In my head . . .

Time for some thought vomit . . . the tasty kind

2011-11-14T14:41:00.000-08:00

It's time for another round of this month's favorites . . . and maybe a few un-favorites. Why? Because I wanna. Why else? Because you, dear reader, need this exposure. Trust me.

Food: I think I have a case of the MSGs. Ever since our double date to Sushi Ya with the Jonsters, Richard and I have been craving sushi like Edward craves his personalized crack (please catch this allusion). I was apprehensive by the "all you can eat" aspect of this sushi bar. If working at Whistle Wok and Classic Skating during high school taught me anything, it was to be suspicious of a) cheap Asian food, b) anything served in or around entertainment joints like Nickle City, Jack and Jill's Bowling, or DZ Discovery Zone (remember that place?), and c) all you can eat buffets in ghetto-land Provo. Bad new bears, man. However, I was first relieved and then a bit giddy to discover that Sushi Ya is more than meets the eye. Oh my sultan-of-all-that-is-sushi goodness! Approaching the building you'd suspect--based on the outward appearance--that it would be swarming with FDA coppers, but the interior is nice and the food is even nicer. Yes, nicer! (More nice? *Brain eroding*) It's kind of a fun, little mermaid "under the sea" experience. Cool exterior=big ole goldfish and snapping turtle in a fish pond that keep you happily entertained as you wait. And let's not forget the neat wall murals of the ocean and bubbles and fishies. Oh boy! It's not super posh or nothin', but it ain't ghetto neither.

Now, the food is what matters most and it does not disappoint (and even if it did, it has a strange addictive quality that makes up for anything it might lack. At this point, I'm so addicted that it doesn't even matter to me anymore. I must have those tempura rolls! I MUST!!!). Our top picks have been the Veggie Tempura (cheap for those poor days) the Happy (full of cream cheesey goodness), the Rocky Mountain (towering with tasty fishies), the Orange Julius (by far the prettiest roll I've ever seen, and last but not least--and actually the best--the Spicy Crunch roll. Heaven. Seriously. Oh, Spicy Crunch roll. I love you.

Runner-up on this month's food favorites: Settebello. Honestly, this restaurant by all accounts should have won first place in my heart/stomach, but it just doesn't use MSG like Sushi Ya does. It's like smashed up smarties competing with cocaine. I mean, dag, yo.

DISCLAIMER: I don't actually know if Sushi Ya uses MSG or not. Either way, of this thing I am absolutely positive. I am unconditionally and irrevocably in love with edwa...uh, Sushi Ya.

Drink: I just wrote a novel about sushi, so I'll keep this brief. The all-too-hard-to-track-down Pear Yerba Mate Sobe is this beverage month's winner. It was all over the place this summer,

then come September it disappeared. Richard even spent a good hour and a half trying to track it down for me one night. He visited a total of four grocery stores and three gas stations without any luck. But today, a miracle of miracles happened. The glorious Pear Yerba Mate sat contently on the very well-stocked shelves of Macey's. *Fits of glee* Richard is yet again the bestest Husband ever. He don't bring home just the bacon; he brings home the Sobe. The Pear Yerba Mate is at the top of my drink list for the following reasons: 1) Low sugar + slight caffeine=pep without the jitters. 2) It tastes reeeeal good. You get the yummyness of pear without the sometime unwanted texture/peel. 3) Apparently it's a rare collectors drink now, which makes it SUPER desirable. Scarcity drives desire, right? Something like that.

*Pause*

Just now a baby spider strung itself down it's little sticky webby-string from my swoopy bangs. Should I be concerned? Poor little guy was probably getting high on hair spray. Now he's nothin' but spidey mash.

Moving on....

Music: Oh man. Get excited. Are you excited yet? OK, here it goes.

Live music - The band is called Honey, Honey and we saw them open for Joshua James in The State Room. A cool venue and a cool band. Well, a talented band. Let me explain. I feel like they could have been cool if they weren't trying so hard to be cool. It seemed like the lead gal was trying to pull off the tough-girl act, but honestly she probably grew up in a well-to-do neighborhood and had private violin lessons her whole life. And that's OK. She should just role with it. Nothing as awkward as someone pretending to be something their not on stage. But, bless her heart, she's in showbiz and we all know what that does to people.

At any rate, I loved their sound--a "butt country" sound, if I can quote Chris. Or to clarify, a country/rock/blue-grass group with a killer bass player and a very talented lead vocalist who also tore it up on the banjo and violin. She has inspired me to quit my life, get a band together, hit the road in a VW hippy van with Richard, and tour the snot out of the U.S. Chris didn't like her vocals, and I know he's the music authority in our family because he opened for Dashboard, beyond doing a bajillion other cool/intelligent things, but I have to disagree with him here. She had a raw Carlille meets Adele sound with a slew of soulful overtones. Now, some of their songs were just OK for me. They are, after all, just getting on their feet. I'll excuse them for that. My favorite song is featured below (and you may have heard it because it was released in 2010, but I'm just getting back into this stuff so amuse me, OK?).

(I was gonna provide the music video for you here, but my compy is slow. You'll have to do the leg work on this one. Here's the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q3YmaADISlo)

Purchased Music - I know it's a little early, but A Very She and Him Christmas is worthy of year-round listening. Zooey Deschanel, first of all, is just the cutest thing that's ever hit the big screen, radio, and TV. And second of all, who didn't fall in love with her singing in Elf? Well, now you can hear her swoon the Christmas tunes all over again! Favorite moment in the album: She takes the man's part in "Baby it's cold outside" making it less-stalkerish/semi-criminal and giving me a good chuckle.

So yeah, rock on Zooey! And rock on to the Him guy, too. So sorry . . . I don't know your name, but you play guitar like a champ. I love you, promise. :)

Also neat?

<----The new Feist album, Metals. Oh Leslie, you've done it again, you wonderful thing. Check out the new goods here and be happy: http://www.listentofeist.com/

Hmm...I seem to have run out of free time. And my craving for sushi has returned in full force.

Will. Continue. Blog. Later.

But...I can't sign off until I brief this next favorite;

Favorite Husband: The winner is . . . *drumroll* . . . Richard! Although it makes me feel like an old fogy to use the word husband, he is definitely the best! Hands down. No competition. My other husbands suck. (Sorry guys.)

Richard and I have been married six months now, so we're basically experts on this marriage thing. Life with him has been awesome. I mean, have you seen his face?! He's freakin' gorgeous. Whose life wouldn't rock with a little bit of Richard thrown in the mix? I appreciate what he brings to my life. He really keeps me grounded and always manages to make me laugh. I'm forever grateful that I decided to play my guitar, panhandling for money, in front of the Kohler's grocery store back in '08 and that, for some reason, he fell in love with that. :) He's by far the best thing that's ever happened to me.

OK, that's it! Enjoy these favs for now. More updates to come. :)

Richard Saves the Day

2011-09-27T20:24:00.000-07:00

I had started writing a literary analysis for my young adult lit class tonight. Needless to say, after what feels like 25 years of college the following is an understatement: I AM SICK OF WRITING PAPERS!

Understanding my concern, Richard--my wonderful, caring, beautiful husband--decided to take over for me. Here is how the paper turned out:

(There is an intro, but it's long and I won't bore you.). . . . Now, for an author to create a young character with adult-like coping abilities doesn’t seem like a hard task, since the author is presumably an adult himself. He could draw on his experiences as an adult and simply infuse them into his brilliantly crafted young adult character. However, in the case of The Outsiders, a novel brimming with troubled young adults making mature adult-like decisions, the author’s ability to infuse her juvenile characters with adult wisdom seems unlikely. S.E. Hinton, the author of The Outsiders, was only a young adult herself when she put pen to paper and constructed the novel—one that would stand as a timestamp for young adult literature and is considered by many to be the first official young adult novel.

(This is the part where Richard takes over. It's pretty brilliant if you as me.)

Sometimes adults even like to read young adult novels. Even though they are too old, many adults are too immature to deal with real big-boy problems and find it fascinating that a young adult is able to deal with those problems. Its like hearing that Mozart played the piano at age five. Its shocking and fun to read.

Not only are the books fun to read but they are fun to eat. Eating a book helps one to literally internalize the material. Ancient tribes, coincidentally the ones that feel like cameras suck their souls out, feel that you cannot truly comprehend a book until it has been ingested. One fun project that can be done with students to help them see the benefit in ingesting literature is to have each student eat a book. After the book passes into the student’s stool have them fish out any words or phrases that remain intact and have them recompile them into an entirely new young adult novel of their very own. Many young adult novels have been “inspired” by such means. The series “Twilight” is a perfect example of this technique.

My husband is just the smartest, hottest thing since who knows what. :)

The Power of Whining

2011-05-24T08:58:00.000-07:00

The wedding and honeymoon were fab. And by fab I mean FABULOUS! An absolute dream. Perfecto! I learned a lot in the process--about TBS (Traumatic Bridezilla Syndrome), the "lose weight, feel weak" stress diet, and making a commitment that may or may not be detrimental to your eternal happiness (I'm banking on the not-so-detrimental camp, because let's face it, Richard is the nicest person that's ever walked the streets of planet earth) But today I want to report on something of greater value that I learned: The Power of Whining!

The restaurant: The Blue Iguana in Park City, over priced and over decorated.
The weapon: Maui Maui fish salad and tacos, probably cooked sometime the week before and fried up in the microwave just before making their grand entrance on our plates.
The place: A tiny, tiny shabby table at the top of a dirty staircase. Other than Richard and myself, the restaurant was pretty much empty. From out tiny table we had a great view of the steaming kitchen below and an entire row of spacious, clean, empty tables underneath the glowing windows of the sun room. We asked the waitress if we could move to another table, pointing to the glorious sunbaked tables of goodness on the other side of the room. She moved us, alright. To a smaller table in a crampier location. Rude!

Maybe it was our ponchos and chacos. Maybe it was my lack of makeup and/or prada and gucci accessories. Maybe we didn't look like we deserved to be in Park City. But it was our honeymoon, dang it! And what Evelyn wants, Evelyn gets! *Bridzilla yalp*

After paying $50 for something worse than Del Taco at midnight, we drove off to our hotel feeling a bit ill. Ill from the food? Ill from the bill? Probably a little of both. My mind got a churnin' and I realized that we could have gone to Red Lobster for that much money. Red Lobster! The restaurant Richard and I can only dream of affording...one day, when we start selling off our internal organs. The restaurant with a golden ambiance emanating from it's beautiful lobster marquee. Oh, the coconut shrimp! The biscuits! The little lobster leg metal cracker thingy device! It is delightful and we love it--very, very, very much.

"Richard," I said, "turn the car around. We're going back. We're complaining."

A polite chat with the manager and ten minutes later we happily walked out of the dirty restaurant with a $40 gift certificate and a sense of empowerment. Who knew complaining could be so profitable?

We never, ever wanted to go back to the Park City Blue Iguana. But luckily for us there was another Blue Iguana in SLC where the food was heavenly and half the price. With our $40 dollar gift certificate we were able to get the most delectable assortment of appetizers, entrées, and desserts (try the flan--amazing!) We also ran into Richard's cousin...which was fun and not awkward at all. Ha ha. :)

Moral of Evelyn's ramblings? Whine your little hearts out my friends. No one, even frumpy looking weirdos with ponchos, deserves to get hosed by tourist town restaurants masquerading microwaved fished left-overs as fine dining. And eat at the Blue Iguana in SLC. It made my dear little heart sing!

Name Poem: Santa Clause

2010-12-04T21:19:00.000-08:00

Same old red suit, velvety and dark, just like
Antlers—the ones his team of reindeer fashion each year.
Naughty or nice, he visits us either way
To teach us a lesson—that there are consequences for the things we do.
Actions matter, and someone is always watching.

Coal for the naughty and toys for the nice—
Life lessons thoughtfully tucked into festive stockings.
Another bad year for little Timmy,
Unless he takes that frog out of Susie’s hair and
Says he’s sorry. He still has a chance to be a good boy—
Enough time before the man in red issues a final judgment.

I'm dreaming of a haiku Christmas

2010-12-04T20:23:00.001-08:00

Christmas Break

Cold, empty campus
Students retreat to their homes
Safe from finals week

(Ummm, I think I should quit school and be a professional poet.)

Disco Skating: More than Just One Saturday Night

2010-11-13T16:03:00.000-08:00

And everything around me, yeah
Got to stop to feelin' so low
And I decided quickly (Yes I did)
To disco down and check out the show
-Wild Cherry, 1976

“Whatever you do, don’t date the disco skaters,” my boss said, looking at me sternly, “trust me.” It had taken a great deal of pleading and convincing, but my boss had finally let me D.J. Disco Night at the skating rink. I’ll admit it: I didn’t take his advice immediately about the disco skaters (also known as the “regulars” because they frequented the rink regularly at a weekly, if not bi-weekly, basis), but it only took a few dates with these retroactive phenomena to understand his reasoning. Initially, being the high school student I was, I thought it flattering to be asked out by college guys. I just didn’t realize what type of college guys I was dealing with.
Disco skaters are considered to be pretty weird. After all, what sort of a guy has nothing better to do with his weekends than dress up in bright spandex and skate around in circles while listening to ABBA? Some paid big money for their specialized skates and practiced for weeks to win the skating competitions. Some made me personalized CDs of their favorite funk music and begged me to play it later in the evening when the amateur skaters had gone home. And one disco skater—called Kip—refused to call me by anything else but my DJ name (Candy…I know, I know), even when we were on a date. After that, I was pretty weirded-out by him, and disco skaters in general, and the whole culture that surrounded Disco Night. But I stayed. I still worked there because despite its weirdness, there was a piece of nostalgic goodness that I could not leave behind. Needless to say, I have an interesting relationship with Classic Skating and Disco Night. But that little run-down rink has an interesting relationship with Utah Valley, and its college student residents as well.
Despite how bizarre and outdated it and the odd community that frequents the rink are, the legendary activity of disco skating is a must-do on most college students’ bucket lists. And while a great majority only visit the rink once, it’s not unheard of for some to find themselves dragged there a second time for a ward activity by a roommate who, “really needs you to be there” because she’s too timid to talk to “this year’s top ranking ward hotty” without you there by her side coaching every word she speaks and every move she makes. “Plus,” she says, “there will be free Little Ceaser’s Pizza there—and root beer floats!” But whether you’ve frequented this joint once or twice by choice or by force, you’ve known that it was a rite of passage. Something you had to do.
And it’s true. Your education at BYU or UVU is not complete without experiencing the thrill of throwing down five bucks for a long night of rusty skates, swirling track lights, cheap fog, and half blown speakers blaring out “Dancing Queen” in all its nostalgic glory. It is then that your understanding of “what there is to do” in Utah Valley deepens. It is then that you can say to yourself, “I am truly a college student now. I have plundered delightfully at the D.I. I have squeezed my way into florescent purple spandex. I have gathered the courage to commit to 2-3 hours in a building that smells of sweaty feet, moldy pipes, and dusty carpet. I have tasted of the overly cheesed pizza and frost bitten chicken strips. I have rolled on wobbly wheels at least once around the rink without completely biffing it. I have gleefully lifted my face to the flashing light above me and have ripped out “Play that Funky Music, White Boy” without paying any mind to its racially prejudice implications. I have come. I have paid my dues. And I have conquered: The night. The wheels. The Bee Gees. The pick-up lines from the “regulars” who skate better than they walk, despite their tight bell-bottomed trousers. The bruises from the rounds around the rink when I did biff it—and hard.” But now that your education is complete, you can happily drive away from the decaying cement rink and feel quite content never giving it another thought. You can check it off of your to-do list and forget all about it. But after one night (or maybe two), you may have only scratched the surface of all the work and effort that has been put into that old run-down rink in order for you to experience an authentic Disco Night.
For starters, you should know that the DJ works hard to create the right mood for Disco Night. The management of Classic Skating doesn’t let just any old employee DJ Disco Night. It’s the highest ranking position that a DJ at the rink can aspire to. A position that has to be worked up to, not only by becoming a talented DJ, but by working your fingers to the bone (almost quite literally) scrubbing dishes, unclogging toilets, and spraying foul sweaty skates with sanitizer at the end of the night. It’s hard work.
And becoming a good DJ takes a lot of training and a lot of DJ theory. There are distinct methods to DJ-ing, because you aren’t just throwing random songs out there; you’re manipulating energy. A DJ must be able to read his crowd (and I say “his” because it’s rare, at least at the rink, that a DJ is a female). A DJ has to know what mood his crowd is in and how to play with that mood to heighten their emotions. He has to play specific songs in a specific order at specific times. And the order of the songs can’t be preplanned, because the energy and mood of the rink can change so suddenly. A DJ must be sensitive, instinctive, and as my boss told me, “almost go by the spirit” when it comes to knowing what song to play next.
Beyond knowing what music to play and when to play it, a DJ must consider lighting and effects. The lighting must be as dramatic as shocking as the music. Each song requires different lighting, because each song conveys a different mood. Surprisingly, this takes a great deal of thought and “intuitive planning.” Especially since the lighting at Classic Skating is limited due to a tight budget. You’ve really got to get creative. It’s not enough to run the disco ball the entire night (plus it’s impossible because the track lighting that runs the disco ball will over heat after fifteen minutes anyway). The same goes for the black lights. You can’t keep them on all night, or they lose their effect. And sometimes, if a skater doesn’t dress wisely (i.e. sheer clothing), you can’t turn them on at all because it gets embarrassing for everyone else. It’s tricky business.
A DJ also has to be a wise people pleaser. He must juggle between pleasing those who are at Disco Night for the first time and only want to hear songs like “Stayin’ Alive” and “Brick House,” and pleasing the “regulars” who are sick of the generic disco music and want to delve into the songs that are more obscure. A DJ knows that he can’t and shouldn’t play all the songs that are requested. He must realize that most times, people don’t really know what they want to hear. Most of the songs they request would destroy the mood he has worked so hard to create.
Beyond all that a DJ does to create the right mood for Disco Night, the “regulars”—although they don’t have the best reputation—are vital to your disco skating experience. These hardy disco skaters prep long and hard to pull off the looks and moves they bring to the rink. Kip explained that he and his friends start prepping for Disco Night hours before they actually enter the rink. They methodically plan the outfits they will wear and how they will style their hair. They play disco music beforehand so they can be in the right mood and mindset when Disco Night begins. My friend Peter, a die-hard skater in his 50’s, offers classes for the regulars. When I worked there, they’d come to the rink every Tuesday for hour and a half lessons on spins, jumps, and other fancy skating techniques. So when you see a “regular” at the rink pulling off crazy moves, you need to know that he didn’t get that good on accident. Skating well takes a great amount of concentrated effort and a whole lot of practice.
A well trained DJ and these odd-ball “regulars” bring something unique to the rink: they show the majority—the one or two-timers—what skating was like in its prime. When it was a big deal. When it was not only a fad, but an art. They summon that longing for a time and culture that is now lost to most of us. Nostalgia for that great escape to the rink.
They’re also pretty entertaining.

Stream of Consciousness, Hear My Cry

2010-10-14T07:25:00.000-07:00

For class we had to experiment with, yet again, a unique writing style. (Now, now, don't get too excited. It's not more Twilight fan fiction, because that would be gross.) I chose "The List" because it was short, and I'm smart like that.

1. Where is your cell phone? In the side pocket of my backpack, smushed somewhere in between old granola bar/string cheese wrappers and an umbrella that’s threatening to mold. That’s kind of disgusting. I wonder what sort of creatures of fungus and bacteria are growing in my backpack. And then just think! I put my phone in there--my phone that is pressed up against my cheek for considerable amounts of time everyday. I am so gross.
2. Where is your significant other? At 7:35 am it is likely that Richard is asleep and that his stupid, stinky, needy dog is hogging the bed and forcing Richard out to the exiled perimeter of the mattress. So even though he is still asleep, and has been for quite some time now, he will wake up tired. I hate* that dog.

* Hate is a strong word. In this context it is being used by the writer for dramatic and comical effect. This, in no way, reflects the true feelings of said writer. Because, really, who could honestly hate a chawini dog that was found in a park scavenging for food, half starved to death, who looks up at you from that scrawny little body with those eyes, like two sister moons on fire, that seem to say to your soul, "I've been abused and abandoned. Help me Obi-wan-kenobi. You're my only hope"?

3. Your hair? My hair has become somewhat of a joke to me. This summer I bought a really bright box of red hair dye, thinking it would fade out to something mild. It never really did, and although I was at first frightened to have crayon-red hair, I get so many compliments on it I’ve maintained the unnatural color. I get multiple compliments daily--from random strangers--seriously, like, random strangers. People in parking lots, girls washing their hands next to me in the bathrooms, fast food workers. I guess it turns out that everyone likes crayon colored hair, but no one has the actual guts/stupidity to dye it themselves. The world is living vicariously through me. And I’m OK with that.
4. Your mother? My mother is a saint. Anyone who can raise 11 children all by themselves and have them all turn out relatively normal is a saint.
5. Your father? He died. I know, I know . . . I accept your apology. It’s OK. I’ve dealt with it.

For the most part.

6. Your favorite thing? People! But I guess people aren’t things. So, If I’m thinking of things then I’d have to say my guitar. It’s my catharsis on really rotten terrible no good very bad days.
7. Your dream last night? I was tossing and turning. I had a nightmare that I slept through my alarm and was unable to sneak up to campus to turn in a paper that was technically due last night by midnight. In my defense, I had it done by eleven, but was it my fault that the JFSB was locked? Of course not.
8. Your favorite drink? Water. I’m finding that milk makes me ill and that the citrus acid from juice gives my stomach a good turn as well. *gulp* I think I’m allergic to food.
9. Your dream/goal? To get to bed before midnight.
10. The room you're in? I’m in the library. I live here. I’ve been here since 7:15 am. I came here directly after slipping my late paper (which really should have been on time) in the box by my professors dark office in the JFSB. I’m hoping the darkness indicates that he hasn’t been on campus yet today, and that he took an early night last night and will not notice that my paper was not turned in by midnight. But that’s besides the point....we were talking about the library.
11. Your hobby? Umm...yes? (Seriously, who has time for hobbies when they are a supersenior? I’m probably a supersenior because I once had too many hobbies. Hobbies equal no graduation. Boo.)
12. Your fear? Everyone says dying alone. Now, is that really so bad? I think it would be much more scary for a professor to refuse your midterm because it wasn’t placed in his box before midnight on the 13th of October like it should have been. That’s terrifying!
13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? I’ve given up on this question. I’m never right.
14. Where were you last night? Trying to sneak into the JFSB, of course.
15. What you're not? An Amniturner.
16. Muffins? What the random? You’re really asking me about muffins?
17. Where you grew up? Confession: I never really grew up. I just pretend to be an adult when it’s required.
18. The last thing you did? This is a hard question. What does it mean by “did”? I just breathed, and typed the previous sentence, and drank my pineapple orange juice that will give me a stomach ache, and before that--before I came to the library to hang out with all the crazy early birds here--I was reattempting to sneak into the JFSB (but I guess this time it wasn’t sneaking because it wasn’t locked) and before that, well . . . well, I was sleeping.
19. What are you wearing? Sadly, clothing.
20. Your TV? TV is of the devil. It sucks people’s lives away. They spend their time watching shows like Friends secretly wishing they had real friends, just like Phoebe and Rachel and Joey. But the truth is, they’ll never have friends like that, so long as they are glued to that time sucking machine of technological doom!
21. Your pets? Cinder is a stray cat that showed up on our doorstep one day after I prayed that God would send me a cat to be my companion. She’s a pretty good cat, except for when you touch her belly the wrong way. Then she strikes out at you, claws sinking into your defenseless flesh. I think she has a tumor in her tummy.
22. Your computer? I don’t have a computer. Again, I live at the library.
23. Your life? Hahaha...(nervous laugh).
24. Your mood? Does a citrus stomachache count as a mood?
25. Missing someone? Well! Wouldn’t you like to know? . . . oh, you would? Well, of course I am. Always am. Always have been.
26. Your car? My car is the most practical thing I’ve ever purchased. It’s so economic it makes me blush.
27. Something you're not wearing? Socks. I probably should have worn them, because I’m wearing my leather moccasins and I’m assuming they’ll make my feet stink by the end of the day. Oops.
28. Last summer? Well, you know what I did. . . .
29. Like someone? I’m no grinch. I like most people.
30. Your favorite color? I hate this question. It’s one frequently asked on first dates and first days of school and in Relief Society when the teacher knows her lesson will be too short and wants to waste time “helping the class get better acquainted with each other”. I like most colors, just like the way I like people. That is, except for the people who ask me this question.
31. When was the last time you laughed? Yesterday. I read the best essay ever! It was about a girl who mourned over the death of her cat more than the death of her grandma. I know that doesn’t sound very nice, but it was hi-LAR-ious.
32. Last time you cried? Dude, I’m not volunteering that information.

Kids, don't try this at home

2010-09-22T16:22:00.000-07:00

I'm hesitant to share this, but honestly can't help it. For my class on teaching writing, we've been asked to research an unfamiliar online genre and then give duplicating it a go.

My genre: Fantasy fan fiction (don't ask).

My duplication: Twilight....I know, I know. But just keep reading and don't disown me yet.

Here goes nothing.

--------------

Chapter one: Edward's Discovery

“I’ve been miserable all day without you.” sulked Bella.

“”I’m so sorry,” crooned Edward, as his massive, masculine figure glided through the kitchen and swept Bella up into a princess hug. He kissed her cheek tenderly and said, “Remember Bella, I love you and think about you no matter where I am.”
“I do too. I just wish you were here more often. It hasn’t been easy to be away from you for eight hours every day. I miss you so much, that by lunch time I’m nearly dying. And I love you so much sometimes I feel I may burst out of this body and soar into the wide open sky.”
Working for the CIA to stop the Volturi had been the perfect job offer for Edward. And now that he and Bella had a child and a home to look after, Edward knew that he had to stop flying around the woods looking for trouble and settle down into a real job. He felt that this job at least offered security and the consistency of a 9-5 routine. Secretly, he hoped that one day he could join the field team in the CIA and chase the Volturi down on secret missions. But, for now, he was content working at his desk job, providing top secret information when the agents needed it and spending the rest of his time filing paperwork, checking facebook, and beating his co-workers at online Sudoku. It wasn’t a bad deal, really.
Plus, he thought, it gives Bella the semblance of a normal human life, and she really deserves that. Edward had once thought that he loved Bella more than any other creature on the earth could love someone, but his capacity for love for her had exploded when she willingly chose to spend an eternity with him as a cold, rock hard, sparkling, nocturnal, blood-hungry vampire. He had wanted to make up for it and give her a life that was as normal as possible.
That was when he found his desk job at the local CIA office in town and settled his new family down in the suburbs of Forks, Washington. It was a quiet neighborhood full of young, successful, middle-class families. For their anniversary, Edward had bought Bella every household appliance he could imagine to keep a housewife happy. She was so precious to him; he didn’t want her to go without anything. He felt so deeply for her, he would live and die and work and sweat for her until the stars fell out of the sky. This occupation helped him accomplish this, but it also gave him something amazing that he’d never felt before: confidence. For the first time in his very lengthy existence, he really felt good about himself. He felt like he was accomplishing great things, that finally he was needed in the world—in real life, as opposed to the dark hours and cold corners of the forest where vampire and werewolf clash and collide. Edward was happy, and he was starting to feel his teenage angst and insecurities melt away.
“So, my love, what have you been up to today?” posed Edward, gracefully sliding into a sleek black leather chair in the living room. Bella marveled and sighed over the way the black of the chair perfectly complimented his beautiful bronze hair and emphasized the pristine whiteness of his flawless pale skin.
“I’ve been sitting here at home all day, dreaming of you,” Bella cooed in a syrupy sweet voice. “You know that I only long to be with you. Your company is the only thing in the world that brings me happiness!”
Edward wanted to say the same thing in return, but something stopped him.
Bella, expecting a validating response but not receiving one, inquired insecurely, “Don’t you feel the same?”
“Well, you see Bella, it’s not that you don’t make me happy, or that I don’t enjoy spending time with you. It’s just . . . “
“Just what?!? Oh, why don’t you just go on and say it? You don’t love me anymore? You’ve found someone else? I’m not vampy enough for you?!?”
Enraged, Bella began to pace around the heart shaped perimeter of the living room rug, muttering to herself regrets about becoming a vampire, and odd bits about making the wrong choice and the earthy love that only werewolves were capable of. Edward, with immaculate swiftness, stood up from the cold black chair and rushed to Bella’s side. He placed his perfectly sculpted finger to her full, red lips to calm and quiet her. Bella swooned at the touch of his finger on her mouth; it felt as though a marbled finger from the gods had dammed up her rage.
“Bella, I meant to say that I love you and, yes, you make me happy, but I’m starting to discover that other things in life are making me happy too. That they’re giving me a different kind of happiness that’s pretty amazing.”
Bella’s face fell, and she stared down at her once clumsy toes.
Edward pulled her into a firm embrace and sighed, “Bella, I think it’s high time you started finding other things in your life that bring you happiness as well.”
“I’m confused,” stammered Bella. “What else is there to live for but you?”
“Well,” replied Edward, trying to convey in his voice the deep well of tenderness he felt for Bella in his heart, “what about picking up some hobbies? Or, going to college or pursuing a career?”
“But who will take care of little Renesmee?”
“Bella, our daughter has grown at an incredible rate. Sometimes I think you forget that she is a vampchild. Even though she’s only six months old, she’s already moved out into a studio apartment downtown. Actually, I think she’s moved in with . . . “
Edward stopped himself suddenly, thinking about the consequences of mentioning Jacob, Bella’s former lover, in the middle of such a heated argument. Instead, he tenderly whispered, “I’m afraid we’re empty nesters now.”
“So, hobbies and school, huh? I’d never considered them before. All I see, and dream, and think about is you. I don’t even know where to start or what I’d want to do!”
“I know,” said Edward, still trying to be as sensitive as possible. “That seems to be the problem.”
It had dawned on Edward as he had started to feel a sense of achievement, purpose, and self-esteem from his new job that Bella had nothing which gave her that same sense of achievement. In fact, most girls Edward had been interested in before he met Bella were multi-faceted and talented—that is, before he had to ship them off to foreign countries to withstand the temptation of biting them and sucking their blood. He had just been so distracted with the challenge of Bella’s unreadable mind, and so caught up in the drama of their love-triangle relationship, that he’d never noticed the disparity before. Bella had no real personality. She had no other passions, no interests, no hobbies. He still loved her, but he was starting to see that although their love was thrilling and sensational, it was also fleeting. Certainly, he thought to himself during his quiet moments at work (in between games of online checkers and minesweeper), a deeper sort of love, happiness and fulfillment is out there. But now, how to obtain it?
“Please Bella, just give it a try.”
“I’m not sure. I’m not really good at hobbies and school.”
“Come on. Do it for me? Because you love me?”
“Oh, Edward, I’d do anything for you!” Bella exclaimed sinking into his embrace. “I’ll start surfing the net for the latest trends in local hobbies tonight! And I’ll even sign up for a few classes at Fork’s Community College.”
“I knew that you’d understand, Bella,” Edward said as he cradled her delicate face in his large, powerful hands.
“Oh, Edward, I just love you so much. Thank you for caring about me enough to be honest. Is there anything else that you’d like?”
“Yes,” he said reluctantly.
“What is it?” Bella said calmly as she fell into the deep warmth of his amber eyes.
Edward hesitated, and then said resolutely, “Marriage counseling.”
“Marriage WHAT?!?” Bella exploded, recoiling from his embrace.
“Well, you see, I’ve been doing a lot of research about normal, happy, healthy, and well balanced relationships during my spare time at the office,” Edward explained, speaking quickly--afraid of another emotional breakdown from Bella, “and It turns out that, well, our, umm….well, our relationship needs a lot of work.”

Mosaic Me

2010-08-27T13:33:00.000-07:00

Ok, this is kind of narcissistic, but cool. I stole this from a co-worker's blog, but it's a really snazzy idea for a desktop backdrop. I thought I'd share the love.

Here's my mosaic:

1. Patty Griffin. This woman is THE woman. She is the woman I wish I could be, but humbly submit that I could not. She is the goddess of folk music. *Sigh*

2. Zion's National Park. Can't ever seem to get enough of this place. Heaven on earth.

3. Snowboarding is my cure to the winter blues. Nothing better than heading up to the slopes and leaving your worries behind you. Escapist? Yes. A sin? No.

4. The Book of Mormon has seriously transformed my life. I don't know who I would be without it. I love this book!

5. Chacos!!! The saddest part of the year is when it's just too cold and snowy to wear these beauties anymore. I heart my chacos.

6. Biggest weakness? Chocolate chip cookies. I can refuse all sweets. Ice cream and brownies ain't got no thang on me, but a chocolate chip cookie? No resistance.

7. The Ashton Memorial in Lancaster, England. I've decided that my heart will always pine for this place. There is no satisfaction.

8. Yes, I'm a cat person. And especially when you see kittens like this. I can't wait to be on old, crazy cat lady, playing my banjo on my front porch with cats swarming 'round my ankles and foam rollers in my hair.

9. This is not just a random picture of a guitar. This is a) John Mayer's gorgeous hands playing his favorite b) Fender Stratus Guitar. Two beauties; one great photo.

10. The Manchester Eye in Piccidilly Gardens, Manchester, England. Never rode it, but I sure did have some great conversations about the restored gospel in its shadow.

11. Missionaries for life! I think this guy should be our mascot. I mean, really, who doesn't loves a good ole sock puppet missionary preaching the gospel?

12. Stone Henge. I know, I know . . . I'm pretty obsessed with England.

13. This is a groovy photo of a train station in NYC. Train stations are by far some of the best places to people watch. I love analyzing people's shoes and determining what kind of people they are soley based on their shoe type.

14. India: the final frontier. My next globe trotting destination. I can't wait.

15. I found a new love in something old--vinyl records. There's something enchanting about crisp, crackling sound of records.

The end.

And here's how you can make one for yourself:

Step 1: Go to flickr.com
Step 2: In another window open http://bighugelabs.com/flickr/mosaic.php
Step 3: Choose 4 columns, 3 rowsStep 4: Answer the questions in the search bar of flickr and pick your favorite picture on the page and paste the address into the mosaic maker. Create the mosaic and then save it to your computer and post it as a picture.

Enjoy!

This is the funniest thing I've seen all day

2010-06-20T21:38:00.000-07:00

"$100 looking for room to rent. desperate
midvale, UT 84047 - Jun 20, 2010
this is a weird ad not normally posted in here. i just got out of a bad relationship and had to move out. i dont really have any money so i was hoping i could trade my xbox 360 for a room to rent. i dont care if its the couch or a bed. im just in desperate need of a place to live right now, i could do rent at the end of the month. i just have my xbox as trade right now. if ur interested then hit me up, anything would be appreciated"

All Good Things

2010-06-17T12:08:00.001-07:00

And . . . I'm back!

I have certainly experience the most exhilarating, challenging, rewarding, redeeming, and speediest eighteen months of my life. (Seriously, time is such a bandit.) I LOVED MY MISSION! It was all that my heart hoped for and more. The most regrettable part about my mission in England is my lack of ability to share with others just what it meant to me. I find myself talking people to death about it, but all my gab still does the mission no justice. Mayhaps it is something you've got to experience firsthand to truly "get". What I will proclaim (and will do so now and forever) is that the mission has opened my heart to the reality of Christ and His Atonement. He is truly our Savior. He saves us from all things imaginable; the world, temptation, sorrow and pain, and even ourselves. It has been a deep honor and privilege to be his servant, and to walk in His footsteps and by so doing come to know Him in a very real way. Elder David A. Bednar said that we can meet Christ spiritually long before we meet him physically. And I say amen to that.

The transition home has been bittersweet. I miss every single thing about the mission. Everthing. Even the smell of sewers, dog poop, and mold overheating in the hot English summer sun. However, I adore, Adore, ADORE being surrounded by my nieces and nephews. They are huge! Corey and Travis are like, all growed-up, with deep voices and muscles and everything. And nothing has been better than having my mother as my companion. I follow her around the house nearly all day. Most of the time, I don't think she has caught on to what I am doing (or maybe she is just too nice to say anything about it). Last week, however, she did say that I needed to spend some time downstairs in my room . . . alone! I am still getting used to this idea. Life's just no fun when you don't have someone attached to your hip to share it with. Mom has also insisted that I sleep in. It felt so wrong, but my body responded well. I was conked out for hours. It was ridiculoso! Holy Hannah, I had not realized just how tired I was.

It's been loverly to catch up with friends and family and realize that not a whole lot of "catching up" has been required. A friend is a friend is a friend. And nothing changes that. Except for a few things, I suppose...like matrimony, or really bad eggs, or unpaid debts, or a loathing for ABBA *snort*. But since all these things are irrelevant, a friend is still a friend is a friend. Right.

Apologies go out for the rusty blog, or should I say rusty writing. It is strange to write outside of the prescribed email format of, "report on your companionship, week's work, and things learned in your personal study." Durrr...Must. Have. Structure.

New things/long lost old things that are quite nice for me:

1) A long awaited return to Patty Griffin. Oh, how she makes my heart sing. And the good news: she has a new album. Halleluiah!

2) Mountains. Wow, I tell you what, they are HUGE! Does anyone realize just how HUGE these things are?!? And hooray! My sense of direction has been so graciously gifted back to me. "The big mountains equal east . . . the big yellow one is the sun! The yellow one is the sun!"

3) Smaller food portions. British meals were legit. I did not miss a moment. The gravy, the yorkshire puddings, the sausages, the parsnips and turnips. I did all within my eating power to live it up. We won't even mention the amount of chocolate consumption. Oh dear. It was glorious. But even with all the glory of the gravies and cocoa, I find it pleasing to be now in control of my diet. Wahoo.

4) Ok, this is the confession to end all confessions. I made a mistake. I started a novel. And not your typical classic. It's a novel that is a bit escapist. (Yikes, I know. This is bad.) And not only did I just start this novel, but I fell in love with this novel. It sufficiently swept me off my feet. I may or may not have finished all but two chapters of this novel all in one night. (Ok, as long as I'm confessing here, I might as well be honest; I stayed up til 5am reading this novel.) Oops! I opened it up innocently thinking, I'll just read a chapter or two before I retire to bed. The plot thickened. "One more chapter, and then I'm done." I began ignoring the voice inside that said, "you need to get up and be productive tomorrow. It's just a novel, it's fiction. Put it down. You don't have to do this to yourself! Sister Mather get a grip! (Yes, I still call myself that, just as I still call trousers by their proper name. How embarrassing to call them pants!) As each chapter lead to the next I eventually found myself 3/4ths through the book and threw the voice of reason out the window. I was past the point of no return. The novel was mine to finish that night! Do you know how long it has been since I have done that?! Rewind to 6th grade when I would "sacrifice" my weekends ("Sure mom and dad, you go on a date. I'll tend Sara . . . if I have to. ") hanging out with friends, snuggle up on my bottom bunk to one of the many great books in my greasy Redwall collection. I was a fanatic. I don't know what it was about little rodents fighting with birds to defend their abbeys and castles, but every time I'd go to Barnes and Noble I'd step out with yet another addition to the series. Maybe it was my hope that the punk princess mouse who wanted to be a warrior would keep creeping up into the storyline. Gotta love a fighter. My step-dad, Neil, was concerned. "Evelyn, why don't you try something different, like Dickens?" It wasn't for me...at the time.

Late night reading is a genetic trait in my family. When we were young, my mom would come into our room at bedtime, help us with our evening prayers, kiss us goodnight, and switch off the lights. This is when the flashlights and books would come out from underneath the pillows. Mom was no fool, however. She'd make a point to pop her head in and tell us to put the books and flashlights away. Old habits die hard, apparently. Geh. And it doesn't help when you find a novel all about England, and Darcy, and the internal torment of dealing with reality verses escapism, and the author's voice sounds spookily like your own, and her vignettes are your own and you slightly fear and wonder if she has not secretly picked your brain open and feasted on the madness that is "Evelyn".

Confession complete then: The book is Austenland. The author, Shannon Hale. A wickedly brilliant woman. It's silly. It's fun. It's serves no sensible purpose but to merely entertain and to persuade girls to never give up on that Darcy dream. Heathcliffs are not worth the time/heartache (and neither are silly vampires or werewolves, as long as we are on the subject). I echo to wise words of John Bennion, "Go for a Darcy!" I totally dig this book. It's Helen Fielding gone clean and Dave Barry gone female. It's the novel I should have written myself but Shannon Hale beat me to it. Bravo, my dear. Bravo.

Oy! These numbered lists are intended to help me keep my writing brief, readable, and varied. And then I met Mr. Tangent. Doh. I sure do love that man.

Good to be home. I live in the States by day, and dream of England by night. It's a decent equilibrium, for now.

Mission Address and such

2008-11-17T09:42:00.000-08:00

Hey all,

I'm leaving on my mission in just a few days here and I am super stoked! Just in case I won't see any of you before I leave, I wanted to give one last shout out of appreciation to everyone who has supported me through this process. I couldn't have gotten this far without my awesome friends and family and I am so freakin' excited to get out there and serve the Lord. If you would like to be sent authentic British postcards of Prince William or other British beaus, you can write me here:

MTC Address:
Sister Evelyn Mather
England Manchester Mission
England Missionary Training Center
Temple Way
Chorley, Lancashire
England PR6 7EQ
United Kingdom

Post MTC/Packages Address:
Sister Evelyn Mather
England Manchester Mission
Springwood, Suite G5
Booths Park, Knutsford,
England WA16 8QZ
United Kingdom

Once again, thank you to everyone for everything. I'll be thinking of you all (but hopefully not too much, because I gotta focus man!) from across the pond.

All my love,

Evelyn....err, scratch that!

Cheers,

Sister Mather

23 days and counting....

2008-10-28T12:05:00.000-07:00

The time is drawning near, and I'll be taking off for my mission soon. So how does a pre-mission dame like me spend her time, thoughts, and energy? So far, it has gone as follows....

Prepping for the Mission: As my departure date gets closer my brain has started to have crazy fits at an increasing rate. In the beginning--back in August when there was still plenty of time to get things done and still enjoy leisurely activities--the biggest brain tantrums were centered around an overwhelming feeling of inadequacy. My trail of thought ran a chaotic race of pointless circles inside my head. It would start asking me terrible things, like, "Well, geez, you grew up in the church, but do you really know the doctrine?" "You're just a silly girl, do you really think you can make a difference?" "Remember how you're probably the biggest homebody on campus? How are you going to survive 18 months without the constant contact of your family and friends in the valley?" In short, I could hear that creepy, scratchy voice--which is so iconic to me from the Joseph Smith movie at Temple Square--telling me, "You are a fool." (What an odd choice for the voice of Satan, btw. It sounds like the voice my brother Marty used to make when joking around.) Anywho, I've been reading "Preparation Precedes Power" by Randy Bott (BYU Mission Prep Instructor extraordinaire!) and it turns out that this is very typical of pre-missionaries. That's right, I'm normal. Eat that Satan. Of course Satan would be playing up on my fears--I'm the biggest scardy cat I know. I've just moved to my parent's house and I sleep in their basement. I can't go to sleep without the hall light on, I'm such a wimp. Of course, maybe if you saw their basement you would understand. There's a well in the food storage room. Yup, a real live well (not to be confused with whale-because that would be silly). Like, any day Samara from the ring could come crawling out of that thing with her wet black hair draped over her face, claiming that I only have 8 days to live! Yes, our basement is freaky. But back to the mission.... I would highly recommend Bott's book and prep class to anyone, young and old, even considering the mission. If you have little kids, I'd start spoon feeding them these nuggets of greatness. It is NEVER too early to start your preparation for the mission, and this books is clear and direct about what should and should NOT be done prior to qualifying for missionary service. So, hallelujah, I am not inadequate--just susceptible to feelings of discouragement that the adversary is dumping on me daily. Good news though: it turns out (in case you haven't figured this one out yet) that the Spirit converts people to the truth of the Gospel, not Evelyn. So, as long as I do all I can to prepare and learn and stick my heart out there in the work, God will make up for all of my many inadequacies and, hot dang, some pretty fantastic missionary work will happen!

Body Worlds Exhibit: I've never done the cadaver thing, but I remember that I thoroughly enjoyed dissecting pig fetuses and cow eyeballs back in 11th grade Biology (so lovingly dubbed "Biology for dummies" because, well, it was). Everyone who had a brain in my high school took AP Bio, except for Adrienne, Gladys, and I, because we were too lazy. And it gave us an excuse to invent things with duct tape, write man-hater poetry, write a book about Tommy the Molecule, and win the Science Fair that year with a project summoned up and slapped together the day before. The day we were assigned to dissect fish I was the only girl in my group. And, guess who slit that sucker open because all the jocks were about to vomit? Yes, me. It was just like gutting a fish, so no biggy. I thought it might get me brownie points with all the hot jocks, but it turns out they could spot a nerd even if she were in Bio for dummies. My delight with the trout's anatomy must have given me away. Sad day. Those jocks were good looking, even if they were mindless.
But, Body Worlds! How inspirational! What a beautiful collection of human bodies. I know that sounds weird, but you've got to see it to understand. It inspired me to take better care of my own body and to appreciate the God given health that I have been blessed with. Seriously, the more I learn about the intricate details of this life--biology, astronomy, meteorology, anatomy, etc.--the more I am convinced that not only is there a God, but that He has a brilliant mind and an exceptional eye for beauty. And we are His most prized work of art. Please take the time to see this exhibit as soon as you can. More info can be found about the Utah exhibit at http://www.theleonardo.org/bodyworlds/

Recording my Music: I've said I was going to do this for about a year now, but I am a slackerpants and have never made the effort to do it. Fortunately for me and my lack of assertion, my friend Matt Shaw is taking a recording class and is using the music that I have cooked up, with the additional solo guitar genius of Tim Shaw to put a little lovin' together in the Y studio here on BYU campus. It'll be great to have my stuff nicely recorded before I take off on my mission and forget it all. People have asked me if I will continue to write music while I am serving my mission. I could, I guess, but I imagine myself being very happy in the mission field, with next to zero heartbreak (I'm banking on that--since I've been dished out way too many servings of heartbreak in the past few years), and my best music is all sad and angsty and melancholy. I'm not sure how a happy, spirited song would go over with my bluesy style. It might sound lame--and I will not write lame sauce music. I'll leave that to the experts.

Zion National Park: I decided to have one last outing with my favoritest Rebeccahead. We shimmied on down to Zion's this week and did some stellar hiking. After scrambling up to the top of Angel's Landing, making a sand angel, feeding the critters they specifically ask you not to (how could we resist? They are so darn cute!), and stumbling back down with sandy feet and stinky pits, we decided it would be a good idea to jump in the river and refresh ourselves. Needless to say, the October water was freezing. Every time I jumped in my mind would freeze, I would get dizzy spells, and nearly pass out as the river's gently flow pushed my up onto a safe mossy rock. We decided to stop before we passed out and hiked back down to the buses while we watched our freckly skin morph into patches of red, white, purple and blue. Attempting to salvage my outer limbs, which were at this point smurf blue, I stuck my half frozen hands into my stinky pits. Ah, warmth! However, when I pulled them out of my pits, I realized that the pressure from my arms has pushed all blood out of my hands and now instead of blue, they were starch white. It took a good twenty minutes on the bus until I started to feel the tingling sensation of life in my digits again, and another hour by the campfire before I felt like a normal human being with normal and functioning hands. The next morning our muscles were sore in a peculiar way. We suspect that the lactic acid mulling around in our muscles from our exertion during the Angel's Landing Hike hardened prematurely when our bodies were exposed to the cold water. It could be completely incorrect, but it remains our fierce suspicion. But! ask me if it was worth the jump from the red rock cliff; if it was worth the herd of gawking German tourists snapping photos at the rare species of crazy American females (Rebecca and I) jumping Geronimo-style into the water; if it was worth the thrilling sensation of taking a risk and doing that Carpe Diem thing that I recommend to almost every person I know. And I say to you, "Heck, yes!" a million times over.

Cleansing Diet: So, now that I have returned from Zion alive and well, and have consequently given my adorable metabolism and extra boost (really, I adore it, and I freakin' deserve to! I've worked hard for this sucker), I am now starting my scheduled cleansing diet. It's a three day program, so no big deal, right? I am a wonder women in embryo! I can do anything...well, I can do anything for three days! (It's good to start somewhere.) Most days, when I am an inactive office worker/slave/bum, I can get by on nearly nothing, and I typically do. Daily office w/s/b diet consists of grapefruit juice, granola, Sobe, and chocolate. However, when my metabolism acts up I turn into a carnivorous raging beast! I go on dates in triple fold in order to satiate my hunger (boys are a beautiful source of protein-packed meals, and I adore them anyway). But, now I have a dilemma. My metabolism is in its prime beastly state and I am stuck with this cleanse business for three days. Be strong, I tell myself. But I am on hour 4 of 72 and I am having hallucinations of peanut m&ms and pizza. Must. Be. Strong. My mad love affair with chocolate will just have to wait until Friday. Oh, unrequited love is always the worst!

This.Week's.Favorites

2008-10-17T15:29:00.000-07:00

Favorite things of the week: I stole this sucker from Adrienne, and she made it up all by her little self. She's so creative, and I'm such a boring copy cat. I think that's why we make the best sort of best friends. I just leech everything off of her and leave her feeling gratified. :) I do love my Adi-pooh.

Breakfast-Half of a Hershey's chocolate bar while speeding to the Temple this morning. There's nothing like a nice healthy serving of chocolate to get you going in the morning!

Music- You can make fun of me all you want, because if I weren't me, I'd make fun of me. Best iTunes purchase of the week?*gulp* Jesse McCartney's latest album "Departure." Yeah, yeah, just go ahead and laugh, but this kid's got some potential! He's like a little baby version of JT. It's pretty precious. Best song? "Leavin'"

Clothing-My aunt Debbie let me borrow a sweet blouse she wore when she was in college. It's a vintage red quarter sleeve beauty with pleats down the front middle and an off centered collar. I feel so stankin' classy.

Drink-Passionfruit drink from Se Llama Peru. I can always count on my Rick outings for new tasty discoveries.

Deal-10% off of all shoes purchased for the mission (even if they're frumpy/boring shoes). Being a missionary (or pre-missionary, in my case) in Utah rocks! Everyone loves to give you sweet deals. I don't know why anyone would complain about being called to the Provo, UT mission.

Moment-Falling off of the curb south of campus, while trying to look like an adorable/creative child in a college student's body. I am so graceful.

Saying- "You, Me, Pumpkins and Carving Knives. Let's do it." -Katie Geilman in reference to Jack Handy's quote, “Sometimes when I feel like killing someone, I do a little trick to calm myself down. I'll go over to the person's house and ring the doorbell. When the person comes to the door, I'm gone, but you know what I've left on the porch? A jack-o-lantern with a knife stuck in the side of its head with a note that says 'You.'"

Political-Joe the Plumber...SNL style. It's good to know Joe has a nice shoe box to sleep in at night. :)

TV- The Office: "Wanna go out?" -Micheal to Holly.

School- It will be over next week! Please pray for me! I need to ace a Spanish test next week and this little white girl needs all the help she can get.

Smell- Fructis Garnier Hairspray. I kid you not, I could successfully use this stuff as perfume. My hair smells so darn attractive. I would date it if I could, but unfortunately I have a mission to attend to....

Social- Temple and lunch date this morning with Sarah Ray.

Possession- Micro-fishnet tights = Conservative hotness. Mmm boy!

The Waiting Game

2008-10-13T16:10:00.000-07:00

pas·sion
[pash-uhn] -noun

any powerful or compelling emotion or feeling, as love or hate.
a strong or extravagant fondness, enthusiasm, or desire for anything: a passion for music.
the object of such a fondness or desire.
an outburst of strong emotion or feeling.

I'm wiggin' out a little. Ok, I lied. I'm wiggin' out a lot. I'm hanging out in the twilight zone. (And no, I don't mean the one in the BYU bookstore. I'm talking about the one with the groovy theme song. You know it. The one that goes do DO do do, do DO do do.) I stand back with my jaw on the floor, amazed by the way my life is starting to sound like a broken record. (A cool broken record though--like the one you would mix into a P. Diddy song.) Can I just play it back for ya?

As of December 15th 2006 my one and only shining passion was England. I sold my maroon Honda, Accord and my soul to pay for the England and Literature Study Abroad program. Nothing sounded as appealing as backpacking through the UK with a bunch of lit/creative writing junkies. And I mean nothing! My typical passions faded into the background.
School and Classes? "Who cares?" I thought, "I'll soon be reading Wordsworth over his grave and frolicking through the Moors that inspired Emily Bronte to birth that gorgeous and odious fellow Heathcliff!" (My heart still goes out to you Heathcliff. You are my one and only fictional crush. *sigh*)
Work? It was only the means to an end. The more I worked, the more chocolate and pashminas I could buy in the UK. I still can't believe that I swept floors in that hair salon for so many boring hours.
Boys? They were lame sauce. Like lumpy, moldy gravy type lame sauce too. Not even the lame sauce that is worth straining through the lame with your teeth to get to the tasty sauce. I ignored them and decided to only respond to them when they offered food. I had to pinch all my pennies for this trip and free food was the only economical option, clearly.
Chocolate? I figured it was silly to waste any time/calories on the waxy American crap when Cadburry was faithfully waiting for me across the pond.
Music? Everything revolved around finding the perfect playlist for my iPod. My trip to England was to be perfect, and that meant that it needed the perfect soundtrack. All other singers who were not folk, Brittish or John Mayer (because he trumps everything, even England) became worthless to me.
Snowboarding? Expensive...but still a necessary/guilty pleasure. I guess I didn't exactly give this sucker up. I had to buffen up my quads somehow for all the insane hiking that would go on in England--right?

So where do I sit now while I am watching the clock tick tock tick tock and counting the days until I report? Passionless.

Classes? I have two more weeks until the end of the block, baby! I've exponentially lost interest as each week has flown by. Why would I want to do homework when I could do more exciting mission related stuff like applying for my visa, shopping for frumpy clothes, and studying up on Preach My Gospel?
Work? I sure do love working for Jon Mott and know that I will miss it. Wow, I can't believe that I've been doing this techy stuff for three years now. If I'm not a computer pro now, I don't know when I'll ever be.
Boys? Ok, can I just put out a word of advice to any women out there in the LDS world who are struggling to swipe dates? GET YOUR MISSION PAPERS! You don't even have to go (although I would recommend it, because a) you get to serve the Lord 100%, b) you receive mega blessings and if you don't believe me than just read my previous post, and c) if you serve now you will return when I do, and we could be friends and maybe even roommates and I would still have friends when I get back from the mish) but at least get those suckers in your hands. Once you have them, the boys will come in legion. Maybe they won't be the type of boys you really want, because most likely they're commitmentphobes, but they can at least serve as guinea pigs until you get the swing of things down with the dating game. As soon as your confidence level has peaked with the pigs, you can move onto the major leagues. *Shoulder shrug* Or, you could really serve that mission, because gee, wouldn't it be neat if you were called to my mission and if you could serve as my companion? I know it's far fetched, but still, it would be neat.
So did this method work for me? Well, I don't know if that's information I'd share on a public blog, so you can fill in the blank yourself. Tee hee.
Chocolate? I've been nervously hogging down Hershey's chocolate bars for the past few days, but only because they've been the only thing around. Becca and crew had a failed campfire last week and the smores did not happen, which means that I was left with 8 chocolate bars. What would you do if 8 innocent chocolate bars were smiling up at you from your tupperware pantry box? I would eat them/have eaten them. However, I am still very much looking forward to Cadburry! It is the bestest chocolate in the whole wide world! And I'm pretty sure that I gained 10lbs that I can attribute soley to the giant Cadbury bars John Bennion would bring to us from Tesco. I sure am glad that the old "chocolate causes acne" legend has been debunked, because mmmm boy! Do I love chocolate! Only 39 days until my mad affair with Cadbury can begin!
Music? I kid you not, I feel guilty buying anything on iTunes that is not mission worthy. I've even been neglecting John Mayer. John freakin' Mayer!!! I feel like I've been infected with this strange pre-mission disease. Nothing is worth laying down greenbacks for that does not talk of God/gospel/etc. Even Janice Kapp Perry is starting to sound appealing....and I'm totally kidding, because I would never go that far. *Puke.* Lately I have bought 3 (three) different renditions of "Jesus Christ the Apple Tree", have been considering investing in BYU Men's Chorus's Greatest Hits (if that actually exists), and am deeply coveting Jordan's collection of Mindy Gledhill's music. Shoot, I haven't even felt like playing my own music lately. My little Yamaha c-40 has started to collect dust.
Snowboarding? I've almost forgotten what this is. It seems like it's been forevertime since I've hit those silver slopes. I'm hoping that we'll get some good powder before I leave so I can board one last time. However, I also have the looming fear in my head that I'd break a leg while boarding and then I'd have to wait to serve and consequently get sent somewhere else--somewhere else that is not England. :( I don't know if it's worth the risk.

Did anyone else feel this way before their mission? Please, console me, tell me I'm normal, and that everything will be alright. Until then I will continue to bang my head on this desk here and count down the days.

38 and seven eighths...

38 and three quarters...

38 and one half...

Could life get any better? I surmise that it could not!

2008-09-10T12:24:00.000-07:00

Top 25 Reasons I'm Smiling as of 09-10-08:

My call to the England Manchester Mission. Seriously, I thought the excitement would wear off by now, and I still wake up every morning expecting it to be gone, but? I continually find myself thinking that I may burst at any moment. Two more months, baby!
iTunes Store. It may suck up a large chunk of my spending money, but shoot, is it ever worth it. I indulged this week on some oldies: No Rain by Blind Melon, Zombie Zoo by Tom Petty, Never Tear Us Apart by INXS and Peaches by The Presidents of the United States of America. I remain a firm believer that money really can buy happiness....even if it's momentary.
7 am runs in this GORGEOUS rainy weather.
A healthy curfew that allows me to enjoy my 7 am runs.
A gorgeous boy who supports a healthy curfew.
Dining with my England family on Saturday at the Bombay House. Curry and England people=bliss.
Said gorgeous boy enjoys company of England family and vice versa.
The prospect of going through the temple on Saturday!
The prospect of seeing my family at the temple on Saturday!!!
The time spent last night with my wonderful mother shopping for temple clothing and eating and Mimi's Cafe.
Happiness that allows me to use cheesy words like "wonderful", "amazing", exclamation marks, etc. without any internal shuddering, puksies, or guilt.
Chacos which keep my feet happy, healthy, and smiling.
Granola bars on sale at Smith's: 5 boxes for 5 dollars!
Hot shoes found at the D.I. during every visit, without fail.
My ability to weave red into my own hair, costing me 8 bucks instead of 80.
Lizard Lava flavored Sobe gifted to me by the gorgeous boy.
The music of Hildegard von Bingen. Finally! Gregorian chants for women!
Getting my spacious office/glorified cubicle back in the Testing Center (aka Hell) after working the entire summer cramped up next to Becky's desk space. (Not that I don't love you Becky, because I do. I honestly love you.)
CTR ring sale in the BYU Bookstore during Education Week. Boy, has Provo made a zoobie out of me.
Bosses like Jon Mott who give peons like me bi-annual raises for no apparent reason.
John Mayer's "Where the Light Is" album/DVD. So lovely.
Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens. (Please pick up on that reference.)
Rachel's yummy pesto sauce and french bread.
Finding myself surrounded by friends and family who love and support me.
A Father in Heaven who knows us all individually and loves us even though we are pretty stupid most of the time, and who helps His stupid children erase past mistakes and make new decisions that are much, much better.

A Mission Call To Trump All Others!

2008-08-27T12:16:00.000-07:00

I slid the heavy cream paper out of the envelope and saw one thing: Manchester England. And then? Jumping, screaming, and giggling. "Where are you going?!?" my family members exclaimed. "I'm going back!" I said, "I'm going to England!"

I received my call exactly one week ago and still can't believe my luck. Holy cow! I'm going to England on my mission! Could my life possible get any better? Could I feel any more blessed? I could not. It is a dream to me and I feel like the Lord is spoiling me beyond anything I deserve. Not only do I have a mega crush on anything that is British, but this is also the mission that my late father served, which is especially sentimental for me.

I report on November 21st to the Preston MTC. Until then I will be taking block classes at BYU and living/working in Provo.

I truly feel that the Lord is blessing me in every way possible. Before I turned in my papers I was worried about the timing of my call. I still need to take one more semester of Spanish in order to fulfill my GE requirements. I considered staying another semester and putting my availability date near the end of December, when the semester ends. However, I strongly felt that I needed to turn my papers in as soon as I could, and so I did hoping that everything else could be taken care of. I'm happy to say that things are working out really well for me. I found a place I can stay for just a couple months and I've also been able to work with the chair of the Spanish department who has granted me permission to audit the class I need and test out of the course before I leave for the mission. I know that the Lord's hand has been in all of this tricky logistic business and I am so grateful that He loves me and is looking out for the little details in my life.

Since I received my call, I've been pouring through the photos from my study abroad in England last summer. Here are a few photos from my mission area.

Anywho, I am so happy with the prospect of serving. Thanks to everyone for all your encouragement and support.

Love,
Sister Mather

No, I was not bored at work...

2008-08-15T14:46:00.000-07:00

One Word Challenge (it's pretty challenging...really.)

1. Where is your cell phone? purse

2. Where is your significant other? Guitarcase

3. Your hair? butchered

4. Your mother? Superwoman

5. Your father? Legend

6. Your favorite thing? Family

7. Your dream last night? omen

8. Your favorite drink? Grapefruit

9. Your dream/goal? Joy

10. The room you're in? Cubicle

11. Your hobby? Music

12. Your fear? isolation

13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? India (why not?)

14. Where were you last night? moving

15. What you're not? bitter

16. Muffins? deceptive

17. Where you grew up? bubble

18. The last thing you did? backpacked

19. What are you wearing? art

20. Your TV? never

21. Your pets? boys

22. Your computer? iphonezilla

23. Your life? Mission

24. Your mood? goofy

25. Missing someone? always

26. Your car? Europe

27. Something you're not wearing? ring

28. Last summer? nomad

29. Like someone? prohibited

30. Your favorite color? coral

31. When was the last time you laughed? currently

32. Last time you cried? noon

33. Who will resend this? clueless

Waiting for my rocket to come...

2008-08-07T13:12:00.000-07:00

So, it's official. My mission papers have been sent! Well, actually they were sent last week, but I've been a lazy blogger. Anywho, I thought I'd make it publically known to all so you can start brainstorming brilliant ideas for MTC packages.

Does this all seem a bit sudden to you? Don't worry. You're not alone. The mission came up somewhat randomly in my life. I've always wanted to go, but honestly never felt like it would be right to go. I prayed about it a lot when I was 19, and again when I was 20, but didn't feel like it was an extremely pressing item of business that I needed to prepare for. Finally, when I was approaching 21, I prayed about it and felt again that it wasn't right, so I threw in the towel and set my course to graduate from the Y in the spring of 2009. End of story, right? Wrong. This past spring the mission came up in a conversation with a close friend. It sparked something inside of me. I decided to inquire one more time. This time around I felt shockingly different. I felt good about it. I kept thinking, "Are you sure God? Are you sure it's really ok for me to go? You're not playing any tricks on me?" I was so flippin' excited to feel that God was finally giving me his stamp of approval. Woot!

I'm excited to start a new chapter of my life. I know that I will be missing everyone and I'm only starting to realize how much I will be sacrificing (I've got a sweet little life set up here in P-town), but I am also excited to do something so challenging! Admitedly, I am also terrified, and nervous, and extremely anxious and impatient to receive my call. And all I can do now is wait for my call and learn a lesson in patience.

Anywho, I love you all and will let you know when I receive my call!

My favorite fairy tale

2008-07-14T07:57:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time in a land far away, a beautiful, independent, self-assured princess happened to come upon a frog as she sat contemplating ecological issues on the shores of an unpolluted pond in a verdant meadow near her castle.

The frog hopped into the princess' lap and said: " Elegant Lady, I was once a handsome prince, until an evil witch cast a spell upon me. One kiss from you, however, and I will turn back into the dapper, young prince that I am, and then, my sweet, we can marry and set up housekeeping in your castle with my mother, where you can prepare my meals, clean my clothes, bear my children, and forever feel grateful and happy doing so. "

That night, as the princess dined sumptuously on lightly sauteed frog legs seasoned in a white wine and onion cream sauce, she chuckled and thought to herself: "I don't freakin' think so!"

Happy Month for Movies and Music

2008-07-11T07:29:00.000-07:00

First off, I'm not a huge movie buff. I'd rather do homework than sit on my butt watching a pointless film while my life ticks away. It's not that I have anything against movies as a leisurely activity, it's just that I get mega depressed watching beautiful people doing exciting things through a glass screen while I lie on a dirty apartment couch fattening myself up on kettle korn. It's like watching the TV show Friends in a friendless apartment. You can't help but feel your lack of coolness in comparison.
But secondly, I do like a good flick every now and then. And, thanks to rottentomatoes.com, I can now eliminate all stupid films from my life (i.e. anything with The Rock, Nicolas Cage, Anime characters, Seth Graves-type films, typical flicks about an ugly girl getting miraculously gorgeous and popular over night (which, of course, saves her from the inevitable doom of just being and looking like herself--the horror!), and those tricky films that are really good except for that one part (I now want you to imagine a delicious ice cream sundae with a happy cockroach friend crawling out of the scoop of pralines and cream and burping in your face--thank you Mormon Ads)).
Ok, so enough with the bad ("Live free, die well! ARRGGG!!!" -The Rock, Scorpion King), and on to the good!
Kung Fu Panda - One potentially stupid movie made hilarious by the comical genius of Jack Black. I tell you what, I was laughing my head off in the theatre, but when I try to quote the movie, it's not that funny. What is it about Jack Black's vocal intonations that make even the simplest phrases hilarious? Do we all remember Black in King Kong? Now, I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure he was supposed to play a straight-forward, serious character, but even in their moments of peril with the t-rexes smashing the tiny island to bits he sounded funny to me. Anywho, kudos to Black for another funny flick that is family friendly. Go see it, if only for the first five minute dream sequence. Best line? "There is no charge for awesomeness, or attractiveness." And trust me, it may not look funny on paper, but you'll bust a gut in the theatre.

WALL-E - Pixar . . . need I say more? No I don't, but I will. It's creative. It's powerful. It's brilliant. It's fun. It's green, but not in a lay-stretched-across-the-road-to-save-a-crossing-duck sort of way. It's my favorite film of the year, so far. I don't know how, but Pixar managed to mash an assortment of poignant themes and textures into a fine piece of work. While it is set in the future and the robots and spaceships give you a star trekish/star wars type feel, the music from Hello Dolly is scattered throughout the film, giving you a sense of nostalgia for the past and a fear for what the future may be if we, as responsible humans, don't do something about it now. Pixar also created an endearing and believable romance between two abiotic robots. Wow. So yes, I'd give this film two thumbs up, plus my two big toes, and maybe some more thumbs up if I could find 'em or grow 'em somehow. Not to be gross or nothin' . . . ah hem.

Future Flicks to be giddy about: Batman: The Dark Knight--can't wait for the creepiness factor in this one and seriously, when has Christian Bale ever let us down? And, what I suspect will be my guilty pleasure this summer: Mamma Mia! I'll just admit it now--I love ABBA. I love ABBA singing ABBA, I love Erasure singing ABBA, I love my sister Rachel singing ABBA (and man does she do some great interpretive dancing to some of their tunes). So could life possible get any better when we have incredible people like Colin Firth, Pierce Brosnan, and Meryl Streep rocking out to the tunes of Disco legends??? I think not.

And now on to the music.

It has been a very musically successful month for me. I find myself surrounded by good music. My iTunes account is sitting all plump and purdy while my buyer's guilt has skyrocketed. Oy! There's just too much good music out there and not enough time or money to harvest it all.

Missy Higgins: Found her on Pandora while listening to a modern folk-type mix and dang! have I been missing out. Where has Missy been all my life? First bonus point: she's from Australia, which means her vocal intonations are sensational, unique, and delicious. Second of all, she's diverse; she's got sass, and soul, and sorrow, and spirit. And third, she keeps things simple. She sticks to the guitar or piano and doesn't muck up her sound with too much instrumental garbage. And her lyrical messages are clear and poignant. As fun as it can be to decode some artist's lyrics (only to find that they don't make much sense anyway because the artist wrote them while they were wasted) it's nice every now and again to listen to someone who is just straight forward and honest with their feelings about life. Recommended songs to sample: "Peachy", "Where I Stood", and "Scar".

Brandi Carlile: I first heard her song, "The Story", from a free iTunes download and then continued to bump into her on Pandora. (If you haven't checked out Pandora.com yet, I'd recommend. Imeem.com is also good if you're looking for a more selective approach to eRadio.) Her vocals and rich, raw, and real. It's not every day that you can find a woman with the vocal prowess to rip and whale into a piece without sounding like a gimpy imitation of Metallica. Wow, this woman has some power. And she's a folk artist, which automatically gives her five gold stars in my book. Mmm, mmm... Other recommended songs: "Turpentine", "The Story", and "Cannonball". And if you like her, you'll love Patty Griffin, and vice versa. But we'll save Patty for another day. She deserves a post all to herself.

Fauxliage: This is the gal singer from Sixpence None the Richer collaborating her vocals with a fuller and more expansive style. Reminds me of the depth and breadth of Sarah Brightman's music, minus the operatic vocals. It's enchanting. Let the music speak for itself--check out the song, "Let It Go". One listen and you'll be converted. :)

Where the Light Is: Saving the best for last! Can we even begin to explain the wonder that is John Mayer? Yeah, I know some of you out there may have been turned off back in '03 when "Your Body is a Wonderland" was beaten into the ground by DJs who overplayed it. But that was five years ago. It is time to forgive, forget, and move on. I would hate to think that someone who is just as great as Eric Clapton and Jimi Hendrix is missing from the musical lives of so many people just because they are stuck on the pop-prejudices of Mayer's journey into the lime-light. And get your jaw off of the floor and that shocked look off your face. Yes, Mayer is as good as Clapton and Hendrix. Don't believe me? Listen to John Mayer Trio. Hearing is believing. I mean, come on, this guy has done work with all sorts of folk across the music world, from Clapton himself, to the Dixie Chicks, Rob Thomas, Herbie Hancock (!!!), and let's not forget the fantastic Cross Roads performance Mayer did with Brad Paisley (Another phenomenal guitarist who is all too sadly understated). I think it's safe to say that Mayer is going to be around for a long time. Ok, so enough with this validating stuff, and onto the meat: "Where the Light Is." Wow, what a great collection of the best of what John Mayer does best: Acoustic, Blues, and Rock. And vocally our boy John has really come a long way. John isn't a vocalist, he's a guitarist, but his vocals are getting stronger and he is leaving his whispy, semi-creepy sounding days behind him. And all the more power to him and his music! His vocals are especially impressive on the acoustic tracks, "Free Falling" (an exceptional cover), and "In Your Atmosphere". The John Mayer Trio set really gives John a chance to showcase his phenomenal guitar skills and also highlights the all too talented Steve Jordan on drums and Pino Palladino on bass. Check out the performance of, "Out of My Mind", on YouTube from the "Where the Light Is" performance if you can. Killer attitude, Mayer gets really snotty on this one. Ooo, I love it. And I really don't think I can emphasize enough how mad his guitar skills are. Really, if you're not a believer yet, give him one last shot. You might find yourself reborn. Let's stop thinking of Mayer as a cheap Pop Boy. It's time for a paradigm shift in music culture. Let's recognize Mayer for the talented artist and man that he is. Can't wait to see him in SLC!

Extra! Extra! Some other great tracks to check out this week:
"Just Like Heaven (Cover)" -Katie Melua
"Don't Wake Me Up" -The Hush Sound
"Silver Lining" - Rilo Kiley
"One Man Wrecking Machine" -Guster

Gizoogle

2008-06-25T13:42:00.000-07:00

Same post, transformizzled by da powa of gizoogle.com
...Fo all you wanna be gangstas.

The ABC Game...and no, I'm not rapping `bout gum here

So, I totally stole this fizzle mah homie Marianne, but I thought it was nizzy (phrase should be said in tha same way you'd say, "We is tha same height--that is nizzy.)

A-Attached or Single? Single, n whizzay a beautiful thing it is ta be like this and like that and like this and uh. I bought food fo` me fo` tha F-to-tha-izzirst tizzle yesterday ya feelin' me?. It was liberat'n in a new sort of way so sit back relax new jacks get smacked.
B-Best Homie? I hizzle loads of 'em: Adrienne, Charise, Rebecca, R-to-tha-izzick, Andrea, Mom, Jeff...ok, maybe that's not "loads" but I fizzy like I am blessed wit a healthy stock of thugz who love me. :)
C- Cakes or Pie? Pie, preferably made witout a food processor so as one may not enta tha rizzy of doggy stylin' one's index finga ta shreds in tha dogg pound. (Trust me on this one.)
D-Day of Choice? Hmm, Monday? I usually feel funky n refreshed fizzy oversleep'n on tha weekend.
E-Essential Items? J-to-tha-izzohn Poser album Continuum,honey n oat granola bizzars, chacos, n cizzay phone.
F- Favorite color? Coral n a funky turquoisizzle green. I'm obsessed.
G-Gummy Bears or Worms? Like, earth worms? Yo!
H-Hometown?Highland, UT. Preferred hometown? Da ghetto Highlands of Scotland.
I-Favorite Indulgence? Expensive almond granola bar fizzle BYU bookstore wit Ocean Spray grapefruit juice . Aint no L-I-M-I-to-tha-T. I git 'em gangsta every exam as a reward...and sometizzles jizzle whizzay I feel like it too. OooOOoo, also good: chocolate covered cinnamon bears--Drop it like its hot!
J-January or July? Wiznell, tizzle depends. Am I snowboard'n or hik'n�?
K-Kids?Kids is very cute, n expensive. I'm not quite blingin' enough...but someday whiznen mah teacha's salary kicks in....dang!
L-Life isn't complete witout? Religion, Family, Health n Education...and Chocolate...and possibly John Mayer.
M-Marriage Date?  Seriously? People go on dates where tha activity is ta git married? Is that everyone's big secret in Provo. Sheesh, I sure missed tha memo on that one . Aint no stoppin' this gansta female.
Rizzy answa�? Hell no.
Pimp of brotha n sista�? Preface: I'm not ly'n� fo yo. 8 brotha n 6 beautiful sista�. We is a pretty hot family. Included in tha hot bunch is 4 swiznell step bros and all, mah mom did not have all 15 of us, J-to-tha-izzust a healthy amount of 11 . Death row 187 4 life.
O-Oranges or Apples? Fo rizzle?
P-Phobia n Fears? I'm afraid of tha dizzark, whizzich means I am afraid of all monstas (unda tha bizned, in mah closet, steppin' outside of mah door. I hizzle ta kneel on mah bed wizzle I say mah even'n praya...and yes, I am 21.) I'm also afraid of ghosts, werewizzles wolves, mackin' wit fangs really, tha devil, cellulizzles zombies (let's not even rap `bout tha movie "I Am Legend.") Bizzay thankfully I am NOT afraid of baller. They're quite lovely.
Q-Quote?This one really fits mah situation as of late with my forty-fo' mag: "I hope life isn't a joke, coz I D-to-tha-izzon't git it." --Jack Handy
R-Reason ta smile? My birthday in next Monday!! Which means tin fizzle dinna n Bunco up tha canyon wit mah family!!!
S-Season of choice? Summa--no contest.
 T-Tag ten people? No. Dag yo.
U-Unknown fizzle `bout me? Fizzay . Hollaz to the East Side: contrary ta popular belief I like stylin' some movies (they mizzle be of H-to-tha-izzigh historizzles or comical quality) n I also like stylin' video games...ok, jiznust mario cart n guitar hero, but video games, neverthizzles.
V-Vegetable? Artichokes--they makes blingin' so piznosh.
W-Worse habit? Facebizzle is tha ultimate time-suck'n black hizzy of crazy gansta surf'n doom!!!
Y-yo favorite food? I really love all food, but some favorizzles is Mom's twice baked potatoes n corn flakes chicken, Rick's Thai curry, Brotha Bueno Bars, Betos' Bacon Breakfast Burritos (izzle tizzy 10 times fast), anyth'n Rachel n Cheryl make, n Cadbury chocolate fo gettin yo pimp on.
Z-Zodiac Sign? Canca....yeah, I'm pretty crabby. ;)

The ABC Game...and no, I'm not talking about gum here

2008-06-18T07:50:00.000-07:00

So, I totally stole this from my friend Marianne, but I thought it was neat (phrase should be said in the same way you'd say, "We are the same height--that is neat.)

A-Attached or Single? Single, and what a beautiful thing it is to be. I bought food for myself for the first time yesterday. It was liberating in a new sort of way.
B-Best Friend? I have loads of 'em: Adrienne, Charise, Rebecca, Rick, Andrea, Mom, Jeff...ok, maybe that's not "loads" but I feel like I am blessed with a healthy stock of people who love me. :)
C- Cake or Pie? Pie, preferably made WITHOUT a food processor so as one may not enter the risk of slashing one's index finger to shreds. (Trust me on this one.)
D-Day of Choice? Hmm, Monday? I usually feel nice and refreshed from oversleeping on the weekend.
E-Essential Items? John Mayer's album Continuum, honey and oat granola bars, chacos, and cell phone.
F- Favorite color? Coral and a nice turquoise-ocean green. I'm obsessed.
G-Gummy Bears or Worms? Like, earth worms?
H-Hometown? Highland, UT. Preferred hometown? Highlands of Scotland.
I-Favorite Indulgence? Expensive almond granola bar from BYU bookstore with Ocean Spray grapefruit juice. I get 'em after every exam as a reward...and sometimes just when I feel like it too. OooOOoo, also good: chocolate covered cinnamon bears--oh boy!
J-January or July? Well, that depends. Am I snowboarding or hiking?
K-Kids? Kids are very cute, and expensive. I'm not quite rich enough...but someday when my teacher's salary kicks in....
L-Life isn't complete without? Religion, Family, Health and Education...and Chocolate...and possibly John Mayer.
M-Marriage Date?  Seriously? People go on dates where the activity is to get married? Is that everyone's big secret in Provo. Sheesh, I sure missed the memo on that one.
Real answer? Hell no.
N-Number of brothers and sisters? Preface: I'm not lying. 8 brothers and 6 beautiful sisters. We are a pretty hot family. Included in the hot bunch are 4 swell step siblings...so no, my mom did not have all 15 of us, just a healthy amount of 11.
O-Oranges or Apples? Yes?
P-Phobia and Fears? I'm afraid of the dark, which means I am afraid of all monsters (under the bed, in my closet, lurking outside of my door. I have to kneel on my bed when I say my evening prayers...and yes, I am 21.) I'm also afraid of ghosts, werewolves, wolves, anythings with fangs really, the devil, cellulite, zombies (let's not even talk about the movie "I Am Legend.") But, thankfully I am NOT afraid of spiders. They're quite lovely.
Q-Quote? This one really fits my situation as of late: "I hope life isn't a joke, because I don't get it." --Jack Handy
R-Reason to smile? My birthday in next Monday!! Which means tin foil dinners and Bunco up the canyon with my family!!!
S-Season of choice? Summer--no contest.
 T-Tag ten people? No.
U-Unknown fact about me? Fact: contrary to popular belief I like watching some movies (they must be of high historical or comical quality) and I also like playing video games...ok, just mario cart and guitar hero, but video games, nevertheless.
V-Vegetable?  Artichokes--they make everything so posh.
W-Worse habit? Facebook...it is the ultimate time-sucking black hole of cyber surfing doom!!!
Y-Your favorite food? I really love all food, but some favorites are Mom's twice baked potatoes and corn flake chicken, Rick's Thai curry, Kinder Bueno Bars, Betos' Bacon Breakfast Burritos (say that 10 times fast), anything Rachel and Cheryl make, and Cadbury chocolate.
Z-Zodiac Sign? Cancer....yeah, I'm pretty crabby. ;)

A Brand New Colony

2008-06-17T09:12:00.000-07:00

So a fellow in our office had a pretty bad fever yesterday. I just ran into him on my bathroom break and he seems to be doing well. Our bodies are so strange. 103 degrees yesterday and now he's feeling peachy-keen. Reminded me of the time I was about seven and Mom was out of town and I got a high fever. Cheryl took on her natural role as the caregiver and offered me toast and steaming Jello to eat. She took my temperature, which was 104 and immediately talked to Ryan. I learned in my CPR and First Aid certification class that once your temperature gets to 105-106 you start experiencing brain damage. As I weakly lied in my pink bed in the girl's room downstairs, Ryan gave me a blessing. I don't remember too many details after that, but I know I drifted off to sleep sometime soon and felt much better the next morning, as my had fever subsided. Although I don't remember a lot of details from this memory, I do remember the feelings; the healing power of the blessing and the love of my siblings, Cheryl and Ryan, the two people in my family who I consider to have the gifts of comfort and healing. I really miss Ryan, and Genene. In a perfect world we could establish our own little colony with our family. Ryan, Clay, and Ryan G. could be the doctors. Dave Southam and Kelly would oversee our colony's finances and Dave would also help with construction developments. We would have gorgeous grounds, thanks to Jason, Shaun, and Darrell, and David could arrange all of our out-of-colony excursions. And Daniel? Shoot, he could do anything! Marty could keep all of our kids spiritual and Emily could teach them music theory. We'd have some amazing musicians. Christy will keep our houses smelling sweet and our scrapbooks a comin'. Kim, of course, would be our building designer and decorator--our buildings would be stunning. Genene could run the gym and teach the gymnastic and aerobic classes and the yoga and biking classes could be Andrea's. Rachel could be our chef and artist--we would eat like kings! Kris Anne and I would keep the young'ns educated and literate and during my time off, I would take to gardening with Mom. Neil could be the great story teller--the one the kids would gather around during bonfire festivals to hear legends and folklore. No question that our cars would all run soundly--our family's just brimming with skilled handymen. Greg could teach us all to be bilingual, in Spanish and English, and trilingual in humor. Heather could be in charge of the athletics; volleyball would be a must. And Maren, she's like Daniel: she could do anything and do well. But, I'd place her in the school with me and Kris, and I'd also put her on the party planning committee, and generally put her wherever I would be because then we could hang out all day. Debbie's family would naturally be part of our colony. Her kids would keep us entertained with their plays and speeches and concerts. And Debbie could take a load off of her feet and just hang out by the pool, sipping a cold glass of Pepsi. Heidi could be in charge of importing hot Hawaiian boys for me and Andrea to date, and then she could take a load off of her feet as well and join Debbie by the pool. I'd place Mom by the pool too, but I know she would get restless and start working on project or another and leave the pool--plus, she hates the heat.
While we probably couldn't provide our colony with ever resource, I can think of a few resources that would be vital to our survival as a people: food and music. We would have acres and acres of field and pasture and then we could put all the grandkids to work (ok, not in any sort of child labor way. We'd give 'em water breaks every ten hours or so...) and teach them the art of farming: the crisp coolness of June mornings before the sun comes up, soft dirt under your fingernails, the sun on your neck, the smell of cut grass, the dry itchiness from powdering corn, and the satisfaction you feel when the sun is going down and you can set down to a cool glass of water or lemonade after a long day of work. Or better, sitting down to a homegrown Sunday dinner: red potatoes, cucumbers with vinegar and salt, cherry tomatoes, corn, beans, and steak from the beef cow that was once so lovingly our pet.
I miss the simple life. I miss my childhood. But most of all, I miss my family.

Arizona at last

2008-05-23T19:41:00.000-07:00

The mission statement at Anasazi is "to prepare parents and children to turn their hearts to one another, begin anew, and walk in harmony in the wilderness of the world." As employees, they ask us to live by the same standards we require the YoungWalkers to live and to also participate in turning our hearts towards our families. Consequently, you should all be expecting a whole heck of a lot more phone calls from me this summer, and I have also decided to revamp my dust ridden blog. I have really missed you all so much already. There's no one I want more after a long, hot, cactus-infested day in the desert than my family and especially my mother. I love the job so far, but really miss our weekly get-togethers. I'm excited to see everyone when I make my visits this summer.
Work has been going well--just a lot of training so far. We spent the first three days of training "on the trail" in the north-east Arizona wilderness. We went through a few varying desert climates on our way up to our camping location, gathering supplies from fallen vegetation and learning which plants were useful, edible, medicinal, and deadly. While we were cutting down the stalk of a yucca plant for fire boards a carpenter bee flew out. Inside the stalk was a rich deposit of desert honey, which is a bit grainier in texture but just as good as honey. I'm learning that even in the desert, there are endless resources available to us. I'm also quickly learning that cacti spines are unpleasant in toes and that clothing is the best kind of sunscreen around. I can happily report zero sunburns--thanks to my long sleeves and wide brimmed hat. Thanks for the years of advice, Mom; it has finally sunken in.
During our three days of outdoor training we went to work with our knives and machetes, making our fire sets, bows, knife sheaths, digging and rabbit sticks. It felt like I was back at the Walker Rendezvouses with the Southams--we even use good old fashion cow pies to start our fires. I love it.
One of the greatest highlights was finding wild mint on the edge of a small stream and wild mustard growing in our camp site. I was able to make a delightful minty drink before I went to bed.
The hardest part of the three day training was the dehydration I experienced on the first day out, while collecting resources for the making of our tools. I thought I had been drinking enough liquids and I had even boughten a large Gatorade for the car ride up. But after a couple hours in the Arizona heat my body began to sweat and feel sluggish and my head began to pound. Just a short while after these symptoms started I started to feel like I was going to throw-up: a true sign of dehydration. The field director explained to us how we could evaluate the level of our hydration through a pulse check and also the things we needed to do to stay hydrated. I began hydrating myself right away, after discovering that I was three quarts short of hydration. I felt sick for a couple hours after that, but once the water and food sunk in, my energy and spirits were fully restored. Through this experience I quickly learned the importance of water. I learned that I need to be drinking water not casually and lightly, but that I need to be drinking frequently and deeply. A sip here and there is not enough. Reading my scriptures the next day I came across a passage that refers to Christ as the living water. It struck me then that the same principle I learned about water's role in my physical survival the day before was applicable to my spiritual survival as well. I think too often I have drunken the living water casually, taking small swallows here and there. The world is a deadly place for spirituality and Satan is everywhere, setting up traps and ambushes and beguiling us with his deceitful promises of survival and guidance. In the desert, if I am dehydrated I cannot perform my responsibilities. Eventually, I cannot even function and perform the tasks vital to my survival. Without the living water, without Christ, without the Atonement, and without the Gospel, I cannot survive the wilderness of the world and I cannot perform the service God has asked of me. We need to partake of the living water, but not just casually. We need to drink frequently and deeply in order to hydrate our souls.

Government Health Warning

2008-02-04T11:19:00.000-08:00

DO NOT SWALLOW YOUR CHEWING-GUM

See what happens?

This really brightened my day at work. *Giggles*

Firenza and Venezia

2007-06-23T01:06:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning to shouts and whistles blowing outside. I ran over the the window and looked out over the grand canal here in venice, where I saw countless boats full of protesters. I don't know Italian, so I'm not sure what they are protesting, but I think it could have something to do with the train strike that has been going on for the last few days. We were lucky yesterday to have gotten tickets on a european railway that wasn't on strike. We met a family who had been stranded in Florence for days because the train they were supposed to have caught was refusing to run. Ann and I waited in line last night at the train station to reserve a ticket to Geneva, so we should be good to go to Switzerland today. We've been so greatly blessed on this trip and we are sure that the hand of God has been in our travels. There have been so many wonderful people who we have met along the way. During ride from the London temple to the Stansted airport, our cab driver had a lot of great questions to ask about the LDS church. He had been driving members to and from the airport and temple for years and no one had ever said a thing. We did our best to answer his questions and at the end of the drive we gave him one of my travel Book of Mormons and he promised us he would read it. He was so excited to hear that families could be together forever. We'll follow up on his progress for sure. We also met this great German man yesterday who is is Venice for teacher training. He teaches people how to increase their conficence, self esteem, and self awareness. He was telling us that the structures of our faces and body are reflective of our personality traits. He read my personality dead on. It was pretty neat.
Florence was so beautiful. We stayed at a camping site just 45 minutes outside of the city. It was probably the most posh camping site I've ever seen. All the beds were inside very spacious and clean dorms, there was a market with fresh fruit, bread, and cheese, and their was the cleanest pool I've ever had the priveledge to swim in. I, of course, got fried and I now look like a human sized lobster-doh! I have the lyrics of that song resonating in my head, "and remember, to always wear sunscreen." In Florence we went to the Ufizzi museum which had some AMAZING art-Boteccelli, Da Vinci-you name it, it was there. We also had the delight of eating mounds of gelato, which has become a daily ritual.
Venice is insane. There are so many tourists here. It's annoying, but I am one of them, so I guess I shouldn't complain. There are shops on every corner, all full of glass blown items and masks. The streets are so windy, it becomes easy to get lost. Yesterday we were lost for a good four hours, but we enjoyed the shops and gilato while we were at it. If you're going to get lost anywhere in the world, do it in Italy.
Well, it's my birthday. I had a dream last night that Rachel had her baby on my birthday-which I hope is an omen of truth. How sweet would that be? But then I also had a dream that McKenzie almost drowned, so hopefully all my dreams won't come true. McKenzie, please swim safely. I ate cake for breakfast, and Ann's going to treat me to some gilato (surprise). It's crazy to be twenty-one. Now it's time for all the questions to start...meh.
Anywho, I hope all is well at home. Lindsey, Happy Birthday! I'm so glad we share such a sweet day together. Rachel, get crackin' on that baby!
I send you all my love from Italia!
Love,
Ev

ROMA!

2007-06-17T08:48:00.000-07:00

We've had a crazy trip to europe so far...what with flight delays, overbooked hostels, and exploding conditioner, but at the end of the day, we've seen the pantheon, colosseum (i could almost see maximus rising from the dust), the trevi fountain, and bundles of other amazing sites and ruins...bundles! Rome is incredible-spectacles on every street corner. i fell in love with london, but that was just puppy love. i think this is the real thing. !Roma, ti amo! Andrea, all those hours studying for humanities paid off...well, at least for me...even if we had to put up with jon...i mean, al. hehe. Tomorrow we're headed to the vattican city, and it's so big, we'll probably spend the whole day there.
I wanted to draw everyone's attention to the pictures in the previous post. i hope you all noticed the corn ice cream...martha stewart would be proud!

hope all is well at home!
much love,
ev

Pictures! Come see me and be jealous!

2007-06-13T02:04:00.000-07:00

Laundry calling

2007-06-06T10:22:00.000-07:00

Hello my little pretties!
I'm in London and, man alive, is it a circus down here. There is so much to do, and so much to see, and so many people and tourist traps and cigarettes. It smells like the Fourth of July everyday here! (Ok, that may not make sense. The Fourth of July reminds me of the Logan car show...which smells like beer and cigarette smoke.) We've seen so much, I hope I can remember it all. Tuesday night a small group of us went to Wicked. We had gotten up super early that morning to wait in line so we got front row seats! That's right ladies, Fiero's spit was gracing my face! So cool.
Some more sweet highlights include Westminster Abbey (where everyone who is anyone is buried...so mostly royalty and poets.), the National Gallery, Big Ben, the Tower of London, and a whole lot of the tube.
Last night we went to a play at the royal theatre called "A Matter of Life and Death", which I would recommend to anyone who finds themselves in London while it's still showing. I liked it better than Wicked, which is saying a lot because, man, have you seen Fiero? :) After the play was over I sobbed for a good twenty minutes; the play's message was so powerful. And after the tears were over Ann and I walked along the Thames and enjoyed some live music that was floating up from one of the boats on the river. I fell in love with London last night...and with Almond Magnum Bars.
London is great, but our hostel is hostile. Seriously, this place is the pits. You remember the soup nazi from Seinfield? Yeah! they hired his cousin to work here. There was a bit of a commotion at breakfast this morning when a member of our group went back for an apple. The hostel nazi saw her and sneered, "You! I saw you take an apple already! You put that apple back!" So much for breakfast buffets-eh? In addition to the crazy apple lady, there are a whole lot of other difficulties we've run into...and I am wondering if a lot of it has to do with our nationality. Generally Americans aren't well liked outside of the US (in case you haven't picked up on that) and it's been a really humbling experience to be ridiculed for my nationality. It's something I'll surely remember and try to take with me when I come back to the US.
Anywho, I'm off to do some laundry before I see Les Miserables. Hope all is well at home!
Much love,
Ev

this is a blog title

2007-06-01T09:58:00.000-07:00

so the adventure continues. I'm in bath for the next three nights and then it is on to london. wahoo. Stone henge was everything i expected and more. this really has been such an incredible trip, i don't know if i'll ever be able to write about all of it. mmm...euro fanta is so much better.
Cheryl's pony had a baby? what the? that's crazy, it seems these days everyone's having babies. andrea, don't get any ideas!
We saw pirates of the carribean in waymouth, after spending the entire day on the beach. I really dug that flick, and i really'd like to see it again, someday, when i have money.
Anywho...the chocolate pounds are coming along just fine.
much love-will write later gator.
ev

Bright!

2007-05-22T08:43:00.000-07:00

Hey fam,
It's been another great week here in the motherland. We're spending the next few nights in Wiltshire on the south end of england. We just spent the last few days on the Isle of Wight where Tennyson hung out and wrote his best poetry. I'm finally in the groove of things and my writing is finally coming along. I've been working on my autobiography, among other things, so it will be fun to share with ya'll when it's finished, since it's mostly about all of you.
I don't have much time, but i thought i'd share one of the more amusing stories of the week. While we were in Oxford we saw Guys and Dolls and afterwards decided to go dancing...yes, yes, i know, wild and wreckless...but we had mace!!! It was pretty amusing to go into the dance club with our mormified stake dance moves. In the beginning, people gave us strange sideways glances and peculiar looks. It was obvious that we didn't fit in. Many boys became confused, wondering why we wouldn't dance with them. Haha. But little by little, they began to mimmick our moves. Yup, we had a whole slooth of british techno-dancers jamming out mormon style. Now here's the crowning moment. We were talking to the bouncers on the way out and one of them said, "You girls are different. I can't put my finger on it, but you're just...bright?....yeah, that's the only way to describe it. Bright!" Gospel moment? I didn't think a pub would have been the best place to pull out a Book of Mormon....but it was neat.
The pictures of graduation and mother's day were great to see. I really support the whole lot of our family joining in on the Picasa picture sharing fun. I couldn't believe that Daniel and Rachel found yet another way to revive the Jenny Doll. A vase-how thoughtful. Please eat an extra pork salad for me as you watch the american idol finale.
We toured a the Salisbury cathedral today where a page of the Magna Carta is on display. So cool. Tomorrow morning we're waking up at 4:30 am to walk to Stone Henge, this way we can actually go up to the stones and sit around them. Later on in the day, visitors can only see them from a distance. Judging from our group's history, i'm sure some pagan something or other might transpire.
Anywho, my internet time here is almost up.
Much love,
Ev

really really ridiculously smart looking people

2007-05-17T04:53:00.000-07:00

Hey all,
Life has found me in Oxford and I'm surrounded by really smart/good looking men. Ok, who am I kidding? After spending three weeks in the country side with only women and lambs to keep me company, any guy looks good. Sigh. We saw the very anticipated King Lear the other night in Stratford-on-Avon and it was very very good, and very very sad. Ian was a gem...and he got nude for a scene...that was different. Anywho, today we are hanging out in Oxford where C.S. Lewis and Tolkien sipped coffe over their writings. It's a really great college town and i've promised myself that in my second life, i'm going to do really well in school so i can go to college here. No more sluffing at Gandolfo's. Hehe. I've fallen in love with the cheese here. I don't think i'll ever go back to chedder. Yuck. The chocolate is also a dangerous affair. I've sold my soul to the Cadbury easter bunny. It's over.
Anywho, internet time is short. I hope you are all well. Thanks for the emails.
Much love,
Evelyn

blisters, wind burns, and hostels :)

2007-05-11T13:48:00.000-07:00

hola familia!
Things are going well in England. I finally have a few minutes of good internet, so I'll do my best to let you all in on my adventures. This past week has been full of English countryside! We spent three nights in Grassmere, Wordsworth's hometown. It has probably been my favourite place so far. There are so many little baby lambs romping around the green fields. I thought i'd seen green before this trip, but i'm learning that i really hadn't. The intensity of the vegetation's greenosity (haha, i'm making up words) continues to take my breath away daily...or maybe it's the steepness of the trail testing my lungs. hehe. While in Grassmere, we had a poetry reading at wordsworth's grave and toured Dove cottage and Rydale Mount, the two houses at which he mainly lived and wrote his best poetry. I've picked up sketching in my journal and i've been playing around with chalk and pastel mediums. It's been a fun way to capture the surrounding landscape and history. We, of course, carried out a pagan ritual of playing penny whistles while wading in the river near wordsworth's grave. A drunk man nearby thought we were a group of traveling minstrels and he asked us if we played requests. we said, "sure, why not." he then, very swankily asked us if we knew who the beatles were and if we'd play one of their songs. Three of us were wearing black, and he dubbed us the group's "bouncers" or body guards. I guess i'm picking up on a lot of new talents and hobbies here. I am now a pagan saint, an artist, a musician, and a bouncer. I wonder what occupations lay in store next week.
The past few days were pretty exhausting. I'm not going to lie, they tested my endurance. We hiked 15 miles on tuesday and 20 miles on wednesday across the moors. Although it was relatively all "flat land" the trail was full of hills and valleys. I have loads of beautiful blisters. Mom, i'm learning that i inherited your feet-they blister in all the same places. :) After walking 20 miles across the moors in the wind and rain (woah is me! Oy! jk, the weather was quite pleasant, really) we toured Haworth, the little town the Bronte sisters lived in. They have a massive graveyard with layers and layers of coffins stacked on top of each other. There is hardly any dirt left to cover the coffins. There are said to be 45,000 bodies buried in a plot of roughly a 1/2 acre. Lots of dead bodies, lots of gravestones, and lots of funerals...all in front of the bronte's house. No wonder they are catagorized as Romantic-gothics, eh?
Still no serious sun burning. I'm really thinking that my genes were engineered for this place.
We'll be spending the next few days in Warwick (pronounced warick) and then we'll be heading to stratford on monday to see King Lear (with Ian McKellen-aka Gandolf!)Othello, and some other modern play that's supposed to be neat.
Anywho, i'd better get off and share the computer lovin'.
Thanks for all the emails and comments. I love and miss you all.
oh, and for my birthday, i've decided that i want a baby lamb. He'd be so cute romping and bleating around my apartment. Sigh.
Cheers,
Evelyn

Oh...and I'll explain the pictures.
The first was taken on top of a sort of "cliffs of despair" type place. The rock was a type of lime stone that had been worn away over the years. we could hop about from rock to rock, each having deep crevices in between. It was quite the magical place. The second in me and Ann at an old church near Wordworth's second home. We found a string telephone behind some steps and revisited our choldhoods.
The thrid is a hot picture of me in my shorts and bandana overlooking the lush countryside of grassmere, wordsworth's home valley (i loved it-can you tell?)
The last was on the banks of a little river in Keswick where little baby ducklings were swimming about...daniel, i thought of you. Did you know british ducks like eating bread too? Fancy that.

Anywho, i'll try to post more pictures later...maybe when i don't look so frumpy and granola-ish. hehe.

Please wish Kristy and Sarah happy birthday for me!

Love love,
ev

Pictures and stuff...

2007-05-09T14:41:00.000-07:00

Here are some neat pictures of my travels. Oh boy!

England with a Veiw

2007-05-02T06:48:00.000-07:00

Well Familypants, I'm alive ... and very lively. Happy birthday Rachel, you old fart! I'm sorry I missed your birthday and your baby shower. I was on the top of Ben Lomond on the 27th and thought of you. That mountain really does have a steep side, like the song says, but luckily we went up the not-so-steep side. We've been hiking a whole bunch, as was planned for. Seriously, my life rocks right now. To think that last summer i was sitting in a cubicle all day...and now i'm hiking anywhere from 4-14 miles everyday. I love getting sunburned here! it feels so good! since the elevation is lower, the sun isn't as harsh, and it's very similar to a tanning bed, where my freckles just get darker and i never really burn, peel, or blister. Sorry i haven't been able to call or email much, Mom. We've been in the remotest part of the Lake District (where Wordsworth and Coleridge wrote their best poetry!) and we've been far from city civilization...which means no internet and no laundry. oh boy do we smell good! Right now we are in the town of keswick which has a anchient stone circle similar to stone henge in make and history. Last night the moon was full and a handfull of us snuck away and hiked to the circle. We then did our best imitations of a pagan ceremony. Liz and Bess played their penny whistles while the rest of us romped around on the stones and cow dung. it was silly, but magical. Yesterday, (before the heathen worshippings) we hiked to the highest point in England. Again, i can't stress enough how much i love the lower elevation. the hike was challenging, but very pleasant at the same time. Bess, Ann, Liz and I found a small mountain pool and took a short swim. Don't worry Mother, it wasn't completely what i consider skinny dipping. I'll keep my promise! The land here is beautiful, and reminds me of home in so many ways. It's been great to find a place where i really fit in; many folks in scotland and england have my red hair and freckles, especially the scots. Well, internet time is short and pricey, so i better jet. I'll leave you with some pics if it works. I love you all!
Much love,
Evelyn
ev
evy
pev
little dork
pevy poo
whatev

Plane rides and Scotland

2007-04-25T02:24:00.000-07:00

After endless hours of airplane travel and many cricks in my neck, I've arrived in Scotland. I'm happy to say that I won't be on a plane for a good long while; it's a wretched place to sleep. It's 10:30 am here, which means it's something like 3:30 am in Utah. My body's freaking out on me; it's so confused. Luckily I have night quil so I'll be able to knock myself out tonight (thanks for the tip Andrea).
Our program doesn't start until thursday, so we have a couple days to hang out here in Edinburgh. We're going to head out to see some castles and scotish livestock. Word on the street is that the billy goats here speak in a keen scotish accent. We saw some sweet oreo looking cows on the way over and I'm pumped about that. Mostly, I'm just a little delerious from jet lag and no sleep (Ann and I pulled an all nighter before we left). Anywho, I just wanted you to know that we have arrived safely and I hope you are all doing well. I'm about to take some knarly pictures...so stay posted.
Much love,
Ev

Off to the Motherland!

2007-04-20T09:19:00.000-07:00

Ok Familypants,
I'll be off on my little adventure in a few days here and things are a bit hectic with finals, packing, moving, and my crazy new hair color to deal with. However, I figured since I'd be leaving ya'll during two very important and event-filled months, I'd try to keep in touch via blog.
In case you're wondering, I leave for England on Tuesday the 24th and I'll be backpacking in the motherland until my study abroad program ends on June 15th. After that, I'll be going on another sort of adventure with some of my more daring friends. We'll be spending the next three weeks in Italy, Switzerland, France, and Spain. I'll try not to get too lost, or mugged too much. I will, however, try to gain as much chocolate weight as possible and try my shot at skinny dipping in each country (just for kicks). I'll be carefully documenting my little trip and I'll post pictures every chance I get (probably not of the skinny dipping).
Just in case I don't get too many chances in Europe, here are some pictures of me in Utah (I know, boring). This way, every time you are missing me and your heart feels like it's going to combust due to an overload of Evelyn nostalgia, you can just hop on the net, look at these photos, remember me, and cry some more.
Family! I really will miss you. I'm interested to see how I will handle homesickness, because let's face it, Provo Canyon's the farthest I've lived from home for an extended peroid of time. Good luck on all the babies and birthdays and baptisms and all that other jazz. I'll miss you all! Please take care of Muddy for me...she's such a good kitty. Oh, and if the attic goes up in flames, please try your hardest to retrieve my snowboard, it's such a pretty thing. Anywho, I hope you all know that I love you to pieces and I appreciate all of your encouragement and support!
Much love,
Evelyn

The RM

2007-04-11T19:36:00.001-07:00

I had to write a victorian monologue for one of my classes. I think it turned out pretty neat.

The RM

From foreign lands and cities grand,
I return home, glory bound.
With honor pristine, and conscience clean,
I hunt, my prize to be found.

I served honorably and that makes me,
A bachelor, of grandest sort.
Which is lucky for me; I must hunt with speed.
(It’s been 3 weeks since my final report.)

The Prez told me, “After you’re released,
Go out and find a wife.”
So I search young and old, for a girl I can mold,
To serve me throughout life.

Freshmen, I find, are the most malleable kind.
Their minds too young and naive,
To realize that I whisper sweet lies.
Upon my cheap words they’ll believe.

I met her there, on Brigham Square.
I told her by the library,
“I just feel that it’s right,” and without any fright,
I asked her to marry me.

She’s only eighteen, and what a bride she’ll be.
“The wedding’s next week!” we announce.
It’s truth I’ve been told, “Don’t let them get old,
Or they’ll wise up before you can pounce.”

A whole bunch of spontaneous rubbish and incoherant rambling

2007-04-11T19:34:00.001-07:00

Alright, so I haven't done this very much, and I'd like to blame it on writer's block, when in reality, I know there is a deeper issue at hand. I think I'm really just afraid that if I began to take this writing thing seriously, I'd write something absolutely horrible and then I'd have to face up to the cold typed-up proof that I am artistically, rhetorically, and stylistically challenged in every way, shape, and form. In cruel irony, my own clumsily written words would stare out at me from my computer screen and in their own silent way, spell out yet another failed endeavor at greatness. Art, dance, music and their required muses have all abandoned me in the past. I'm afraid to shine a light in on the cob-webbed corner of my mind's attic that I've reserved for writing. If I should find it empty and wanting, what is left for me, but a mere appreciation and meloncholy yearning for the humanities? It's not enough for me to just appreciate; to sit in the audience and through some strange osmosis, soak in the bohemian spirit. It is not enough. I need to create it, find it, feel it within myself.
My hands are fevered, but my fingertips are cold to the touch.
I heard a quote today that went a little something like this: "Good writing is produced when the walls of safety are broken down."
But it's so easy to play it safe. There are so many things I fear. As previously mentioned, and most of all, I fear failure. Failed genius. We can't all be a Wordsworth, an Eliot, a Keats, or an Orwell. If everyone were geniuses, where would the novelty lie? And if that is true, then is there shame in normality? Is it ok to just be a Mather? Sometimes my understanding is not crystalline, and my memory often fails me. Is that alright? Is it enough to be satisfied with the alotted amount of brains I have been given? I am who I am, and I should be content and settled with that idea, because I really am quite fond of my life and what I've done with it so far. But is it enough? I can't help but want to fill the shoes of the prolific writers mentioned above. I am man, afterall, and as such I strive to improve myself, even to perfection. But where does one draw the line between the realistic and idealstic ambitions that beset our minds. Although I have many fears regarding this complex issue, my biggest fear is this: What if my ambitions exceed my abilities?

Why do I write in the first place? Certainly it's not to be well read, as most of my writing is private, with small exceptions, including this blog (scary). But if anyone has read to this point of my lengthy ramblings, they are either madly sticken with love for me or are waiting out an unfortunate case of insomnia. If it is the latter, may I recommend, dear reader, briefly jotting down whatever troubles your mind in a journal, drinking a tall glass of milk, and then settling into bed, leaving all your worries in your journal until the morning. Sleep will come and the you won't need to read my ramblings any further.
Oh, tangents-another great downfall.
So why do I write?
I should be writing for myself, as if there was no one else in the world who was going to be sifting through the complexities of my exposed mind. But I do write for others. I write for all those in academia, stretching my neck out and balancing on my tippy-toes, hoping to measure up to their prestigious expectations of excellence and brilliance. I write for my family, hoping to stand out against the backdrop of their loud talents, hoping to find my own individuality, hoping to find something I can put my personal stamp on and claim as my own. And there is this pukishly romantic side of me (that I will only claim as one of my sides, and not fully as myself) that writes for him. Who is he? The name is irrelevant, because it changes from year to year. Call him a muse. Call him a catalyst. Call him Dick, Mark, or John. It doesn't matter. He's more of an idea than a man. He's the one who, unlike you, my poor insomniactic reader, is madly sticken with love for me. It's true. Even at this very moment he is falling in love with each nonsensical sentence streaming from my fingertips, each misplaced semi-colon, each wanting attempt at rhetoric.

I write for him, and I write for them, but who are they and is it enough?

Is it enough? I'm not so sure.
I have decided to start something new and uncomfortable. I am breaking my carefully built walls of safety down, brick by brick, word by word, and I am now writing for me.

Just for me.

So do not be alarmed, offended, or hurt, dear reader, if I do not address you all too often in the future. Any further references made to a crazy insomniac will be directed soley to myself. Please do not think this too selfish. But I'm writing for me now, and not for you.
Perhaps when I have mastered writing for myself, I can then write something truly useful for others, and by doing so, realize my own unique inner-genius. I gather that I won't find a Coleridge or a Dickensen by any means, large or small. But I hope to find a Mather who is no longer afraid to mark her work with her name, a Mather who is proud to be just that-Evelyn Mather.