"she may be naked, but she's not stupid"

Ode to Anneth

2012-01-22T17:07:00.001-07:00

Sometime around 2005, I became roommates with a delightful woman named Annie. We stayed roommates until 2010, when I got married and she graduated and went to grad school. Here we are over the years:

Today is her birthday, and I love her more than words can say. So today's blog entry is an ode to one of the dearest and closest friends I've ever had the privilege of knowing.

27 Things I Love About Annie:

1. She loves Star Trek. (She introduced me to the film Trekkies, which I love.)
2. She's a talented artist. Her notes at school were always covered with doodles and sketches. Now and then in Church, we would do this tandem art thing...I would draw a few things, then she would take my drawing and add or change things, then hand it back to me and I'd do the same. The results were these fun, doodly surrealist drawings.
3. Ny-quil makes her CRAZY. I have never met anyone else as heavily affected by over-the-counter medication as she is.
4. She always ends up losing one sock in her sleep, and just stays that way for hours. Just one sock.
5. She is quick to notice and counter fallacies and flaws in thinking.
6. She has a powerful testimony of the Gospel. She goes to the temple faithfully when she has the opportunity, and I've always admired her for it.
7. It was hilarious for me to wrestle with her. It was like...a mosquito trying to wrestle a...robin. Or other type of bird. Or something.
8. She loves England and European sensibilities in general.
9. She loves food and cooking, and she's got an aptitude for it. She's the best sort of foodie.
10. She has patience and kindness as a listener. I realize now how much more I should have listened...Annie was privy to many unburdenings of my heart over the years, and I love her for it.
11. She knows a lot of great films, and shares them with those she loves. (Cabaret, Lion in Winter, and Arthur come to mind.)
12. She has an impressive vocabulary.
13. Her side of the room was always messy when we were roomies. =) I say that with a heart full of love...it was always organized to herself, and it somehow endeared her to me.
14. She loves of the Beatles.
15. Because there were times when we were hopelessly silly together. (Remember that time we laid on your bed for like an hour, and had a contest to rhyme as many things as possible with the word "allocated" or something like that? If I recall, I won with the word "Acme-crated." Which I totally made up.)
16. She always looks gorgeous without any makeup on.
17. She was always easy-going as a roommate. Even if she had a hard time with something that was going on in the apartment, she never caused or perpetuated drama. She's far too mature for that.
18. She is brave. She takes big leaps of faith now and then that take more bravery than most people realize.
19. She's Oregonian through and through. Her heart belongs in Portland,
20. She's super-smart. She's got a Master's Degree. Did you know that? That she received from the University of Kent in Canterbury, England.
21. She knows the art of listening to music. There were a few times when we turned off all the lights and just laid in the middle of the floor and listened to the Beatles. It was awesome.
22. She shares my sense of humor in a lot of ways. If something bizarre or funny happened to me, I knew I could come home and tell Annie about it, and she would laugh and appreciate it.
23. She has a delightful propensity for creating band names. We worked at Wal-mart together for one summer, in the warehouse, and between laundry detergent scents and toilet paper brands, we came up with some pretty awesome band names. (Abrasive Angel being the most memorable.)
24. She has an endearing need to rely on "instant replay" in her brain to correctly hear things. It was something I only knew about her later in our friendship, but she has an ear problem that sometimes affects her hearing. And it's endearing.
25. She is a very talented poet. She's only shared a few of her poems with me, but all of them are lovely.
26. She has a great sense of style. We shared a closet for years, and by the time our paths diverged, I couldn't remember which clothes were hers and which were mine. I loved sharing a closet with Annie.
27. She is open-minded. She seeks truth and beauty and embraces it wherever she finds it. She still sticks to her standards and principles, but truth or beauty don't have to look a certain way for her to love it.

27 Favorite Things Annie Has Said:

1. Annie: Mmm...brisket.
Kathleen: Jews.
Annie: Right now?
(a misunderstanding, probably due to that ear problem I mentioned...)

2. On toddler rebellion during potty-training:
"Screw this! I feel like...going in my pants. I'm going to burn my inner thighs with urine!"

3. "It ruffled her. Like a feather-duster. Only larger. And made of skin."

4. "What?! Someone doesn't want to be spoon-fed to me?! My universe is crumbling!"

5. "You're all made of cheese."

6. "I have such confidence in Captain Pickard. Really. If I was in a crisis, and Patrick Stewart walked in, I would feel better."

7. Annie: That was weird, because I could only hear out of one ear.
Liz: What happened to your other ear?
Annie: It went on vacation.
Liz: The GREENLAND!
Annie: Where they cut off your ears if they don't like your face.
Liz: Or if you're a whore.
Annie: It's barbaric.
Liz: But, hey, it's home.

8. "All right! So you found a pocket! You're not Magellan!"

9. "Night night, Lizwhit! Iron your...WAFFLE FACE! I am high. Ny-high. Love, Annie." --Note left for me (with illustrations) while Annie had a cold

10. "What kind of conceited person names their butt-cheeks?"

11. Question: If you could sleep with two people simultaneously, who would you choose?
Roommate: I don't think Alex Kapranos and Hugh Laurie would go together very well. That would be disastrous.
Annie: That would be like having a sandwich on sourdough AND cinnamon bread.

12. "Peacocks also sound like this. (pause) Well, I'm not gonna scream, but that's what they sound like."

13. "The poor Jews! They can't even get universal credit for being persecuted."

14. "I was just wiping off the table, because the water and the wood, they make ugly babies."

15. "Relocation without notification is like taxation without representation!"

16. "You are adorable! Are you on drugs? Why are you so cute?"

17. "Jesse, your face looks like wrapping paper after Christmas morning."

18. "That is such a cute outfit! You look like a cute...pregnant...sailor...summer!"

19. "I could never live in a place where the buildings are PINK."

20. "Wow, Sarah. You're awesome. I'm going to make out with you later. But not for real."

21. "Where is my freaking DeNiro, you harlots!?"
(as misunderstood by Liz)

22. "That dinner was exactly what I needed! Salad and MEAT! I feel like I just ate a crowbar!"

23. "I'm so black that my black is a noun."

24. (While watching Hugh Laurie in an episode of House)
Annie: Aw, put your glasses back on.
Liz: And grow your hair out.
Annie: And take your shirt off.

25. "You should climb a tree! For...wicked monkey school!"
(an attempt to say about 4 things at once)

26. "Oh, you and your breasts."

27. "Why would anyone be a Congressman if they could FLY?"

Dear Annie,

On your birthday, I have this to say:

Let the pedestrians run clumsily along the puddles

and the water runs along the street like a river.

And it's not clear to the passersby on this bad weather-ish day,

why I am so happy.

I play on the accordion in front of the passersby in sight.

Unfortunately, birthday is only once a year.

A wizard will fly in suddenly in a light blue helicopter

and for free will show movies.

He will congratulate with the day of birth and probably will give me

as a present, five hundred eskimo pies.

(That's a Russian birthday song. Beckah shared it with me once. Thought you'd appreciate it.

I miss you every single day, and love you dearly.)

We interrupt our scheduled programming to bring you this important message:

2012-01-18T13:28:00.001-07:00

UPDATE: As of Friday, January 20, Congress has shelved SOPA and PIPA until changes can be made that protect the free knowledge base. Thanks for your voices. (Democracy really works.)

~~Only 6 days until Congress votes.~~

~~Take a moment today to tell Congress that the global knowledge base should remain free to all.~~

~~Click here to notify your local representative.~~

On the cast list being posted

2012-01-14T23:19:00.000-07:00

I made it.

I'm Lotty. In Enchanted April.

And it's kind of...a lead. Or it least it feels more like a "lead role" than any other role I've ever played. I've been in several dozen productions, and I'm often the mom, the comic relief, the quirky friend, etc. I had a few leads towards the end of high school, but there, I was a big fish in a small pond. (I hope that doesn't sound snobby...I feel the opposite. I'm saying I was only seen as talented because of my surroundings, not based on whether or not I was a very developed actor. I feel like I'm just digging myself deeper here...you know what I mean.)

But for my last semester of classes on BYU-Idaho's campus, I have the incredible opportunity to play this amazing role in this beautiful play, with incredible people. (My husband being one of them...he was cast as, well, as Lotty's husband. I'm serious. We get to be husband and wife in the play.)

I'm still processing this, I think.

On waiting for the call-back/cast list to be posted

2012-01-12T00:11:00.002-07:00

At this point in the audition process, my inner monologue looks like this:

"You're a terrible actress, Liz. That was a rotten audition. You could have done so many things so much better."

"Wait. Don't be so hard on yourself. You're a fantastic actress! You're amazing onstage! You're probably even already IN THE SHOW. You don't have anything to worry about."

"Wait. Don't get cocky. Assuming you're already cast is never a good place to be. Your audition wasn't perfect. You could have done so many things so much better. You're a terrible actress, actually."

"Wait. Don't be so hard on yourself..."

Etc.

I'll let you know when the list is up.

image via onebigphoto.com

UPDATE: Made call-backs. Feel like I did well. Cast list to be posted tomorrow.

Highlight of the day

2012-01-09T20:37:00.002-07:00

When I said something that included the phrase "knocked out" and Jacob said "Knocked out...K-O!" and then launched into a 9-minute explanation of a Pokemon game he once had, and its epic, high-stakes conclusion.

A Convenient Truth

2012-01-02T22:42:00.000-07:00

Sometime soon, I'll write about our move...after I'm done unpacking and cleaning and decorating and starting school and practicing a monologue and budgeting for the semester and all that. Maybe. But look! This was the weather last week:

I know that looks cold, but remember how this is REXBURG? At the end of DECEMBER?!

For those who don't know this, Rexburg's average December temperatures are, according to Weather.com, highs around 29 degrees and lows around 13 degrees. Fahrenheit.

Know how much snow is on the ground right now? At this very minute? Maybe 2 inches. (Okay, so that may be a problem for local farmers, but ya win some, ya lose some, right? Right, guys?)

Apparently, all this glorious warmth is caused by a weather phenomenon called La Nina. Someone told me that recently. I looked it up on Wikipedia, but couldn't figure out WHAT they were talking about and concluded that I didn't care. All I care about is the fact that I wore shorts last week. Which means that:

(Oh yeah, and I'm still messing about with Photoshop nowadays...)

December changes

2011-12-26T19:19:00.000-07:00

Well, one week from today, we'll be moving into our new apartment.

It's truly bittersweet -- we've loved living in Rexburg West. We spent the first year and a half of our marriage there. We spent the first 6 months of that with Carrie and Scott as our neighbors. The Taits have been our neighbors this whole time, too. We've worked in the Primary in our ward for the whole year and a half that we've lived there. Part of me is thrilled to be moving, but a corner of my heart is DREADING it.

PROS TO MOVING
- Cheaper rent
- Funky little apartment
- Closer to EVERYTHING (walking distance to: campus, Great Harvest, Teton Thai, cheap theatre, College Avenue Deli, Cocoa Bean Cupcake Cafe, Wells Fargo, Porter's, Plasma Center, Sammy's, Mike's Music)
- Back on College Avenue, which has got a whole load of sentimental value already
- Neighbors with my new friend Danielle

CONS TO MOVING
- No longer neighbors with the Taits (or my sister, who just moved into the complex)
- No longer in our ward

And those two cons alone almost outweigh all the pros. But it's the right thing for us to do. And it's not like we're moving across the country, or the state, or even too far across town. We're moving, like, 6 blocks. It just feels more dramatic because we live in Rexburg and it's our first move as a married couple.

In the meantime, we're here in Utah, jamming on the guitar with Jacob's extended family, planning a visit with our beloved Carrie and Scott, sneezing (the people we're staying with have cats, which make me sneeze), and trying to find a movie theatre that's playing "My Week With Marilyn." Which I'm DYING to see, but neither Rexburg nor Idaho Falls is showing it.

Enjoy your post-Christmas activities, everyone! I'm going to eat more pumpkin pie and watch documentaries. Maybe do a puzzle or two.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

image via Pinterest

(Pinterest is a black hole and I'm nearing the edges of its gravitational power.)

Now that school is out...

2011-12-19T16:30:00.002-07:00

(UPDATE: Links have been added to the post below this one...the one wherein I recommend several documentaries.)

...Jacob and I have been doing the following:
Playing guitar (Jacob)
Watching movies (both of us)
and learning how to use Photoshop more awesomely (me)

Wanna see? I've been learning how to use gradients.

Fun, right? My favorites are the Buddy Holly one and the Beatles one. And the one of Jacob dressed all crazy isn't bad either.

(Also, I hope no one is offended by that last one. A friend and I were joking lovingly about Oregon once and he said that. I thought it was a hilariously accurate portrayal of Oregon. I love Oregon with my whole heart. Although I don't necessarily advocate smoking pot. I'm all for supporting lesbians, though.)

Documentaries! Documentaries! Keep your brain alive over Christmas break!

2011-12-16T16:21:00.004-07:00

UPDATE: Links to each documentary have been added! Just click on the title!

I know just about everyone's brains are TIRED at this point, but hear me out. I've discovered something AMAZING this last year, and you deserve to hear about it.

Topdocumentaryfilms.com. Free streaming of HUNDREDS of documentaries. You can't download 'em, and most of the videos are links from the actual companies' youtube channels. You can search. You can browse. You can make your brain jump for joy.

If you're not sold yet, here are a few things I've watched recently:

The Medici: Godfathers of the Renaissance
Before there was Michael Corleone, there was Cosmo de Medici. He and his family may have operated an enormous mafia racket back in the 1500s in Italy (or, ahem, "banking business"), but they were also patrons of Boticelli (who changed painting to be fantasy-based), Brunelleschi (who invented linear perspective), and a young man with a chisel in his hand named Michelangelo Buonarroti. Oh, and they "produced" four Popes, too.

Titanic's Achilles' Heel
Did you know that in the Senate Investigation of the White Star Line, the record states that the Titanic went down intact? The majority of eye-witnesses swore she sank in one piece. We're learning that James Cameron's famous description of how the Titanic sank might be completely incorrect.

Modern Masters
I've just started this series, but I watched the hour-long special on Andy Warhol, and I was fascinated. Just about every single thing that happened in graphic design and pop art (and experimental film and the look of rock music) can be traced back to this blond child of Slovakian immigrants. Did you know someone tried to murder him once? Crazy. I'm excited to watch the rest of the series.

Clever Monkeys
First of all, it's narrated by David Attenborough, so you really can't go wrong. Second of all, monkeys are crazy smart. People say language is one of the things that separate us from apes, but some apes seem to actually speak other monkey species' languages! And they use tools. And it's cute.

Marie Antoinette: The Last Queen of France
I read a fictional autobiography of Marie Antoinette this past summer, and have been fascinated by this woman ever since. The poor woman was the ultimate victim of the press, I think, and a figure deserving of more pity than we give her. (Incidentally, most people know Marie Antoinette only for saying "Let them eat cake" and for being beheaded. Only one of those things actually happened.)

The Truth About Killer Dinosaurs
Um, do I even NEED to sell you on this one? Scientists using fossils and math to figure out just how deadly a T-rex or Triceratops actually was? Oh, still not convinced? That steel T-rex skull on the cover is recreated from actual fossils. It's life-size. They feed it cow bones. (Why are you even still reading? Go watch it!) Oh, and Bill Oddie is delightful.

I WAS going to start decorating for Christmas...

2011-12-14T09:48:00.000-07:00

...but we're moving into an apartment above the Cocoa Bean on January 1st. $80 cheaper rent, and back on good ole College Ave.

I decided today, as I was walking through the freezing snow and wind, that the extra $80 will be spent on a daily hot chocolate from the Cocoa Bean.

The alternative to counting sheep

2011-12-01T10:26:00.002-07:00

Jacob and I spent last night playing improv games. I guess that's a little bit misleading, because really we were just laying in bed and playing wit games, but it was really fun. And there were quite a few gems.

Exhibit A:

Patron: Waiter, there's an elementary school principal in my soup.
Waiter: Oh, that's where we put academic honesty!

Patron: Waiter, there's a volleyball in my soup.
Waiter: Someone must have spiked it.

Patron: Waiter, there's a volleyball in my soup.
Waiter: Tom will be so sad!

185 storks walk into a bar. Bartender says "We don't serve your kind here." Storks say "Oh, that's okay, we just needed a leg up."

185 storks walk into a bar, and then everyone had a baby.

185 lamps walk into a bar. Bartender says "We don't serve shady characters like you around here!"

185 lamps walk into a bar. Bartender says "Get your own oil...the bridegroom already came."

Aaaaand my absolute favorite of the night:
185 foolish virgins walk into a bar. Bartender says "You're awfully purdy, come here and give me a kiss." Foolish virgins say "No! You'll get pregnant!"

(Jacob and I wondered if these would still be funny in the morning.

Yep. Still funny.)

Life with the Chapmans

2011-11-29T10:10:00.000-07:00

Ever wondered what an average day in the Chapman Home is like? Pictures speak a thousand words. (So here's daily life in 4,000 words...)

Oh, and here's Thanksgiving in 5,000 words:

There was lots of music.

Work in progress

2011-11-22T17:49:00.001-07:00

I'm almost done with the first draft. One day, I'll hand a printed copy to my mom, who keeps reminding me that this MUST be written.

There's still a lot of work to do, but this ROCKIN' cover and perfect title for my little Kirby memoir, is great motivation to finish.

(The title is from the "Kirby song" we sang as an office to get us pumped every morning. "Up in my head, down in my feet, deep in my heart, I got the whole Kirby spirit!")

Quirks of evolution

2011-11-18T13:49:00.001-07:00

The other night, as I was watching a documentary called "Clever Monkeys" (narrated by David Attenborough of course), I was introduced to one of the weirdest looking creatures on the planet today.

Really. It's really weird. Wanna see it?

Scroll down. I dare ya.

TA DA!!!

This is a proboscis monkey. Or the "long-nosed monkey," as its also known. And I think it might be my new favorite animal. I'm not sure, though.

It's kind of like a car crash. Part of you wants to look away, and the other part of you can't help your fixation, you know? When I showed this picture to my sister-in-law Laura, she said "I don't know whether I want to cuddle it or drop an anvil on its head."

Anyway, they're endangered, and they live in Borneo, and only the males have those weirdly large noses. Here's another picture for you.

I mean, doesn't this guy look like a muppet? Or an old man? Or a muppet of an old man? Several people noted that this guy is "The Jimmy Durante of Monkeys."

Here's another picture. This is "Zoolander Proboscis Monkey."

"What? I'm a proboscis monkey, biotch! Don't hate me 'cause I'm beautiful!"

(Okay, that might have gone a little too far. But it seemed the appropriate caption to this photo.)

The thing I can't figure out is WHY they have those huge noses. What evolutionary purpose could they serve? Since only the males have them, are they some sort of...wooing display? Like, "Look at me and my large nose. I would make a good mate!" (That's as far as I'm going with that...I don't think I could continue without feeling uncomfortable.) Or are there foods in Borneo that demand a keen sense of smell to be found?

I can't think of any truly plausible reason that nature would select for this nose.

I have a hard time believing it's real. I've concluded, however, that the proboscis monkey must belong in the same genus as these guys:

Squidward, from "Spongebob Squarepants," and

the Blobfish.

(The Blobfish is a real creature, by the way. I know that picture doesn't look real, but it is. According to Wikipedia, the blobfish "is a deep sea fish of the family Psychrolutidae. Inhabiting the deep waters off the coasts of mainland Australia and Tasmania, it is rarely seen by humans. Blobfish live at depths between 600-1200 meters or 1968-3937 feet where the pressure is several dozen times higher than at sea level, which would likely make gas bladders inefficient for maintaining buoyancy. Instead, the flesh of the blobfish is primarily a gelatinous mass with a density slightly less than water; this allows the fish to float above the sea floor without expending energy on swimming. Its relative lack of muscle is not a disadvantage as it primarily swallows edible matter that floats in front of it. Blobfish eat invertebrates like crabs and sea pens." Yeah. It's "primarily a gelatinous mass.")

Oh, and proboscis monkeys tend to have large "beer-bellies" too.

"Ain't this glamorous!?"

2011-11-08T17:28:00.000-07:00

Acting is usually billed as a glamorous profession. Red carpets, Dior gowns, cool drinks and personal assistants. And while that is part of the life for the 2% of the world’s actors who can demand six figures for every project, the majority of the time, acting is probably the LEAST glamorous job in the world.

Here’s what acting actually is:

Acting is wearing a spandex full-body suit for two hours while scales are being painted onto it. And then not moving while it dries.

It is putting on a wig-cap (which makes everyone look like a transvestite, regardless of their sexual/gender identity), then having bobby pins lodged deep into your skull for several hours.

It is wearing a gown made of three layers of upholstery fabric under 50 brightly focused lights.

It is saying the same words hundreds of times, and trying to make them sound new every time.

It is changing your clothes (and occasionally your entire identity) in less than 45 seconds, either in a darkened corner with three pairs of hands gropingly assisting you, or else while running through the restaurant below the theatre.

It is spending 20 – 30 hours per week (that’s a part-time job, people) for two months in order to receive 30 seconds of applause.

It is standing outside in the dead of winter in a light coat and being told not to shiver.

It is being told to stop what you’re doing every two minutes or less, for five to six hours a night, for one long long long week.

It is a non-lubricated condom pulled over a mic-pack worn around your waist under your costume, with a mic thread pulled through your hair and taped onto your face with medical tape.

It is having a rib popped out of place by someone falling on you, and going on with the show anyways.

It is cleaning blood out of the inside of your character shoes.

It is being told, sometimes even by those that love you, either directly or indirectly, that your contributions to the world are not worthwhile and do not matter, regardless of how life-changing your experiences in that theatre have been.

It is bruised elbows, hyper-extended knees, ripped off fingernails, dislocated toes, and pulled muscles.

It is not getting home until midnight for weeks.

It is finding Ben Nye makeup (which I’m pretty sure is a combination of pottery clay and Crisco) in your eyebrows a week after a show has closed. (And fighting the zits from that makeup for months after the show has closed.)

It is having your hair wrapped in plastic wrap, straws stuck up your nose, a garbage bag put over your shoulders, and strips of plaster laid over your face. (And again, being told to not move while it dries.)

It is singing and dancing for six hours straight, six nights a week, in 103-degree weather.

It is looking into the eyes of one person some night, and knowing that you made some difference in their life. Maybe they learned something, maybe they felt something…something in their face tells you that you did something meaningful.

I’ve been in somewhere around 30 productions now. I’ve done tech for another 10 or so. (Tech is two hours of boredom interspersed with five minutes of sheer panic.) Every one of those things I mentioned up there I’ve personally experienced. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I don’t mean for this to sound like bragging or anything, I’m just trying to share what I love.

I guess all I really have to say is that those who stick with acting DON’T do it for the glamour.

Least Festive Halloween Ever

2011-11-01T14:01:00.002-07:00

Between designing sound for one show, and starring in it, and running sound for another show, and working 15 hours a week, and going to school full-time, there simply wasn’t time or emotional energy to get excited about Halloween this year. No costumes, no jack-o-lanterns, no candy, no parties. No nothing. Kinda lame.

But here’s the thing. Last night I was filled with gratitude to just sit at home with my husband and not have to be ANYWHERE. We’ve been basking in the free time we’ve had the last two nights. Sunday, we got into bed around 7 and stayed there until we fell asleep around midnight, with only a break or two to get dinner (Rocky Road ice cream and Great Value peanut butter cups). Jacob read a J.R.R. Tolkien story aloud and then we made out.

If that all sounds perfect, it was.

Last night, we went out to dinner, and then I shaved my legs, soaked my feet, and read “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” while eating chocolates. The whole evening was rather Holly Golightly, actually. (Except for the part when I fell on my face while weather-proofing our bedroom window. Not so Holly Golightly.)

So Happy Halloween, I guess. In the future, the Chapmans will be more festive. But this year, sitting in the living room, listening to Jacob play the guitar while I read and wrote, was the perfect Halloween.

Two Wolves

2011-10-26T21:20:00.000-07:00

A man once told his son, "Within each of us, there are two wolves: one good and one evil. They are constantly battling, fighting to be the dominant one."

His son replied, "But, father. Which one wins?"

The man smiled at his son and answered, "That's easy. Whichever one you feed."

Jules and Seve Come to Visit, or "Baby Simon Goes on a Roadtrip"

2011-10-23T19:54:00.000-07:00

Here's the weekend in pictures. Our good friends Jules and Seve came to visit, and they brought their newest family member, sweet Simon.

Here he is, surprised by mortality, as usual.

Simon spent the weekend:

Being cared for by Mom and Dad. (That's a syringe in Seve's mouth. In case you couldn't tell.)

Thinking deep thoughts with Jacob.

Meeting Uncle Jerry.

Being a tiny hipster.

Looking this concerned at least 80% of the time.

And occasionally looking downright terrified. (We can't get over this picture. For any readers who may be concerned about the cause of this face, it was poop. When you've only had a working digestive system for three weeks or so, poop can be pretty alarming.)

But most of the weekend was spent cuddling.

Or being cuddled, as the case may be.

Is it obvious that I'm excited for us to have one of our own someday?
Because I'm pretty excited to be a mom someday.

SCI 207 Homework

2011-10-13T16:56:00.005-07:00

(UPDATE: Yeah, I totally turned this in. And got full credit. In fact, the teacher liked it so much that when he handed the assignments back, he had me read it out loud to the class. Ha ha!)

The Assignment:

Observe the rock in the Geology hallway display case. Record your observations, then come up with the rock's history based on your observations.

The Rock:

The Rock's History, according to me:

Once upon a time there was a very large and often hungry monster named Lithovore Jones. Lithovore Jones was what modern bloggers would now call a “foodie.” He loved eating more than he loved sunning his tail on rocks or singing hopscotch songs, and all monsters love these things a lot. His favorite foods were plants and seafood. The only problem was that Lithovore Jones always ate too fast.

After going out to dinner with other monsters one night, Lithovore Jones grimaced and said, “I love eating, but I always get a stomach ache afterwards!”

“Maybe if you didn’t eat so fast, Lithovore Jones,” his friends kindly hinted.

Lithovore Jones sighed. “But I just love food so much! I can’t get enough of it. Tonight’s clam-bake was delicious.”

His monster friends agreed. “The barnacle appetizers are superb at this restaurant,” one said. “Oh, and the oysters! Divine!” said another. “I’m a fan of the Unidentifiable Material Horseshoe Dessert myself,” said another. Everyone nodded their heads in agreement.

Lithovore Jones’ stomach gurgled, and he sighed again. “If only there was something I could do to aid digestion!”

Suddenly, another monster stepped out of the alley. She had a long mane of matted orange hair, and it was filled with shells and beads and bits of bone. She was carrying a small leather pouch.

“Pssst,” she said. “Hey Lithovore.”

“Me?” said Lithovore Jones.

“Yeah you, sonny. I’ve got something here to cure your ills!” The strange monster held out the leather pouch, and Lithovore Jones peered inside.

“It’s nothing but sand and pebbles!” he said.

“Eat it, and your gastrological ailments will be cured!”

The other monsters looked skeptical, but Lithovore Jones instinctively trusted the monster-witch, and he took the pouch and gulped down its contents. Readers may judge this move overhasty, but they must realize that Lithovore Jones’ stomach really hurt.

For a moment after swallowing the sand and pebbles, nothing happened. Then suddenly, Lithovore Jones felt his stomach lurching and churning. The clams and barnacles and the Unidentifiable Material Horseshoe Dessert were all being tossed around in his stomach like clothes in a dryer. Lithovore Jones felt slightly alarmed.

“Is this supposed to happen?” he asked the strange monster.

She laughed and said, “Yes! Yes! One moment more and the process will be complete!”

Lithovore Jones felt his stomach slowing down, down, down…until finally it stopped. Lithovore Jones belched once and a small stone fell from his mouth.

All the other monsters examined the stone with slightly disgusted fascination. The sand had mixed with Lithovore Jones’ stomach acids to create a sort of cement. And in the cement were all the clams and barnacles and the Unidentifiable Material Horseshoe Dessert. The pebbles churning around with the lump of digested shells had smoothed its edges, leaving it free of jagged edges.

For having just been belched forth from the innards of a large monster, it was a thing of beauty.

When the other monsters finally looked up from the stone, the strange monster-witch was gone. The monsters debated among themselves about what should be done with the shell-filled rock for a few minutes. Finally, Lithovore Jones picked up the stone and put it in his pocket.

“I know exactly what I’ll do with this,” he said, and walked away, thinking fondly of his dear friend Brother Tonks, who would be sure to find a use for the stone in his science courses at BYU-Idaho.

Brief Announcement/Thanks

2011-10-10T22:09:00.000-07:00

Hey everyone.

Remember when I asked all of you to go vote for this guy to be a Cheapster?

Well, pat yourselves on the back, people, because he's

TOTALLY A CHEAPSTER!!!

Thanks to YOUR votes, the man is IN! Like Flynn!
Thank you thank you thank you. All of you rock. More than you know. =)

It begins

2011-10-07T08:55:00.001-07:00

This was yesterday. Today is more of the same. (Like, literally. More.)

I think the saddest part of this picture is the soaked and limp prayer flags. *Sigh*

To be honest, even though I spent all of yesterday blatantly denying the change of weather ("I reject your reality! What are you talking about? It's July!"), I'm actually okay. I'm choosing to be okay.

Here's my theory. Winter is hardest from January on. Because in those early autumn/winter months, there are awesome things to look forward to. My attitude about the weather tends to look like this:

September: "Yay! It's my birthday! And school starts! And it's totally still summer. I can wear sandals around campus and do my homework in the park. I love September."

October: "Meh, the weather's getting cold, but that's okay because it's HALLOWEEN! And the fall leaves ARE pretty...maybe I should just admit that this is pleasant instead of trying to be different from every other blogger ever..."

November: "Brrrr, it's getting cold. But that's okay because it's THANKSGIVING! I love pumpkin pie so much. And turkey. And family. And friends. And gratitude. And I don't mind the snow when I can stay inside for a few days, wearing my pajamas and watching movies with my family and friends and eating awesome things."

December: "Okay, now it's really cold. But that's okay because it's CHRISTMAS! And I love Christmas maybe even more than I love pumpkin pie. I love Christmas music and making gifts for people and the smell of pine needles and having like two weeks to watch movies and eat awesome things. And caroling! And celebrating the birth of the Savior. Christmas is so beautiful."

January: "Well, New Year's was fun. I'm cold."

February: "Valentine's Day? Too commercial. I celebrate love every DAY. Hallmark can't tell ME what to do. I'm cold."

March: "I'm German. Not Irish. I'm cold."

April: "I'm still cold. But I love General Conference."

May: "I'm in Rexburg. And I'm still cold."

June: "At last! My heart leaps with sunshine!"

So I'm choosing to enjoy the weather. Instead of grumping about how fall is "the death of all living things." Because there IS something beautiful about it. I admit it, blogworld. The leaves are beautiful. The crisp air does make me feel alive. I love cuddling up inside my warm house and drinking hot chocolate.

But I won't start talking about boots and sweaters, because they may be nice to LOOK at, but as for me and my house, I prefer to be as nekkid as possible, as often as possible. (AND I'm not stupid...)

Or at least I prefer shorts and a t-shirt to boots and sweaters. Even if said boots and sweaters are adorable.

Reasons to love being an adult

2011-10-02T22:52:00.002-07:00

#1. Driving. I mean, you get to do this as a teenager, so I guess it's not exclusively "grown up." but it still hasn't lost its thrill for me.

#2. Ice cream for dinner. If you want. Or two bowls of tortilla chips. Or a handful of Lindor milk chocolate truffles. Or cold cereal. You can even it it in the living room. On the couch, if you so choose. (I've eaten all of these for dinner. Within the last week. My body feels like CRAP.)

#3. Bedtime whenever the hell you want it to be. You want to go to bed at 9? You can. You want to go to bed at 2:30 in the morning? You can.

#4. You're always tall enough for roller coasters and public pools. (I guess I'm making a slightly discriminatory generalization here. The "average" adult is tall enough. There are exceptions. But the exceptions are still adults.)

#5. You can make out to Nirvana in the living room, and don't have to worry about your parents walking in. (Although when you have kids, you do have to worry about them.)

So maybe this list should be called "Reasons to love being a married adult without kids in college." Because as much as bills and responsibility and insurance sucks, and as "hard as marriage is," and as expensive as college feels (and is), there are definitely some pros to adulthood.

(Oh, and if you haven't done so already, go vote for Scott to be on Cheapster Hopefuls. You just have to click on this link and "like" his picture. You have until October 6th. Every time you don't click this link and could, Sarah Palin steps on a kitten.)

(image via Allie over at hyperboleandahalf. Go read her blog. Seriously. It will change your life. It changed mine. Her treatise on adulthood is way wittier than mine is.)

SHAMELESS PLUG!

2011-09-27T14:11:00.000-07:00

Normally, I don't do stuff like this, and I'm trying not to post 2 days in a row, but THIS IS IMPORTANT.

Remember our awesome friends Carrie and Scott? Scott is TIED FOR 2ND PLACE to be on Cheapster TV and win $10,000 for his wife and baby. I'm serious. But he needs your facebook vote. Go like his picture on Cheapster Hopefuls. See, here's a link. If you don't do it, you have no soul, because it's Scott's birthday and all he wants is for you to like his picture on Cheapster Hopefuls. I'm serious.

Here's a picture of Scott being really happy that you're liking his picture on Cheapster Hopefuls:

After YOU'VE liked his picture, tell everyone you know to do the same. I normally HATE shameless self-promotions like this, but Scott on a TV show would be America's dream come true, and they just had a baby, and he would use the prize money to pay off student loans. So they kinda deserve this.

So why are you still reading? Go like his picture.

Mr. Cornell, ah have tried to be reasonable...

2011-09-26T21:37:00.000-07:00

Dear allergies,

This has GOT to stop. You have GOT to leave me alone. When we first started out together, things were going well, but...okay, I lied. It was never going well. It's time to get the message and hit the road. I've been trying to drop hints for MONTHS now. Allegra, Zyrtec, Claritin, Benadryl, allergenic bedsheets, and air purifiers. I don't know why you haven't tuned in to all this, but I don't know how else I can tell you that I am NOT INTERESTED.

If I have one more allergy attack, I'm cutting off my nose.

Love (or NOT),
Liz

(The title of this blog is a line from the most overdone monologue in the history of contemporary theatre. Star-Spangled Girl. If you ever audition for something, don't use this monologue.)

26 Things to do While 26

2011-09-22T20:39:00.000-07:00

image via weheartit

My dear friend Carrie does this thing every year on her birthday: Things to do while she's a certain age, with 1 thing for every year she is old. That sounded confusing, but I mean she comes up with "25 Things to do While 25," "26 Things to do While 26," etc. (Yeah, that makes much more sense.) Anyway, she's inspired me. So I've come up with my own, even though I'm about a month late. They aren't terribly lofty goals, and many are fairly easy. In fact, a lot of these are things that I've been "meaning to do" over the last few years, and have just never gotten around to. If I put them on a list, I'll HAVE to do them. =)

1. Reach this important goal that doesn't get to be shared with everyone. (Sorry.)

2. Attend a Parson Red Heads show.

3. Read 25 new books.

4. Hike Inspiration Point at Jenny Lake.

5. Learn to cook 5 new things.

6. Finish the current volume of my journal.

7. Go through the temple for 5 family names.

8. Learn to ride a motorcycle bigger than 110 cc’s.

9. Finish writing the first draft (at least) of the “Kirby Novel.”

10. Anonymously pay for a stranger's meal.

11. Get a 3.4 GPA each semester.

12. Give someone a copy of the Book of Mormon.

13. Sleep under the stars.

14. Travel to someplace I've NEVER been before.

15. Go sledding. (This sounds so easy, but I say I'm going to go every year, and have YET to actually go.)

16. Bake a pumpkin pie.

17. Complete the scrapbook for the trip to Germany my family made in high school.

18. Finish the New York City travel diary.

19. Learn Hindi basics...be able to say your standard beginner conversational phrases. ("Hello, how are you?" "Where is the train station?" "It will rain today." You know.)

20. Read 5 Shakespeare plays I haven't read before.

21. Go horseback riding.

22. Sew a skirt for myself.

23. Build an online acting resume.

24. Ride the carousel at Porter Park.

25. Run a mile in under 15 minutes. (I know this sounds pathetic. It is. But running has never been my strongest...thing. It's possible that I have sports-induced asthma, but I'm probably just really really really out of shape. I could put the goal "Get in shape," but I know it's not specific enough for me. The mile in under 15 minutes goal is specific enough and measurable enough for me to accomplish it. Even though I'll still probably get tested for asthma...)

26. Make a painting...a real, on-a-canvas painting, with paint. I've done plenty of artwork in my life, including lots of set painting, but I've never tried just a straight up PAINTING. I'm gonna do acrylics, since I'm most familiar with them, and because I already have a TON. And I'm thinking from a "gridded image"...I'm sure there's an official artistic term for this, but I sure don't know what it is. I'm in the process of brainstorming exactly what to paint. I'm not a huge fan of still lifes, but human figures/faces are a little beyond my training and ability at the moment. I keep coming back to images from the Hubble telescope. CONS: Light. That's hard. Painting luminosity. PROS: Wiggle-room for creativity/mistakes. If I don't paint a face correctly, you'll know it. But if I don't paint a star system correctly, I'll say it's a fantasy world. =)

What are you going to do in this year of your life?

Lessons

2011-09-20T17:16:00.000-07:00

When Jacob was on his mission, his mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. For him, it was sort of a strange experience, because he stayed on his mission, and most of the cancer experience was over by the time he got home. It wasn't as bad as it could be, and Kristi's been in remission for 2 or 3 years now.

I've been thinking about something she said she learned from her cancer, and that was to take things one day at a time. Jacob recently pointed out that I have a tendency to decide an outcome before it happens, and upon reflection, I was startled to discover that he was right. And that I was limiting myself and sorrowing and fearing a lot more than I would be otherwise because of it.

So I want to take things one day at a time. I'm still all for time management...I'll still plan my weeks and make to-do lists when needed. But the big picture demands a surrender to whatever happens. And a joy in that surrender. A "saying yes to your universe" as Jacob and I have begun to say.

I might not be on that cast list. The bills might be higher than we budgeted for. The weather might be colder than I wanted. Trips to see friends might not happen, and people may move away. But in the grand scheme of things, it will be all right.

I'll just take it one day at a time.

Slice of Life

2011-09-17T18:03:00.001-07:00

photo via (Isn't this a cool photo? I love it.)

A few random updates:

School started! We're still settling in, but I think we've got a good semester going. Still waiting on the cast list for "Drowsy Chaperone" (fingers crossed), so the routine isn't quite in place yet. It's hitting me that this is my last school year at BYU-Idaho. This place has been part of my life for so long; it's weird to think it'll be over soon. Although, this year I'm noticing how very young the freshmen look. And I feel like I'm outgrowing things here. Maybe it's time to move on. Graduation 2012, here we go.

I'm playing Caliban in a Children's Theatre/Reader's Theatre adaptation of "The Tempest." It feels good to do a show again, even if I'm playing a man. Slash monster. (Wouldn't be the first time.) Incidentally, "The Tempest" was the very first theatrical production I ever auditioned for. Phoenix High, 1999. I didn't make it, but I did have a huge crush on the guy who played Caliban in that production. I don't think I'll make any freshmen girls swoon with my portrayal, though. I'm also designing the sound for the show, which is exciting.

Jacob and I are watching (in segments) the recent David Tennet production of "Hamlet" and we're loving it. Polonius is a gem in this production. Anyone else seen it? I think we're going to start a collection of film adaptations of Shakespeare plays.

This may be slightly graphic, but I have 2 plantar warts, and I got one of those do-it-yourself-freeze-away things from Walmart, because enough is enough. I used it today and it was one of the most bizarre experiences I've had. I watched/felt my flesh freeze. With chemicals. By my own hand. I'll let you know if it worked.

Aaaaand,
Avast, all ye scurvy bilge rats! A reminder, me hearties! Monday be "International Talk Like A Pirate Day"! Aside from that blustery holiday o' Christmas, it be one o' me favorite holidays o' the year! So, all ye salty dogs and land lubbers, awaken yer inner buccaneer on the morn o' September 19th! YAARRGGGHHH!!!

Blog Stats

2011-09-14T11:31:00.002-07:00

So I recently rediscovered the “Stats” thingy on blogger. I’ve looked at it a few times before, back when I was sort of freaking out about how many new followers I had, but then I worked through that and completely forgot about the “Stats” page. (PS: If you want to check the stats out on your own blog, just go to make a new post and one of the tabs at the top says “Stats.”) Anyway, I’ve made some bizarre discoveries about my blog.

First of all, the most often-viewed entry on my entire blog is this one, in which I reveal the cast list for BYU-Idaho’s production of Macbeth. It has been viewed 1,111 times. Which doesn’t make sense to me because it doesn't strike me as a very interesting blog post. But whatever.

The second most-viewed entry on my blog is one in which I discuss my search for bedding for Jacob and I’s full-size bed. That page has been viewed 937 times. Which DOES make sense to me because I found some really awesome bedding to post about.

And the third most-viewed entry is actually not surprising at all, because it’s a re-posting of a thing called “Date a girl who reads” that I found and fell in love with. And apparently other people fell in love with it too because it’s been viewed 814 times.

Other popular posts include a discussion of the best movie kisses of all time, and a debate about the amount of time BYU-Idaho girls vs. EFY girls put into their appearance, that was intended as a joke but got taken WAY too seriously in BYU-Idaho's newspaper.

But here’s my favorite part. You can see what search keywords have led people to your blog, and how many people searched for that thing and found your blog. Check this out:

comma – 89 (What? I don't understand a - Why someone would search for "comma" and b - How it would lead them to my blog?)

awesome bedding – 50

saruman guitar – 32 (Does anyone have any idea what this means?)

awesome bedspreads – 28

byu idaho – 27

college isn’t the place to go for ideas – 27

she may be naked but she’s not stupid – 27 (See, this one makes sense…)

byu girls nude – 15 (THIS ONE MAKES ME MAD. I feel sort of snobbily righteous –which is an oxymoron – that someone was looking for something dirty and found my blog instead. HA! You wanted porn, and you get intellectual discussions and humorous stories and inspiration instead!)

janis joplin greatest hits – 15 (I don’t quite get this one because I LOVE Janis Joplin, but I don’t remember blogging about her very often…)

and the last one, which is my favorite:
shark bedding – 14

Bam. I like that searches for bedding seem to be my biggest traffic source.

Anyway, I'm kind of really happy that my blog is reaching so many people. It took me awhile to figure out how I felt about it...my little blog that was originally started to update friends and family. I don't have a specific audience of niche (fashion, wedding inspirations, or whatever). I just write about what is on my mind, be it funny or poetic or an attempt at inspiration or an intellectual discussion. And I'm glad it seems to be reaching people. I'm glad to return the favor...so many people have inspired me with their writing, and I'm honored and humbled to have a chance to do the same thing. When I get 300 followers, we'll have some sort of celebration.

Because here's the thing. I love my readers. You guys rock.

I know that for a while now I've been all "Gah what the heck everyone reads my blog and I don't know who I am" and stuff. But I've worked through that. And I'm really glad to have you here. I've been reading through a few popular blogs a lot lately (like hyperbole and a half and seriously so blessed), and I've been inspired by these bloggers. And I've decided to embrace my readership! I'm still not going to link-swap, or do giveaways, or plug my blog all over the internet. But if people find it, and dig it, and follow it, my heart will swell with joy.

So a hearty

to all of you dear readers, whether I know you or not. Keep on rocking the internet world.

On September 11, 2001, I had just turned 16

2011-09-11T19:48:00.001-07:00

(You might want to get a snack. It's a long post.)

image via cnn.com

I've been thinking a lot about 9/11 today. It seems most people have been, so it's a little irrelevant to mention that fact. Still. I've got a lot of thoughts swirling and I'm not sure how to articulate them, but I'm going to try. I'm so wary of cliches, but I'm not sure how to talk about September 11th without using a few. (I'm not that developed of a writer yet.) So if the cliches are present, please forgive me for them.

When we were very small, some of us had the school assignment of interviewing our parents about where they were when President Kennedy was shot, and their experience. A friend recently pointed out that our own children will probably have school assignments asking us the same question about 9/11. Jacob and I teach the 7-year-olds in Primary, and today I was going to ask them what they remembered about that day, before realizing with a jolt that all of it happened 3 years before they were born. I asked them if they knew what was special about today anyway, and most of their parents had told them. But it's something that they'll only ever hear about, and not remember. My sister talks about the "before" and "after" worlds of 9/11. But the children we teach in Sunday School have only ever experienced the "after." They were born into a world of heightened airport security, into a vocabulary that includes "terrorist" and "jihad" and "Taliban." Words that had never entered my own lexicon until my junior year in high school, early in the school year.

The truth is I don't remember many details from that day. My journal entries from that time promise thoughts about the attacks, but a (understandably) juvenile focus on boys and cast lists and self-identity crises replaced the promised descriptions. The entry from September 20th mentions the event, with unsatisfying brevity:

Well, it's been a while since I've written, so you deserve an update! I'm sure when I read this years hence, or when my posterity reads it, they may think of the date September 11, 2001 (or 9-11). Well, on that day, between 8-9 am, 2 United Airlines flights were high-jacked by terrorist groups and crashed into the twin towers of the World Trade Center. Another was flown into the Pentagon, and yet another, supposedly bound for the White House, crashed on-course in Pennsylvania. America has been attacked. (But not defeated.) A brief account for posterity and my own remembrance...BUT, not today (tonight, actually). It's an hour past bed-time and so, it will have to wait till tomorrow.

My words sound so clinical to me now, even callous. But September 11th affected me deeply. When I was little, my parents worried about how sensitive I was...as I grew older, I learned to cope a little bit better, but I was still known to weep at car accidents. I know I wrote a poem about 9/11, cliche and vague, but heartfelt. But I think I never wrote about September 11th because it hurt me. I kept waiting until I was ready to write about it.

It's been 10 years, and I think I'm ready now.

My sister Annalicia woke me up with news about something, but I had been dreaming (about a dinosaur, I remember) and dismissed her 12-year-old rantings and tried to sleep for a few more minutes. But when I came into the living room later, I know the television must have been on, because I remember that I found out what had happened right after I fully woke up. I remember feeling this sense of disconnect between what was happening on the other coast and the daily needs to get ready for school--brushing my teeth and packing my backpack felt insensitive somehow with the news showing what it was showing. Normally, there was this rush to get to the bus stop on time, but I remember that being sort of suspended.

On a normal school day, the available members of my family gathered in the living room to kneel for a prayer before leaving for school/work. We were all there that morning. I remember kneeling together and watching the news, waiting for a moment to mute the television and pray. It was a little before 8:00 am. And as we knelt and watched, the first tower collapsed. My most vivid memory of the entire day was of that moment. My stepmom began to cry the moment the tower began to fall, and said "Oh, Curt! All those people!" I remember that her tears scared me almost as much as what I was seeing.

I was astounded at the sight. I don't think I would have registered it as real if my stepmom hadn't said what she did. It was too surreal...too like the movies. I couldn't comprehend the fact that I was watching people die. It was too big of a thought for me. And even though it's 10 years later, my mind still hasn't grown quite enough to encompass something that big.

I don't remember that school day. I'm sure we must have been watching the news and talking about what was happening/had happened. I remember that over the next few days, teachers made sure we could talk if we needed to. I remember talking about it in Spanish class, and all of us trying to talk about something we couldn't quite grasp, in a language that wasn't our own. I remember my Spanish teacher saying, "Para mi, los imagenes mas inquietante son de las personas que salto de las ventanas." ("For me, the most disturbing images are of the people who jumped from the windows.") I don't remember anything about my family or friends talking about it. I wish I did. I like to think that I stood with my friends in that spot in the courtyard, in front of the choir room, Amanda and Brette and Kristen and Evan and I all crying together. I think we must have.

I could write my thoughts about what I now realize are the political effects of that day. Or about how phrases like "We will never forget" confuse me because I don't see how anyone COULD forget. Or about how I long for the day when people stop wanting revenge and start wanting all of humanity to be blessed. I could reminisce about visiting Ground Zero in 2005. But those things don't seem particularly important tonight. So I'll end with this memory. If there's any moment that captures how I felt during that time, it's this memory.

That year, the Fall Choir Concert became, in part, a 9/11 Tribute. I was in the main Concert Choir, with most of my closest friends. We sang an a cappella song called "The Prayer of the Children" as our tribute song. We all cried the first time we heard the recording of what we were going to sing. It was early October, and we were rehearsing for the show. The school year had just started, but things had sort of begun to settle. Danny Thompson hadn't dropped out yet, and Mrs. Tadema was the new salvation of the Drama Department. Amanda Kerth still had braces, and Kristen Wurtz had just gotten her license and an old orange VW bug, and Evan Way was the love of everyone's life.

That day, choir was almost over, and we were going through all the other songs in our repertoire. Suddenly, for no apparent reason, all the lights went out. After the expected screams and nudges, we sat and waited for the lights to come on, so Mrs. Brock could see her sheet music and accompany us. There was some dim light coming in from the windows in the double doors of the choir room. What happened next sounds like something from a movie, but it was one of those beautiful rare moments when life really does shine that brightly. I don't remember who it was, but someone said, "Hey. Let's sing 'Prayer of the Children.'" Mrs. Brock gave us our starting notes, and we began to sing. And slowly we began to stand up, one by one. I remember taking the hands of the people standing next to me. I remember very dimly seeing the tears on Mrs. Brock's face as she directed us, even though we couldn't see her very well. And I remember the whole thing suddenly hitting me...realizing that this moment was our tribute. Of realizing what it meant to sing those words. Realizing that 40 young voices singing the hurt and the healing and the terror and the hope of a September morning in 2001 was bigger than the tribute concert we were planning or the young poetry we were writing or the talks we were having in Spanish class. I remember the way it didn't matter that we could barely see each other for the darkness, and I remember the fullness of the silence right after we finished.

That's what I remember about September 11th.

Funny words, part whatever

2011-09-07T22:13:00.000-07:00

Before I share quotes, let's talk about this picture for a moment. Because it's currently one of my favorite things that I've ever come across. (I think something was grammatically incorrect in that sentence, but I can't put my finger on what...) I get a lot of blog pictures from a website called weheartit.com, and when I searched "laughter," this was one of the images that came up. And it's full of things that make it awesome.
1. Baby.
2. Camel.
3. The baby is laughing.
4. The camel is laughing.
5. Wind.
How could one go wrong with those elements? One can't.

Anyway, it occurred to me that it's been quite a while since I did a "Recent Quotebook Gems" post. Part of the problem is that I only live with 1 person now, so there aren't as many people around to say funny things, although Jacob carries his weight well in that department. Also, I've just gotten lazy about writing things down. But here are some favorites of the last few months:

"I murdered thousands of babies in my dream last night!" (pause) "Wait. That was supposed to be funny. But I said it wrong." --Liz

"I loved NPH's opening. And I really need to read 'The Normal Heart.' And Norbert Leo Butz has no bones." --Beckah, on the Tony Awards

"Isn't it wonderful to be fat, cousin Waldren?" --Jacob, in an improv game

Jordan: (to his 3-week-old daughter) "You're not old enough yet to appreciate my sense of humor.
Heather: I don't think she'll EVER be old enough for that...

"I guess it doesn't really have a part, does it? It's just...one eternal round." --Jordan Tollman, on Justin Beiber's hair

"His singing was like...a marshmallow on fire. You're like 'This could be awesome, because it's fiery.' But it's still just a marshmallow." --Jacob

"Hint of sodomy in his voice, wouldn't you say, Treacle?" --Jacob/Jordan, in "Godot" rehearsal

Jacob: I have to go to the bathroom!
Liz: You ALWAYS have to go to the bathroom!
Jacob: I have bad contraptions!

"We're theatre people. We're like minotaurs." --Seve

"These stupid babies are always LEARNING things!" --Jacob

Melissa: I know why Jacob's balding! We learned at school. He has too much testosterone. Testosterone causes hair loss.
Liz: Really? So if he takes estrogen, he'll keep his hair?
Melissa: Yeah. He'll also grow breasts.

(addressing his computer, in a low and threatening voice) "Turn on, laptop!" (pause) "If that is your real name..." --Jacob

Liz: What if your baby is so cute that you DIE?!
Carrie: I'm more afraid I'll eat it.

Jacob: (doing homework) Hmmm...subjective complement...
Liz: Subjective thank you.

The Grump

2011-09-06T21:14:00.004-07:00

When I was a kid, and mad about something, my mom would have me go into my room and scream into/hit a pillow. I would do that now, but I fear it would exhaust me.*

Know what SUCKS? Getting your wisdom teeth out.

The stupid thing is that, compared to many others, I’ve actually had a really good experience. No swelling, no infection. No violent illness of any sort.

It’s just that my jaw hurts like HELL, so I have painkillers. But those painkillers make me woozy and sleepy and light-headed. So I can either be in incredible pain, or woozy. Either way, I’m sort of stuck lying around and not doing much. Which would be cool if we lived somewhere other than Rexburg, where there were more things to do.

It's a Catch-22. I start to get stir-crazy and feeling rotten just sitting around the house, so I get up and do things. Which exhaust me and make me feel woozy and unwell. Maybe I should find some moderation or something...

Sorry about the complaining. I’ve been going crazy for days now.

It didn't help that it was Labor Day Weekend and EVERYTHING WAS CLOSED. I’ve sort of exhausted photoshop tutorials and Netflix Instant Viewing. Now that we've made a trip to the library and gotten a few new puzzles, maybe I'll find my rose-colored glasses again. In the meantime, I'm grumpy about the entire situation.

(PS: That is one good thing about this...I'm getting way better at using photoshop. I have time to learn nowadays. And download-able photoshop brushes are AMAZING. I can make neat things like this. Which isn't really anything...it's just me learning how to do a few different things on photoshop. But it's got the potential to BECOME something, yeah? Neat, yeah?)

*This is a method that I'm still a firm believer in, and plan on advising my own kids to use. Gets the little kid aggression out in a physical way without causing damage to persons or feelings.

UPDATE: After a short cry, a good cuddle, an encouraging pep-talk from Jacob, and a good movie, I am doing much better. Sometimes you gotta break down a little before things are looking up again. Thanks for your words of encouragement, dear readers.

Things I'm Looking Forward To

2011-09-05T09:12:00.000-07:00

I feel like I'm blogging a lot. I've written like two more posts that I haven't posted yet, because that's just too many posts. But the library is closed for Labor Day Weekend, and there's not much else to do around here. Anyway, here are things I'm looking forward to:

The library being open.

Getting my books from Amazon.com on Wednesday.

My mouth and I being friends again.

Eating solid and nutritious and fulfilling foods.

My birthday? It's on Thursday. Although given the circumstances, plans are sort of up in the air at the moment. But I still love my birthday.

General Conference. I know that's in October, and that means cold and autumn and all that. But I really love General Conference.

School starting. I know, I'm nerdy. But the current routine is beginning to bore me, and I'm ready for a change of pace. I'm sure I'll regret this in a few weeks, but in the meantime, school/work sounds really awesome to me.

Cuddling with Jacob. Recovering from wisdom tooth extraction, with all its attending drugs and discomforts and side effects, has made me even more cuddly than usual. And lately, all I want to do is let my head find that place between his neck and shoulder and stay there forever.

Which is what I think I'm going to do right now.

Coming out from being under

2011-09-03T20:55:00.001-07:00

So Jacob told me later about some of the things I said and did while waking up from the anesthesia. Here are a handful of them. He keeps regretting not having recorded it. But here are rough ideas of what he remembers. The majority of these things were repeated several times.

The first thing I said when waking up was: "There was a raccoon in the tent! It was trying to get in." (I have two phobias: raccoons and medical procedures. Apparently the presence of one inspired worry about the other.)

Me: Are we in the same room?
Jacob: Yeah. You're just facing a different direction.
(5 minutes later)
Me: Are we in the same room?
Jacob: Did you ask if we're in the same room?
Me: Yeah.
Jacob: Yeah, we're in the same room. You're facing a different direction.
Me: Oh yeah.
(5 minutes later)
Me: Are we in the same room?
(etc.)

Me: My tongue feels big. Is my tongue okay? I don't know if my tongue is there. Can you see my tongue?
Jacob: Yeah, your tongue is there.
Me: I don't want to swallow it.

Me: Am I crazy?
Jacob: Like are you acting weird?
Me: Yeah.
Jacob: Kind of. You know that "David After Dentist" video on youtube? It's like that.
Me: *giggling*

Me: There's a boa constrictor on my arm.
Jacob: That's not a boa constrictor. That's a blood pressure cuff.
Me: (pause) Like at Walmart?
Jacob: Yeah.
Liz: Oh.
(I apparently asked about why my arm hurt several times, and kept having to be reminded that it was the blood pressure cuff. I actually remember saying the boa constrictor thing again later as a joke, but anesthesia makes your timing a little off, and I remember thinking that my delivery wasn't as good as I had envisioned.)

Me: Water? Can I have water? My throat is dry.
Jacob: (trying to help me take a drink from a water bottle, but it was an epic fail and went down my shirt instead of into my entirely numb mouth) I'm sorry. Did you get any that time?
Me: Yeah. On my boobies.
(5 minutes later)
Me: Why are my boobies cold?
Jacob: (explaining the water incident)
Me: Oh yeah.

And the things I said the most often were variations on this speech. I had been pretty terrified, as my previous post explained, and Jacob said I was absolutely blissfully, childishly happy about having survived the ordeal. I kept saying things to this effect:
"I did it! And you helped me! I'm a champion! And you're a champion cause you helped me! I beat it. I kicked it in the balls! I did it. Jacob helped me and Jesus helped me and Jordan helped me, and I'm a champion." (I also named Jacob, Jordan, Jesus, the nurses, the receptionist and Dr. Lee as champions for helping me as well.)

Also, one of these monologues included Jacob saying "Yeah, you did do it!" and me replying "I love you so much and I'm going to have your babies." Another one ended with me saying "You helped me. And you're a champion. And you have great abs."

On "being a champion"

2011-09-02T20:50:00.000-07:00

I had my wisdom teeth removed today. I know that's not a big deal for most people, but I've got a phobia and a half about medical procedures, so this was a big challenge for me. The fact that it turned out well (so far) has been a pretty awesome thing, so I thought I'd share it here...both by way of giving an update, and by way of encouraging any readers who have similar fears. Because you can DO IT! Even if it seems scary and impossible!

Anyway, here's the update e-mail I sent to my family about the experience.

Hello family!

Funny that Dad just sent an e-mail telling you about a surgery that DIDN’T take place, since I’m sending a quick e-mail about a surgery that DID take place! But don’t worry, it was just wisdom tooth extraction.

That’s right. After many years, those babies have finally been taken out. School starts on Sept. 12th, and I’m off Mom’s dental insurance on Sept. 30th, so we decided to bite the bullet while we still could. Which meant that I called the oral surgeon my dentist recommended YESTERDAY, and they scheduled an appointment for TODAY. Which is good because it only gave me about 24 hours to freak myself out. Which I did a decent job of anyway, but I survived!

I was pretty scared…I’ve got a pretty severe phobia of medical procedures still, but I’m using a lot of different techniques to overcome and move forward. I spent about 80% of my thinking time last night/this morning saying to myself “I-can-do-this-I-can-do-this-I-can-do-this.” And every now and then turning to Jacob and saying “I don’t know if I can do this!” But he stuck by me and helped me through, like the encouraging and strong man he is. =) So after a Priesthood blessing with the help of Jordan, and somewhat tearfully explaining to everyone at the office that I would just need to be talked through things, I got an IV with anesthesia, and I DIDN’T PASS OUT, and I DIDN’T THROW UP, and I DIDN’T DIE. And the next thing I knew, I was waking up and my face was numb and my teeth were in a box in Jacob’s pocket. (They’re still there. I think I’ll make a necklace out of them…)

Apparently, coming out of the anesthesia, I kept repeating (or slurring), “I’m a champion! I did it! Jacob helped me, and Jesus helped me, and Jordan helped me, and I did it!” I only remember about half of that. (I also apparently said something about raccoons trying to get into the tent—interesting that another phobia would manifest itself at that moment.)

Anyway, the doctor left me with a few dissolvable stitches, a sheet of post-op instructions, and prescriptions for dexamethason (steroids to keep swelling down), amoxicillin (to avoid infection), and hydrocodone (for pain). And how I am home with a trash can to spit blood into (gross, but I’m trying to avoid swallowing too much), some Gatorade, and movies.

I feel pretty decent…the anesthesia wore off easily, and now I’m just pretty sleepy. And kind of weak. But that’s also because I had to fast for 6 hours before surgery, and now I can’t eat solid things. And my jaw sort of hurts now that it’s not numb, but the drugs take the edge off. Three cheers for modern medicine!

So just wanted to give you all an update. =) Thanks to Mom for helping figure out insurance stuff and giving me words of encouragement, Jacob for helping me through the rough spots, Kristi for helping Jacob bring me home, Jordan for the Priesthood assistance, everyone at the Oral Surgery office for their patience and expertise, God for strengthening my heart, Shakespeare’s Macbeth for helping me get over my fear of blood, Dad for sending me the e-card (even though I still haven't seen it because it's refusing to load), and Dr. Paul Janssen for inventing intraveinous anesthesia.

Love you all!

Liz

Technological Red Tape

2011-08-30T12:14:00.001-07:00

Today, I:

1. Tried to budget for the coming semester by accessing Jacob's student account to see his financial aid information. The site refused to load the financial aid awards page.

2. Tried to plan for the coming semester by checking my student schedule on MY student account. The page refused to load.

3. Decided to give up and clean the house, and went to Netflix online to put on a documentary to watch/listen to while I cleaned. And for some reason, the account has been put on hold.

4. Thought to call/text my sister about the Netflix account, before realizing that my cell phone is in a box on its way to Oregon to be swapped for a new one.

I was going to go make myself some food to comfort my frustrated soul, but I fear none of the kitchen appliances will cooperate.

Speaking of things being worth it...

2011-08-27T20:43:00.000-07:00

Remember this post?

Well, today I got my copy of Irreantum. That's a literary magazine published by the Association of Mormon letters. You can buy a copy online, but mine was complimentary. Why, you ask? BECAUSE THEY PUBLISHED ONE OF MY POEMS IN IT! =)

Jacob and I happened to have a bottle of sparkling cider handy, so out it came in celebration. Jacob drank his entire glass at once, which caused his eyes to water and his voice to crack as he grinned and attempted to yell "Good for you!" afterwards. Which was hilarious and made us laugh for a good two minutes. Maybe you had to be there. But for the record, laughing hysterically after drinking a lot of sparkling cider is a sort of uncomfortable experience.

But it was worth it.

Rexburg is warmer than California?!

2011-08-25T10:46:00.002-07:00

That's true. It is. At least it was during the week we were in the Bay Area. But we're back! It was a wonderful trip, and it FLEW by...I think it was the busiest, most packed trip to California I've ever experienced.

Here are some of my favorite moments (in no particular order):

- Driving out to Bodega Dunes with Beckah and Jacob, listening to the Punch Brothers and Regina Spektor (and of course, the B-52's...classic Whittaker road trip music)
- Hiking to the beach (which took forever) with Beckah and Jacob after setting up camp (which included running down sand dunes) at Bodega Dunes (which also, incidentally, took forever to get to)
- Beckah and Jacob attempting to roll a log into the ocean, which task Jacob took up with more life-endangering fervor after Beckah had moved on to something else
- "Stalking" mom at the beach, which included sneaking behind logs and driftwood and drawing strategy maps in the sand, and ended with us storming her with war-like yells as she serenely looked over the ocean
- Watching the "French" monkeys (they're called francois somethings) at the SF zoo...playful and acrobatic things
- Beckah eating a See's peanut butter truffle after I had dropped it on the dirty downtown San Francisco sidewalk, despite my warnings that she would probably get a disease and die
- Kissing Jacob while standing inside a giant redwood in Muir Woods
- Hiking our butts off in Muir Woods (we bought new butts later)
- Jacob and I jamming Beatles and oldies with Ray and Mom (Jacob - guitar, Ray - bass, Mom and me - percussion and vocals)
- Eating wurst (brats) outside and listening to the Wolff family talk (and occasionally argue) in English and German
- Playing (and watching family play) frisbee on the beach
- Wandering downtown SF with Jacob and Beckah after the zoo, even though everything was closed and it was sort of freezing

And here are some of my favorite pictures (in no particular order):

(Have I mentioned how much I love our camera? There are also some wonderful ones of Mom and Beckah and I, but I'm going to edit 'em before sharing 'em.) Anyway, until next time, CA. Now I'm off to sleep for a week and have my wisdom teeth extracted.

Flowers in our hair

2011-08-14T16:41:00.001-07:00

To Pack:

- Camping tent
- Sleeping bags
- Clothes for a week (don't forget pajamas...I always forget pajamas)
- Good book or two
- GPS
- Chargers (cell phone, gps, ipod)
- Beatles sheet music
- Wallet
- Plane tickets
- Cell phone
- iPod
- Camera
- Toiletries/meds
- Tanning oil
- Swimsuit
- Towel
- Snacks
- Sunglasses
- A sense of adventure

See you in a week!

He will always be a summer love

2011-08-12T11:51:00.000-07:00

I'm in love with summer. And with Jacob. We've been spending a lot of time outdoors lately, because in the summer, anything that CAN be done outdoors SHOULD be.

This is us at Beaverdick Park (I know), on the 4th of July. We're looking at the water right beneath the dock. That's one of the things I love about Jacob. He shares my curiosity about the world, and is willing to look slightly ridiculous to figure things out. I'm grateful to spend several dozen more summers with this man.

Twenty six years is a lotta livin

2011-08-09T17:52:00.002-07:00

It's my birthday in one month. I was going to post my "birthday wish list" on here for friends and family to see, and it had things like this one skirt I've wanted and a book of paintings. But I had to think long and hard to come up with those things, and they're things I can definitely live without. So here's what I want instead. A weekend with some of my dearest friends.

I have been blessed with an incredible group of friends, friends who are more like family than anything else. I've known some of them for a good five or six or seven years now, and we've been through everything from car accidents to weddings together. Our individual journeys have taken us from Idaho to Oregon to England to California and back again. We don't see each other as often as we used to, but we're close enough to be able to pick up where we left off.

One of these friends had an idea that's been percolating for a while now...spending a weekend together at the Oregon Coast at the end of the summer. And although it, like the skirt and book of art, is something I could probably live without, it's all I want for my birthday.

So that's what I'm asking for. Because we can't afford it on our own, unless we sell something like our car, in which case, we won't have a way to get there. Or back. So there's a button up on my blog. It says "DONATE." And if you can't donate, or if you don't care, or if you feel weird, don't do it. I'll still love you, and will still write blogs to make you smile. =) But if you were planning on getting me a birthday present, take that money and send it to my paypal account instead.

I've never done anything like this before, and ethically, with my new readership, I'm not sure how I feel about it. But it's worth it to me to give it a go.

"If you can't drive with a broken back, at least you can polish the fenders." --Billy Joel

2011-08-03T14:37:00.001-07:00

My back has been killing me off and on for about four months. This was disheartening, because I've always been blessed with a good back...never "thrown it out," never had spine problems. It's never been a very flexible back, but it's always been strong. I worked in the warehouse at Walmart with no problems, lifting all sorts of heavy things.

Anyway, my back started hurting again earlier this week, a steady dull ache that neither massage nor heat nor Aleve would lessen. The ache increased until it was worse than I'd ever experienced in my back...sudden movements brought tears to my eyes and sneezing made me swear in pain. This morning, I decided something had to be done.

I've never been to a chiropractor before. In the first place, I've never really needed one, and in the second place, that thing they do, when they swing your head around backwards to fix your neck or something? That scares me.

But I was willing to brave the skeletal torture if it would bring some sort of relief. I found a chiropractor in town with a great initial exam fee and good student rates (Align Your Health Chiropractic...good deal) and made an appointment.

When I went in, the nice lady took my paperwork and led me into a room with a long cushioned table. We shall call this table The Great Obscene Undulator. There were a few knobs and switches on the side, and I felt like Frankenstein's monster for a moment as I laid down. The lady explained that the table would massage and loosen up my back a little bit, so I could just relax. Then she threw the switch and left.

Now, the machine I was laying on "massaged and loosened up my back" by forcing me to do MTV-esque body rolls. It would move up and down my back, from my neck to my bum. (I'm trying to figure out a way to make this clear without being able to demonstrate it...words are failing me. If what I'm saying doesn't make sense, watch this. This is what the machine was making me do.) But it wasn't one long body roll over and over...it was lots of small ones as the machine moved up and down my back. So I was doing "body rolls" with my shoulders, and then my stomach, and then my pelvis, and then my stomach, and shoulders, etc. I felt ridiculous. But it really did loosen me up a little bit. (If they had a disco ball and alcohol, who knows how loosened up their patients would get...)

Anyway, the doctor came in and took me to another table. I mentioned that I'd never been to a chiropractor before and I wasn't quite sure what to expect, and he said there was nothing to be nervous about and had me lay on my stomach. He began pressing on various spots on my back in a medical, investigative way, asking me about the nature and duration of my pain. Our conversation went something like this:

Dr: So you've been having this pain since May?
Me: Yeah, off and on. But it's been at its worst the last couple of days.
Dr: Have you had any trauma...a fall or banging your back into something?
Me: No, not really. Back in May I was in a play where I put a lot of strain on my back, falling and carrying heavy luggage.
Dr: Because it feels like you've popped a rib out of your spine, and you've got a lot of tension in the--
Me: Excuse me, what did you say I've done?
Dr: Popped a rib out of your spine.
(long pause)
Me: That sounds...terrifying. Do ribs normally...do that?
Dr: (laughing) They can. It's really not terrifying. We've just got to pop it back into place.

And then he did. And it was painful. But not as painful as sitting around with the pain has been. He massaged my neck a little, and re-aligned that, and then had me sit up while he, with a life-size spine replica, explained exactly what was going on in my aching back. And now I'm going to explain it to you, because 1) I want your pity and 2) the human body is crazy and interesting.

Apparently, your ribs aren't somehow deeply inserted into your spinal cord like I'd always assumed. They're held in place by muscles and ligaments. Occasionally, sudden strain or a fall can cause a rib to sort of "come loose" from its mooring. It doesn't necessarily pop OUT of your back like I was originally envisioning (I haven't been wandering around with a stray bone poking out of my flesh or something). It falls "down," sort of against the rib below it, smooshing the muscles and nerves that are supposed to separate the two ribs. The popped out rib also causes a lot of strain on the muscle that was holding it up before, and the muscle starts spasming in an effort to "pull" the rib back into place. But the muscle isn't quite strong enough, so the rib stays in its fallen position until someone manually pops it back into place.

But here's the other thing. The doctor explained that if you go in to get it fixed within a week or two of it happening, the muscles are still pretty strong and able to "hold" the rib in place again. But if it happened a while ago, the muscle that has been trying to hold the rib up and pull it back into place just gives up, and starts to atrophy. So you can pop the rib back into place, but it will probably pop back out in the next few days, and you have to go back. And then it will pop out again, and you have to go back. And so forth, until the muscle is strong enough to hold the rib up on its own.

And given the fact that this injury originally came about in MAY, that latter situation is MY situation. I'm pretty impressed with myself for having gone three months with a RIB POPPED OUT OF PLACE, though. Hooray for a few more weeks of pain.

Anyway, I was told not to do anything that would twist my back in any way and to come back on Friday.

You never realize how much you twist your back in an average day until you're told not to.

Speaking of facing fears...

2011-08-01T17:02:00.000-07:00

I received my first two rejection slips from poetry publishers today. Funny they should come on the same day. I ran into the spare room and opened them by myself, and after reading them, allowed myself one full minute to relish the sweet bitterness of rejection.

And then I threw both slips in the recycling and got back to writing.

I'm officially a REAL writer now.

The things you would do if you weren't afraid

2011-07-31T11:55:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking a lot about fear lately. Jacob and I both recently read a book called Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway, which in many ways is as cheesy as it sounds, but there ain't nothing wrong with a little cheese now and then. It's caused both Jacob and I to sort of re-evaluate. I feel like most of the things in the book were things that I had learned before, and had believed and lived by, but for some reason had forgotten. Things like the power of "positive self-talk," and not allowing yourself to be trapped by "what if's."

So yesterday I started thinking about "all the things I would do if I wasn't afraid."

I would open my heart more fully to everyone around me.

I would be a better friend...I would call more, write more, and visit more.

I would chase bigger dreams.

I would travel more.

I would paint more.

I would get involved in more things that I'm passionate about.

And a lot more.

But as I was thinking about these things, I realized that for a lot of them, the ONLY thing that's holding me back is fear. Some I started to say "I don't have the money," or "I don't have the time," but even those are just excuses...I'm afraid of making a financial decision that will make my friends and family judge me for a fool. I'm afraid of using my time "unwisely."

I came to realize years ago that it really doesn't matter what anyone in the world thinks of you. Only what God thinks of you, and what you think of you. It sounds selfish at first, and it's hard to let go of the opinions of others---especially those others whom you care the most about. But it's really not selfish...it's freeing. Selfishness traps you in always choosing what you do and say based on how others will react towards you. When you decide that it doesn't matter what others think of you, you are free to love them and serve them without worrying about what they might think. One of the things the fear book talked about was the idea that "the less you need someone's approval, the more you are able to love them." And if you care what God thinks about you, then you will treat people around you kindly, including yourself. Sometimes, we misinterpret the principles of sacrifice and God's commandment to love others and exclude ourselves from that love. And it takes awhile to figure out what God desires for you, but ultimately, I believe that He is a loving parent, who wants happiness for us, and shows us what we can do to obtain happiness.

And I don't believe He wants us to be afraid. I don't think He wants us to limit ourselves with fears about ourselves, our futures, about what others may think.

So what are you afraid of? Even if the worst possible thing happens, you'll probably be okay. So, go. Do. You don't have to eliminate your fears. Just don't allow yourself to be paralyzed by them. Give yourself time to do the things that scare you. Let go of all the "what if's." Stop "should-ing" all over yourself. =) Dye your hair pink. Save up the money and visit Norway. Introduce yourself to a stranger.

Live the life you've always imagined for yourself.

Why I now like exercising

2011-07-26T20:13:00.001-07:00

The $7 work-out videos at Walmart. They've changed my life.

My sister Beckah recently wrote a blog about why she doesn't like to exercise, so I thought I'd write a response. Here's why at-home work-out videos are superior to any other work out regimen:

1. You can avoid the atmosphere of the gym. The gym is a place where weird people go to find dates. It's a place where you're embarrassed, because there are only so many people you can be sweaty in front of. Plus, if you're just beginning the whole work out thing, you don't have to deal with the judgmental sneers from those who can bench press YOU in addition to what you're bench pressing.

2. You don't have to leave your home. No need to change into work out clothes, pack a bag, get in the car and drive all the way out to wherever. You can wear whatever you want, and you don't have to schedule the trip.

3. No gym membership. Which means more money for other things like books and music and Taco Bell. I guess you do have to pay for the work out video, but still.

4. You can set your own pace. (AKA you can cheat and no one will be the wiser. I mean, if you want to pursue your fitness goal, you shouldn't cheat. But some days, you just don't have it in ya, and the other fitness class members won't judge you if you cut corners.)

5. There's someone cheerfully encouraging you. It's the CHEESIEST thing in the world, but I for one am a fan of being repeatedly told "You can do it!" "Looking good!" "This will give you the rockin' body you deserve!"

6. You can't beat the canned midi loops that you're sweatin' to.

7. You also can't beat the awkwardly smiling fitness girls in the background. I always wonder how they find those. Are they models? Dancers? Is it the kind of thing one's agent would book for you? I like to imagine that they just send someone to wander the gyms of LA, and when they find someone with white enough teeth, they ask them to be a background work out girl.

Anyway, that's my advice. Invest in some at-home work out videos.

Then again, this is coming from the girl who ate 1/3rd of a package of bacon by herself today, so I might not be the best person to give health advice.

Are you pondering what I'm pondering?

2011-07-16T19:18:00.000-07:00

Some deep thoughts today...

I've been pondering this blog a lot lately. It's gone through quite a few changes, and I don't think it's done changing yet. When it began, way back in 2004, blogger was still a fairly new thing. I don't think there was such a thing as a "Mormon Mommy Blog." Or fashion blogs. They didn't really exist yet. And for the most part, I knew my audience. I was writing to my family and a few friends, just not in e-mail form, in case anyone else was interested in reading. Now, to my great surprise, I have 175 followers. Which is awesome. And a little strange, just because I only know two dozen of them. Three or four times in the last few years, people I've just met have said to me "This is kind of crazy, but I actually know you from your blog." (One of those people is now my husband.)

I've remained sort of aloof from the blog-world in general as the years have gone by...I only follow three or four blogs of people I don't know, and then I don't even actually "follow" them (via blogger), I just have links on my own blog, or bookmarks. I never do giveaways, and I've only entered one once. I've tried hard to keep this blog in the spirit of its original intention...simply a place to share thoughts and updates.

But it's getting difficult for two reasons:
1) My audience has changed. And that's grand, it's just different.
2) I've changed. If you go back and read some of my early entries, they're delightful, but I've sort of "grown up" more. This is mostly a very good thing...I'm aware of what I should and shouldn't be publishing on the internet. But there's a lust for adventure and a delight in sharing fabulous realities that used to be a much bigger part of me.

It's sort of a theme in my life right now. I used to be much better at saying yes to whatever adventures came along, and of seeing the everyday beauty of life. And this blog used to be much more a part of that.

I don't think this blog should "go back" to what it used to be. Nor do I think I should "go back" to who I used to be. But there are parts of me that I think are the truest me, and those true parts have been hiding under a few fears lately...a lot of past experiences trying to keep me from living as fully and as beautifully as I could be. I'm working on bringing those true parts of me out into the light again.

And maybe this blog will be a part of that. I've been reading a lot of delightful stories on some fantastic blogs lately, and the life-loving, adventure-seeking, story-telling part of me is being woken up. In recent years, I've really only blogged if "I have something to say"...some specific topic to write about. But there are a lot of great stories that are going untold because of that. So it's time to celebrate life a little more, especially on this little ole blog.

What 1 year of true love looks like

2011-07-13T11:19:00.001-07:00

I guess technically this is what a celebration of one year of true love looks like. A year of true love defies pictures, I feel. I could spend this blog entry telling you all about our true love, why it's been a great year, what I love about Jacob, etc. etc. But I don't feel a need to today...I've told him those things, so suffice it to say that it's been a great year and I love Jacob and I'm excited to see where our marriage takes us next. I'll tell you about our anniversary weekend instead.

About a week before, I asked Jacob if he had any ideas of how we should celebrate our anniversary. We're pretty poor at the moment, so I didn't want to go too crazy, but I wanted a celebration. Jacob informed me that he had been scheming, and that it was a surprise.

Now, Jacob usually just doesn't have it in him to keep a surprise a surprise for very long. He usually ends up revealing what the surprise is. But this time, he kept it all secret and didn't tell me a thing! Sunday afternoon, I was blindfolded and handed my iPod to listen to, then guided to the car and placed inside. I had some suspicions about what we were doing, and I thought camping might be involved, but I had no idea where or for how long or anything.

After about half an hour in the car, Jacob said I could either remove the blindfold then and enjoy the scenery, or I could wait until we arrived at our destination. I took off the blindfold to see the beautiful countryside outside of Ashton, and was informed that we were on our way to Mesa Falls, Idaho! Which was extra-awesome, because it's been on my list to visit all summer. =)

We camped for one night, enjoyed the scenery, talked, got eaten alive by mosquitoes, almost got rained on but then didn't, ate tinfoil dinners and s'mores, and enjoyed being surrounded by God's beautiful creations. Jacob had gone to his parents house to prepare a few things, and his family told him that under the circumstances, they wanted to give him his birthday present early...because it was a tent and two sleeping bags! And what a lovely tent it was too. Without the rain-cover, three full sides of it are mesh, so it's like being all kinds of outdoors without being eaten by the 4,000 bugs that kept attempting to feast on us. We're excited to put the tent to use for the rest of the summer. We also had such a great time being in nature, and are so blessed to live in this incredible place, that we decided that every Saturday from now until the end of the summer will be spent doing something outdoorsy. =)

And now here are some pictures.

(You like the optical illusion in this top-left picture? Jacob appears to me taller than me! In reality, we're about the same height.)

We also decided that even though we're in love, making out while covered in sunscreen, bug repellent and dirt is one of the least romantic things in the world. So we made up for it when we got home.

Oh beautiful

2011-07-07T19:14:00.000-07:00

I love the 4th of July. I really do. I especially love the 4th of July in a small town like Rexburg. And here's why.

Friday - We set off fireworks with Jordan and Heather in the Church parking lot. I will forever treasure the image of little Heather, almost 41 weeks pregnant, lighting fireworks and then running away from them. Also, a lot of candy was consumed.

Saturday - The day of purchasing fireworks. Which was sort of similar to they ways in which I imagine people purchase weed. I went to the Black Cat stand in the Broulims parking lot and spent almost $60 on explosives, and then said "Bottle rockets aren't legal in town, are they?" And I said that because I knew that someone there would then tell me where I could get some. Which they did. I drove five minutes out of town to someone's farm, where they had a truck trailer in their yard, full of explosives. I walked up and said "I need some bottle rockets...I hear you're the people to see." "Come with me," one of them said, before leading me into the dark truck trailer and handing me a package of contraband fireworks. I filled out paperwork with my name, address, and driver's license number, and provided the name of a city that I was planning to export these fireworks to. I felt awesome.

Sunday - A day of food and friends! In the afternoon, we were joined by Seve and Jules, and Mike and Shanda, and had one of those "married people meals" that married people are always planning. The highlight of which was the HOMEMADE STRAWBERRY ICE CREAM we made for dessert. Jacob and I got an ice-cream maker for our wedding almost a year ago, but this is the first time we've used it. But I think we'll be using it about once a week for the rest of the summer. Seve and Jules stayed a bit longer, which necessitated a second dessert of s'mores made with Nutella instead of chocolate, and pumpkin chocolate chip cookies instead of graham crackers. And they were amazing. Then Jules and I talked about babies (she's due in November) while Seve and Jacob had a Nerf gun war.

Monday - I got a text from Jordan around 3 am announcing that they were on their way to the hospital to have their baby. I might have done a little happy dance, and then slept for 4 more hours. While I hadn't been looking forward to getting up at 7 am, by the time it came around, I was pretty awake. One of my best friends was having a baby and I was getting ready to be in a parade. And 4th of July in a small town just can't be beat. (It's something every American should experience at least once.)

We dropped some breakfast off at the hospital for the Taits, then drove over to the school, where the Theatre Summer Camp at BYU-Idaho readied ourselves and our "float" (Gary's truck with a banner taped onto it), then drove out to Smith Park, the parade's starting point. The parade was a blast, roasting hot, but we had fun. After changing out of our costumes (I was a nerd, and Jacob was a founding father, sort of), the Grotto Committee members went our separate ways...Jacob to finish some things at home and me to Porter Park for a while, to enjoy the Independence Day Fair. I ate two chicken kabobs and listened to the jazz band while watching people ride the mechanical bull.

It was still hot by afternoon, so a handful of friends told us to meet them at Beaverdick Park (every single time I write that name, I can't believe it), and to bring our bathing suits. So we joined Mike, Shanda, Seve, Jules, Jerry, Ashley, and Janelle, dangling our feet in the water at the dock and occasionally throwing each other in. The highlight of that afternoon was probably when Jacob attempted to step from the dock to a large pipe that was sticking out of the water, where he was planning on balancing. He succeeded for about one and a half seconds before exclaiming "Oh, freak," and falling into the water, shoes, glasses, and all. He did manage to save himself and all of those valuable articles, though. Oh, and I foolishly refused sunscreen, wanting my skin to be "sun-kissed," which would somehow make summer a reality. My back is now somewhere between "fire engine red" and "magenta," and summer is too much of a reality.

In the evening, it was fireworks with Jacob's family! As per the tradition I've developed, I read the Declaration of Independence (with occasional interjections of "Sshhh!" and "Hey, listen!" and "Pay attention! This is a sacred document!"), at the end of which we lit the first firework of the night. We had several unsuccessful "Tank Wars," and lit dozens of ground-flowers and crackle-bombs and sparklers. (We've still got a handful of 'em around here somewhere, to be set off at a later time and place...)

Happy birthday, America. (And Kaitlynn Elizabeth Tait.)

Big (or very small) news

2011-07-05T11:22:00.002-07:00

I'm going to write about my 4th of July weekend at some point, including a rant about the terrible sunburn I got, but first, there are two small miracles that need to be celebrated.

The first small miracle belongs (in part) to this person:

(Yep, Carrie. I used THIS photo.)
This is Carrie Chapman. We became friends in the fall of 2004, in Acting I, and we've been tight ever since. Our friendship is based on telling great stories, helping each other through hard times, exchanging letters while Carrie was on a mission, and similar liberal/hippie views of the world. She is one of my best friends in the world and I love her.

In April of 2009, Carrie married this person:

His name is Scott, and he plays the guitar and collects funny t-shirts. They were our downstairs neighbors during the first 6 months of Jacob and I's marriage, and we miss them every single day.

And on June 28th, these people became a family of three, as this little person came into the world:

This little bundle of joy is named Georgia Rose, AKA "Peach" or "Peach Pie." (Georgia peach...get it?) I don't know a lot about her yet, and I'm sure she's still learning about herself, too. She's only been here on earth for 7 days. But everyone is sure glad she's here. I can't wait to meet her, and she is one lucky baby to have Scott and Carrie for a mom and dad.

The second miracle belongs (also in part) to this person:

This is Jordan Tait, another bestie. We became friends on the night I smeared chocolate on his face at this party in the Fall of 2006, and we spent a Playmill summer together in 2007. Our friendship is based on similar tastes in music, a shared passion for comedy, film, and theatre, and helping each other accomplish and face difficult things.

In August of 2010, about a month after my own wedding, Jordan married this person:

This is Heather. Heather is one of the kindest people I have ever met, and if she seems shy when you first meet her, don't let that fool you. She's also got a FANTASTIC sense of humor, and is a stronger person than most other people you'll meet.

And in the early evening of July 4th, the duo became a trio with the arrival of this little girl:

This is Baby Tait. She doesn't have a name quite yet, although I keep rooting for "Elizabeth." =) (UPDATE: THIS IS KAITLYNN ELIZABETH TAIT. Bam.) Her birth was welcomed by a procession on Main Street (four marching bands, seven cheer/dance teams, Miss Rexburg, the dancing guys from Ray's Car Wash, and floats advertising local businesses), and fireworks. But she deserves it. I haven't met her yet, but if she's anything like her parents, I already know she's a gem. I can't wait to meet her later today, or tomorrow.

I have all sorts of new thoughts about the miracle of birth and families and stuff, but at the moment I'm still a little speechless with the wonder of it all, and even if I could articulate my thoughts and feelings, I don't know if this blog is the place to record them. So I'll just say that these two little people amaze me. I'm so excited for these dear friends to begin this journey of parenthood. I keep having these experiences that make me think "Whoa. I'm like, an ADULT now." And then something else happens that makes me feel like that again and I feel like I never really was grown up before. I guess that will continue until the end of my life, and probably beyond.

In the meantime, I'm thrilled for the Chapmans and the Taits. Congratulations to two new little families.

At the end of June

2011-06-23T21:45:00.000-07:00

It was over 80 degrees today. I went on a bike ride and narrowly escaped being sprayed by a skunk.

Summer has officially and truly begun.

I've never held a human heart, but I imagine that I know what it would feel like

2011-06-21T20:51:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about this poem lately...the last year or so, the theme of the heart has made its way into at least half of my poetry. None of it is half as good as Margaret Atwood's though. This poem is incredible.

Enjoy a bit of poetic beauty today.

The Woman Who Could Not Live With Her Faulty Heart
Margaret Atwood

I do not mean the symbol
of love, a candy shape
to decorate cakes with,
the heart that is supposed
to belong or break;

I mean this lump of muscle
that contracts like a flayed biceps,
purple-blue, with its skin of suet,
its skin of gristle, this isolate,
this caved hermit, unshelled
turtle, this one lungful of blood,
no happy plateful.

All hearts float in their own
deep oceans of no light,
wetblack and glimmering,
their four mouths gulping like fish.
Hearts are said to pound:
this is to be expected, the heart’s
regular struggle against being drowned.

But most hearts say, I want, I want,
I want, I want. My heart
is more duplicitious,
though no twin as I once thought.
It says, I want, I don’t want, I
want, and then a pause.
It forces me to listen,

and at night it is the infra-red
third eye that remains open
while the other two are sleeping
but refuses to say what it has seen.

It is a constant pestering
in my ears, a caught moth, limping drum,
a child’s fist beating
itself against the bedsprings:
I want, I don’t want.
How can one live with such a heart?

Long ago I gave up singing
to it, it will never be satisfied or lulled.
One night I will say to it:
Heart, be still,
and it will.

And considering what is more...

2011-06-14T16:38:00.000-07:00

From our recent run of Waiting for Godot. Thanks to Camilla for helping with the filmage. And I'll just say right now that with very few exceptions (for reasons unknown), this monologue is word-for-word from the script we worked with.

That's right. I memorized this bugger.

(Also, isn't that the greatest wig you've ever seen?! Jacob said I looked like Lady Gaga.)

Missionary Jacob Joy

2011-06-12T12:32:00.000-07:00

An old missionary companion of Jacob's sent this video our way recently...it's of the two of them, and some music, and some lampshades. And it reminded me of why I married my Jacob. He's a delight to my own goofy heart.

Stay-at-home-parents vs. Working parents

2011-06-08T12:39:00.001-07:00

I have several good friends right now who are either new mothers or going to be mothers any day now. I'm not a mother myself, but having worked as a nanny and a baby-sitter before, and having spent two summers in the nursery at Church, I can appreciate this. This is for anyone who may still be under the impression that being a stay-at-home-mom is an easy job.

Stay-At-Home vs. Working Parents: Questions to help spouses bridge the communication gap
By Heather Rigby
via Babble.com

My husband always asks how my day went. And he really wants to know. He’s nice like that. As we slowly push the girls around in the stroller, he shares what went right during his day at the office, and I share funny things the kids said. On bad days we vent stresses and offer support and advice.

But lately I can’t help wondering if when I mention that my day was sort of stressful, he mentally thinks, “Yeah, my days are like that too.” Because I really don’t think that our days have the same sort of stresses.

When you decide to become a stay-at-home parent, you enter into a different realm — one ruled by illogical two-year-old dictators, school schedules, and choosing the correct color yogurt. As much as I can explain this to my husband, I don’t know that I’m getting through. Now I’ve done the next best thing: creating a list of questions that will help him and other office-bound parents gauge how (cough, cough) similar their days are to ours.

1. When you walked into work this morning and pleasantly greeted your co-worker Jim, was his first reaction to scream “NO! WANT JASON!" followed by an office supply being thrown at you?

2. Has a colleague ever climbed up on your lap while you were using your computer and slammed the keyboard with both fists until the up arrow no longer worked?

3. Do you have to lock yourself in the supply closet or bathroom on a regular basis in order to make phone calls?

4. Did you finish a complete thought at any time during the day?

5. When you went out to lunch with your fellow workers, did you have to pack a diaper/juice/extra outfit for them? Did you have to wipe their faces? Smile an apology and leave an extra tip for the waiter on their behalf?

6. When a co-worker needed you for something, did she sit at her desk with her head tilted back toward the ceiling and repeatedly scream “SEAN! SEEEEANNNN! SEAAAAAAN!” until you came to find him?

7. When you needed a specific colleague, did you search all over for him, only to finally find him giggling in the cabinet under the sink? Did you also find six pairs of your church shoes under there with him?

8. Have you had to come to an associate’s aid because she fell off her desk after trying to climb on top of it using a rolling chair?

9. When you reached for the report a co-worker was handing you, did he snatch them away at the last second and scream “MINE!” while shoving you backwards?

10. Does your colleague lift up her shirt and pick things out of her belly button every time she comes over to ask a question?

11. While you are using the restroom, do various co-workers come in the stall and ask you to settle a disagreement or open a packet of fruit snacks?

12. During a board meeting when everyone is present, do you notice a smell and then have to check all your colleagues’ pants to locate it? In fact, at ANY point in your day do you have to deal with another person's feces?

If the answer to most of these questions is no, it’s a safe bet to assume you’re in an office. That said, if your answer to most of these questions is yes, and you know you’re in an office, it’s safe to assume you might need a new job.

A list of things

2011-06-05T14:52:00.001-07:00

Things I don't like very much:
- Hay fever
- The closest Barnes and Noble being half an hour away (although this is probably better for our bank account)
- Realizing on a Sunday that every single thing you can think of to make/eat calls for milk, and not having any in the house

Things I don't understand (which doesn't mean I dislike them...I just don't get it):
- Rustic farm equipment used for front yard decorations (Like, wagon wheels in the flower beds and stuff. It looks odd to me.)
- Why people sometimes have both an iPod AND an iPhone. Isn't the whole point to have everything in one device?
- Why restaurants in college towns would turn the fryer off at 10:30 on a Saturday night

Things I love:
- Netflix Instant Viewing
- Steak
- Emails telling me I've recently won/inherited/been asked to transfer an enormous amount of money. Like this one, which is probably the best one I've ever received. I've kept it in my inbox for like two months because it cracks me up. Everything is as it was in the original email...spelling, grammar, etc.

Subject: PLEASE ASSIST FOR HUMANITY SAKE

Dear Beloved,

First, I must apologize to you for using this medium to communicate to you about this project I am the above named person from Cardiff, Wales I was married to Mr. Ronald Rich who worked with the British embassy in Kuwait for nine years before he died in March, 2007.We were married for eleven years without a child. He died after a brief illness that lasted for only four days. When my late husband was alive he deposited the sum of $8.5Million (Eight Million five hundred thousand U.S. Dollars) in cash with a security company in London.Presently, this money is still with the security company , my doctor told me that I would not last for the next three weeks due to cancer problem. Though what disturbs me most is my stroke. [This line is probably my favorite part.]

Having known my condition I decided to donate this fund to cancer research centers. I am therefore looking for any individual that will utilize this money the way I am going to instruct. The person must also donate to orphanages, Research centers and widows propagating the word [another favorite line], I took this decision because I don’t have any child that will inherit this money. I don’t want a situation where this money will be used in an unjust manner. Hence the reason for taking this bold decision. I am not afraid of death hence I know where I am going.

I don’t need any telephone communication in this regard because of my health and the presence of my husbands relatives around me always as they are very greedy and only hope that i die soon to enable them claim the rest of my husbands wealth hence I don’t want them to know about this development,by his grace, all things are possible. As soon as i receive your reply I shall give you the contact of an attorney who would help you for the immediate release of the funds to you in cash or by telegraphic wire transfer.I will also issue a letter of authority that will empower you as the new beneficiary of this fund.Please assure me that you will act accordingly as I stated herein.

Hope to hear from you soon through my private ------- and be assured that it will not take more than 7 working days for you to receive the funds from the date you acknowledge receipt of this mail.

Remain Blessed,
Elizabeth Rich.

I want to contact this person and tell them they should write for television.

(Also, here's a tip: My dad works at an embassy, and he is not a millionaire. Very few embassy workers are.)

If it's not on facebook, it didn't happen

2011-06-04T16:34:00.000-07:00

If I don't click "Like," will the world still believe that I really DO love my husband?

On food

2011-05-27T10:55:00.000-07:00

This is what I keep saying to myself:

"I'm going to eat this, and I'm going to feel so gross, and it's going to be awesome."

Except the awesome keeps being overwhelmed by the gross. Maybe I should introduce vegetables back into my diet...

Today, I...

2011-05-23T16:16:00.001-07:00

~~• Did the dishes~~
~~• Worked on poetry submissions~~
~~• Wrote lesson plans~~
~~• Emailed my parents~~
~~• Finalized my grad plan~~
~~• Did laundry~~
~~• Cleaned the house~~
~~• Showered~~
• Went on an impromptu day-trip to Yellowstone National Park, where I stood above waterfalls, drove through trees, and made friends with an otter, an elk, and a lady taking a picture of the elk.

Totally worth it.

A Funny, re-posted

2011-05-21T23:18:00.000-07:00

*

I put this up on facebook a few months ago, but thought I'd re-post it here for fun.

This post is directed to expecting moms out there. Of those friends who are pregnant, one is due any day now, and two have only a month to go! But if you still don't have a name for your bundle of joy, don't panic. Jacob and I have taken it upon ourselves to help you all name your offspring. Most of you are having girls, it seems, so we only brainstormed one gender. Here are the girl names. You may thank us later.

Sarsaparilla
Amia
Incendiary
Quadrophenia
Bowlcut
Punky
Lollapalooza
Elemeno (reference to that one part of the alphabet that we all thought was one word)
Cookie
Squirrelly Girly
Nettle
Echinacea
Hades
Recipe
Yoghurt (You know, like Margaret? But a little different...)
StalagTite (This is in case your baby is a rapper.)
Trinidad
Craw-Lady (femified version of "crawdad," could also double as a rapper name)
Juneau (like the city in Alaska)
Citrus
Obimi (like Obama, only femified)
Tinuvial
Cherries Jubilee
Prognosis Ann
The Sun Also Rises
The Great Gatsbina

Your kids are going to be the most popular ones in their classes.

(For more baby name laughs, check out this blog on Rexburg baby names. There are also three previous installments. Sometime, some sociology researchers should come study Rexburg Mormon culture. Strange phenomena around here.)

*Also, a clarification for any readers with suspicions...Jacob and I aren't pregnant. (Although I am absurdly baby hungry.) Sorry. These are for our friends who ARE pregnant. When we have them, all of our girls will be named after flowers. Hippie-like.

I'd buy you a green dress...

2011-05-16T15:28:00.000-07:00

Spring REFUSES to stay. I'm nursing the sunburn I got yesterday as a reminder of days past. I suppose "showers" do go along with spring, but I want the kind of spring that has SUNSHINE.

Anyway, all this gray sky business has me antsy. The other day while getting gasoline (at like $3.98 a gallon), I glanced up at the gas station building and the signs around it and noticed that the Idaho lottery is at $81 million.

Now I'm not entirely sure I agree with the whole idea of a lottery...any extra money the state has oughta go to education in my opinion, and I know the government taxes the hell out of your winnings. But as I watched the gas tank eat up our budget for the next two months, I couldn't help daydreaming. Here's what I would do with just $1 million, tax free:

1) I would pay off all our students loans (I guess those are all MY loans) and set aside money for the rest of our education, including graduate school.

2) I would fly my family out to Rexburg to see "Waiting for Godot."

3) I would buy a motorcycle.

4) I would visit our friends in England, and traipse about Europe with my husband for a spell.

5) I would possibly buy this house. And then redecorate it some.

6) I would buy the Career Beauty College building on College Ave, renovate it as a theatre and start a theatre company in Rexburg. (I realize I could spend the entire $1 mil on this, but I'll just get it started.)

7) I would buy a lot of movies.

8) I would buy a drumset, and a bass, and a microphone, and a few more amps. And then I would wrap it all up and give it all to Jacob.

9) And after that, I wouldn't know what to do with the remaining $150,000. (Yes, I budgeted this.) I'd probably invest it, and then travel.

What would YOU do with $1 million dollars?

Exit Through Rexburg

2011-05-13T20:25:00.002-07:00

There's a strange phenomenon going on in Rexburg. (Actually, there are two: the other one is that apparently everyone in Rexburg just decided to start over, building-wise. At least seven buildings have been razed to the ground in the last few months. But that's not what I want to blog about. I want to blog about the other phenomenon in Rexburg.)

First of all, an introduction. The world of street art has been making its way into my consciousness with increasing enthusiasm over the last year or so. After discovering Banksy and other street artists, and after watching the award-winning documentary "Exit Through the Gift Shop," I'm a pretty big fan. I said that once and someone said "But, is Banksy still as awesome now that his stuff is being shown in museums and auctioned off at $500,000 a piece?" I replied, "Good art is good art." And while the whole illegality thing IS admittedly part of the awesomeness, I mostly just appreciate the sheer creativity of works like Banksy's. (See examples HERE.)

And okay, I love the "I will leave my mark on the world" feeling to creative street art. There's some tagging/graffiti (ok, a lot) that I don't appreciate...any fool with a spray can is capable of writing the F-word on a train car. But good street art is almost like "branding," both in the cow-poke sense and in the corporate America sense.

And all of this is why I'm intrigued by this recent Rexburg discovery:

There's someone going about Rexburg with a spray can and a dash of creativity! They're no Banksy or Shepherd Fairey or Invader, but "RINO" is making a mark nonetheless.

Jacob and I have decided to call this mystery artist "RINO" because of the three above examples. (The "RINO was sloppy" one I discovered just today while going out to photograph these.) There are a handful of stenciled works, which is a signature Banksy thing, that I think are fun:

But "RINO's" signature thing is these bug-eyed faces:

I find them endearing. They remind me of Tim Burton sketches. And I guess, technically, the stencils and the bug-faces could be done by different people. But because of the locations of the art, and because it's REXBURG, I'm pretty sure it's either one person, or two people that are working together. It's simply impossible to assume that Rexburg has TWO independent street artists, working simultaneously.

So far, I'm a fan of all this. Even if it's illegal. It's a difficult thing, because if I support this, why not support anyone who wants to draw anything anywhere? So far, my reasoning is that I support the creative spirit wherever it manifests, but the main thing is that it's actually ART...or at least it fits more into that category than in the "vandalism" category. Of course, that's almost completely subjective, so I'll just say that it's purely my opinion, and I can't think of any way to reach an objective conclusion.

I like the mustached face. He's so expressive. My favorite are the eyeglasses. They remind me of The Great Gatsby. Rexburg's own "Dr. T.J. Eckleberg."

(Also, I felt awesome and like an underground journalist, driving around Rexburg and walking down railroad tracks to take these pictures. When I was photographing the eyeglasses, a man working nearby asked me if "That was my art." Which I denied.)

Today

2011-05-08T09:00:00.001-07:00

Ladies and gentlemen, I know I have left you all hanging on the whole New York trip thing. I apologize. I've been fighting off a cold (which I have officially defeated, kind of, except for a lingering cough), helping to plan a theatre summer camp at BYU-Idaho, and trying to memorize what I've concluded is the most challenging monologue in all of theatre. So the rest of the NYC trip is forthcoming. I probably could have hammered it out in the last week or so, but I knew it would be no good, and I'm sure that when you read more about New York, you'll want it to be good. I'll want it to be good. In summary, I am sorry to leave you all in suspense. But I make no promises as to when the rest of my travel journal will be published. Patience is a virtue. And besides, today's about something else.

Today is Mother's Day! The closer I get to the possibility of being a mother myself, and the more I see loved ones around me embarking on this adventure, the more my appreciation for motherhood grows. I'm glad we have today to celebrate it.

Today is about Marianna Wolff, who taught me to love learning, to care for everyone no matter what color their skin or whether they look or act differently, and to find beauty in nature.

Today is about Mary Whittaker, who taught me the beauty of weeding a garden in the early hours of the summer, the secrets of that mysterious world of cooking, and the joy of living the Gospel.

Today is about Kristi Chapman, who taught me more about the blessings of friendship, the power of kindness, and the fact that family love knows no blood boundaries.

Today is about Carrie, Heather, and Jacqueline, and anyone else who is getting ready to make this big leap into motherhood.

Today is about Amber and Annelise...and all those who are mothers to little ones who are waiting for them on the other side. And about those who have lost before they had the chance to begin.

Today is about Darcy, Amanda Kelley, Taylor, and Kara, and every other wonderful mother whose example I am blessed to follow.

Today is about those who long for motherhood, but haven't yet felt tiny feet kick their insides.

Today is about all the fears, the firsts, and the fights, all of the laughter and terror and hope that is motherhood. Mothers of the world, I salute you. I'm excited to join your ranks someday.

NYC: Sunday, April 9, 2011 – Monday, April 10, 2011

2011-04-26T14:06:00.001-07:00

Okay everyone. Here's the WHOLE THING. (Well, the WHOLE THING of Sunday and Monday...gives you a sense of what a project this is, eh?) Please feel free to skim if you wish. But I put it all there for your sakes, because I love you. And also because when I asked my mom what she wanted as a souvenir from New York, she replied "a detailed blog." So this is for you, Mom.

These two days have to be written about as one, because they sort of flowed into each other, with uncomfortable naps scattered throughout them. So here goes.

I spent most of Sunday afternoon wandering around the house with a desperate case of cabin fever. We didn’t need to leave until 4 pm or so, and if you’re getting ready for a big trip, that’s the worst time to leave, because you spend most of the day just wanting to go, but knowing it would be pointless to leave so early. But after packing, a game of chess, a bit of last-minute cleaning, and a lot of pacing, 4 o’clock arrived and we headed out. We gave a ride to our friend Jerry and a girl named Cassy, whom we didn’t know at the time, but who is now a friend. =) We had some great conversations on our way down, about the Gospel, about LDS culture, about the need for compassion, and a lot of other things. (One of those great conversations that you learn a lot in, but have a hard time summarizing later.) Jacob’s grandparents gave us a ride to the airport and Jerry presented himself to them as their new adopted grandson.

At the airport, we had to go through one of those disturbing “see everything” security machines, and Kolby had to have his leg patted down because he had a gum wrapper in his pocket, which apparently looked suspicious on the screen. We sat in the airport and swapped stories and played hackeysack. Omar and Lori Hansen told us a great story about moving to New York as newlyweds. They literally packed their car with their wedding gifts a week after being married, and drove to Manhattan to audition and write. They only lasted a few weeks there, but they look back on it as a good memory now. The hackeysack was funny, because as soon as Jacob and Jerry started, Heidi and Sam said that they always make fun of hackeying because it’s usually so anticlimactic. One person hits it and it falls to the ground. In an effort to prove them wrong, we made Sam join in, and I joined in as well, and I’m proud to say that our record was 11 hits. We made up all sorts of rules to compensate for our general lack of hackeying talent (things like “any time the hackey hits ANYTHING, it’s 3 points”).

My other favorite moment from the trip was when in the silence of standing/sitting around and waiting, John said “I hope we see a celebrity. So I can give them the finger.” John is a “charming enigma” to most of us. He also told us a story about how one day he was sitting in a park in the Czech Republic (any story that begins this way is sure to be interesting), eating a can of olives which he decided were not to his liking. So he left them on a park bench and watched and waited until a homeless man came up, investigated, sat down and ate every olive with delight. Our joke about John all week was that we were probably going to lose him in New York. Not on purpose, just that a few days into the trip, one of us would look around and say, “Where’s John?” (Which actually did happen a few times, but he always turned up later.)

Our flight was mostly uneventful, aside from the moment when I woke up at 2 in the morning to the worst turbulence I have ever experienced in my life. Normally, I give a hearty “yee-haw” to turbulence, but something about the lack of sleep, my already present nausea from medicine, my hunger, and my inability to see out the window, made the experience a NIGHTMARE. And this wasn’t just a few bumps and jolts. I’m talking like, 7.5 magnitude earthquake for 40 minutes straight. Even the most avid roller-coaster enthusiast has to admit that 40 minutes of adrenaline is too much. Biologically speaking, your brain is receiving all sorts of signals that says that you’re about to DIE, so it kicks into survival mode, pumping adrenaline through your body. And on a dark night, at 2 in the morning, no amount of self-talk can convince your brain that you’re actually NOT dying.

I finally ended up in the bathroom with my head between my knees, just waiting to pass out, throw up, or some combination of both. After I had been gone about fifteen minutes, Jacob finally came and knocked on the door, and held my hand until we were on solid ground again. Which was especially gallant of him, since he gets pretty ill himself during plane landings. Anyway, I was glad to reach the airport, although I did spend the next few hours being convinced that I had contracted some disease from the airplane bathroom, since in my desperation, I had run there barefoot. But so far, my feet and body are fine.

We all sleepily grabbed our luggage, sleepily got on the bus, and sleepily watched as we passed a MILLION graveyards! Apparently, Queens is filled with very old, large, and eerie graveyards. I couldn’t believe how big some of them were. I was too sleepy to figure out how to take a picture of them from a moving vehicle, but I found a picture or two online to show you. Maybe it was the fact that it was sunrise, and there was a grey mist over everything, but it’s one of the most vivid images I have of the entire trip.

When we got into Manhattan, I felt something within me sort of shift and sigh into place. There’s something about big cities that make me feel comfortable in them. I don’t think I could happily live there forever, and my “own” city of San Francisco is very different, but somehow I feel like there’s a part of me that belongs in a big city.

We all sort of woke up a little more once we got into the city as well, especially when we got to an intersection and noticed a completely naked man showering in his upstairs apartment. Really. He was NAKED. The shower fogged up the window enough to obscure the details of his person, but still. We decided to consider that our official welcome into New York City. (There was also something that morning about a pole-dancing Ronald McDonald in a window somewhere, but I was too sleepy to be able to process that one.)

For some reason, checking in seemed to take another million years, probably because I was 80% asleep. I finally curled up on top of a coffee table in the lobby until we got our key and could head upstairs to take a nap.

A word on our hotel:
We stayed at the Milford Plaza, on the corner of 44th and 8th. It was IDEAL as far as location goes, and reasonably priced, and not too shabby. But I had the distinct impression that they were trying REALLY hard to be trendy, and not succeeding at all. You’ve either got 2 million dollars to put a bar in the lobby, or you haven’t, and no amount of pink gels over the lights you place beside the columns can make it look that way. It looks like it used to be a really fancy hotel…marble columns and chandeliers. But it has since fallen into disrepair, and attempts to “hip-ify” it make it only more painfully obvious how un-hip it is. They could have a clean, decent Motel 6 kind of feel if they stopped trying so hard. But I came to love it anyway.

Here’s a funny story about how “small-town” Jacob and I have become. We were told we were in room 2025. The elevators were cool in that there was one dial-pad thing for four elevators…you would enter the floor number you need, and it would tell you which elevator to go to. Well, since our room number began with a “2,” we naturally assumed we were on the 2nd floor, and dialed up an elevator, so to speak. But after wandering around office spaces and janitor’s closets, we decided our room must not be on the 2nd floor. Jacob finally realized that our room must be on the 20th floor. Ha ha ha. That’s about 16 floors taller than the tallest building in Rexburg. In that moment, I felt…what’s the word? Provincial.

I did run across the street for a greasy breakfast of eggs, pancakes, and bacon, at this little deli that I never visited again. Then it was glorious glorious sleep. When we woke up around noon, we all met in the lobby to take a brief walking tour of Manhattan, to familiarize us with the area, and attempt to wake our bodies up. (And to enjoy the balmy 78 degree weather, which didn’t really show its face again the entire time we were there.) As we waited in the lobby, Jacob turned to me and said “My body feels so traumatized.” Which was accurate for all of us, I think. Driving four hours, a red-eye flight full of turbulence, and a nap do not make for feeling at the top of your game.

Our hotel was right around the corner from Times Square, and Times Square was our first stop. It is a crowded, insane kind of place. And I don’t like it at all. Aside from the really cool shops there. (The middle picture here is totally staged, but I love it anyway.)

We headed through the diamond district, which I didn’t even know existed. And which I also didn’t like. (I’m more of a hemp jewelry kind of girl myself. But more on diamonds when I write about Tiffany’s…) There was one memorable moment, when a guy standing in the doorway of his shop creepily said “Helloooo ladies. You like diamond?” No. I no like diamond. Not anymore.

The main “adventure” of this day was when Roger, Heidi, Jacob, Jerry, Sam, Kolby, Zack and I decided to check out a designer suit outlet on the second floor of a shop near 5th Ave. The rest of the group was in the American Girl Store next door, which, now that I think about it, I would have loved to visit. But then I wouldn’t have had this memorable experience. We crammed all eight of us into the elevator, and pressed “2.” The elevator went up about three feet, then skidded to a halt. And wouldn’t move again.

All of us looked at each other, with panic only right behind our eyes. Jerry and Sam attempted to shove the door open to check to see if we were between floors, or if we could escape. We were between floors.

We waited about three more minutes to assess our situation, and see if anything else could be done. Someone noticed the sign taped to the wall that said “WARNING: MAXIMUM CAPACITY FIVE PERSONS.” Which we were exceeding by about three and a half people (Jerry claimed that he was at least two people, but I’ll give him some slack and say he only counts as one and a half). And let me tell you, standing shoulder to shoulder in an un-air-conditioned elevator, on a warm day in NYC, you can start to feel a little panicky. I kept telling myself to take deep breaths, but doing so didn’t help much because the air was stifling. But in that situation, you can either panic, or laugh, and I made the decision (over and over again) to laugh. We finally called for help, and they said they’d be on their way shortly, then called the other group to tell them where we were. The conversation sounded a little like this:

Lori: Hello?
Roger: Hi Lori. We just wanted to let you know that we’re stuck in an elevator.
Lori: Are you kidding?
Roger: I wish I was.

But help arrived within five minutes or so! So if it had to happen, it happened in the best way it could have. I think part of me has always wanted to get stuck in an elevator, just for the experience, and so I can check that off my bucket list without it being too traumatic of an experience.

A few of us did go upstairs to check out suits, but they were all still way out of our price range. When we got back down, we discovered this:

Apparently, the person actually doing this job left their sandwich board and fliers just inside the door, so Jerry took the opportunity to utilize them himself. We also stopped by the Lindt Truffles, which was heavenly. And I was grateful that those babies are also available in Rexburg.

The bulk of the afternoon, however, was spent not stuck in elevators or going broke in chocolate shops, but rather in places of a more spiritual nature. Jacob said something cool later that day…he said that he loved that we started our visit to the city by going to its most sacred places. We first stopped at St. Patrick’s Cathedral. We got there at the end of mass, and we lit a candle for St. Patrick and wandered a bit, looking at all the statues of the other saints. Both Jacob and I had really spiritual experiences, and I won’t write about the details here—partly because they’re very personal, but mostly because I can’t find the words for them. But I did kneel in a pew and say a little prayer of gratitude in my own way, for truth and beauty, for the Savior, and for the hope that seeing so many people trying to do good brought me. Jacob talked about how he hasn’t visited many other churches in his life, but he remembers elders on his mission talking about their experiences in other churches. They used to talk about how false everything felt, especially in the Catholic church (no offense to any Catholics…keep reading), and how you could just feel the falseness, or something like that. But Jacob said that his experience in the cathedral was so different. He said he felt the Spirit, as did I, and that in many ways, it’s a lot of the same truth, just wearing slightly different clothing. I’m always a little taken aback when people talk about our Church as though we are spiritually superior, as though we have the monopoly on truth. I simply can’t see it as true. True devotion is without dogma, I think. I believe that my Church is true, but I don’t think we’re the only ones who have any truth at all. So to any Catholics reading this, know that my husband and I had a very spiritual experience in your church, and we are so grateful for it.

(And the building was GORGEOUS. Just awe-inspiring in so many ways. I loved the tall, vaulted ceilings, especially.)

The other cool thing that happened at St. Patrick’s is that after the mass, a choir came to the front and sang a few hymns. It looked like they were from a local high school, and they sounded fantastic. But as we were nearing the end of our visit, they began to sing Aaron Copland’s “All That Hath Life and Breath.” I sang that song my senior year of high school, and LOVED it. It’s one of my fondest memories of high school choir, and it was just really neat to hear it. ☺

We also visited an Episcopalian Church and a Protestant Church, but I’m ashamed to say that I don’t remember their exact names. They were equally beautiful though, and one of them reminded us of the Tabernacle at Temple Square. It was kind of surreal, but really beautiful to step into these cool, peaceful havens in the middle of this consumer-driven area of the city.

And speaking of diamonds, our next stop was…Tiffany and Co! The classiest jewelry store in Manhattan. I’ve got some moral issues with the diamond business, which I don’t quite feel like going into at the moment. There’s still some inhumane business practices in the diamond industry that I don’t want to support, and they’re just not quite my style anyway. (Which is why my own ring is still cubic zirconium, until we can afford to buy the stones from a reputable company.) To each his (or her) own. BUT, walking through Tiffany’s seems like something everyone should do once before they die. So we did. Jules, Amberly and I went to the second floor to look at engagement rings. We kept overhearing things like “Now this one will run around 30 or 40…” As in 30 or 40 THOUSAND. That will probably be my yearly salary someday. There was the famous “blue diamond” ring, valued at around $750,000. (Which, as a teacher, I would be able to afford only if I worked for fifteen years straight, didn’t pay taxes, and put every single dime of my paycheck towards the ring. One advantage of not being into diamonds.) At one point, a stately gentleman in a suit saw me looking in the display cases and said “Hello miss, are you here to buy a diamond?” To which I replied “Oh, not today, thank you.” As if I would come back next week to pick one up. You know, on my way home from Saks, or something.

We did pass Saks, actually. We only went in long enough to discover an INCREDIBLE perfume (something Bond No. 9) and pose with hats. But I was made aware of an Oscar de la Renta collection being sold upstairs. Now, Oscar de la Renta is one of my FAVORITE designers. I know I don’t seem like someone who would be very into fashion, and to be honest, I’m not really, but I adore Oscar de la Renta. His designs are so classy and feminine without being obnoxious. (Go look up some of his evening gowns to see what I mean. Anne Hathaway has worn him a few times on various occasions, and always looks stunning.) I know that I’ll probably never be able to afford to own an Oscar de la Renta dress, but it’s on my bucket list to at least wear one. So I made plans to come back later in the week and accomplish that goal. Which I totally did, but I’ll write about that later.

The whole gang then headed to FAO Schwartz, which had a foosball table made of armless Barbies, and where you could make your own muppet for $99. Oh, and there were some stuffed animals there too. At this point, I was feeling pretty ill, so I decided to head back to the hotel, despite the incredible opportunities that were all around me. I was at a point where I simply couldn’t enjoy them. So while the rest of the group (including Jacob) headed to Central Park (where they had adventures that I’ll detail in a moment), I walked back to our hotel. It was nice to just walk on my own. I’ve concluded that trying to walk in a group of more than four people in a city like New York is way too stressful. I’m always doing head counts and making sure everyone’s caught up, instead of paying any attention to anything else. So I liked just taking half an hour to reacquaint myself with Manhattan, on my own.

Although I did have a bizarre adventure in stopping into a drugstore for some medicine, only to find a total lack of medicine there. What kind of drugstore doesn’t sell drugs?! I bought a box of Honey Nut Cheerios and a ginger ale, and then walked around about eight times, trying to figure out where the medicine was. I guess I could have asked, but something in me wanted to prove to everyone that I was actually a self-sufficient city-dwelling type who was familiar with the Duane-Read on 5th Avenue. I finally discovered a hidden escalator to a lower level, where there was medicine galore. Huzzah! And my grocery bag of cereal and other goods prompted someone on the street to assume I was a native New Yorker. Double huzzah. ☺

I got back to the hotel, climbed into bed, ate dry cheerios, drank ginger ale, and watched two episodes of Friends. Which may sound sort of lame, but lemme tell ya, it was bliss. We don’t have television at our house, so just the act of channel-flipping and watching something on a screen bigger than my laptop felt glamorous. And I’m a big fan of dry cereal too. It may have seemed to others like an hour or so wasted, but I delighted in it and don’t regret a thing.

When Jacob returned, he related to me his experience in Central Park, which was apparently a little unpleasant in only a few aspects. I’ll let him relate what happened:

There was a group of dancing moneygrabbers in Central Park. It was the first time I’d ever been there, and it was the first group of street performers I’d ever seen there, and so I was a little insane with the highness of my hopes. The dancing moneygrabbers all happened to be black guys, and they had a few things going for them. One was that they could all break dance. Another was that they had a ludicrous 12-year-old who thought he owned the planet (he didn’t) and would tell the crowd what to do. “Put money in the bucket.” “Move back.” “Clap for us.” “Watch.” “Don’t leave until you’ve paid.” These guys were obsessed with money, which is okay, but it tainted the experience. The 12-year-old kid would run around yelling stuff while another of the older dudes took off his shirt and shook is buns at old women, while the other few dudes would step forward, one at a time, and s-l-o-w-l-y, with boredom, do their crazy body-flailing dance moves. It should have been awesome, but I’m not sure anybody was impressed. The dancers just didn’t care about what they were doing, didn’t like the fact that there were all these people around. They were only there to get their lucre. Thus the show boiled down to Twelve-Year-Old and Shirtless yelling at people to give up their money, staring people down until they gave up their money, or doing sexual-innuendo-stuff to make people laugh, which was a tactic to get money from the people who hadn’t yet given theirs up despite the yells and stares. I know about the last one not only because I saw Shirtless moisten his own nipples while giving people a coy sidelong glance, but because Shirtless also saw fit to grind his sweaty body against me when I gave 5 dollars to his soulless cause. I gave the money, was violated by Shirtless, and was promptly approached and stared at by Twelve-Year-Old. “I already paid,” I sobbed. He coasted robotically away. Why 5 dollars? I don’t know. When your brain is heated with the insanity of your first visit to Central Park, your wallet is no longer sacred.

Poor Jacob. The version of the story that Jacob tells younger audiences is that Shirtless “gave him a hug,” which is a much nicer—if totally inaccurate—version of what actually happened. The truth was much more NC-17, unfortunately. But let's move on to something more family-friendly...

Our first Broadway show of the trip was…MARY POPPINS! Full of “magic” and great performances. =) It was a perfect first show…nothing terrible, nothing particularly mind-blowing, but a wonderfully enjoyable evening nonetheless. It was also in the New Amsterdam Theatre, which I’ll write more about later. Jacob and I especially loved the actor who played Burt (Gavin Lee), and the actress who played Miss Andrew (Ruth Gottschall). Favorite numbers include Miss Andrew’s number “Brimstone and Treacle,” and “Steppin’ Time.” Here’s the greatest tragedy of all time, though. Jacob had to go to the bathroom, and left the theatre right before “Steppin’ Time” and came back right after it was over. I actually cried a little bit. It was, in my opinion, the best number of the whole show, and it broke my heart a thousand times over that he missed it! But let us not dwell on regrets. I don’t think I’ll be over it for another few years, but I’ll work on it.

Apparently, the Broadway production was “lightened up” a great deal, compared to the London production. The British version of the show is much darker and a little scarier in a lot of ways. But too many American kids lacked the stiff upper lip to deal with it, so they lightened it up. There was still one pretty creepy number when all the toys come alive at night. A common and not necessarily scary idea, but these toys were the broken, misused, abused and neglected toys that the Banks children needed to learn a lesson from. The beginning of this number also had the one magic trick that I cannot, to this day, figure out. There were a lot of things, like the magic carpet bag, and the bed appearing out of nowhere, that I figured out. But before the toys-coming-to-life number, Mary Poppins takes a broken doll and puts it in a dollhouse, then closes the dollhouse. The dollhouse is on a table, raised above the ground about a foot. It is away from all walls. About four seconds after she puts the doll into the dollhouse, a person dressed as the doll comes out of the dollhouse. I’m sure that the way this was done is common knowledge to any magician reading this, but I cannot figure it out.

The last time I went to New York, I learned a million important things about performing. But I’ve learned a lot of other things in the five and a half years since I’ve been to Broadway, and this time around, I learned a lot about tech theatre. I spent half of the show paying attention to the acting, and spent the other half figuring out how they were doing things, and thinking of ways they could be adapted to a high school or even college stage. Because really, the only difference between Broadway and the rest of the world is the amount of money they have. And the size of the house. But there are a lot of things that you could totally do in a college or even a high school, if you had the right resources. You probably couldn’t have someone tap dance on the ceiling (like Burt did in “Steppin’ Time”), but there was a scene where the kids are “helping” in the kitchen, and everything turns into a disaster! The faucet explodes (steam/stage fog, not water), the table cracks in half, plates roll down the shelf on the wall, etc. And it would be complex, but totally doable. That was a fun thing to learn.

James Best, an old friend from BYU-I (and currently a long-distance poetry mentor), came to the show, and afterwards hung out with us in the lobby of the hotel and talked for a while. It was James, Omar and Lori Hansen, Sam, and Jacob and I, and it was one of those great intellectual conversations we Bohemian types like to have…about art and truth and beauty and being open-minded. ☺ After about 45 minutes though, I though my stomach would start consuming itself, so Sam and Jacob and I headed to a little shop called Europan for some dessert/baked goods. Europan became a regular hang-out for the rest of the trip after that. It was after 11 when we walked the two blocks to the shop, and all of the garbage was piled up on the curbs. I remember that from being here in 2005, and somehow it was one of the things I loved and missed most about NYC. Strange, and kinda gross, but so distinctly Manhattan that I came to feel a sort of affection for it. And the night was humid and rainy and hot, just like the nights were in September of 2005, and I loved it.

The other thing I love about New York is walking and hearing snippets of conversation. My favorite quote from Day One was “I don’t like her around no more because she uses f***ing a** bad language all the time!”

The evening ended with me sitting in our window and looking out into Times Square, two blocks away, a la “Lost in Translation” or “Breakfast at Tiffany’s.” (Believe me, I was aware of and working the film references.) Our hotel room was right in the middle of the “U” shape of the building, and we could see into the streets below. Not details, but there was enough “scope for the imagination” in it for us.

Delay Numero Two

2011-04-25T16:06:00.001-07:00

Okay people. Here's the thing. I took notes during our whole New York trip. The writer in me couldn't resist. And I'm in the process of creating a travel diary from those notes. But I'm writing it mostly for my own journaling benefit, and planned on just sharing it here as well as a convenient way to share the trip with you.

But I'm only on day two, and my travel diary is 8 pages long, single-spaced, not including pictures. And it's not all just boring details...a lot of it is my thoughts on different things and small experiences. But to be honest, I don't know that I care to post something that long and detailed on my blog. So I'm thinking highlights, yes? Now I just have to decide on what constitutes a highlight. Maybe I'll just post the whole thing anyway? I'll keep you posted.

Anyway, that's the reason for the delay. If you have any strong opinions about whether I should post highlights only or the whole thing, let me know. Either way, I'll be posting one or two days at a time. In a few days.

In the meantime, here's one of my favorite pictures of the trip. This is in Central Park. The photograph is entitled "The Circle of Life." An appropriately themed picture for the day after Easter, no?

Tales of New York

2011-04-20T14:10:00.000-07:00

This is not the blog entry you've been waiting for. This is merely an announcement that the blog you've been waiting for will be posted shortly. I'm working on writing about the trip in great detail, but I keep getting distracted by naps and books and laundry and kissing my husband. But coming soon:

- The tale of Liz trying on an $11,000 Oscar de la Renta dress
- Reviews of seven Broadway productions
- A ghost story about the New Amsterdam theatre
- Chance encounters with unexpected people

Recent discoveries

2011-04-06T13:54:00.003-07:00

1. The Pyramid Code. I love Netflix Instant Viewing so much. This is a five-part documentary about the ancient Egyptians. Parts of it were SUPER "out there," and I think the writers were trying a little too hard at times to go for the conspiracy theory angle, but there was a lot of interesting information. Very mind and eye-opening.

2. Playing Lucky in Waiting for Godot can be summed up with the following quote from Nathan Lane about Beckett: "It's one thing to look at it on the page, but then you try to do it and you think 'Well, this is impossible!'" Deep down, I do have confidence in my ability to do this. But just because you believe that you're capable of scaling Mt. Everest doesn't make it easy.

3. Scrabble against robots on Pogo.com. I get my butt kicked nine out of ten times. But I'm still enjoying it!

4. Puppetry. AMAZING puppetry. SERIOUSLY. Watch this video.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------->
It's a TED talk, so it's about 20 minutes, but if you don't have that time, watch from 9:20 to about 11:00. This is an example of the puppetry used in War Horse, one of the plays we're seeing when we go to New York. (In four days.)

5.

There are times when the "off-brand" rises above and provides something beautiful. These are some of the creamiest peanut-butter cups I've ever tasted. I mean, I'm looking forward to eating in New York and everything, but these are pretty good at tiding me over.

It's a helluva town!

2011-03-31T09:00:00.003-07:00

Know what hasn't quite sunk in yet? The fact that Jacob and I are going to New York City with the theatre department. In, like, TEN DAYS. Wanna know what we're doing?

Sunday, April 10th
- Red-eye flight from Salt Lake, arriving at JFK at some ridiculous hour like 5 am

Monday, April 11th
- Take a nap (Which Roger says is against the rules, but if I don't, I'll regret it for the rest of the week. Besides, I can take a 4-hour nap when we get there, and STILL be up at 11 am, and have the rest of the day to play.)
- See Mary Poppins

Tuesday, April 12th
- Visit the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island
- See Spiderman: Turn Off the Dark as a group. (Hopefully. If it's open. If not, we're going to see Arcadia as a group.)

Wednesday, April 13th
- Visit the Museum of Natural History
- See the matinee of War Horse as a group. (EDIT: If you haven't yet watched that video up there of the puppetry used, watch it. Right now.)
- EDIT: Attend a talk-back session with the creators of War Horse!
- See Anything Goes (with Sutton Foster and Joel Grey!)

Thursday, April 14th
- Visit the MOMA
- See Billy Elliott

Friday, April 15th
- Visit Central Park (the Imagine Circle) and the Metropolitan Museum of Art
- Do readings/"singings" of a professor's original work at the Dramatist's Guild (where I will be reprising my role as Faith Martin from Pioneer Song)
- Listen to this guy play at Birdland

Saturday, April 16th
- EDIT: Go out to breakfast with my sister Isha
- Liz sees a matinee of The Importance of Being Earnest while Jacob goes on a man-date with our friend Jerry to see The Phantom of the Opera
- See How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying (with Daniel Radcliffe!)
- Go to the top of the Empire State Building and look over everywhere we've been

Sunday, April 17th
- Visit Ground Zero
- Fly home, happily exhausted

Also, somewhere in there is shopping at awesome places, eating at wonderful restaurants, and seeing friends like Jeff and Val and James and maybe even my sister. =)

Wait for it...

2011-03-30T14:34:00.003-07:00

ANNOUNCING:

The Cast List for

Samuel Beckett's Waiting for Godot,

to be performed at BYU-Idaho

May 31 - June 11

Vladimir: Jordan Tait

Estragon: Jacob Chapman

Pozzo: Katie Ludlow

Lucky: Liz Chapman

Messenger: Emily Bowers

(Wooo hoooo!!! I get to be in a cast with a bunch of my favorite people! Also, I don't think I've ever been more intimidated by a role in my life, but if the director believes in me, I'll believe in me...)

(Oh, and the only lame thing is that it means we won't be going to Sasquatch Festival. As lame as that is, I'm kind of okay with it. This here's the opportunity of a LIFETIME!)

Hey you!

2011-03-28T12:47:00.000-07:00

(A reminder to self:)

If you're at school at BYU-Idaho right now, I am issuing a solemn imperative to keep cool and carry on. You'll be working against yourself if you stress. There's plenty of time to get everything done.

AND you don't have to worry about clean-checks. Ha!

Hipster Philanthropy

2011-03-25T18:51:00.000-07:00

“I always wanted to be a hippie, but I could never get myself to…buy the shoes.” –Jacob Chapman, 2010

Jacob and I each got our first pair of TOMS shoes this week. I’m in love with mine already. Not only are my feet ridiculously comfortable, but I also get to be a smug hipster who carries a fulfilling sense of self-righteousness, because when I buy one pair of shoes, TOMS donates a pair to a child in need.

Maybe I'm feeling preemptively defensive because of a gnawing realization that I just spent a LOT of money on shoes. And because the whole "smug hipster" thing is really just high school cliques in different costumes, and I don't want to be aligned with that. But if I truly don't want to get into social cliques, then I will wear the shoes I want to regardless of their connotations. So I'm wearing the shoes.

Are you judging me, Anti-Hipster Philanthropy Individual? Let's discuss the issue.

ANTI-HIPSTER PHILANTHROPY INDIVIDUAL: TOMS is exploiting poverty to make money for their own business.

ME: I think I’d agree with you more if the company started selling shoes and then one day up and decided to do this “one for one” deal. But the company was founded after Blake Mycoskie was on a trip to Argentina and discovered that many of the children there had no shoes. Wanting to do something, he founded TOMS. I really don’t feel like poverty is being exploited for marketing…I feel like the people at TOMS really do care, and really do want to make a difference. And when it comes right down to it, they ARE making a difference! I’d rather a company give charitably for the wrong reason than not give at all. I’m pretty sure that those kids who benefit from this program are just grateful to have shoes. And if TOMS’ first priority was making money, they probably wouldn’t donate over half of it. (A percentage of sales is donated to charity, in addition to each pair of shoes in the “one for one” program.)

ANTI-HIPSTER PHILANTHROPY INDIVIDUAL: TOMS ships in goods for free that outcompete local goods, threatening local economies/businesses; a “short-term solution that could create long-term problems.” It’s the “Whites in Shining Armor” thing.

ME: TOMS works with NGO partners at all of their donating locations, and stay out of the way if cheap shoes are available to those who need them. TOMS also has factories in Ethiopia, China, and Argentina to help create local jobs and stimulate local economy. AND they don’t employ children and they pay fair wages.

ANTI-HIPSTER PHILANTHROPY INDIVIDUAL: People need medicine and food…why are we sending them freaking SHOES?!

ME: Okay okay. You have a point. People DO need those things. But there are a lot of organizations that are addressing those needs, and people need shoes too. That’s just where TOMS has chosen to focus. Why? Shoes protect children from disease and infection contracted through soil or broken glass/garbage. Many HIV positive children in other countries are at huge risk of infection from walking around barefoot. Another issue is education. Many schools require shoes as part of their school uniforms…no shoes, no education. Once children have shoes, they are able to create incredible opportunities for themselves, starting with just an elementary education. And if a kid has to walk five miles barefoot to GET medicine, wouldn’t it be nice if he or she could avoid contracting disease on the way?

ANTI-HIPSTER PHILANTHROPY INDIVIDUAL: It makes way more sense to just buy a cheap pair of used shoes and donate them. Or to just send the money to some global relief organization.

ME: But the thing is, are you going to? Are you REALLY going to put your old shoes in a box and mail them to Ethiopia? I don’t mean to sound judgmental, and I’ll admit my argument on this issue is pandering to humanity’s sense of laziness. But TOMS has a working framework already in place for the most efficient giving. They make shoes to order…addressing the specific needs of specific children (black shoes for school uniforms, size 4, thicker soles to protect from broken glass in the city, etc.). You COULD reinvent the wheel and come up with a program that is completely non-profit and just as efficient. But TOMS is doing a lot of good, and it’s easy to participate. If you wanted to do the same thing that TOMS is doing on an individual basis, you could go to Payless, find a comfy $20 pair of shoes for yourself, contact someone in Ethiopia, ask the shoe size and specific need of one child there, buy them a $20 pair of shoes that meets their needs, then send it to Ethiopia and hope it gets there. Or you could just buy some TOMS and all that is done. Painless charity! (Catering to human selfishness may be hypocritical here, but I’m just trying to address the issue.)

ANTI-HIPSTER PHILANTHROPY INDIVIDUAL: Toms may seem like a “charitable organization,” but it’s still just a business. People think they’re part of something big and benevolent, but it’s just corporate America.

ME: I came across this comment on an online discussion about TOMS, which I thought addressed the issue rather articulately: “If TOMS is able to become a successful, profit making firm, than that could send a message to other corporations that charitable giving is more than just a way to increase good public relations. Currently, the predominating belief is that profit is the ultimate end of a corporation, and that a business manager's ultimate responsibility is to their shareholders. However, as we have seen, this can create an atmosphere that encourages greed and a lack of integrity with business practices. If TOMS is able to successfully generate profit using a business model that uses profit as a means to serve the community, than I believe that will create a greater change for good than the extra $20 you could be giving.” TOMS describes themselves as a profit-organization, with giving at its core. If that’s part of corporate America, I’m okay with that. I’d much prefer successful businesses that change the world for the better, and supporting TOMS is part of calling for that change. And I like to think that “big and benevolent” and “corporate America” don’t necessarily have to be mutually exclusive.

ANTI-HIPSTER PHILANTHROPY INDIVIDUAL: Yeah, that whole “awareness activity”? That “One Day Without Shoes” thing? 100% marketing, you capitalist tool.

ME: Hey. I just want an excuse to walk around barefoot. Although, to be honest, I was a little uncomfortable with the premise. But I’ve decided that when people ask me about why I’m not wearing shoes, I’ll tell them about TOMS, but mention that there are a lot of other programs that help. I’ll also explain that I’m protesting against the greed-based corporate machine that forces toddlers to manufacture shoes in factories overseas for 12 hours a day with no food at $1 per week. Or something.

Really, I just want to be barefoot.

ANTI-HIPSTER PHILANTHROPY INDIVIDUAL: Okay, okay, you have a lot of valid points. It’s just that my own personal sense of integrity would feel injured if I bought and wore your stupid hipster charity shoes.

ME: That’s one argument I can totally respect. Live and let live, I say. I won’t judge you for NOT wearing TOMS, if you won’t judge me for wearing them.

Because they are damn comfortable.

On gunfire

2011-03-22T20:06:00.000-07:00

My dad works for the State Department. Which is pretty cool. He's good at his job, and life never gets monotonous.

Which can occasionally be a bad thing.

Like when there are shoot-outs at their house.

The State Department tries to put their employees in decent houses. But, like my dad says, the problem is that drug lords like nice houses too. The hill behind my parents' house is referred to by consulate workers as "the killing field." Just one of the hazards of the job, I guess.

Anyway, one drug cartel made a hit on another this past Friday. Thank the Lord (literally, really) that both Dad and Mary were in North Dakota at the time.

Most of the time, I'm not scared about my family's safety. The State Department knows how to take care of their own, and my parents are smart people, and extremely dangerous situations really aren't super common. They have a safe room. And an alarm system. And walkie-talkies. But I do always have my cell phone with me. And after seeing these pictures, I'll be mentioning Dad and Mary's safety a little more often in my prayers.

Dad's Report: "When we got home Sunday night, we saw the damage from the shooting. These are photos of the house directly across the street from us, as well as some of the damage to our house. We were blessed - really - to be out of town at a funeral when it happened early Friday morning. There is not much damage to our house because it was pretty one-sided, more of an assassination than a shootout. The hit men stood on the hill alongside our house and fired more than a thousand large calibre rounds into the house across the street, then went in and finished them off. As they sprayed bullets at the neighbor, they also ended up hitting our house, an old satellite dish on our roof, and tore through the fence, fence posts, power, cable, and phone lines. The consulate staff picked up more than 100 spent cartridges in our patio."

The house across the street (picture taken from my parents' house).

The Whittaker home doesn't look nearly as bad, but still...

This is on their roof.

Bullets embedded in the walls of my parent's house, and holes in their chain link fence.

At first I wasn't sure why I was posting this. (Maybe to brag about what a dangerous and exciting career my dad has...) But as I was looking at these pictures and preparing to post them, I realized what it was I wanted to say. The thing that this experience, indirect though it was, has done for me is that it has made violence real.

I grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area. I'm not a complete STRANGER to violence. But this is something different. Often in film and television, we see these glorious shoot-outs, these twenty car pile-ups, these bombs and fist fights. And I'm not against those things in film and television ALL THE TIME. But I am against them being treated casually. Because shoot outs HAPPEN. And there is nothing casual about it. There is an inherent disregard for humanity in treating violence casually. And if you ask me, disregarding humanity isn't usually a good thing for civilization, the earth, families, etc. I think that violence can be used effectively in film, even if its extreme. (The Godfather, Bonnie and Clyde, and The Dark Knight come to mind.) Because in those films, the violence is used as part of the warning in the story...to establish the "bad guy," to make you cringe and think "There is no need for this!" (I think it's also possible in dark parodies/satires for violence to be used effectively, although deciding about that exception is a lot more subjective.) But when the "good guys" are the ones with the guns, I think we've got a problem. Guns shouldn't be entertaining. We should think more about the violence that we allow into our hearts, whether through film or television or theatre or music or our own thoughts.

But that's just me.

Counting Down

2011-03-17T10:52:00.001-07:00

There are only three weeks left of the semester. And I'm trying to live in the moment, but I've got big plans for when it's done.

For the first week after school is done, I'm going to New York City. More on that later.

For the second week after school is done, I'm going to sleep.

For the third week after school is done, I'm going to clean my house from top to bottom.

Then I'm going to spend the rest of the spring/summer reading whatever I want, writing a lot, possibly doing some copy-editing, possibly running a henna body art business, and helping to plan and run a theatre camp for high school students.

A Call to Blogging Women

2011-03-15T19:54:00.000-07:00

The blog world is a strange place. At least it can be. I've noticed lately a phenomenon in the "Mormon Housewife Blog World," and I care enough about it to make my voice heard on the matter.

Have you ever seen the movie "Mean Girls"? With Lindsay Lohan and Rachel McAdams and Tina Fey? It's not normally the kind of movie I go for, but there's so much truth in the satire that I can't help but adore it. "Girl World" is depicted in all of it's terrifying, back-biting, disrespectful potential. And here's the problem I'm seeing.

The Mormon Housewife Blogosphere shouldn't ever resemble "Girl World." There are too many people being hurt by misinterpreted comments, snide entries, and rude opinions. This is not becoming of Christian women.

So I issue a call. It's a call to myself, as well, since I am far from being the righteous, caring, upstanding Christian woman I'd like to be. My own blogging history is proof that I haven't always been trying. And I understand the occasional need to vent. But if you must vent publicly, remember that doing so should never come at the cost of others. No one should be made to feel hurt by the things you say. You can't try to keep everyone happy; it's true that some may just be offended. But speak with compassion. Write with kindness.

I call upon the Mormon Housewife Blogosphere to cast off girlhood, to stand and be women.
I call upon women to think before they type, and to speak words that uplift and inspire.
I call upon each of us to allow human feeling to guide our blogging, not how many followers we get, or how funny something may be, or how irritated we are at something. If it comes at the feelings of others, it is better left un-blogged/un-commented.
I call upon the women of this Church to write the things of our truest hearts and souls and minds. To be the strong, intelligent, compassionate women we have the potential to be.
I call upon every blogging Mormon woman to write things that the late Sis. Hinckley would not be ashamed or saddened to read.
I call upon each of us to stand taller, to rise above the things that hold us down. Let us make a world where we may lift one another up, mourn with those that mourn, and rejoice with those who rejoice.

"Awake, my [daughters]; put on the armor of righteousness. Shake off the chains with which ye are bound, and come forth out of obscurity, and arise from the dust." -- 2 Ne 1:23

Out.

2011-03-11T22:11:00.000-07:00

This is me officially checking out early for the semester. This usually happens every winter...a few weeks before the end of the semester, I surrender to the spring fever that's been dancing in my bones, and I just sort of coast through the remaining weeks. I won't outright GIVE UP...I'll follow through with my commitments. But my heart and at least half of my mind will be in the sunny hills somewhere.

Words to make you smile to bursting

2011-03-09T22:09:00.000-07:00

“Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but...she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

…

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

…

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes.”

-- Rosemary Urquico

via A New Beginning

My body is begging for nutrients

2011-03-05T16:05:00.001-07:00

I drove to Broulims and bought 5 donuts* for breakfast this morning.

In my defense, they were going to be shared with two other people. But as I was walking out of the store, there was a troupe of Girl Scouts, with those lovely boxes set out on their table.

And those scouts just looked so little, and so cold, and those cookies looked so delightful...

So I bought a box of Lemon Chalet Cremes and a box of Samoas.

Today has not been a healthy day, food-wise. Sorry, body.

*Donuts will be my weakness for as long as I live. They have been since before grade school.

Say cheese.

2011-03-03T10:19:00.001-07:00

Tax return = NEW CAMERA!

Prepare to be astounded by the awesome documentation of our awesome lives.

(But you can't be astounded until sometime between March 9th and 14th, because that's when UPS is bringing it.)

Also, isn't this little photographer guy darling? I want to hug him.

"Stress. It's a killer, sir." -Bartok

2011-02-28T21:04:00.000-07:00

But ya see, the problem is, when I'm stressed or busy, I lose my appetite. But my body still NEEDS nutrition, and I still feel all of the emotional signs of hunger (in my case, sensitivity and irritability), making dealing with stress more difficult.

*Sigh*

Could someone please bring me a steak dinner? Or maybe some Thai peanut curry?

2011-02-27T23:24:00.000-07:00

“Let’s be honest; it’s rather easy to be busy. We all can think up a list of tasks that will overwhelm our schedules. Some might even think that their self-worth depends on the length of their to-do list. They flood the open spaces in their time with lists of meetings and minutia—even during times of stress and fatigue. Because they unnecessarily complicate their lives, they often feel increased frustration, diminished joy, and too little sense of meaning in their lives.”
-- Dieter F. Uchtdorf, “Of Things That Matter Most” (October General Conference, 2010)

Thanks, Dieter. I needed that reminder. (And thanks to the guy at Stake Conference who shared this quote today.) And thanks to all of you for reminding me to not bite off more than I can chew.

Running faster than I have strength?

2011-02-26T00:23:00.000-07:00

Here are all the things I'm trying to balance this semester:

- Being the editor in chief of an online magazine
- Two online classes, both of which require weekly group meetings
- Acting II, which requires out-of-class rehearsal time
- Rhetoric class, for which I must read an average of two chapters/two essays per week, and write the equivalent of two essays per week
- Theatre Methods, which requires that I write ten detailed lesson plans before the end of the semester, and teach at least one of them
- Doing 20 hours of practicum work at local high schools before the end of the semester
- Helping to organize a summer theatre camp
- Working 20 hours a week, as a TA for an entire department/student secretary/script librarian
- Helping to keep a home in working order (dishes, laundry, etc)
- Singing in the stake choir
- Teaching the 7-year-olds in Sunday school
- Working out on a daily basis (I know this sounds shallow, but I'm trying to take better care of my body, and in the short term, I NEED endorphins to help me deal with Seasonal-Affective Disorder, so this can't be eliminated)

So with that in mind, is it super-mean of me to back out of a project I was just asked to do on Wednesday? If it will take an additional 10 hours a week, and if someone else could do it, and if the deadline is in a month?

I wanna say I'm completely justified, but I'm having an awfully hard time saying no. I'm probably gonna have to, though. Just writing out that list gave me a knot in my stomach. Remember how this time last year, I was trying to do this much, and ended up in the hospital with mono, tonsillitis, and a tonsillar stone? I'd really like to avoid a repeat of that kind of thing. Something on my to-do list has gotta go, and I can't think of anything else to eliminate.

So could you guys do me a favor? Could you please validate me? Okay, thanks.

By the pricking of my thumbs...

2011-02-24T10:04:00.000-07:00

(That's me on the far right. This was such an awesome show.)

If you can read this, thank a teacher!

2011-02-22T11:54:00.001-07:00

With all the current hullabaloo in Wisconsin, just keep this in mind. (I don't know enough about the debate in WI to have an opinion at the moment, but I know this much: Teachers are some of the hardest-working, most underpaid employees in the United States.)

"Teachers' hefty salaries are driving up taxes, and they only work 9 or 10 months a year! It's time we put things in perspective and pay them for what they do - babysit! We can get that for less than minimum wage.

That's right. Let's give them $3.00 an hour and only the hours they worked; not any of that silly planning time, or any time they spend before or after school. That would be $19.50 a day (7:45 to 3:00 PM with 45 min. off for lunch and plan-- that equals 6 1/2 hours).

Each parent should pay $19.50 a day for these teachers to baby-sit their children. Now how many students do they teach in a day...maybe 30? So that's $19.50 x 30 = $585.00 a day.

However, remember they only work 180 days a year!!! I am not going to pay them for any vacations.

LET'S SEE....

That's $585 X 180= $105,300 per year. (Hold on! My calculator needs new batteries).

What about those special education teachers and the ones with Master's degrees? Well, we could pay them minimum wage ($7.75), and just to be fair, round it off to $8.00 an hour. That would be $8 X 6 1/2 hours X 30 children X 180 days = $280,800 per year.

Wait a minute -- there's something wrong here! There sure is!

The average teacher's salary (nation wide) is $50,000. $50,000/180 days = $277.77/per day/30 students=$9.25/6.5 hours = $1.42 per hour per student--a very inexpensive baby-sitter and they even EDUCATE your kids!) WHAT A DEAL!!!!"

by Anonymous, via facebook

image via weheartit.com

Excuses, or "How Being a TA Has Changed Me"

2011-02-21T20:58:00.000-07:00

NOTE: If you're taking a class on campus, "The internet was out all week" is not a good excuse for not doing your homework. Especially since the internet has worked, on campus, all week.

More on Writing

2011-02-17T15:18:00.002-07:00

Write. Even if it's no good. You don't have to show people everything you write. Writing has more purposes than just recording something to be read. I'm all for free-writing. (Don't, you know, turn it in and call it an academic essay. But don't be afraid to just WRITE first and refine later, instead of trying to do them both at once.)

"Would God have given us a mind if he'd wanted us to waste all this paper writing down what's wrong or badly put? But that internal thinking process lacks a dimension which writing provides. When we just think inside our heads, the cycle of language is incomplete; we are prey to obsession. The thoughts, sentences, images, or feelings that play in our heads continue to play round and round. But when we write down those thoughts or feelings, the sterile circle is often broken: they have a place on paper now; they evolve into another thought or even fade away. Writing is a way to get what is inside one's head outside, on paper, so there's room for more."
--Peter Elbow, "The Shifting Relationships Between Speech and Writing"

Writing is the Muggle Pensieve.

The Writer.

2011-02-16T13:05:00.000-07:00

My rhetoric teacher assigned us a short essay on our biggest influences in reading and writing. This is mine.

"I am writing a book which will be read by thousands, or, I modestly hope, by tens of thousands. So, please, get out of the room. I want to be alone. Writing normally calls for some kind of withdrawal." --Walter J. Ong

My parents tell a story about a time when they found me, at age two, sitting in my bed with a copy of “The Nose Book,” flipping the pages and reciting to myself the words I remembered them saying. While I didn’t get them all quite right (the words, that is), it was apparent that I had inherited Mom and Dad’s love of reading.

My childhood was lived in our apartment, at the park, and at the Fremont Public Library, with the round reading room, and that book about the chameleon who got trapped in a pickle factory. Some nights, my mother would tell us stories about a little girl named Annie, and her magic hat that could temporarily transform her into anything in the world. She didn’t have a choice as to what she would become, but she could always take the hat off and return if things got hairy.

My life was filled with literature from the day I was born.

While my tastes grew from The Nose Book to The Baby-sitters Club to The Top 500 Poems (ed. William Harmon), my own authorial instincts grew. I wrote short stories (about kittens), began novels (about mermaids), and composed poems (about camping equipment and summer storms). I think I always saw myself as a writer. But in 8th grade, Mrs. Monroe once scribbled a line or two of praise on a poem I had done for an assignment. And suddenly, with that one line, I wasn’t just a writer to myself, I was a writer to the world!

So I kept writing. I organized a binder for all my poetry, and add to it at least monthly. I became a religious journaler, and my collection of journal volumes is still growing. I started a blog [this one!] as a simultaneously more public journal, where I can also publish poems and the few short stories I attempt (mostly so that James or Valerie Best will read and critique/validate them). A year ago, I began a short novel, but, true to the cliché, have tabled it until further notice.

I saw Mrs. Monroe a year after I graduated high school. I was working at Staples; she was buying pencils. I told her I was going to major in Theatre Education. She smiled. “I always thought you’d be a writer.”

I guess I still can be.

Sooo...you like cloth?

2011-02-14T06:00:00.006-07:00

Hey! I'm married! It's my first Valentine's Day with a permanent significant other! So that's nice. But the part of me that's been celebrating "Singles Awareness Day (S.A.D.)" on February 14th for the last ten years just can't get into a mainstream Hallmark holiday. I love my husband dearly and am thrilled to be sharing this holiday with him, but I refuse to conform. So here's my V-day celebration post. A little early-2000's throwback.* I'm glad I got my own TECH-NO-LOGICAL-RO-MANCE. Full bars.

*Can something that recent be considered a "throwback"?

Live to read, read to live

2011-02-10T11:14:00.003-07:00

My good friend Sarah recently posted on her blog about the uplifting power of good books, especially in low times. She asked for recommendations of what to read next, and I started to comment with my ideas, but decided to share them with the world instead.

So here's my list! These are some of my favorite "cold-weather reads"...books that have the power to just sweep you into their world and lift up your winter heart. Some I read regularly, some I've read only once. A lot of them are feminine, young adult novels, but not the cotton-candy kind. May you find something to combat the cold weather with here.

HEARTENING BOOKS FOR WHEN WINTER IS HARD

Anne of the Island by L.M. Montgomery (third book in the Anne of Green Gables series, and by far my favorite)

Book of a Thousand Days by Shannon Hale (along the same vein as Ella Enchanted, although maybe not quite as brilliant)

Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine (a classic)

An Abundance of Katherines by John Green (wonderful if you're looking for a laugh...this book is hilarious!)

Abarat by Clive Barker (much more adventurous...this book is Alice in Wonderland meets some version of Alice in Wonderland that has a scary bad guy that's always after Alice)

The Whistling Toilets by Randy Powell (similar to An Abundance of Katherines, this book is hilarious and delightful and I have a crush on the narrator)

A High Wind in Jamaica by Richard Hughes (written during the late 1800's, the writing style is a little bit more demanding, but the prose and the story are BRILLIANT...about a group of pirates who somehow get stuck with a handful of British children, and it's based on a true story)

Twilight Series by Stephanie Meyer (all y'all can judge all you want, and I'll agree that the writing isn't perfect, but these books really can cast a spell)

The Harry Potter Series by J.K. Rowling (the ole stand-by)

Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl (a little heavier of a read, but I'm still always inspired by this young girl's spirit and courage)

The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd (there are very few books out there that celebrate the female spirit in such a holistic and non-confrontational way)

Little Women by Louisa May Alcott (lovely lovely, always)

A Long Way from Chicago by Richard Peck (an episodic novella about a cantankerous ole grandma who does a lot of good in the world)

Tuck Everlasting by Natalie Babbit (very short read but full of some GORGEOUS writing)

Ahab's Wife by Sena Jeter Naslund (a little on the heavier side, but this book is one of the most intriguing and wonderful books I've ever read)

Anything by Ray Bradbury
Anything by E.L. Konisburg

Happy reading!

Isn't it lovely that in only a few more months, reading can look like this?

Keep your eye on the goal, dear readers. Winter can't last forever.

all images via weheartit

Out of the frying pan

2011-02-09T23:35:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, the car wouldn't start. This is the third time this has happened this semester.

Today, the car starts but was taken in anyway, where we were charged $40 for no definite answers regarding the actual starting up problem.

Today, I fixed our dryer. Replaced the heating element and felt awesome. Did one and a half loads of laundry to celebrate.

Would have done two, but...

The washer broke. It is now filled with several gallons of water. After reaching into the FREEZING water and wringing out an entire load of laundry, by hand, we put half in the dryer and half to hang dry around the house.

That, my current hormone levels, and the toughest academic semester of my career, has left me pretty emotional. So if you don't see me tomorrow, I'm probably at home, eating my way through a gallon of ice cream and watching documentaries on Netflix Instant Viewing.

Jacob's been a trooper, btw. I can't imagine what I would have done without him the last few days.

Non-seismic T-shirts

2011-02-08T22:45:00.001-07:00

Yeah, no earthquake. Whatever.

In other news, I would like all of these shirts, please. In women's, medium sizes.

via EvieTees

and also this person

Especially the two on the right.

Human Seismography

2011-02-07T19:18:00.000-07:00

Neither Jacob nor I slept well last night. Jacob's getting over a cold, so that makes sense, but I'm normally a heavy enough sleeper that his tossing and turning doesn't affect me too much. But around 4:30 this morning, he gave up and got out of bed, and I lay in bed and continued to toss and turn myself. When I got to my first class (10:15), one of my classmates laid her head on her desk and bemoaned her inability to sleep the previous night. I told her I had had the same problem! More and more classmates piped up with similar stories...one girl explaining that her whole apartment was awake at around 6 because they just couldn't sleep. People who usually sleep soundly tossed and turned. Granted, it wasn't everyone, but I've been asking people all day (in person and via facebook), and for every 1 person who reported sleeping well, there were at least 3 who reported the opposite. Folks from Yellowstone to Rexburg just couldn't catch any shut-eye.

Being a scientist (at heart), I have formulated the following hypotheses:

Possibility One: The leftover excitement from the Superbowl created a cosmic wave of energy that caused excessive alertness (unlikely).

Possibility Two: The barometric pressure changes in Rexburg affected everyone's ability to sleep (pretty likely -- we all left our homes this morning to find a bizarre snow/sleet/ice/mist thing going on).

Possibility Three: We were all attuned to slight seismic variations and/or changes in earth's electromagnetic field and there's going to be an earthquake in the next few days (awesome)!!!

Maybe it's my "Natural Disasters" class this semester that's causing me to look to geology for explanations. A friend in West Yellowstone reported that there was a small quake south of the park yesterday, but I'm having trouble finding information on it. (I'll keep you posted.)

The point is this. When Rexburg gets hit by an earthquake in the next few days, you all remember that I called it.

(Please bless that it's smaller than about a 4 magnitude. We can handle that, and the Yellowstone area could use the "release.")

Perspective

2011-02-05T23:50:00.000-07:00

I was just checking the weather forecast for the coming week, and rejoiced because it will still be on the warm side tomorrow!

And then I thought, "Huh. Right. I live in a place where a high of 26 degrees is 'on the warm side.'" And after last week's cold snap, it really is.

Wanna see what last week did to the INSIDE of our bedroom windows? I found this on Thursday (you know, that day that was a full ten degrees warmer than the day before?). This picture was taken a full four hours after the sun had risen and started to melt all of it.

And THAT is why I make a crazy plan for a vacation to Florida/California/Hawai'i at least once a week during winter.

Remember when this happened?

2011-02-03T09:58:00.000-07:00

This was a pretty good day - February 3, 2010.

First of all, my husband is awesome. He played the drunken porter in Macbeth. Wanna see?

And one time, during dress rehearsal of Macbeth, this happened.

That was awesome. I'm so glad he asked, and I'm so glad I answered yes.

HAPPY PROPOSAL-VERSARY, JACOB!

The "Information Age"

2011-01-31T23:04:00.000-07:00

I happened to glance at my living room floor the other day, and it struck me as a good illustration of our times:

The Arena

2011-01-30T15:41:00.002-07:00

I had a really interesting dream last night, and I wanted to capture it somehow, so I wrote out this little script this afternoon. I'm not sure if it means anything, but there was enough literary meat there to make a decent meal. (I've become rather heavy-handed/misguided in my metaphors lately, but don't worry, there aren't any metaphors in the following script.) (Oh, and Carrie, the other part of the dream was that you and Scott had a son, and he had red hair. Your son, I mean. Bets on if that comes true?)

ALL THE BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE
or THE BACHELOR

An indoor soccer arena. The stands are filled, and there are people standing on the edges of the field. ELAINE and JOSHUA (husband and wife) walk in and find a place against the wall. As close friends of DANIEL, they have VIP pins on their shirts. A girl named JESSIE stands nearby. She is average height, but round. She dresses about 10 years behind current fashion, and her hair is pulled back into a ponytail with a scrunchy. One can tell she lacks confidence, mostly because of her weight. Her friends are fixing her hair, and one of them pulls the scrunchy off and replaces it with a ribbon. She is constantly fidgeting and keeps looking up at the banner of DANIEL’s face hung at one end of the arena.

ELAINE: (to JESSIE) You nervous?

JESSIE: (nodding) I talked with him yesterday.

ELAINE: Yeah?

JESSIE: I don’t know if he’d remember me, but I…(glances up at the banner, and then at ELAINE. Something in ELAINE’s face invites a sudden confidence)…but I think I’ve loved him for as long as I can remember.

ELAINE: Did you know him? I mean, before all this?

JESSIE: We went to school together. He used to call me “Piglet.” (looks down) I don’t have any hope that he’d…you know, that he’d…pick me. But I just wanted to…

ELAINE: …say good-bye?

JESSIE: (tears fill her eyes) I was going to say wish him luck, but…I guess that’s it too.

Suddenly the crowd starts cheering madly, and DANIEL walks out into the arena, through a door right between ELAINE and JESSIE. JESSIE frantically wipes her tears away, and pulls on her shirt self-consciously.

DANIEL: Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming out here today to witness this! This has been an incredible journey, and I have met some truly beautiful women. (winks at a few) I’m sure you’re all waiting to find out my choice. There have been many incredible options, but I have chosen (walks toward JESSIE) someone who’s got all the goodness of the world in her heart! (takes JESSIE in his arms and kisses her, the crowd cheers madly and camera lights flash) Yes, yes. The future is beautiful. And I can’t wait (leans in towards ELAINE seductively, ELAINE backs away and gives him a “Really?” eye roll) to discover all the beauty the world has in store for me.

The crowd claps wildly. DANIEL waves and signs autographs. JESSIE has burst into tears, and is being led out of the arena by her ecstatic friends and several of DANIEL’s employees. Soon the arena is empty except for JOSHUA, ELAINE and DANIEL.

DANIEL: (to ELAINE) Well?

ELAINE: (arms folded in anger) Do you realize what you’ve just done?

DANIEL: What? Only made that little girl’s wildest dreams come true!

ELAINE: (almost under her breath) Yeah, because you’re just perfect, aren’t you?

DANIEL: She seems to think so.

ELAINE: (advancing angrily) You know what I hate?

DANIEL: (backing away) Wait a minute—

ELAINE: Come back here so I can hit you!

DANIEL: I just did a good thing out there!

ELAINE: (catching up and hitting his chest angrily) The worst thing about you good-looking people is that you don’t have to put any work into being perfect! (pushes him into the lobby) People just like you, and they don’t even know who you are!

DANIEL: Hey hey hey!

ELAINE: Do you love that girl?

DANIEL: What?

ELAINE: Do you love that girl?

DANIEL: Who cares?

DANIEL: She does, you asshole! Dammit, Daniel, everyone in the world is looking at you! You have—ugh! You have the opportunity of a lifetime. She worships the ground you walk on. You have the opportunity to make someone really happy. And you’re throwing it away. You’re taking that girl’s love and you’re throwing it away. In front of thousands of people.

DANIEL: She digs me. Who cares what else happens?

ELAINE: (turning away and shaking head)

DANIEL: (calling after her) I’m a frickin’ Samaritan, that’s what I am! Did you hear that clapping? I'm the greatest thing any of them have ever seen!

ELAINE: (turning back) Right. Tell her that when she finds out about your first affair.

DANIEL: (advancing seductively) And who will that be, I wonder…

ELAINE: Don’t you touch me. (pause) If you were as perfect as everyone thinks you are, you would go to that girl right now, and break it off.

DANIEL: But that’s—

ELAINE: Break it off, Daniel. (walks back into the arena for JOSHUA)

JOSHUA: Did he listen?

ELAINE: Don’t ask me that.

(JOSHUA and ELAINE walk out of the arena and out of the building, leaving DANIEL in the lobby)

Things that have inspired me today

2011-01-26T16:15:00.001-07:00

Watching the State of the Union 2011

Acting Class, and exercises in breaking down barriers and just being honest with other people

Jacob's sacrifices and hard work to get things done and make ends meet

These songs:

(They're two very different songs, but the Silverchair one is just so dynamic and interesting, and I want to make a short film that incorporates the "Home" one...keep your eyes peeled to see if that gets realized.)

Anyways. "There is beauty all around," as they say. Happy Wednesday.

But not a real green dress, that's cruel

2011-01-24T21:41:00.000-07:00

I know the way I dress doesn't make this fact immediately apparent, but I secretly love fashion. But more in a "look at beautiful things on Modcloth.com and in Vogue magazine" kind of a way, than in the "actually buying and wearing things" way. Anyway, sometimes I get consumer-lust, and I find fun things like these:

Don't they make you want to tap dance? I love the big ribbon tie and the texture detail.

A little Victorian throwback. I don't think I own a single thing that I could wear with these shoes, but I think they're gorgeous. And perfect for Rexburg winter Sundays! (I'm also looking at these and thinking that they could be made at home, given the right supplies and a Saturday afternoon.)

And how fun are the ruffles on this dress! I don't know if the top would be particularly flattering on me, but I love the texture and layering on the skirt. If I owned this dress, I would want to go dancing every single weekend.

Too bad I don't have a million dollars to drop on clothes.

Although, to be honest, if I had a lot of extra money to drop, I'd probably drop it on one of these.

Things that Jacob's done lately that I've liked

2011-01-20T20:30:00.001-07:00

Played with Baby Jack, which is always fun to watch. (It included playing the electric guitar for him and teaching him how to dance to it, as this photo is evidence of.)

Told me I was beautiful at least once a day

Celebrated my announcement of "I'm sleepy" by impersonating a low-energy, but very feminine cheerleader ("Hoooorraaay!") (Maybe you had to be there...)

Gotten a slide for his guitar and started to learn how to use it.

Walked from the kitchen into the living room where I was doing homework and said "I know it smells like something's on fire, but I have everything under control."

I sure like that guy. I'm glad I get to spend forever with him.

The beginning

2011-01-18T20:16:00.001-07:00

The winter blues have officially settled into my bones. Everything is blue blue blue gray gray gray. The only things I think about eating are warm, calorie-rich baked goods, and I wake up every morning longing for the enveloping warmth of the shower. And I get annoyed with showering most of the time.

It's only the middle of January. How will I last until May?

I sing the body

2011-01-18T13:27:00.001-07:00

"I marvel at the miracle of the human mind and body. Have you ever contemplated the wonders of yourself, the eyes with which you see, the ears with which you hear, the voice with which you speak? No camera ever built can compare with the human eye. No method of communication ever devised can compare with the voice and the ear. No pump ever built will run as long or as efficiently as the human heart. No computer or other creation of science can equal the human brain. What a remarkable thing you are. You can think by day and dream by night. You can speak and hear and smell. Look at your finger. The most skillful attempt to reproduce it mechanically has resulted in only a crude approximation. The next time you use your finger, watch it, look at it, and sense the wonder of it. You are a child of God, His crowning creation."
--Gordon B. Hinckley, "The Body Is Sacred," The New Era, Nov 2006

Big news

2011-01-14T23:45:00.001-07:00

Jacob's financial aid came in.

It's final. We're going to New York City with the BYU-Idaho Theatre Department in April.

*

Oh, and I didn't post pictures of the fact that we'll be eating wonderful food at delightful restaurants, or that we'll be doing readings of original works at the Guild, or that we'll visit the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island.

* I have a recurring fantasy that Daniel Radcliffe becomes really good friends with Jacob and I. I have such an older-sisterly affection for the fellow. I like to think my fantasy is valid because it's devoid of romantic content. I want to unofficially adopt Daniel into our family. You know, Sunday dinners and the like. Talks about acting. Is that creepy? Even if my intentions are pure?

Five-year-olds have the final word

2011-01-14T11:24:00.002-07:00

Jacob: Are you sick?
Miss K: I am!
Jacob: What do you have?
Miss K: Allergies.

“My tummy huwts. Maybe it’s time to eat somefing fow me.” – KidB

Jacob and Liz: (brief kiss)
Most kids: EEEwwww!
Queen Anne: I’ve seen kissing before! My aunt and my uncle!
A Team: Kissing is only in opera.

Liz: Oooh, cool drawing. Is this a planet?
A Team: Yes, and this has bombs. (walks away calmly)

“I popped up! Like a feather!” – Queen Anne

Jacob: You’re quick! Quick as a wink!
Kid B: Winks! waptors awe fastew than winks!
(I've been saying this at least once a week since it happened.)