to trip over my own feet and tumble down the bleachers in front of the entire student body. Gawd. It still makes me cringe.

I am not the only one in the family who has had strange accidents, my brother is also pretty good at this sort of thing.

One Christmas, Santa left me a bike and my brother a scooter. A few months later, as spring arrived, I begged him to let me ride his scooter.

"Please... c'mon..."

I eventually won him over by telling him he could ride my bike. That was a bad idea.

He wasn't used to the handle bar brakes. He was used to the kind of bike where you simply had to pedal backwards to stop motion. I guess he saw something on the road and stopped paying attention to where he was going, and he headed toward a parked boat on the side of the road. By the time his adrenaline kicked in he started pedaling backwards, but of course that instinct wasn't going to help him. He ended up hitting that boat head-on, and the propeller blade went right into his head... deep.

Local doctors immediately put him on a life-flight helicopter to Salt Lake City's Primary Children's Medical Center. He had emergency surgery, and even though the doctors warned us all that he would have lasting mental problems, he turned out just fine. No lasting effects. Pretty amazing, isn't it?

Another time he pretty much turned his ankle into powder while sliding into second base at a little league game. He had to have surgery on that, too. He has more metal in his body than anyone else I have ever met.

Time for more Advil... until tomorrow!
Andee

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About a month ago I ordered this CTL ring off the Internet. It's pretty cool, and I love the conversations it starts. I have actually had the opportunity to point out some of the hypocrisies of my believing Mormon co-workers, and meet other people who feel the way I do.

The other day I was typing something up on the computer, and a co-worker saw the ring. The first thing he said was, "What language is your CTR ring in?" I smirked and told him it was in English. It took him a couple seconds, but then he said, "CTL? Choose... the left? Why would anyone want to choose the left?"

Just because I can.

He then made the comment that "we would all see who was right one day."

I couldn't agree more.

Another of my co-workers had a tizzy-fit about the ring. She thought I was making fun of her religion and threatened to go to Human Relations about it. I simply pointed out that if she asked that I take off my ring, she would also have to take off her CTR ring. After a couple minutes she chilled out and apologized for freaking out.

Fun times.

Andee

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Some of the stuff I say in this post might be hard to read. I say this because I couldn't stop crying when I heard the stories... it's only fair that I give you warning ahead of time. If you don't feel like getting emotional, you might want to stop reading right now.

Yesterday evening, my Mom and I went to Dairy Queen to get some dinner. She is up for a visit and to see her new house (she is going to be living a block from me... how cool is that?). We started talking about how much I spoil my cats, and she told me that she thought it was cool that I cared so much about them. She then had a few stories to share from her childhood... again... let me warn ya, it's not pretty.

When she was a child, she loved animals very much. She still does. She would get emotionally attached quickly, and immediately feel that she needed to protect them. Well... some of them needed protecting.. and no one was there to help.

Turns out, she had a neighbor who would drown all the kittens that the neighbor's cat had instead of getting her cat fixed. I know that spaying and neutering were not as common when Mom was small, but I can't get over how horrible and scared these little creatures were. My heart is breaking right now for them, and their momma-cat. The word cruel doesn't even come close to showing the lack of empathy and compassion required to hurt such small and helpless animals. They were just babies! God!

We then got to talking about how I was a vegetarian for a couple years when I was in high school. I told Mom that the reason I wanted to stop eating meat was because of the way the animals were being treated. Chickens being locked up in cages, stuffed together so they can barely move, and then when it comes time for them to be killed, the process takes an uglier turn. I was told that a machine would take the chicken and slit it's throat. When the chicken died it was dipped into some kind of liquid. Sometimes the slitting of the throat didn't work as it should. These injured chickens were then dumped into liquid, and then died a much slower and painful death than necessary.

I guess I just don't understand how a human being can look into the eyes of an animal and know that there is a soul there. A soul that feels, hurts, becomes scared... loves. How could we as a society let things like this happen? What is stopping us from making sure these animals lived a good life and then were humanely killed? Nothing. Wait... money. Yeah. Money.

It would cost too much money to implement this kind of thing. To have people who inspect food plants just to check for animal cruelty. The businesses would lose some of their profits, and that is the bottom line. It's sick to me that money means more than a living, breathing creature.

Mom went on to tell me some of the other things she saw when she was tiny. My grandfather would cut off the tails of all of his dogs. Why? Just because they wagged their tails? Did it annoy him to have that tail tap against his leg? Why subject an animal to pain like that if it wasn't necessary for their own survival? I just don't get it. What the hell is wrong with these people?

The conversation then turned to hunting. Mom isn't completely against it, but I certainly don't see how hunting is a sport. It's an over-used analogy, but I will say it anyway... The only way hunting could be a sport is to give the animal the same gun that you have.

A long time ago I had a talk with a co-worker of mine in Orlando about hunting. He told me that he had only gone once, and he vowed never to do it again. I asked him why (of course) and he told me that once he shot the deer, he heard it cry.

I know there are people out there who genuinely believe that it's a natural thing to do... and I don't think I would have a problem with it if we really NEEDED their meat to survive. Trouble is, we don't. We have evolved into a society where we can walk down the street and purchase the fruits, vegetables and grains we need to survive. Do you really need that deer meat? Really? No. You would get along quite well without it.

I am going to try and do the vegetarian thing again. I know it's going to be hard, because frankly... I like my meat. I will take a hamburger, or a crispy chicken sandwich from McDonald's and be a happy girl. I just don't think I could take another bite without first realizing that the animal I was eating might have had a horrific life and death.

Sigh.

Until next time...
Andee

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Please correct me if I am wrong (it's possible) but I certainly don't know of another religion besides Mormonism that has private interviews between the local bishop and teenagers at least once per year.

I have mentioned this before, but only randomly... forgive me if it seems as if I am just playing some kind of skipping record. It happens.

Anyway...

I remember having my "worthiness" interview with my local bishop when I was about 15 years old. My parents were both inactive at the time, so when the bishop called me on the phone to invite me for a meeting, my Dad had to drive me to the church and wait for me. I am sure that was pretty awkward for him. I often wonder if anyone asked him questions in the hallway while I was all alone with the creepy bishop...

Oh yeah... I was ALL ALONE with the creepy bishop. My bishop was a real piece of work. I told both my parents what I thought of him. We were always open and honest about that kind of thing. This guy would have no problem going up to the microphone and tell people who to vote for, as a matter of fact, I think it's something he enjoyed doing. He talked a lot about forgiveness and loving thy neighbor, but he certainly didn't practice it much. He would never wave to my parents if he saw them in the neighborhood. Probably because they were smoking and that was a horrible sin. Way to be a good man, huh? The guy was just really judgmental. REALLY.

So my Dad drives me to the church, it was a Tuesday night if I remember correctly... no one was there besides the bishop and my father and I (that I know of). My Dad sat in a chair in the hallway while I went in to face the blubbering bastard. Yeah, I know it's harsh, but it's honest.

Bishie asks me why I miss church every now and then. I countered that my brother and I got rides to church with friends, and my parents drove us when they could, but we only had one car and things needed to get done. If I missed church, it was because I couldn't really help it. Bishie told me that I could call him if I needed a ride, he got all pompous and acted as if there was no real reason to miss church. Ever. I would rather shove razor blades under my toenails that get a ride anywhere with this guy, but I knew I shouldn't tell him that in my worthiness interview.

His questions got more and more personal as they went on. Was I dating? Was I making out with boys? Necking? Was I dressing modestly? Was that ANY of his business? What the hell? This is a conversation I should be having with my parents, not some random guy who things he has authority over me!

I was dating a guy who wasn't a Mormon. It was a big deal to bishie. I never once did anything with my high school boyfriend. We had a very PG-13 relationship... and I mean old-school PG-13... no nudity, no suggestive stuff. We were both good kids. He was a religious guy, just of a different faith. Oh, and he was black. I think that is what got to Bishie the most. Come to think of it, I even remember a time during a high school choir concert where my (then) boyfriend and I sang together in a quartet... bishie was one of the only few people who didn't stop to say something. He just walked right by us.... huh... just remembered that.

Anyway, bishie made some comments about how far I would allow my boyfriend to "go." He knew he went to far with me. He knew it. He stopped right there.

On the way out the door, bishie looks at my Dad in the hall and tells him what a good daughter he had. I was annoyed, because my Dad didn't need some random dude telling him that. He and I had a great relationship, but I guess bishie felt that his opinion of me should mean a lot to him.

Now here is when I go off on a rant... if I haven't done that already.

Why is it that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints requires PRIVATE meetings between bishops and kids? There is a closed door. No one else in the room. Lets remember that the bishop is assuming he has authority over the kid, and the right to ask whatever he wants to.

I have heard horror stories that are much worse than mine. Sometimes bishops would ask specific details of sexual encounters, or imply that any sexual feelings are sinful and of the devil. Each of these thoughts are horrible... you don't need to confess things you have done to any bishop. They are not even trained to handle the problems that might arise when asking these questions. Does the church really feel that the spirit will just tell the bishop what he should do in cases like that? If the bishop makes a horrible mistake will they make excuses for him and say that he was "just a man." That phrase seems to be thrown around when it's most convenient.

*If* bishops, stake presidents, General Authorities, Prophets (and any other type of leader you can think of) are just men, then why do we give them the power to make such huge decisions at their will? If they are just men, shouldn't they have the leadership training necessary to handle stuff like this?

I kind of went off on a tangent there, sorry about that.

For every bad bishop I know there are probably 10 good ones. Most bishops are good men doing what they feel God wants them to do. I get that. I just think that giving a man private time, alone in a room, with a kid, is a little too much. Why do they roll the dice? Why don't they have parents talking to their kids about this stuff? The parents should be doing that anyway... mind did.

Keep in mind that most of these kids were raised in the church. They believe it. They believe that the bishop has the right to ask such personal questions, and most are honest. Should they feel shame to admit that they have thoughts about making out with a fellow teenager? Should they be made to feel that they are wrong? I don't think so. I know that being sexually active is something that shouldn't happen until later in life, but making the kids feel that they are being sinful for something that is completely natural is going to mess them up... for the rest of their life possibly. Why do that? Discuss things like this in a healthy way... thats all.

I guess my rant has gone on long enough. Ta-ta for now...

Andee

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A few years ago my Mom was trying to get temple-worthy to get the family sealed together. She was a full believer at that time, and she was willing to do anything to be right in the eyes of her leaders.

Her bishop (who has since given up his "throne") told her that to be temple worthy she would have to go to a court of love. I am not sure what the whole thing was about, but I can't picture a more loving and caring person than my mother. I am not just saying that... I really mean it. She would do anything for anyone...

So, he calls her in and they do the whole court thing. She can't partake in the sacrament for a couple months as some kind of punishment for her sins. It makes me so mad.

A few months later she stopped going to church, and many months after that she sent in her resignation to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

Fast forward to today.

My Mom is sitting in her office and her ex-bishop (who works for the same company) walks in. My Mom considered this guy a friend, someone to confide in. Someone to talk to. Someone that would never judge her for anything. She was wrong.

He walked into her office, asked her for a form of some kind, and left without saying two freaking words to her. She was sad, mad, angry... you name it.

What nerve!

What the hell is wrong with this guy? He thinks he has the right to call someone into a court of love, judge them, and then treat them like this? I say we call him to our own little court of love. He needs to repent for being a first class asshole.

Gawd.

Andee

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Dr. Laura (not a huge fan of hers) speaks with a church member about his wife leaving the church and his wanting to divorce her. It's classic.

http://inconnu.islug.org/~ink/xm/DrLaura_Exmo_June8.mp3

He just doesn't get it.

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The idea for the article came from a thread on PostMormon.org, written by Crime Dog. Let me just say how much I love Crime Dog, he is smart and funny as hell. He brought up something I had been thinking about since I was a teenager.

I tried to write this in my own words, but I can't do it justice. So, here is the thread written by Crime Dog, as well as some of the comments left by others. I hope they don't mind my using it...

Most western religions basically believe that god is all seeing, all knowing, and infinite in his wisdom and intelligence. Mormonism might outwardly share in that belief, but many of us here at PostMo know differently. While the church teaches that god is infinite in intelligence, we find this is not the case in practice.

The god of Mormonism does not even know who we are.

At least, this is the only explanation I have for the oddity that is the LDS temple ritual. God must not know me from Adam. So to speak. Why else would I need secret handshakes and verbiage to enter heaven? Wouldn't an infinitely wise and intelligent being know exactly who I am, what I've done, and whether or not I am entitle to enter into his presence?

Hey! Crime Dog! What's up? We've been expecting you! C'mon in, my friend!

It follows then, that though I am by definition an apostate, who openly rejects the temple endowment and ordinances, who refutes the teachings of Joseph Smith and the LDS church, and who denies that any of it means anything whatsoever, can still get in to the celestial kingdom! If god doesn't know me anyway, and I know the signs and tokens from my endowment three decades ago, what is to prevent me from walking right through the gates, past the sentinels, and into the presence of god? So, what motivation do I have for enduring to the end? I can do whatever I want.

Oh, and while I'm thinking about it.....how is it that my wife got only a "first name" when she went through the temple? When I call out to her to lift her from the grave and pull her through the veil, aren't all the other women with the same name going to rise up as well? I'll have thousands of women showing up and will have to pick through them to find the right one. Perhaps they should give three unique names, or maybe even go by social security number, to avoid this problem. If my wife will simply recognize my presence, or my voice, why does she need a new name? I should just be able to shout "Yo, babe! You ready?" and she will rise from the grave and come forth.

How true is that? I mean, why in the world would we need secret handshakes, names and what-not to get into heaven? Shouldn't this all seeing God know who should be there? Isn't the whole thing just a little bit off the mark? Here is what others had to say...

CrimeDog's going deep on Duvall Street!

Of course, you know, Elohim is granted omniscient status by Joseph Smith in the King Follet discourse back in I think 1842... But exactly how omniscient is he? Not very... apparantly. Apparantly, part of Elohim's plan for me was to ignore me for years and years granting me feelings no more nor less special or significant than those I felt while watching that stirring movie, The English Patient or reading a moving account of literature (secular type)... and those all too human feelings were supposed to galvanize me into Mormonism.

Or... of course, I got to play, for years, the insidious game of second guessing random thoughts that flowed into my cranium.

Go talk to that Sister or Brother... they need a friend right now

wait, what? hey! was that the Ghost who is also holy telling me to do something or was that just me?

hmmmmmmm

and the temple name assignment is classic cult tactic to reassign the initiate's identity to bind them further to the mother teat. I, for example, as a Mormon really was not Brother Noggin. Well in theory I was Brother Noggin, but in my quiet moments of reflection I was Enoch. Sometimes, when I particularily felt abandoned by the silent God of Mormonism, I would pray long prayers filled with sincere pleadings to that God... it's me, Enoch.. remember me?

Ahh. The reassignment of identity. The Super Special Name that the Mormon God recognized only me by. Doh! Oh the day when I discovered that every other person going through the temple that day, including all of the dead... thousands of them were also Enoch. No wonder Elohim never paid much attention to my "It's me Enoch!! remember?" pleadings. I bet Elohim was all...

Enoch? but...... Which Enoch are you??

Oh but. Consider the lillies of the field see how they toil and spin. A sparrow does not fall without God knowing it's trajectory. Moral of the story: He knows you are falling but still lets you hit the ground and splat messily... even if it means you literally die. LOL.

I mean, what about the hundreds of gay Mormon teens who kill themselves because God made them that way but left them only tortured and inflicted with no way to figure themselves out except a life of denial and hardship. What about the post partum Mormon mothers who struggle so awfully. What about the extremely high levels of depression among the Latter Day Saints. Where is the balm of Gilead? Where is the comfort? Is it part of God's plan that his Elect be drugged up with Prozac? Is Zoloft his modern day Moses miracle? People are hurting and failing. When they leave Mormonism and free themselves finally... why is there such a sense of freedom and relief? Why do post Mormon lives and mental states actually improve in the exodus?

Well, sigh... I fell many times in Mormonism. Always alone. Sometimes very hard.

See those footprints in the sand? Yea, Lord I do see them but there is only one set of footprints...

Oh that's because I was carrying you.

Yeah. Right. No Thanks.

Noggin

Another comment:

And....if the Masons had access to the secret handshakes before the candidates of the CK did what's with that? If getting past the devils of hell require the same secret handshakes that's just weird, and a bad plan, really confusing. The verbage is the only thing that would give the poor souls away. As soon as they start to say wrong thing with thier tokens and signs they would have to get out of line and head for another kingdom, or wherever, how embarrassing would that be?

edit:

I don't want to sound like I think Masons are going to hell, but you get the idea, I hope. -howdimissthat

The whole thing (looking back) seems insane. I don't know how I made sense of it. Just my opinion, of course.

Andee

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You know, I know more Mormons than non-Mormons easy. Some of them are more into the whole culture (yes, culture) than others. For example, some of my friends think nothing of having an ice cold Mountain Dew poured over ice, while others would cringe because that would be breaking their word to follow the word of wisdom. I don't know where caffeine got thrown in there... it started with meat in summer and hot drinks. Who the hell knows...

Anyway...

Now that I am "out of the closet" with my apostate ways, I have received some of the most judgmental and non-loving comments from some of these "friends" and "family." I use the quotation marks because I have a hard time considering someone telling me that I am being led away by Satan a friend or a member of my family. Sorry, it's just how I see it.

They are so convinced they are right. Hell, I have been in their shoes before. I used to think that I was valiant before I was born and that was why I was born into a Mormon family. I even thought that I was going to make God proud of me one day and get married in the temple... even though it wasn't in my heart. I thought I would make the sacrifice... glad I didn't.

I now know that there is no amount of mental gymnastics I could possibly do to make the Mormon Church true. There is no way. There are too many problems, inconsistencies, and out right lies. I was disappointed with the people I trusted to tell me and teach me the truth.

Now, I wonder how let-down they will be when they realize it was all a big lie. I cringe, because I certainly didn't enjoy the feeling. Some of the people I care about have spent their whole lives pushing for the church... tithing, meetings, callings... you name it. They never once turned a calling down, always had their food storage, even went to church while on vacation. How will they feel when they learn the truth?

Those are the people I feel bad for. There are others I don't. I should... but I can't bring myself to... I am talking about the leaders who knowingly spread untruths... cover up... lie by omission. I am sure on some level they believe they are doing this for the greater good. In their heart they must believe that Joseph Smith was a true prophet of God, and that the moral sacrifices they are making in this life will be rewarded in the next.

Don't get me wrong. I believe there are leaders out there who know the whole thing is a scam... it's just really hard to get any pure honesty from these men, so it's hard to tell.

I just wonder what their first thought is when they reach their "heavenly reward" and realize it was all for nothing. They might have kept their parents out of their temple wedding, or stopped talking with an apostate friend or family member... all for nothing. The pain their family and friends felt would be for nothing. How many times can I possibly re-phrase that and use the word "nothing?" Nothing.

I remember watching a movie titled, "Defending Your Life," on HBO one rainy Saturday. I was a teenager at the time, and I was enthralled. I loved the idea of going to a place where you got to review your entire life and explain the decisions you made and the chances you took. You eventually have to prove to the judge that you deserve to go to heaven instead of going back to Earth to learn your lessons all over again. I especially enjoyed the part of the movie where the characters got to eat whatever they wanted and not gain any weight. I hope that happens. I really do :)

What would happen to these holier-than-thou people if they got to their judgment and had to explain why they hurt their family and friends like they did?

Sorry this was nothing more than a rambling post. I was due. Oh, and if you have never seen "Defending Your Life," you are missing out. I wish I had it on DVD right now. I would totally watch it.

Andee

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Late last night I finished reading "Escape," by Carolyn Jessop and Laura Palmer. I knew that I would have a hard time reading the book, and I was right. The tales of abuse and manipulation are unbelievable at times, but you know it's true. She is a true mother. She risked everything for the safety of her children, wanting to give them the life she should have had.

Instead of giving a book review, I decided to just share some of the quotes from the book that stuck with me. I could never do a book like this justice with my own writing.

"One morning Randi [a fellow FLDS girl] got on the bus and was sobbing hysterically. Her face was red and flooded with tears. She was shaking and gasping for breath. Her sobs came like one big wave after another. When she turned around I realized her braid was gone. Her hair was neatly combed, but her braid had been chopped into stubble.

The chatter and noise on the bus stopped, as everyone realized what had happened. All of us were shocked by the awful sight. The bus driver sat there chewing his gum. If he noticed the weeping child who had just gotten on his bus, he didn't show it. The door closed and he pulled away from the curb as if nothing had happened. I felt sick to my stomach. I couldn't even play on the playground that day. Everything went by in a blur.

After school I was waiting in the bus line with Linda [sister] when I saw the school's double doors fly open. The principal of the school came running out, chasing his mentally retarded son, Kendall, who was ten. Kendall was screaming and trying to run away from him. His pants were wet with urine. We could all see the wide circle of dampness. The principal caught up with him and grabbed him. He kicked him so hard that Kendall flew off the ground and landed in a heap on the sidewalk. He yelled at Kendall to get up. Kendall started running away again. The principal kept chasing and kicking him. I was so sickened by what had happened to Randi earlier that day that this overwhelmed me. I could not absorb what I was seeing. In the weeks and months ahead, I would see this again and again. Kendall would wet his pants and his father would beat him. Some of the other children on the playground made fun of Kendall for wetting his pants. Others stood still, shocked to witness a father's brutality and terrified because he was the principal of the school." page 35.

No matter what these kids saw, they couldn't really turn to anyone for comfort. The community had no safe place to turn, especially the kids who were simply property to their fathers.

"At two o'clock one morning I was awakened from the dead of sleep. It was close to the end of the semester and I'd stayed up late studying. I couldn't imagine why my mother was awakening me or why my father would want to speak with me at such an odd hour. Nothing like this had ever happened before.

Dad was waiting for me in my mother's bedroom. My father acted as though everything was normal. "I had the chance to talk to Uncle Roy about you going to college and he told me you were a smart girl and could go to school to be a teacher."

My heart sank. A teacher? I wanted to do pre-med.

But it got worse.

"Uncle Roy said the before you go to school, you should be married. He wants you to marry Merrill Jessop." I was stunned. My future had just vanished. Even if I continued with my education, I'd have to do so while being pregnant and having babies. I also knew that although Uncle Roy had given me permission to go to school, my husband could overrule him in this area because he would be the ultimate authority in my life." pages 72-73

Her dream to be a pediatrician didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was the will of the priesthood holders. Every move she made was watched, and she made no decisions for herself. I have no idea how I would keep my spirit alive.


Carolyn has a sister wife named Barbara. Barbara was not only a huge control freak, but she also had the most power in the house and was extremely abusive to all the children in the home, whether they were her birth children or not. In the cult's way of thinking, all the children belonged to their husband, and raising the children was a duty that belonged to all the wives.

"Eleven months after my wedding, I became pregnant with my first child. I was violently ill for nine months; the morning sickness that some women complain of laid siege on me. I lost weight, looked pale, and felt weaker than I'd imagined possible. I knew that by marrying, I had lost control of my life. With my pregnancy, I lost control over my body as well. I had barely any prenatal care.

Worse, my pregnancy created even more problems for me within Merrill's family. Within the FLDS, any personal problem is seen as a direct result of sin. Serious emotional or physical problems were considered a curse from God. I was also dangerous for a woman to show any incapacitation related to pregnancy because it viewed within her family as a sign of rebellion--unless, of course, you were Barbara, for whom the double standard applied with regard to her crying bouts during her pregnancy.

The other wives would discuss whether or not they thought I was really suffering or just seeking attention. I was accused of putting on a show to gain more status for myself. Producing large numbers of faithful children was a way for a woman to gain favor not only with her husband but with God. It wasn't uncommon for a woman in the community to have as many as sixteen children, and most have had at least twelve." page 147.

These women were at the mercy of their husbands and the prophet of the church. Abuse was everywhere, but there was nowhere to turn. Even the local police officers were members of the FLDS, and stories like this were everywhere:

"...The FLDS police officer wanted to take his wife up to the Steeds ranch to teach her a lesson in obedience. He put her in a pen with a bull and then tied a rope to the neck of the bull. He told his wife, who was pregnant, that she had to control the bull with the rope on orders of her priesthood head.

She tried to hang on to the bull, but he ran off and she ended up being dragged until she let go of the rope. Her husband got into the pen and handed her the rope again and told her she had to hold on. But the bull pulled away from her and her husband became enraged. This time he took the end of the rope and and tied it around the neck of the bull and told her she better hang on this time. But it was impossible. The third time he tied the rope to her so she could not let go. She was dragged around the ring again and so badly injured she lost the baby--which then became her fault because she was so disobedient." page 217.

Carolyn's son, Harrison, was diagnosed with cancer as a baby. Merrill Jessop blamed the sickness on Carolyn's rebellion to his authority. He told her many times that the baby was going to die because she wasn't obedient. He didn't care much for his children, just the power they gave him in the community.

"Harrison is going to die because of your rebellion. It is your fault he is sick. God will take him from you because you have been in rebellion to your priesthood head. You can take him to every damn doctor you can find, but no one will be able to heal him. God is going to destroy his life because of the sins of his mother." page 275.

It even came to the point where she would have to sneak to get her son the medical care he needed. Her mother began to help her by driving them to the hospital when she didn't have access to a vehicle. She never once gave up on her son, and gave him round the clock care to help him.

Soon, Warren Jeffs became prophet, and things like this started happening:

"I never knew what was coming next. One day all the dogs were rounded up and killed. This had a harrowing effect on children who were attached to their pets. Oreo was our family dog, a cute black and white mutt that LuAnne adored. When Merrill heard that the order had gone out to seize the dogs and destroy them he told one of his sons to take Oreo to Page and put him in the pound. This was devastating for my children even though Oreo didn't die. LuAnne was heartbroken. Merrill told the children that the tears were not allowed. They should only be concerned with doing the will of the prophet." page 326

I can't even begin to explain the horrible things that happen to the men and women in the FLDS. The women who went on television during the entire Eldorado, TX debacle telling the world that they loved their lives were no doubt just doing what their priesthood head told them to do. They would be punished if they didn't do as they were told... not to mention that their entire faith depends on obeying their prophet.

There is a similarity between the FLDS and the Mormon Church, as much as the mainstream church claims the opposite. Could you imagine if the church had not stopped the practice of polygamy? What if they had not caved into the pressure? I would be one of those girls who couldn't make decisions for myself. I would be wearing the long underwear, and following the word of Warren Jeffs. It's scary.

I hope I would have had the courage to do what Carolyn Jessop did. I would love to shake her hand.

Andee

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I love getting hate mail. Really, I do.

There is nothing that makes me happier that to sit back and watch people turn into total hypocrites. It's quite amusing.

Here are some of my favorites. The first batch is from the Mormon Temple article I wrote months and months ago. People still read it, and it's by far the reason people are outraged with me and my beliefs... oh, and how dare I share photos of temple garments! What ever am I thinking?

Guess I will burn in hell for sure now!

• I hope that you truly understand and recognize the position that you as a "former LDS member" have put yourself in. Good luck to you
• You obviously don't know anything at all. Your facts are all screwed up, but then again you wouldn't do something as stupid as this if you didn't hold some kind of grudge. Grow up and get over it.
• you just don't get it haven't you ever felt the spirit ever you are horrible
• I absolutely love all of the anti-mormon "facts" that exist out there. So informative, so helpful, and they way they enrich peoples lives is truely honorable. I hope that all of the anti-mormons and on the fence folks out there understand one thing, anyone can manipulate "facts" actually there is a whole profession out there dedicated to it, it's called politics. So you can stop missrepresenting your facts as truth and quit lying to people about the Mormon church, it's unhealthy for you and simply not true. Just because you didn't have the faith it took to get over the things about the church you didn't or more likely couldn't understand doesn't give you the right post our sacred ordinances online. Nothing you say or do will stop the progress of the church, in fact people like you drive investigators to the missionaries doorsteps every day. So I am asking you to end your blog, effective immediately, or I will do some research on windy sydney and start posting all of your missdeeds and the real reasons you left the church, which for everyone else out there is 99% due to sin, ie drug or alcohol abuse, or sexual missdeeds. So this is your opportunity to start making good choices, I will check this blog in 36 hours if I find it, I will begin revealing who you really are to the world. Yes I am a mormon and yes I am far from perfect and yes I will follow through on this. Leave the sacred alone or I will become a thorn to you. Don't believe me, just ask the guy who made the movie God Makers what his life was like after he was revealed to be a lying fraud like you. You have 36 hours from now. Start erasing.
• When I was a missionary I met so many missinformed people just like you. I don't assume anything for one, and in fact doubts are healthy when one wishes to seek truth. Problem is you and every other anti out there do nothing more than twist words and phrases to conform to your views. And then have the audacity to come back with excuses like, "oh you can get a warm fuzzy feeling from this or that", to try and manipulate people into thinking that praying for truth is an invalid way to find it. I'm not going to try and convince you and you sure won't convince me and in reality you have literally no influence on anyone, you are a nobody and will likely remain as such, that said the reason I am taking the time to write this is because you offended God and myself by placing those sacred things online. If I were you I wouldn't be waisting my time writing your thoughtless replies, and start erasing the stuff you have on here, the clock is ticking. 29 hours to go.
• Don't all of you anti-mormon dunnces wish that I were making physical threats. But if you had really understood the first post you would know what I am referring to. In history we learn of the Crusades where Christians and Muslims fought eachother for both Jerusalem and it's Holy relics. My mission here is very much a crusade in it's own right, the difference being that instead of bloody sword fights I will simply just expose you for what you are, a fraud. And since your little buddy eight hour lunch decided to chime in they can consider themselves next. You criticize me for remaining anonymous yet don't give your full names either. And yes Jesus did associate with sinners but again what you anti's forget is that he didn't associate with the Saducees and Pharasees which is what you all are. So as far as my name it's Peter but to make my crusade against anti-mormon hypocrisy complete you may refer to me as The Spear. Not only will I poke holes in your "facts" but I will expose every anti-mormon person on your page. All of them will blame you for their fall. I will begin with you Sydney, next will be eight hour lunch, then Landon, then your australian buddy who defiled the sacred garments, then the so called Pastor. And I will continue down the line until my crusade is finished. Even Jesus had his limit with fools defiling the Sacred, remember the part of the Bible where he used a whip to forcible remove people from the Temple? Probably not, well he did and what I am doing is the same I asked you to not defile the Sacred and instead you decided to mock it even further. So part one of my riddle is this: fact, Christopher Columbus wasn't looking for an alternative spice route to India when he landed in the Americas, so then what was he really looking for? If you can answer that you will begin to see what is fact and what is fiction, you work with fiction not fact yet most people accept it because it's an easier pill to swallow, that doesn't make it fact. I am a fair man you now have 11.5 hours. Start erasing.
• Well, I feel bad for you on the other side. I think it's pretty sad that you have wasted such time on proving a religion wrong with false facts. Maybe you should get a life.
• Wow, you are way off the beaten path, too bad you didn't atleast take the time to tell the truth. I love how you tell half truths and all your buddies take them as complete fact. Do something better with your time.
• Sydney, You grew in the church and yet you never know where you are standing. I truly believed to what anonymous said. And I to myself, know that the Church is true. And someday, this blog that you created will be a standing testimony against you.
• While looking for a picture of the Logan temple I stumbled upon your site by accident. I believe that everyone is entitled to have their own opinions. However, I find it very interesting that ex-LDS members always find it worthwhile to spend massive amounts of time creating websites,etc. focused on trying to destroy others faith. Just because I don't agree with the Catholics or the Jews, I don't criticize or disrespect what they believe. Whether you believe or not, it seems pretty ridiculous to post pictures of people in their garments on a blog. I don't care what you do with it in the future because I won't be visiting this site again, but for your own sake it might be wise to find something better to do with your time.
• Why is it nessicary to post these offensive pictures? aren't you ashamed of yourself?
• you don't deserve polite conversation, Take the damn pictures down.

You might notice a couple of the ones in the middle came from an extreme guy who threatened me and others to the point that we had to get the FBI involved. That was fun. Here are more:

• How sad that you need someone elses research to help you decide about Mormonism.... and how said that you are not well founded in the word of God. Your foundation has not changed... when you blindly followed the Mormon leaders you were putting your trust in the "arm of flesh"... now that you had made your decision based on the research someone else has done, you are still putting your trust in the arm of flesh... You have missed the point.
• I am truly sorry for your lack of faith in the LDS church. There is no question that the church has a very racist background, as do most churchs. Brigham Young and other prophets said a lot of things that are not in accordance to modern day teachings, but that was his opinion of that time, not him speaking as a prophet, as a mouthpiece of God. He said what people wanted to hear of that day. The point is the church is run by imperfect beings, and if you want to find the negative you most certainly will find it, no question. But if you choose to look at the positive you will see that the church is run by some truly wonderful hard working people just trying to do a little good in the world. The best thing I did was to move out of Utah. I didn't gain a testimony until I left and saw how the rest of the world lives. It's a pretty miserable world, it's nice to have a little constant in my life such as the church.
• Its fine that you no longer have a desire to be a member of the mormon church, but why include a post on your blog that makes fun of Pres. Hinckley's death. To many people he was a good man. At one point in your life you also looked up to him. What good does it do to try and soil his name? Try and think back to the time that you first began to question your beliefs in the church. What types of influences did you have around you? How did those influences mold your thinking? Do you really feel better? At this point you will probably say Yes. But what about 10 years down the road? Are those early influences still going to be by your side then?
• Your article is completely ridiculous. Most Mormons won't research further into whether J. Smith used a curtain or a hat while translating because, quite frankly, it's a non-issue. Who cares? And to be honest, having majored in religion I can tell you that Mormons know more about their history, and the Mormon church is more open about their history than anyone. You may not like it and may disagree with it, but at least stop using stupid fallacies in your arguments. It just makes you look incompetent
  

There are people out there who have mastered the fine art of discussion. These people haven't. Sorry if the post was boring, but I really needed the laugh.

Before I go... this has to be my favorite one... EVER!

• are you so bitter about everything because you are overweight?

Andee

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The "Blog" of "Unnecessary" Quotation Marks is one of my favorite new places on the net. Check out some of these photos!!!

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I figured it was about time that I posted about something non-church related. There are times when I wonder if people out there on the net think I am angry and bitter (I am angry, I admit that) at the church simply because it's all I seem to talk about on my blog. Today is different. I just wanted to share some thoughts about my "kids."

Growing up, I was never allowed to have cats. My Dad simply HATED them. Really. He hated cats. I never figured out why, but he claimed it had something to do with the fact that cats are not super-excited to please their owners all the time. Dogs on the other hand, were happy all the time no matter what. I understand why he thought this, but I wish he would have given a little kitten a chance to grow on him!


Roomie and I adopted our first cat, Abbey Road, from a shelter in Orlando, Florida. She was found by a group of kids almost beaten to death on Halloween night. They finally got the little striped kitten to trust them (thank God) and she came out from hiding. The kids took the kitten to a home of a woman who was known to take in strays. She gave the cat some first-aid type care and took her to the vet/shelter the next day.

When we were filling out the paperwork for her adoption, one of the shelter workers told us how she was found and I was floored. I knew right away that I would spoil the hell out of this little critter, and make up for the way she was treated.


I would love to have five minutes alone with the people responsible for hurting her... I would love to have five minutes with anyone who hurts an animal. It's sick, wrong, and shows a severe lack of love and compassion. It's quite obvious animals feel pain, and have souls. Each animal has a personality, likes, and dislikes. How dare people do stuff like that... would they do that to a human? I suppose they might, huh? Scary.


Abbey Road came home with us and she was scared out of her little kitty-cat mind. She immediately ran under our living room sofa, and it took a can of wet food, plenty of kitten milk, and a full hour to get her out. By the end of the night she was napping peacefully on my chest purring away. She learned quickly that we would never, ever, hurt her.


You know, after all the horrible things that happened to her that Halloween night (she was beaten badly) she has no problem being friendly to anyone that comes over for a visit. She is by far the friendliest and sweetest of the cats, and the only reminder of the horrible beating she received is a slight noise she makes when she drinks. She is a spoiled, happy girl.


Spooky Bear was rescued from a cat hoarder in Florida. Something like 65 cats were taken from this lady's home, and most of them were too sick to be adopted out. Spooky had worms, and she was scared to death of humans, but after helping Abbey we were ready to help another kitten.

It took us a long time to come up with a name for Spooky Bear. She was scared out of her mind most of the time, and we even walked slow to make it more comfortable for her. She was "spooked" no matter what. We found ourselves looking for the little dark gray kitten saying, "Where are you little spooky?" and it just stuck. I added the "bear" at the end to give her a proper name like Abbey Road. I am weird like that.



One night I was looking around for Spooky and found her in the corner of my old apartment in Florida, bend almost in half, trying to nurse on herself. I guess she was taken away from her Mom way too soon, and I am still pretty clueless as to what happened to her Momma Cat. Roomie and I did our best to get her to stop trying to nurse on herself like that and she eventually stopped.


Spooky is still spooked, but not nearly as bad. The move to Utah was hard on her because she was so frightened. She loves the new apartment though, it has much more room than she was used to in Orlando. The only thing she carries with her from her previous encounters is how she guards her food. She stands up when she eats, she never sits. Always ready to pounce on a cat that is willing to try and fight her for her dinner. We have to feed her separately from the other two to keep the peace. I think even that is getting better.


Spooky loves to eat paper and plastic, so we have to constantly make sure there are no plastic grocery bags or sheets of paper laying around that she can ingest. She can sit for hours chewing on a grocery bag, I guess she loves the texture or something...

Somehow along the line, Spooky Bear received a nickname. I have no idea how it happened, but I love to call her "noodle."


Buddha Belly was given to me as a gift from my brother. His cat had TONS of kittens, and I just had to take one home. Buddha was scared (they all were) when she came home, and the other two cats were trying to intimidate her. She didn't give a crap. She was so used to her brothers and sisters that she was oblivious to Abbey and Spooky. She just didn't give a damn... she was so small at the time that I worried a little about her.


I have never seen an animal that small take on two full grown cats and not give a crap. She has been a joy ever since the day we brought her home. She LOVES to play... even as a grown cat. She will walk into the living room, find a toy, pick it up with her mouth, drop it in front of you, meow, and paw at it while giving you the cutest sad eyes you have ever seen... EVER. She has us wrapped around her little finger... err... paw?


There you have it. My furry family.
Andee

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