Kid In The Front Row Blogathon -- My Favorite Book As A Child

So I read this blog called Kid In The Front Row.  Kid decided to hold a Blogathon today, and I jumped on the opportunity.  After all, since I usually have a hard time coming up with topics on my own, this would give me something to write about.  For this Blogathon, Kid asked us to reread our favorite book from our childhood and then write about it.

I don’t recall my favorite book from when I was a kid, and neither could my mother when I asked her.  I don’t think I even had one; I just liked to read anything and everything.  But when I was in about 6^th or 7^th grade, we read a book in my English class called “A Murder for Her Majesty”, by Beth Hilgartner.  I LOVED this book.  Unfortunately, I could only reread it so many times in the brief period we had them checked out to our class.  Then I had to suffer through not having the book until eventually I forgot about it for a while.  Several years later I remembered the book and how much I loved it, but couldn’t remember the title…then finally in my senior year of college, I remembered the title and author.  I immediately checked it out to reread it and loved it just as much as I had when I was a kid.  Then Kid asked us to reread our favorite childhood book again and share about the experience on the blog, and I welcomed the chance to do so.

A brief description of the book, for your benefit: “A Murder for Her Majesty” is a historical fiction novel set in Elizabethan England.  A girl named Alice Tuckfield witnesses two men murder her father, and she runs away to York, seeking help.  A group of boys finds her wandering the streets, and they decide to “adopt” her.  When they find out she has a beautiful singing voice, they dress her up as a boy called Pup and bring her to sing in the boys choir with them, keeping her true identity a secret so that her father’s murderers won’t be able to find her.  After a while the choir director notices her, and she fashions a male identity to hide under.  She begins taking classes with the boys and private lessons in voice and virginal.  But one of the conspirators to her father’s murder is a priest in the cathedral, and he begins to notice strange things about Pup.  Pup is in increasingly greater danger as Christmastime draws near, but she doesn’t know who to turn to for help.

I don’t want to spoil the ending, so I encourage you to check it out.  (Don't fret. It turns out all right in the end.)  There are many reasons why I loved and still love this book.  It is interesting and exciting, but in a realistic way.  Pup goes through real trials that fill you with the desire to help this poor girl in her difficult situation.  I can’t read it without becoming angry at her enemies for her sake.  The historical fiction is a fairly accurate representation of how the story might have occurred had it actually happened.  It is set in England, where I have always wanted to travel.  It has a boys choir, and those have always fascinated me.  Pup’s emotions are real and relatable, especially as she struggles to deal with the loss of her father and becoming an orphan.  She develops a strong bond to her friends in the boys choir, one where they can have a blast and she can count on them to help her when she’s in danger.  But I think the reason I love it so much is the music.

You see, in this book, Pup is the daughter of a talented musician who writes music for the Queen of England.  Though she keeps her father’s identity a secret, her schoolmasters at the cathedral recognize that she has a gift for music and are amazed at her talents.  Hilgartner puts so much music in this book, describing everything from the note progression to music theory to the wonder and beauty of music that resonates, that fills your heart and soul in such a way that it seems impossible.  It is so beautiful you feel like it will consume you; it is so beautiful it hurts.  Even thinking about it now fills me with wistfulness and longing to be a part of it.  I have loved music all my life; even as a child, I marveled at the miracle of music-making.  And this book reminds me of that.  The book does not play music for me to hear, but I can hear in my heart what Pup hears, what she learns, what she sings.  It is as though I am a part of her and the music.  This book almost makes me wish that I lived in that time, that I could learn about and study music to my heart’s content.

Of course, I know that I am much better off in many ways for my situation in 2011.  Even so, it brings me a sense of joy and fulfillment to go back and reread this book, to feel once again the emotions I felt as a child, to be reminded of the beauty of beautiful melodies and harmonies.  And it makes me think, once again, of my studies and my career.  Music doesn’t pay unless you’re John Williams or Yo-Yo Ma, and if you love something but you can’t make a living with it in this world, you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place.  So here I am, rereading a book that fueled my original love for music, preparing to go into a completely different field, wishing I could be like Pup and just spend all day every day with music.  I suppose I will have to live vicariously through her...aren't books where you can do that the best books to read?

Recent Pearls of Wisdom

Recent Pearls of Wisdom:

1. Ladies: You know how sometimes when you sling a purse over your shoulder, it doesn't like to stay there and slips down to to your elbow or your wrist? And then you have to keep pushing it back up to your shoulder, but it slips again? Did you ever notice that this usually happens when you're wearing a thicker jacket or coat, or a smoother material like leather? Yeah, it drives me crazy too. BUT, there's a solution. Simply get a jacket/coat that has one of those snap button random strips of material sewn into the top of the sleeve and snapping by the neck. Do you know what I mean? Here's a picture if you're lost...

Yeah, one of those. See, if you've got a jacket or coat with a strappy thingy on the shoulder, all you have to do is unsnap it, place the shoulder strap of your purse over your shoulder, and then snap it over the top, and voila! Your purse is now snapped into place on your shoulder and it won't fall off. I made this discovery today and I think it's going to change my life. Seriously. And I know you're all super excited about this.

2. Everyone who is not allergic to bread products or cheese: Triscuit sandwich + mozzarella cheese in the middle = absolutely delicious, especially if you get Cracked Pepper and Olive Oil Triscuits and put a "slice" of mozzarella cheese in the middle. Or you can get one Roasted Garlic Triscuit and one Cracked Pepper and Olive Oil Triscuit and put some mozzarella in between them, and then you get a blast of three fabulously Italian, fabulously delectable flavors in one bite. Or even Fire Roasted Tomato Triscuits are heavenly with the mozzarella. You have got to try this.

Triscuits

+

Mozzarella cheese

= 

Life is good.

3. Everyone who grew up with cartoons: Remember how awesome Saturday morning cartoons were back in the day?  Taking the time to go back and check out cartoons you loved as a child is a fabulous idea. It will fill you with joy. Take it from me...I've been Netflixing (yes, it's a verb now) X-Men: The Animated Series, and I am loving every minute of it. While we're at it, who forgot just how awesome Gambit is? Why didn't they put him in the first three X-Men movies? And why didn't they let Rogue fly in the movies? Nineties cartoons were the best.

That's all I've got for the time being, but I'm sure I'll come up with more later. =)

Eleanor Rigby, Confederate Soldier

In junior high, some of my crazy friends and I put together a project for school.  We were studying the American Civil War, and the assignment involved coming up with a story or something along those lines to make the war interesting and applicable to our own lives.  One of my friends who was obsessed with The Beatles had a brilliant idea: to adapt the story of Eleanor Rigby to fit the project.  And we were going to act it out for the class.  It was going to be perfect.  (A tip: if you are not very familiar with this song, you may want to reference it here in order to understand how the song and its lyrics tie into the story.)

We decided that Eleanor Rigby would be from the South.  She had a lover (unnamed), who lived just across the border in a Northern State.  Despite their differing views on slavery, they planned to marry.  Then the war started.  Eleanor and her fiancé decided their love mattered more than the war, but Uncle Sam didn't think so, and the young man was called off to war.  Devastated, he left to fight and she was left at home to wonder if she'd ever see him again.  Rather than wait out the war, she decided to hide her identity and her gender and enlist in the army.  Dear Eleanor hoped that by doing what she could to fight in the war, she could help it end faster so that they could be together.  

At the Battle at Antietam, the warring sides met to fight.  Eleanor was on one side and her lover on the other, neither knowing the other was there.  The battle commenced, and both fought bravely.  It came to bayonets, and after several hours, Eleanor's lover rushed to the aid of a dying comrade.  He stuck his bayonet through the Southerner who was trying to finish him off, when suddenly he heard the Southerner's soft voice call his name.  His blood ran cold as he realized with horror that he had delivered a fatal blow to his dear Eleanor.  Sobbing with grief, he held her in his arms while she smiled sadly up at him, knowing that he had had no way of knowing that it was she who he'd stabbed.  He left the battlefield and carried her off so they could be alone.  The poor man was unable to heal her wounds, and she died in his arms.  

Her lover, who we never named, brought her to a nearby town that was virtually empty.  He brought her to a church, where one Father McKenzie opened the door.  Father McKenzie agreed to provide funeral services for Eleanor despite her Southern garb.  Old Father McKenzie had been writing the words of a sermon that no one would hear, for no one came near.  He worked all night, darning his socks when there was nobody there.  One might have wondered, what did he care?  He loved his work and loved his church, even though the town was almost empty.  The young man wept as Eleanor Rigby was placed in a coffin and Father McKenzie blessed her.  No one came to the funeral service, because none of her family knew where she'd disappeared to months before.  

But dear Eleanor was there with her lover, standing beside him in spirit.  Living as if in a dream, she picked up the rice in the church where a wedding had been: what might have been their wedding, if not for the war.  As she waited at the window, watching her own body be buried, the souls of thousands of lonely people wandered by.  She saw them and thought, "All the lonely people, where do they all come from?  Where do they all belong?"  Eleanor realized that they were the souls of soldiers and other victims of the Civil War, lost to their loved ones still living.  That is why they looked so lonely.  Her lover could not see them, nor could he see her.  He had eyes only for her grave, the sign that she was lost to him forever.  Though she wished she could console him, Eleanor had no choice but to leave and wander with all the other lonely people.  

This was our tragic story of Eleanor Rigby, which we acted out for our classmates.  We certainly did it justice; my Beatles-loving friend lay in the coffin with a Confederate flag draped over her body.  I was Father McKenzie, while another friend was the mourning young man and another narrated the story (we acted silently while she told everyone what was happening).  Our performance was so moving, it might have been a tear-jerker...if only the rest of our classmates had any culture.  None of them had any idea what we were doing, nor had they heard of the song.  Only a few had even heard of The Beatles.  At least our teacher appreciated it and gave us a good grade.  And now, I cannot listen to "Eleanor Rigby" without remembering this story.

California dreamin' on such a winter's day...

The beach.

Doesn't that little phrase bring sunshine to your soul and a smile to your lips?  That's what the beach does for me.  It could be because of the sunshine.  I love the sun.  It's so...sunny.  And happy.  And full of delicious goodness and warmth.  Or maybe it's the sand, that moves so easily under your feet.  Or it's the ocean itself, as the salty waves toss and roll, lulling you to sleep.  Very few things are better than lying on the sand at the beach, soaking in the sun rays and enjoying the sounds of the ocean and the seagulls.

I miss the beach.  I'm not sure where I'll end up living when I finally settle down, but it will have to be close to a beach.  Even a rocky beach would do, as long as I can be by the ocean.  Of course, I'd love to live by a California or Florida beach.  Sigh...I miss my California beaches.  It's snowing today, and I miss summer.  Especially summer in California.  All the leaves here are brown or gone, and the sky is gray.  I've been for a walk on a winter's day.  I'd be safe and warm if I was in L.A...I'm California dreamin' on such a winter's day.

The Stairs to Mordor University

Friends, family, enemies, ducks, deer, snakes, other animals, and all who may (or may not) be interested:

Ahem.

HEAR YE, HEAR YE: THE STAIRCASE SOUTH OF BRIGHAM YOUNG UNIVERSITY CAMPUS HAS OFFICIALLY BECOME AVAILABLE FOR USE.

That's right!  Finally, after four months of construction, the stairs are fixed.  Why does this matter, you ask?  I will tell you why.  For a year and a half of living at my current apartment complex, I took this staircase up to campus.  The staircase was brutal, it's true: one long stretch of 147 steps, with approximately 12 landings to break up the monotony and allow a person to stop and attempt to breathe the impossibly thin air without falling down the stairs.  Why would I put my asthmatic self through such an ordeal every day?  Because I'm a masochist and I love torturing myself!  No, really, it's because it is the most direct path to the middle of campus, where all my classes are.  To the left, there is a hill that I could climb instead...if I wanted to add at least 5 minutes to my walk to campus.  To the right, there is a hill/stair combo I could take.  This is what I have been opting for over the past while, but it leaves me even more tired than the original staircase.  I think those steps are steeper.

Now, the original main staircase in all its glory was falling apart.  It's true.  Half of the stairs were crumbled and broken in the middle, so you had to be careful when walking up them.  But in spite of its flaws, and much like the stairs to Mordor, you just don't appreciate these things until you can't use them anymore.  And these stairs...[pausing for dramatic effect]...were taken away from me.  For four months.  Such is the story with construction.  At first I thought they were going to re-do the rails and they'd be back up in a week or two.  After a month or so I saw men in construction hats and vests with drills and pick-axes and all kinds of things, hacking away at the stairs.  In my depression over losing it, I stopped paying attention to the staircase.  But a month later I couldn't ignore the huge cement trucks brought in to replace the stairs.  I hoped this meant they would be finished before the snows of winter rendered construction impossible...but to no avail.  It snowed, it blizzarded, and for several weeks the stairs remained covered with tarp, untouched.

I'd finally resigned myself to the awful fate of waiting out the winter so that I could use the stairs again when a glimmer of hope!  People were working on the staircase again last week.  I didn't dare hope too much; I'd been let down for four months.  When what to my wondering eyes should appear but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer to take me to campus on a seat of wood veneer!  Actually, I began my walk to campus this morning and found that the staircase was open for access...but my joy was no less than it would have been if reindeer and sleigh had come to fly me to school!  And it seems special and new: maybe I remembered it differently, or maybe they've made some major improvements.  The stairs seem less steep than they used to be, and perhaps there are fewer?  All in all, it brought me great happiness to walk up those stairs again.  In my excitement, I may have walked up them too fast: I skipped every other stair and found myself wheezing for an hour and stuck with an asthma cough for the rest of the day.  Ah, well.  You win some, you lose some.  I still think it's worth it to have the stairs back.  =)

For those of you who are still confused by my inclusion of various animal species in my introduction to this post, let me explain.  One, (most) friends, family, and enemies are not animals.  I do not consider people to be animals, but some animals can be considered friends or enemies.  Or family, if you're Snow White, Aurora, or Cinderella.  As per the ducks, there is a lovely little duck pond at the base of the stairs, and a multitude of ducks wander around the area.  I have often found duck eggs and feathers on that staircase, and now the ducks are free to wander the staircase again.  Deer have been sighted along the staircase at more than one occasion.  Of a truth, I once saw a herd of ten or twelve dear leap in pairs across a larger landing on this staircase.  I look forward to seeing deer cross that way again.  I recognize that snakes may seem an odd inclusion in this group, but an old roommate of mine once told us how she saw a garter snake on the staircase and picked it up to play with it (the rest of us roommates were horrified by this story).  Other animals are also welcome; I don't discriminate.*  I am happy to walk up and down those stairs to campus with any of you who wants to join me.  Or if none of you care, I will walk up those stairs.  Every morning.  By myself.  And there will be much rejoicing.

*I am betting that I will be safe (knocks on wood) and not run into any grizzly bears, rattlesnakes, tigers, or other fierce animal predators on the stairs, because it is such a populated area.  But if I am wrong and they are inclined to join us, I take back my previous statement.  They are NOT welcome.  But you are!  Unless you're a fierce animal predator with literary capabilities...

Change the changeable, accept the unchangeable

Change is an important part of our mortal lives.  We all need to change if we want to progress.  Yet change is not always a good thing.  There are times when change wreaks havoc on our lives.  Change can bring about powerful results.  We can change who we are, for good or for ill.  As such, change must be handled delicately.  Some people don’t like it, all people must experience it, and all must learn its positive and negative effects.

My prompt for this post is a sad subject: negative changes to people’s thoughts, behaviors, and natures.  Often, individuals react negatively to something that occurs in their lives, and at times their reaction leads to a change of being.  Someone who might never have done a certain something might find that one day, that behavior is habitual and expected.  I have many friends who have developed habits or changed their natures for good and for ill.  Those who change for good, I am glad to know.  Those who change for ill, I want to help recognize their actions…but of course, they don’t want help.  They resist positive change.  Typically those who were once better and who have become less than their former selves recognize what they have done, but decide to settle.  Change didn’t work out for them so well the first time, so why try it out again? they say.  So why do we let ourselves digress?  Why do we let this happen?  “For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.”  ‘Opposite’ doesn’t have to signify another contradictory force such as anger, bitterness, or malice, taking over when something bad happens.  Why don’t we let ‘opposite’ mean a positive reaction such as meekness, peacefulness, or charity?  We choose our reactions.  We ALWAYS have the opportunity to control how we change when change comes to our lives.  So why don’t we let change mold us into better people?  Why do some of us change who we are so drastically in such negative ways that a few years down the road we become unrecognizable to those who were once friends?  What is the purpose of change if not to help us progress and make us stronger?  "All change is not growth, as all movement is not forward," said Ellen Glasgow.  But Francis Bacon taught, "Things alter for the worse spontaneously, if they be not altered for the better designedly."  We have to make positive changes happen instead of allowing negative changes to rule our lives.  Positive change allows us to grow and progress through the eternities, while negative change stops our progress and ultimately leads to ruin.

A Fairy Tale Book Sale

Once upon a time there lived a young lady in a town not unlike the one I live in now.  The town was lovely; there were people of all ages, shapes, and sizes living in it, and everyone was very friendly.  The town had a large school that many of the townspeople attended.  They went there to learn all about the wide world around them.  They studied everything from science, math, and English to religion, dance, and marriage and family.  The townspeople were very peculiar.  Some of them would wear socks with their sandals.  Others would wear leggings and miniskirts together.  Still others would tease their hair to make their heads look twice as big as they were.  Many of the townspeople would walk or drive on the streets without paying attention to anything around them.  And once a week, most of the townspeople would go to church and then stay inside for the rest of the day.

The young lady who lived in this town was not originally from there.  She had been living there for several years so that she could go to the town’s school.  After years of living with these peculiar people, she still did not understand why they were the way they were.  But she enjoyed the town anyway.  It was nice for her not to have to worry about her friends in the town doing bad things like her friends back home would do.  She liked that in spite of their differences, they had the same religious beliefs.  It was refreshing to her to not have to explain herself every time she refused to go out and party on a Sunday, or when she refused to drink alcohol. 

The young lady missed not only her old friends and family but the things she used to all the time, for her new town had a very different idea of what it meant to have fun.  They didn’t have half the things she was used to having around, and it was a struggle for her to adapt.  Eventually, she learned to make the most of the experience, and was even able to have fun!  But none of that has anything to do with this story.  I just wanted to tell you about it.  Now I will share with you the real story about this young lady in this new town.

One day, she arose early in the morning to get to school.  She had to hurry and figure out what she was going to show to her professors for the meeting they had planned, and she was nervous.  Luckily she was able to throw something together, but it turned out she didn’t even need it!  Her relief was short-lived, for she was nervous to meet with another teacher right after.  But three knocks on his door meant that he wasn’t even there!  Heaving a sigh of relief, she walked home, privately thanking her Heavenly Father for His tender mercies.

Then the young lady took a trip to the town’s library.  She was hoping to get some new books to read, for you see, she needed a break from the difficult schoolwork.  When she got to the library, to her utter delight they were having a book sale!  That’s right.  The library was selling a bunch of its books!  The young lady quickly went upstairs to check things out, and to her surprise the library’s ballroom was filled with tables and boxes of books: books for babies, books for children, books for adults, books for everyone!  Filled with delight, she combed the room, looking for anything salvageable.  Before she knew it, two hours had passed and she had at least fifteen books in hand.  What a wonderful way to spend time, she thought.  She paid for the books, ran a few other errands, and then went home to gloat over her find.  Her roommates quickly left to go to the book sale themselves.

Soon after that, her friend called her up so that they could go to the temple.  The temple was a very special place in their town, and the young lady quickly agreed to go.  But of course, every other person in the town seemed to want to go to the temple at the same time, so they ended up being there for a long time.  In spite of that, they had the best time.  The young lady wanted to stay there always, but that was impossible, so she had to leave.

When she got home, the young lady realized that while she lived in this weird little town full of peculiar people, she had had a great day anyway.  The Lord had blessed her for her meetings, she was able to get a lot of books from the library sale, and she even got to spend a few hours in the Lord’s house.  Thanking him again for His goodness and grace, she made herself a delicious dinner of fusilli alfredo with chicken and settled down to finish off the day with a television episode of Boy Meets World…and she lived happily ever after.

Haikus of my life -- I know you want to read them -- I hope you enjoy!

writing a blogpost
ideas are hard to find
I can't think of one

used to be a poet
went to'a university
then I got a life

life is int'resting
sometimes fast-paced, sometimes slow
but always worth it

life can be trying
but to live is happiness
keep your sight on God

school is tiring
research meetings in the morn
nothing to report...

had quite a long day
now I don't make any sense
same as everyday

early wake up call
much work to do tomorrow
I should go to bed

will I or won't I?
tired -- do I have a choice?
goodnight, friends of mine.

Turning 23: Thoughts and Celebrations

Over the weekend, I did not write any posts, not because I have already given up on my goal of writing at least every weekday but because it was my birthday!  I think that’s a valid excuse, and if you don’t, you probably shouldn’t be reading this anyway.  So today’s post will not be about any particular issue or topic in which I am interested; I’ll just tell you how my birthday weekend (#23) was.  And if you don’t want to read it, maybe my posterity will.  Doesn’t matter to me.  =)

On Friday, I went with T and M out to dinner at La Dolce Vita, a little family-owned Italian food restaurant in town.  I got a spinach calzone with mozzarella, parmesan, and ricotta cheeses, covered in Ragú sauce.  It was divine.  Then we went and Redbox’d “Scott Pilgrim vs. The World” (my choice; I had already seen it but was in the mood, and I knew T and M hadn’t seen it).  I figured that even though Molly isn’t into gaming so much (neither am I, but I at least know how it works), she’d enjoy the plotline and at least appreciate a well-done film.  Of course, she absolutely hated it, which made me feel bad for making her watch it—I really thought that she’d at least enjoy it somewhat, but apparently she loathes gaming that much.  At least T liked it and wants to buy it now!  

Saturday was also fantastic.  P and I got French toast at Kneader’s for breakfast.  If you’ve never had French toast from Kneader’s for breakfast, you are missing out.  I LOVE French toast and it is the best French toast I have ever had.  Yes, it’s that good.  We then went and got manicures, which were sorely needed – I hate how dry Utah is, because my hands get so cracked and dry.  Hooray for aesthetics schools in the area that will service you for cheap.  She dropped me off at my sister K’s, where I hung out with her, her husband R, my sister C, her husband C, and their son J.  It was a good day: we played Bohnanza, Mario Kart wii (for J; he threw a fit every time we turned it off), and Imaginiff. Highlight of that game: “If K (my sister) and Santa Claus had a baby…” Fitting, because K is almost 7 months pregnant; sad that R had to find out this way who the real father is. =P  We also had celebratory cake and ice cream (chocolate chip cookie dough).  For the cake, we attempted something new: we made spice cake for a two-layered cake, then for the “glue” we used apple pie filling instead of a layer of frosting.  The frosting ended up being Funfetti vanilla frosting (leftover’s from J’s third birthday last month).  It turned out quite delectable.

The next day, Sunday, was my actual birthday.  Unfortunately I didn’t get enough sleep on Saturday night, which meant I was falling asleep in 8:30 Church.  I didn’t want to do that, because one, I hate falling asleep in church, and two, the lessons and talks were fantastic.  Our high councilman and one future sister missionary in our ward (she had her call to Canada) spoke on reverence: what it means and how to develop it in our lives.  Sunday school was about the reactions to Christ’s birth (Mary, the angels, Simeon, etc.).  Relief Society was about the Sabbath day and fasting, and I was somehow able to stay awake for that third hour of church.  After church I had to get set apart in my new calling.  I am now a member of the temple committee!  I will miss my calling as Relief Society teacher very much, but of course the moment you get really good at or really attached to a calling is the moment you are pulled away from it.  But I’m excited to be on the temple committee.  I have a strong testimony of the importance of the temple and regular temple attendance.  In fact, I’ll admit that multiple times in the past I have been jealous of friends getting married almost more for the fact that they were able to make their temple covenants than that they were now married.  Of course I want to get married, but I want to make those covenants, too.  Anyway, I hope this calling will be good for me and that I will be able to contribute to the good of our ward in encouraging people to attend the temple regularly.  The blessings in one’s life from regular temple attendance are immeasurable.  Anyhow, I was set apart in my calling by the first counselor in our bishopric.  It always amazes me how strong the power of the Spirit becomes when a Priesthood holder exercises his Priesthood authority and gives a blessing.  The whole room filled with the Spirit of the Lord.  It was wonderful.  When I got home from that, I took a glorious hour and a half long nap, and then went to my sister K’s sister-in-law’s house for dinner.  They do dinner regularly with her in-law siblings, but this is the first time I took her up on her invitation for me to join.  I got to see B’s new baby—always fun.  After dinner we played Catan Histories: The Struggle for Rome, which I got for K and R for Christmas.  It was an adventure as we all tried to learn this new game, then play it.  Luckily we are all game people and caught on quickly, and I think we all liked the game very much.  

As it was late when I got home Sunday night, I slept in Monday.  Always good.  For lunch, a bunch of friends and I went to Tucanos!  It was a party of 30 and it was fabulous.  Several had never been to Tucanos, so I was pleased to introduce them to the amazingness that it is.  Most of my friends from sociology came – my cohort, some of the 2^nd year cohort, as well as my professor M – plus some people from my ward, old roommates, and other friends.  It was great.  I felt very loved =) The rest of the day was really relaxed…my roommate A and our friend M watched She’s The Man, which I kind of watched…I’m not a huge Amanda Bynes fan, nor am I really into movies like that, but it was all right.  A and I decided not to do anything else the rest of the day and just watched another movie, How To Train Your Dragon.  She hadn’t seen it because she was in Jerusalem last semester, and she loved it.  That movie really is fantastic, and it’s so quotable.  You know I love quotable movies!  I also spent some time perusing the Netflix list, because my mom and dad got me a 3 month subscription to Netflix for my birthday!  What is first on my DVD list, coming to me tomorrow?  X-men the Animated Series: Volume 1.  Of course.  I haven’t seen those since I was a kid, and I am totally stoked to watch them again.  If you are still reading this ridiculously long post and have any suggestions of movies or T.V. shows I should check out, let me know! 

Thoughts about turning 23: One, I feel old.  I feel like 23 is the first year of the mid-20s (early 20s = ages 20-22, mid 20s = ages 23-26, late 20s = 27-29), and that makes me feel a little old.  It doesn’t help that I can count on one hand the number of girls in my ward that are older than me; most are a good two years younger.  I’m even older than a lot of the guys, almost of all of which seem to have gotten back from their missions in the last six months or so.  So, I feel old.  My friend MW in Missouri told me I should get a bunch of cats, or feed birds in the park.  =P  My second thought is, I only feel old because I’m single, not dating anyone, and living in a city where a large percentage of women my age are married and already have a child or two.  One of my sisters and one of my brothers were both married by the time they were 23.  By the time my Mom was 23, she had a son.  If I were to get out of this area—which I intend to do as soon as I get my Master’s Degree—then it will be perfectly normal if I am still single by that time.  Thought number three, unrelated to the first two but the most important of the three: I have now officially been a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints for fifteen years!  I’m looking forward to another fifteen, then another fifteen, then another, so on for forever, and I’m excited for every minute of it.

A Violent Affair for a Dream Girl to Remember

I recently viewed the film "Dream Girls".  I had never seen it before, and I enjoyed it very much (thanks for bringing it over, M!).  Jennifer Hudson has a killer voice!  The main characters in the film struggle through difficult life trials, but redemption comes in the end to alleviate their suffering.  If any of you have not seen this film, I recommend it as an inspirational movie with meaning and heart, not to mention that it has fabulous music/singing/clothes.

But recommending this movie is not my intent in writing today.  Rather, I noticed something about myself while I was watching it.  I realized that the whole movie I kept expecting someone (particularly the individual who had control/anger issues) to lose it and start shooting up the place.  And I mean that in respect to guns, not drugs.  There were multiple times when I would tense up during an emotional or dramatic scene because I was afraid he was going to kill her or something.  Spoiler: This never happened.

Similarly, I recently saw for the first time the film "An Affair to Remember".  I didn't know much about this one before I saw it.  During the movie, something goes wrong that prevents one of the lovers from meeting the other at their arranged destination.  The one who went there and waited fruitlessly was so broken-hearted that it seemed this individual would commit suicide by jumping off a building.  Several times during the movie, I expected this to happen.  Second Spoiler: It never did.

Now, "Dream Girls" is not an action movie.  It was not intended as one, and I knew that before I saw it.  "An Affair to Remember" is not an action movie either.  It was intended as a romance, not action or tragedy.  So why did I expect these things to happen?  Why did I expect so much violence?  I have realized that these expectations come up when I watch other movies as well, and far more often than not there IS the expected violent act or scene that results in serious injury or usually death.  Why does it have to be there?  Why do so many more movies have violence, blood and gore in them nowadays than fifty years ago?  Yes, times have changed.  Media in general has become more violent, more crude, more sex-obsessed, etc.  But why does that need to be the case?!  I know I am beating a dead horse here, but really.  It makes me sad that "good movies"--the ones that people go see multiple times--have to have someone die or someone almost die and someone battle multiple someone else's.  It makes me even more sad to realize that along with the rest of society, I have gotten to the point where I expect that out of movies, too.  Hopefully I can change that.  Does anyone have a ton of old movies I could watch?  Maybe that would help.  =)

Where much [opportunity for healthy living] is given, much is required

D&C 82:3 "For of him unto whom much is given much is required, and he who sins against the greater light shall receive the greater condemnation."

See also Luke 12:48 "For unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall much be required."

I was reading the scriptures the other day and started to ponder over these two verses.  The idea presented here is generally understood by Latter-day Saints and other Christians to mean, as Uncle Ben told Peter Parker, "With great power comes great responsibility."  I find it fascinating that those with privilege are often those who do not use their resources well.  Of course, they enjoy them, they throw parties with them, and they take full advantage to serve their own desires.  Yet they fail to realize that their position and their possessions are given to them so that they may fulfill greater responsibilities.  It is those who have little who realize the value of their few possessions and the magnitude of their positions.

I began thinking about this as I was reading a scriptural account of a family traveling in the wilderness.  The simple matter of sustenance was an issue of great importance to this family.  The same issue was a concern for the pioneers crossing the plains, for those who lived during the Great Depression, for anyone who is from a poorer class or who lived before 1950.  For those of us who live in developed countries now, we are blessed to have grocery stores, bakeries, delis, restaurants, and more places where we can buy virtually any kind of food.  It used to be, and still is for some, a matter of "Will I have enough flour and maybe some meat for a small breakfast and dinner to get me through the day?"  Now, we have food enough for a balanced meal three times a day, not to mention snacks.  We don't even have to be farmers ourselves to have such choices in sustenance.  We also have the resources for exercise -- many more sports have been invented, there are gyms everywhere, and good athletic shoes/gear are available for anyone to use.  True, most of us don't have to work in the fields or the factories all day, but we have access to these resources that can keep us healthy and energized instead of suffering from disease and malnutrition for not being able to treat our bodies well.  We are truly blessed.

How are these two thoughts related?  I don't remember how they came together in my mind, but when I was thinking about food and resources that we have at our disposal today, I suddenly began thinking about the above two scriptures.  Where much is given, much is required.  We have so many options for eating food, and so many options for exercise.  But do we use them properly, or at all?  How many of us ignore the fruits and vegetable section of the grocery story and instead go for the mac and cheese or the chips and dip?  How many of us grab a burger and fries at the nearest fast food place instead of spending a few extra minutes to make a real lunch?  How many of us would rather sit on the couch and veg after work instead of going to the gym?  How many of us would rather just let our kids watch T.V. or play video and computer games instead of encouraging them to go outside and play?  We have all these resources at our hands, yet we neglect to use them.  We have much.  Much is required of us.  But we are failing to uphold our responsibilities.

I will be the first to admit that I could eat healthier, and I ought to have spent more of my life exercising and taking care of my body.  Recognizing this helps me encourage myself to take advantage of these wonderful opportunities.  Instead of being lazy, I have discovered that forcing myself to exercise actually invigorates my body and my mind, even when I'm tired beforehand -- if I can get myself to do it, I never regret it, and I always feel better afterward.  Eating fresh fruits and vegetables instead of chips or candy actually makes me feel better and more energized.  Who would have known such a thing?  I'm pretty sure the Lord does!  As do those who already have these habits of healthy eating and healthy living.  I am not very healthy now, but I will be one day.  I am working toward that.  No, I did not write this to chastise any specific person--it's not my place to do so, anyway--nor do I want to praise myself for doing what I'm doing.  Far from it.  But I hope this made us all think a little bit about how we have been neglecting the gifts that the Lord has given us, perhaps unconsciously, perhaps on purpose, perhaps a little bit of both.  I think that those who have gone before us would be overwhelmed and overjoyed at the availability of food for a balanced diet that we have before us.  They were not so fortunate, and had to rely mostly on food like flour and meal for energy to get through the day.  Logically, we should be the healthier people, but we are not.  We are a lot healthier when it comes to cleanliness and disease, and our average life span is longer, but when it comes to day-to-day living and keeping our bodies in shape?  We fail miserably.  I know that there are other factors to consider besides eating healthy and exercising, but I feel strongly that if we were to fulfill these responsibilities and remember that where much is given, much is required, we would be a much healthier people.

Bookreading: Part III

To finish off this discourse on books and reading, I would like to discuss why good books are written, why that matters, and how books can change our lives.

In 2 Nephi 4:15, it says, “And upon these [plates] I write the things of my soul…for my soul delighteth in scriptures, and my heart pondereth them, and writeth them for the learning and the profit of my children.”  If you substitute the word scriptures with good books, the prophet’s words represent the intent of many authors.  Authors of the best books write the things of their souls, and they write for the learning and profit of man.  “The best of a book is not the thought which it contains, but the thought which it suggests; just as the charm of music dwells not in the tones but in the echoes of our hearts” (attributed to either Oliver Wendell Holmes or John Greenleaf Whittier).  The author writes, and speaks, and whether his or her words are meaningful depends on the listening heart and mind of the reader.  It has been said that reading a good book is like opening a window into the heart of the author (Little Women).  Although no words are spoken aloud, the author and the reader communicate, and through this medium the sincerest forms of conversation occur.  In order for this to take place, the reader must open his or her own heart and mind.  One person talking “at” another does not lead to communication unless the other person talks back.  Here, Ralph Waldo Emerson speaks clearly as to what the reader must do in order to achieve this valuable prize: “Tis the good reader that makes the good book; in every book he finds passages which seem confidences or asides hidden from all else and unmistakably meant for his ear; the profit of books is according to the sensibility of the reader; the profoundest thought or passion sleeps as in a mine, until it is discovered by an equal mind and heart.”

Yes, the reader must do some work himself if he wants to benefit from reading books.  But it is a small price to pay, for in using one’s mind and thinking about a book, one stretches his mind and gains mountains of knowledge from as little as one phrase.  In the movie Ever After, one of the characters ignorantly says, “Some people read because they cannot think for themselves.”  To her, I say along with Charles Dudley Warner, “Nothing is worth reading that does not require an alert mind.”  In order to profit from books, you have to be able to think on your own, for without your response to the words on the page, how can you and the author communicate?  Would there really be any point to reading if you didn’t think about what you read?  Edmund Burke commented, “To read without reflecting is like eating without digesting.”  Similarly, Francis Bacon affirmed that “Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested.”  Books are written “for our profit and learning” as we liken them to us (see 1 Nephi 19:23).  I would like to add my pearls of wisdom to the words of these great individuals, but they need no elaboration.

It is also important to consider that one ought to read all good books, not solely those with which he agrees.  It is difficult to fully know your own beliefs without learning the opposing view.  Some will refuse to continue reading a book that suggests ideas or morals contrary to their views, but it is of greater value to finish the book.  In so doing, you will have a clearer understanding of your own morals.  “If you resist reading what you disagree with, how will you ever acquire deeper insights into what you believe?  The things most worth reading are precisely those that challenge our convictions” (author unknown).

In conclusion – the conclusion of only this very short discourse; indeed, one could go on for pages and pages about the magnitude of this subject – reading is necessary if we wish to remain an intelligent species.  It is through books that we pass along eternal truths and wisdom. “A book is the only place in which you can examine a fragile thought without breaking it, or explore an explosive idea without fear it will go off in your face.  It is one of the few havens remaining where a man's mind can get both provocation and privacy” (Edward P. Morgan).  I, for one, relish those times when I can have this wonderful experience, and encourage all to take opportunity to do the same.

Bookreading: Part II

In my previous post, I described a scenario—rather, a lifetime—for the modern day individual who may have enjoyed reading as a child but has no time to do so anymore.  This representative individual may ask, why read?  What’s the point?  Why, when I don’t have time?  Why, when I don’t get anything out of it besides a story in which time I could have watched multiple episodes of my favorite T.V. show?  Well, let me answer your questions.

Why read?  What’s the point?  Reading does for you what many other activities cannot.  Some of the great writers of the past have given multiple reasons for reading.  “Books support us in our solitude and keep us from being a burden to ourselves,” said Jeremy Collier.  If books are able to stop us from being lonely as well as prevent us from becoming burdens to ourselves, what else can they do?  Harold Bloom maintained that “reading well is one of the great pleasures—a healing pleasure—that solitude can afford you.”  If you don’t enjoy being alone, books support you in your solitude and also provide pleasure and healing that you would not experience otherwise in your solitude.  Even if you do enjoy being alone, reading increases that pleasure.  I love solitude, and oft times reading a book has brought me great enjoyment and peace in my reclusion.  Kafka wrote, “A book must be an ice-axe to break the seas frozen inside our soul.”  Although I never cared for Kafka’s Metamorphosis, Kafka is a good writer, and I have seen in my own reading experience how this quote is true.  Many times while reading I have felt the words on the page prick at my heart, evoking in me peculiar and unfamiliar emotions.  I could not recount how many books have served as ice-axes to “break the seas frozen inside [my] soul.” 

Why read, when we don’t have time?  Sherri Chasin Calvo said, “If you have never said ‘Excuse me’ to a parking meter or bashed your shins on a fireplug, you are probably wasting too much valuable reading time.”  Although this was said with a smile, the principle is true.  If you are not taking the time to read books, you are wasting time.  Make reading a priority.  If you absolutely cannot find the time to sit down and read a book, use audio books while driving or exercising instead of listening to music or watching television.  Take a book with you to work to read during your lunch break.  When your junior high and high school aged children read books for school, read those books at the same time so that you can talk about them together (this will provide the added benefit of family time and closeness).  There is always time to read; you just have to look for it. 

Why else ought we to read?  What do we get out of it besides a story?  Those of you who are Latter-day Saints have likely Doctrine and Covenants 88:118, which reads, “Seek ye out of the best books words of wisdom; seek learning, even by study and also by faith.”  This is a commandment direct from God!  Along with the fact that reading is a commandment, 1 Nephi 3:7 tells us that God will give no commandments unto the children of men without preparing a way for them to accomplish those commandments.  Therefore, one cannot argue that there is no time to read because the Lord will always help those who seek to obey His commandments.  And if we want to learn words of wisdom, Heavenly Father would have us read the best books.  You know how to recognize a good book when you read one, and “It is what you read when you don't have to that determines what you will be when you can't help it” (Oscar Wilde).  Books can indeed have this profound an effect on your person.  It has been said that “fiction reveals truths that reality obscures” (attributed to either Jessamyn West or Ralph Waldo Emerson).  How many of us have learned the truth from Huckleberry Finn that “You can’t pray a lie”?  Who has not learned the value of trust from Shakespeare’s Othello, or the dangers of revenge from The Count of Monte Cristo?  As we read, book after book teaches us important lessons and truths: “From every book invisible threads reach out to other books; and as the mind comes to use and control those threads the whole panorama of the world's life, past and present, becomes constantly more varied and interesting, while at the same time the mind's own powers of reflection and judgment are exercised and strengthened” (Helen E. Haines).  And it is not important just to be well-read: one ought to reread good books, for as Clifton Fadiman says, “When you reread a classic you do not see more in the book than you did before; you see more in you than was there before.”  As you read, you change.  This is the power of books, and it is true for both good and bad books.  Oscar Wilde knew that, which is why he held that what you voluntarily read makes you who you are.  Books can make you into a better person if you choose to read good ones and let them change your life.

Bookreading: Part I

It is likely that some of your earliest memories include being read stories by your mommy or daddy.  Perhaps you had an obsession with Dr. Seuss or Richard Scarry books, or Laura Numeroff’s “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie”, or maybe you liked Arnold Lobel’s Frog and Toad series as I did.  You probably tore through so many Little Golden Books that your parents were fervently grateful for how inexpensive they are.  At some point you began to read the books yourself, and you progressed through various children’s series as your reading skills improved.  You might have read Nancy Drew, the Hardy Boys, Babysitter’s Club, Goosebumps, the Boxcar Children, and more.

Unfortunately, at some point, books may have become less of a priority for you.  There were so many video and computer games to play, and the Internet to surf, and T.V. shows and movies to watch.  These provided you with more instant gratification, and subconsciously you may have thought, Why should I waste the time to read a long book when I can just watch a 30-minute show? or Why read the book when I can just watch the movie about it?

When you got to high school, teachers began assigning you books to read.  Some days you had enough time to read them, but other days you didn’t, and perhaps more often than not you found yourself looking up Sparknotes chapter summaries or forgetting it altogether so that you could spend more time doing other things.  It got worse in college; you were so busy enjoying the college life and trying to do the bare minimum to get the grades you wanted in your classes that you neglected to read even the articles your professors posted for you.  At best, you’d “carefully” skim the required readings; you figured no one had time to actually read the whole book, and the professors couldn’t expect any more with your busy lives.  Maybe when the time rolled around for New Year’s Resolutions, you promised yourself, Okay, I WILL read at least one book outside of my required coursework each semester.  Or maybe just one this year.  But of course, you never got around to it…and when you graduated, you couldn’t find the time to read a book around your job, raising a family, and everything else you had to do.  The only things you would read would be those childhood favorites that your parents read to you, and you would read them to your child at bedtime.

Now, I realize that what I have described here may not be the case for everyone, or maybe not even for half of you out there.  But this situation or a similar one is the case for enough people today (including myself, unfortunately), and it should be a concern for all of us.  What has happened to our literary world?  Why don’t we read books anymore?  Are we too busy with things that are genuinely more important?  Are we too distracted and no longer have the mental capacity to do something like read a book for more than thirty minutes?  Would we rather sit on the couch watching the boob tube because we are too lazy to hold a book and physically turn the pages?

This Master's Student's Life

Hi again! I have been an utter failure at updating my blog. In my defense, though, it was Christmastime, which is always busy, plus I was finishing my first semester of grad school. Please forgive me.

Updates...As alluded to above, I successfully made it through my first semester of grad school, not too worse for the wear (three A's and one A-). Ceeelll-lebrate good times, come on! Then came Christmas, as it always does, in spite of the Grinch's efforts to keep it in check. I got to spend some good time with family and friends, though not enough. Even though I was home for a little over two weeks, it was still too short. I enjoyed it, though--playing games with my family, watching movies, going places, just spending time together. I got back on Sunday, and school started two days ago. This semester will be just as hard as the last, if not harder...I have to finish two papers with professors, one of which I will be presenting at the PSA Conference in Seattle in March, plus I have to get going on my thesis. Not to mention taking 10 credits again. My classes are Linear Regression Analysis (doesn't that just sound so fun? I can already tell that will be a struggle), Ethnographic Research Techniques (interesting, but very time-consuming), Race and Ethnicity (a very interesting class), and of course, Pro-Sem (the seminar where we learn how to be academic professionals and what you can do with an MS in Sociology). The papers I'm working on with professors are the same one from last semester -- one on anger within the family, and the other on child health outcomes in single-parent families. Now I get to figure out exactly what I'm doing for my thesis...I don't want to share too much about that until I get going on it, because right now, I only have a very meager idea on what I'm doing.

Yep, that's it! School pretty much defines my life right now, which is kind of sad when I recall the fact that I am halfway through my 19th consecutive year of being a full-time student (17th if I don't count preschool or kindergarten). Yikes. I think a good solid 20 years oughta do the trick, don't you? I plan to finish my Master's in April 2012, then it's off to...somewhere. I have no idea where, but I will be moving on from where I am now.

I will probably update this more often now...I have a tentative goal to write every day (or as often as I can...), so whether or not I post a blog will depend on the subject matter of what I write. Any ideas of topics for me to write about?