I am done. I was going to say officially done, but I suppose that comes with commencement and the diploma. But I have done all I can do. Woohoo! College-graduate Dani!!! I should throw a party.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
I JUST FINISHED MY LAST FINAL EVER
And I also paid my last cent to SUU for my cap & gown. Apparently you have to die or be about to give birth any second to get out of walking here at SUU. I guess I spent the last cent here for myself anyway, I may end up donating a lot more money to the SUU fund to get Kelly through if we end up staying in Cedar.
I am done. I was going to say officially done, but I suppose that comes with commencement and the diploma. But I have done all I can do. Woohoo! College-graduate Dani!!! I should throw a party.
I am done. I was going to say officially done, but I suppose that comes with commencement and the diploma. But I have done all I can do. Woohoo! College-graduate Dani!!! I should throw a party.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
My College Career is Coming to its Close.
That's right, I am one in-class essay away from my bachelor's degree. I think it's funny I paid so much for something known as my "B.S. Degree."
But really, college has NOT been B.S.--except for maybe Sight Singing. I know this is an important class, but I was already very good at rhythm, so I didn't learn that in that class. I did learn to identify the intervals and chords played on a piano, but when it comes down to the singing part, I am an utter failure. I was told, "Sing a Perfect Fifth." So in my mind I hear a perfect P5 and then told my voice to do it and out came--ugh, something between a Major Third and a Perfect Fourth. I really cannot sing. I think the instructor finally figured out that it wasn't that I didn't know it, but that I really am just incapable of singing. He B.S.ed my grade accordingly. My first B, soon to be followed by three more semesters of Bs in Sight Singing. And I was grateful for them all. Seriously, to me that class was "Hey, what do you weigh? ...Oh, 100 pounds? Ok, in three weeks you must bench 700 pounds or you fail. Excellent! See you in a few weeks!" A good friend from high school used to say "If you can talk, you can sing." That may be the case, but it doesn't mean you can sing well.
Fortunately for you, surviving Sight Singing I-IV isn't what I'm here to write about today. I'm here to write about my overall college experience. I've taken some really crappy classes, like History 2700 and Arts Retrospective, and I've taken some really amazing classes like Hitler and Nazi Germany, World Military History, Ancient Greece--(okay, everything taught by Dr. Ping), Music Theory, Ballroom Dance, and Band, but sometimes even better than the classes I knew were going to be amazing were the classes I took that I thought would fit into the "just okay" category and ended up being incredible: Nutrition, Dance 1010, Popular Music in America, and Honors 4010.
I have been pushed and stretched in ways I couldn't have imagined back in high school. I have done things that scared me to death, and I have even done them well. I played Mozart's Concerto for Clarinet. I wrote and did a presentation on Synesthesia to a class of the smartest people on campus, and was brave enough to do it on camera, too. I worked a very nice camera that I never thought I would dare touch and edited a video of a classmate's presentation. I wrote my massive senior thesis on the brave individuals in Germany who risked their careers, educations, reputations, families, and lives to commit treason to stand against Hitler. And now it's being published. I have witnessed nearly every friend meet someone, start dating, become engaged, get married, and many of them have babies in a shorter amount of time that I have been dating Kelly. I have lived with impossible roommates and resisted every temptation to wail on them with a bar-of-soap-in-a-sock, tear the labels off their canned food, throw away the dishes I always washed for them, say those horrible biting remarks that so often pop into my head, or color on their faces with a Sharpee while they were sleeping on the couch with various frat boys. I witnessed my best friend give up everything he owned, every plan he made, even the love and respect of his family because he believed a few words I said about Jesus. I have postponed my wedding to send him 6,000 miles away to help others experience the change in their lives that he was able to experience only a year before. I have turned down numerous marriage proposals. I learned I have Synesthesia (that's right, normal people don't think words have colors). I learned the merits of indexes, prayers, and the occasional break with a bowl of Cap'n Crunch and an episode of "The Office," and the worthlessness of excuses, always following the crowd, and complaining. I discovered I am a better writer than I thought. I learned the value of other's thoughts. I have made friends, dealt with loss, and learned the insignificance of myself. I have become more confident. I have grown.
I have become somebody.
But really, college has NOT been B.S.--except for maybe Sight Singing. I know this is an important class, but I was already very good at rhythm, so I didn't learn that in that class. I did learn to identify the intervals and chords played on a piano, but when it comes down to the singing part, I am an utter failure. I was told, "Sing a Perfect Fifth." So in my mind I hear a perfect P5 and then told my voice to do it and out came--ugh, something between a Major Third and a Perfect Fourth. I really cannot sing. I think the instructor finally figured out that it wasn't that I didn't know it, but that I really am just incapable of singing. He B.S.ed my grade accordingly. My first B, soon to be followed by three more semesters of Bs in Sight Singing. And I was grateful for them all. Seriously, to me that class was "Hey, what do you weigh? ...Oh, 100 pounds? Ok, in three weeks you must bench 700 pounds or you fail. Excellent! See you in a few weeks!" A good friend from high school used to say "If you can talk, you can sing." That may be the case, but it doesn't mean you can sing well.
Fortunately for you, surviving Sight Singing I-IV isn't what I'm here to write about today. I'm here to write about my overall college experience. I've taken some really crappy classes, like History 2700 and Arts Retrospective, and I've taken some really amazing classes like Hitler and Nazi Germany, World Military History, Ancient Greece--(okay, everything taught by Dr. Ping), Music Theory, Ballroom Dance, and Band, but sometimes even better than the classes I knew were going to be amazing were the classes I took that I thought would fit into the "just okay" category and ended up being incredible: Nutrition, Dance 1010, Popular Music in America, and Honors 4010.
I have been pushed and stretched in ways I couldn't have imagined back in high school. I have done things that scared me to death, and I have even done them well. I played Mozart's Concerto for Clarinet. I wrote and did a presentation on Synesthesia to a class of the smartest people on campus, and was brave enough to do it on camera, too. I worked a very nice camera that I never thought I would dare touch and edited a video of a classmate's presentation. I wrote my massive senior thesis on the brave individuals in Germany who risked their careers, educations, reputations, families, and lives to commit treason to stand against Hitler. And now it's being published. I have witnessed nearly every friend meet someone, start dating, become engaged, get married, and many of them have babies in a shorter amount of time that I have been dating Kelly. I have lived with impossible roommates and resisted every temptation to wail on them with a bar-of-soap-in-a-sock, tear the labels off their canned food, throw away the dishes I always washed for them, say those horrible biting remarks that so often pop into my head, or color on their faces with a Sharpee while they were sleeping on the couch with various frat boys. I witnessed my best friend give up everything he owned, every plan he made, even the love and respect of his family because he believed a few words I said about Jesus. I have postponed my wedding to send him 6,000 miles away to help others experience the change in their lives that he was able to experience only a year before. I have turned down numerous marriage proposals. I learned I have Synesthesia (that's right, normal people don't think words have colors). I learned the merits of indexes, prayers, and the occasional break with a bowl of Cap'n Crunch and an episode of "The Office," and the worthlessness of excuses, always following the crowd, and complaining. I discovered I am a better writer than I thought. I learned the value of other's thoughts. I have made friends, dealt with loss, and learned the insignificance of myself. I have become more confident. I have grown.
I have become somebody.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Scary Stuff in Cedar City
On Friday night, Janalee, Emily, and I all watched My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Afterward, Emily fell asleep and then stumbled into her room and went to bed, and Janalee and I kept talking. Around 1:30 AM, Janalee and I heard something by the door and then the doorknob rattled. At first we thought it was our other roommate, Shannel, coming home. (She's not around much, ever since we caught her stealing our stuff. I wish she'd come back, though, because I think she has one of my skirts, my 4 GB flash drive, and a bunch of my makeup--but that's another story.) Then whoever was moving the doorknob stopped, and Shannel never called us or rang the doorbell or anything like she normally would. So Janalee and I got a little scared. Who could be trying to get in our front door? I thought it sounded like something one or more of our friends might try just to scare us (*cough* DerekBryanKateBeckyRandyMikeJonEtc. *cough*) But still, who knows? Then we unfortunately remembered Shannel's window was unlocked and also situated right next to the front door, so we grabbed a phone and a frying pan (just in case! Better safe than sorry! I would personally have preferred a baseball bat, but we don't have one, and a frying pan worked fine in Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Arc.) We managed to lock the window and tried to see the front step, but the angle was wrong. We were just a little too creeped out to go to bed at this point, so we talked longer and then Janalee dragged her mattress into my room and slept on the floor. The next morning we ate breakfast and wondered who could have been on our porch last night, so since it was hours later and daylight, we opened the door and GUESS WHAT!
There was a baby on our porch.
Just kidding. What really happened was a paper fell to the ground. And on that paper was a reminder that our ward was going to the temple and meeting at 3:15 at the church. Yeah. The Relief Society president and a guy from the Elder's Quorum were out on their razor scooters late last night delivering flyers and when they stuffed it between the door and the frame, they must have grabbed the doorknob and jiggled it. Yep. Pretty much Janalee and I fell over each other in laughter at this point. Then we got dressed and went to the temple.
There was a baby on our porch.
Just kidding. What really happened was a paper fell to the ground. And on that paper was a reminder that our ward was going to the temple and meeting at 3:15 at the church. Yeah. The Relief Society president and a guy from the Elder's Quorum were out on their razor scooters late last night delivering flyers and when they stuffed it between the door and the frame, they must have grabbed the doorknob and jiggled it. Yep. Pretty much Janalee and I fell over each other in laughter at this point. Then we got dressed and went to the temple.
Friday, December 5, 2008
NINJA!!!!
NINJA!!! In honor of today: The Day of the Ninja
P.S. This is awesome
P.P.S. Paul Simon used to look like what my dad used to look like:
Paul Simon
My Dad, Kevin, and Me-the-baby.
P.S. This is awesome
P.P.S. Paul Simon used to look like what my dad used to look like:
Paul Simon
My Dad, Kevin, and Me-the-baby.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Tedward
Hello readers. I know Twilight is getting a lot of hype lately, (despite the fact that from the crappy previews I've seen the actors suck and it looks really really low budget, and it's meant for a bunch of scream-y preteen girls..."It's like a stupid dumb-dumb movie for kids and stuff.") well, I stumbled across this little gem. Enjoy Dimlight !!!
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Letter + Letter = Doubly Good Day
That's right! The postal strike in Uruguay is apparently over! I received not one, but TWO letters from Kelly today!!! If my readers could please be praying for him, he's with a difficult companion this transfer. Apparently the guy was in the Brazilian special forces and killed terrorists before the mission. (Oh gosh, I just said the mission. Kelly is always rubbing off on me, even though I haven't seen him in nearly 20 months.) Also, there are a lot of investigators that need some prayers on their behalf.
Even more urgent, Kelly has sent a referral to the missionaries in Utah's own Ogden Valley. That's right, he sent missionaries to his parent's house. If you could please just be praying for Kelly's family, and also probably for the missionaries' safety (just kidding about that last bit) it would be very helpful and very much appreciated.
Sorry for not updating this recently, it's been a week full of crazy. And it's kind of hard to type since my thumb is back in a brace. I'm off to print some pictures of Kelly's mission so I can take them to his parents over Thanksgiving Break. Oh bye!
Even more urgent, Kelly has sent a referral to the missionaries in Utah's own Ogden Valley. That's right, he sent missionaries to his parent's house. If you could please just be praying for Kelly's family, and also probably for the missionaries' safety (just kidding about that last bit) it would be very helpful and very much appreciated.
Sorry for not updating this recently, it's been a week full of crazy. And it's kind of hard to type since my thumb is back in a brace. I'm off to print some pictures of Kelly's mission so I can take them to his parents over Thanksgiving Break. Oh bye!
Friday, November 7, 2008
An Ode to Uncle Billy
A ol' man and a ol' woman was settin' on th' porch, don't you know.
Th' ol' woman said, "You know what I'd like t' have?"
Ol' man said, "What's 'at?"
She says, " A big ol' bowl of vaniller ice cream with choc'late sauce an' nuts on top!"
He says "By jing, I'll jus' go down t' th' store an' git us some." She says, "You better write that down or you'll fergit it!"
Went to th' store, come back a good bit later with a paper sack. Hands it over, she looks in there, sees two ham san'wiches.
She lifted th' top off one of them sand'wiches, says, "Dadgummit, I told you you'd fergit! I wanted mustard on mine!"
A farmer was haulin' manure, don't you know, an' 'is truck broke down in front of a mental institution. One of th' patients, he leaned over th' fence an' said, "What're you goin' t' do with that manure?"
Farmer said, "I'm goin' t' put it on my strawberries."
Feller said, "We may be crazy, but we put whipped cream on ours!"
"No rest for th' wicked, an' the righteous don't need none."
Th' ol' woman said, "You know what I'd like t' have?"
Ol' man said, "What's 'at?"
She says, " A big ol' bowl of vaniller ice cream with choc'late sauce an' nuts on top!"
He says "By jing, I'll jus' go down t' th' store an' git us some." She says, "You better write that down or you'll fergit it!"
Went to th' store, come back a good bit later with a paper sack. Hands it over, she looks in there, sees two ham san'wiches.
She lifted th' top off one of them sand'wiches, says, "Dadgummit, I told you you'd fergit! I wanted mustard on mine!"
A farmer was haulin' manure, don't you know, an' 'is truck broke down in front of a mental institution. One of th' patients, he leaned over th' fence an' said, "What're you goin' t' do with that manure?"
Farmer said, "I'm goin' t' put it on my strawberries."
Feller said, "We may be crazy, but we put whipped cream on ours!"
"No rest for th' wicked, an' the righteous don't need none."
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Monday, November 3, 2008
SUU Wind Symphony, a Returned Car, my Parents, Improv at the Grind, and a Fun Halloween
As a clarinetist in SUU's Wind Symphony, I was required to participate in the annual Halloween concert where everyone dresses in costumes. It was on Wednesday the 29th, and I was a sailor girl and we made my roommate, Janalee, into an awesome pirate wench.
My parents drove five hours to come to it (they didn't wear costumes. They're not that into Halloween.) but it was a fun concert, even though the Acting I students acting out Eric Whitacre's "Godzilla Eats Las Vegas" was ...interesting. That's not really the story though.
After the concert my parents took me and Janalee to Chili's for dinner. When we walked in the place was pretty full, and Janalee and I were still dressed as a pirate and a navy girl, and this guy sitting at a booth put his hand over his mouth and very obviously tried to be discreet at pointing us out to his friend, who didn't even try to be sneaky in getting his eyeful. Janalee and I then became a little more obvious when we burst into a fit of giggles. Well, we sat down and had a nice dinner with my parents, who are awesome. I had such a fun time! We were so busy laughing and talking we didn't realize we were the last people in the restaurant, (which I kinda felt bad about, because I hated that when I was a waitress and had to close.) I was sad when dinner was over because we said goodbye in the parking lot and Janalee and I drove home in my car (which my parents kindly brought down to me since it has been stranded in Springville where it broke down, was fixed, and was left at my grandma's house for a few weeks) and my parents went to a hotel to spend the night before they headed off early the next morning. It was so good to see them though and I had such a good time!
On Thursday Jana and I went to the Trunk-or-Treat in the Institute Parking lot, but by the time we got there all the candy was gone. I did get some scalding hot chocolate, though, which I managed to not only burn my tongue with, but also spill on my foot.
On Halloween Bryan Bullock came over and we worked on his amazing fish costume.
It had previously been a pillow at DI, but he has a good imagination, I guess. It was very original, as you can see from the picture. The thing on his head is the fish head pointing straight up. It also had a tail on the butt.
Then Janalee, Bry, and I all carved jack-o-lanterns!
They turned out pretty good, if I do say so myself! We went to Walmart to get candles for them, and Bryan spilled the melted wax from one of them on my pumpkin, but it was very Halloween-y, since it looked like my pumpkin got shot in the head. Creepy!
After that we persuaded his roommate, Dallas, to go to Off the Cuff with us at the Grind. It's an improv group that does hilarious shows every Friday night at 10. They did a Halloween show, and one of the on-going jokes was about how none of us went to the Howl, which started at the same time on SUU's campus. It was a really fun day! That night Janalee and I had a sleepover in our living room.
Then next day we slept in and worked on homework and then rented the movie "Penelope" and liked it so much when it ended we started it over and watched it all the way through again. And on Sunday after church Janalee and I were very bored so we got out her playdough. She told me her mom used to make her and her sisters little fingernails out of playdough when she was little, so I tried it. Then I went a little further and made claws. Not very easy to put on, I might add.
This is the scariest face I could manage, although inside I felt a little like Maleficent....bwahahaha!!!
My parents drove five hours to come to it (they didn't wear costumes. They're not that into Halloween.) but it was a fun concert, even though the Acting I students acting out Eric Whitacre's "Godzilla Eats Las Vegas" was ...interesting. That's not really the story though.
After the concert my parents took me and Janalee to Chili's for dinner. When we walked in the place was pretty full, and Janalee and I were still dressed as a pirate and a navy girl, and this guy sitting at a booth put his hand over his mouth and very obviously tried to be discreet at pointing us out to his friend, who didn't even try to be sneaky in getting his eyeful. Janalee and I then became a little more obvious when we burst into a fit of giggles. Well, we sat down and had a nice dinner with my parents, who are awesome. I had such a fun time! We were so busy laughing and talking we didn't realize we were the last people in the restaurant, (which I kinda felt bad about, because I hated that when I was a waitress and had to close.) I was sad when dinner was over because we said goodbye in the parking lot and Janalee and I drove home in my car (which my parents kindly brought down to me since it has been stranded in Springville where it broke down, was fixed, and was left at my grandma's house for a few weeks) and my parents went to a hotel to spend the night before they headed off early the next morning. It was so good to see them though and I had such a good time!
On Thursday Jana and I went to the Trunk-or-Treat in the Institute Parking lot, but by the time we got there all the candy was gone. I did get some scalding hot chocolate, though, which I managed to not only burn my tongue with, but also spill on my foot.
On Halloween Bryan Bullock came over and we worked on his amazing fish costume.
It had previously been a pillow at DI, but he has a good imagination, I guess. It was very original, as you can see from the picture. The thing on his head is the fish head pointing straight up. It also had a tail on the butt.
Then Janalee, Bry, and I all carved jack-o-lanterns!
They turned out pretty good, if I do say so myself! We went to Walmart to get candles for them, and Bryan spilled the melted wax from one of them on my pumpkin, but it was very Halloween-y, since it looked like my pumpkin got shot in the head. Creepy!
After that we persuaded his roommate, Dallas, to go to Off the Cuff with us at the Grind. It's an improv group that does hilarious shows every Friday night at 10. They did a Halloween show, and one of the on-going jokes was about how none of us went to the Howl, which started at the same time on SUU's campus. It was a really fun day! That night Janalee and I had a sleepover in our living room.
Then next day we slept in and worked on homework and then rented the movie "Penelope" and liked it so much when it ended we started it over and watched it all the way through again. And on Sunday after church Janalee and I were very bored so we got out her playdough. She told me her mom used to make her and her sisters little fingernails out of playdough when she was little, so I tried it. Then I went a little further and made claws. Not very easy to put on, I might add.
This is the scariest face I could manage, although inside I felt a little like Maleficent....bwahahaha!!!
Monday, October 27, 2008
Stop Vandalizing!
So Janalee, my partner in crime, is also my accomplice in vandalism! Saturday night we were bored and trying to figure out what to do with our evening. We were going to watch a movie, but seriously, we always do that. So Janalee lighted upon a brilliant idea! She had the mother of all sidewalk chalk collections under her bed! But it was dark, so we had to stay within the glow of our own porch light, but we decorated our step for Halloween!
But while we were out I heard someone say "Stop vandalizing!" and I turned and saw a guy riding toward us on a bike. I thought it was probably one of the guys that lives in the apartment below ours just joking with us, but then he rode right up to us and guess what! He was a cop! I wasn't entirely sure what to say and Janalee seemed utterly speechless, although her dad is a cop and should have more experience than I do, right? So I said "we really do live in this apartment," and I was about to point out that it was just sidewalk chalk, but before I could he had me in facedown on the ground and wearing handcuffs!
Ok, just kidding.
Really, he was just chuckled after I said it was our apartment and said "Nah, just kidding. I'm just out to disuade the bad guys and startle the innocent." (Or something to that effect.) It was pretty funny, though.
Me and our Halloween art
And Janalee
After Janalee and I had finished our artistic masterpiece, we came inside and I stuffed thirteen pieces of bubblegum into my mouth at once. It was great until I started gagging. Actually, it wasn't great at all. I don't even like bubblegum. So why did I do this, you ask? Well, quite frankly, I don't know... but I got a great picture out of it!
But while we were out I heard someone say "Stop vandalizing!" and I turned and saw a guy riding toward us on a bike. I thought it was probably one of the guys that lives in the apartment below ours just joking with us, but then he rode right up to us and guess what! He was a cop! I wasn't entirely sure what to say and Janalee seemed utterly speechless, although her dad is a cop and should have more experience than I do, right? So I said "we really do live in this apartment," and I was about to point out that it was just sidewalk chalk, but before I could he had me in facedown on the ground and wearing handcuffs!
Ok, just kidding.
Really, he was just chuckled after I said it was our apartment and said "Nah, just kidding. I'm just out to disuade the bad guys and startle the innocent." (Or something to that effect.) It was pretty funny, though.
Me and our Halloween art
And Janalee
After Janalee and I had finished our artistic masterpiece, we came inside and I stuffed thirteen pieces of bubblegum into my mouth at once. It was great until I started gagging. Actually, it wasn't great at all. I don't even like bubblegum. So why did I do this, you ask? Well, quite frankly, I don't know... but I got a great picture out of it!
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Wonder of Wonder "Musical of Musicals (The Musical!)"
I was just thinking about how boring my life really is. I mean, things happen, of course, but nothing of interest to anyone but myself. Like getting hit by a truck, or my car breaking down in Provo last week, leaving me stranded at my grandma's house. Believe me I have all sorts of interesting things going on in my head, but I just don't know how to put them in words. That said, here's the old college try anyhow:
Last night I went to a musical entitled "Musical of Musicals (The Musical!)." It was a highly enjoyable performance, filled with parody, excellent facial expressions, wit, and lots of laughter. The production took place in SUU's blackbox theater, a small area with a small audience; for instance: I sat on the back row, a.k.a. the fourth row. Because of the setting, everyone is able to see the actors (all six of them) very well and feel involved with the production, rather than just be a spectator. The show comprised of five short sections, all telling the same story of a girl who can't pay her rent, her boyfriend who pays it at the end, a conniving landlord, an advice-giving woman, and two chorus members who play various parts in each section. The music is from a lone pianist, who also serves as a narrator, with parts such as "Abby makes her forty-second grand entrance! The audience applauds out of habit," to which we, the audience, respond with habitual-like clapping.
Each of the sections was based on the different styles of popular musical composers. The first act, simply entitled "Corn!," was based on the musicals of Rodgers & Hammerstein. Of course it starts out with Big Willy riding in on his horse singing "Oh what beautiful beautiful beautiful beautiful beautiful (*Inhale!*) beautiful beautiful beautiful beautiful (*BREATHE!*) beautiful beautiful beautiful (*GASP!*) beautiful beautiful CORN!" He runs into June, his love, and they sing "I Don't Love You" until interrupted by Jidder, the landlord with a lease that says if June doesn't pay her rent she had to marry him. After Jidder and Big Willy leave, June gets some advice from Mother Abby in the form of a song that sounds suspiciously like a spoof-medley from The Sound of Music (something about "ford every stream"). Exit Abby, and June falls asleep and has a "highly-symbolic dream-ballet" until Jidder wakes her up and carries her off to be wed. Big Willy debates, in song of course, whether to save her and settle down with his beloved corn (oh, and his girl) or to go off and see the world. Unfortunately, when he finally decides to save his girl and pay the rent for her, she is already married to the villain. Fortunately, Mother Abby realizes that the marriage certificate says 5 o'clock, but Kansas has just adopted Daylight Savings Time, so at 4:10, they are not yet married. Big Willy is to marry June afterall, but Jidder comes out with knife! But he trips and falls on his own blade and the story ends happily with "D-A-Y-L-I-G-H-T-S-A-V-I-N-G-S-T-I-M-E Day! OK!"
The other four parts are respectively based on the musicals of Stephen Sondheim (five scary tenants of an apartment complex called "the Woods" with an unappreciated artist/serial killer landlord, and
"Roses are red
Violets are blue
Some lyrics rhyme
Some don't"),
Jerry Herman (Abigail von Schtarr: "I can't sing or dance, but I'm the star of the show!" with numerous costume changes, and a background semi-plot of Mr. Jitters: "you must pay the rent" Junie Faye: "but I can't pay the rent" boyish William in short pants:"I will pay the rent" and a cross-dressing villain in red heels),
Andrew Lloyd Webber (a through-sung rock opera about a washed-up diva who feels that she is above rent-paying, a phantom landlord who is actually a cat-of-many-colors, and some harsh digs about over-the-top, stealing from Puccini, and a recurring piece "I've heard this song before!"),
and Kander & Ebb (set in a 1930s Cabernet-- scarily gay, prostitution, jail, lots of foreign languages, and Fosse-like slinking).
It was awesome. I know some people didn't get it, (like the old couple sitting next to me who laughed only during the "Corn!" part, or 95% of the theatre who didn't laugh at all during the Sondheim section, which, in my opinion, was probably the funniest), but truly magnificent writing: both lyrics and the almost-but-not-quite-the-same music.
Last night I went to a musical entitled "Musical of Musicals (The Musical!)." It was a highly enjoyable performance, filled with parody, excellent facial expressions, wit, and lots of laughter. The production took place in SUU's blackbox theater, a small area with a small audience; for instance: I sat on the back row, a.k.a. the fourth row. Because of the setting, everyone is able to see the actors (all six of them) very well and feel involved with the production, rather than just be a spectator. The show comprised of five short sections, all telling the same story of a girl who can't pay her rent, her boyfriend who pays it at the end, a conniving landlord, an advice-giving woman, and two chorus members who play various parts in each section. The music is from a lone pianist, who also serves as a narrator, with parts such as "Abby makes her forty-second grand entrance! The audience applauds out of habit," to which we, the audience, respond with habitual-like clapping.
Each of the sections was based on the different styles of popular musical composers. The first act, simply entitled "Corn!," was based on the musicals of Rodgers & Hammerstein. Of course it starts out with Big Willy riding in on his horse singing "Oh what beautiful beautiful beautiful beautiful beautiful (*Inhale!*) beautiful beautiful beautiful beautiful (*BREATHE!*) beautiful beautiful beautiful (*GASP!*) beautiful beautiful CORN!" He runs into June, his love, and they sing "I Don't Love You" until interrupted by Jidder, the landlord with a lease that says if June doesn't pay her rent she had to marry him. After Jidder and Big Willy leave, June gets some advice from Mother Abby in the form of a song that sounds suspiciously like a spoof-medley from The Sound of Music (something about "ford every stream"). Exit Abby, and June falls asleep and has a "highly-symbolic dream-ballet" until Jidder wakes her up and carries her off to be wed. Big Willy debates, in song of course, whether to save her and settle down with his beloved corn (oh, and his girl) or to go off and see the world. Unfortunately, when he finally decides to save his girl and pay the rent for her, she is already married to the villain. Fortunately, Mother Abby realizes that the marriage certificate says 5 o'clock, but Kansas has just adopted Daylight Savings Time, so at 4:10, they are not yet married. Big Willy is to marry June afterall, but Jidder comes out with knife! But he trips and falls on his own blade and the story ends happily with "D-A-Y-L-I-G-H-T-S-A-V-I-N-G-S-T-I-M-E Day! OK!"
The other four parts are respectively based on the musicals of Stephen Sondheim (five scary tenants of an apartment complex called "the Woods" with an unappreciated artist/serial killer landlord, and
"Roses are red
Violets are blue
Some lyrics rhyme
Some don't"),
Jerry Herman (Abigail von Schtarr: "I can't sing or dance, but I'm the star of the show!" with numerous costume changes, and a background semi-plot of Mr. Jitters: "you must pay the rent" Junie Faye: "but I can't pay the rent" boyish William in short pants:"I will pay the rent" and a cross-dressing villain in red heels),
Andrew Lloyd Webber (a through-sung rock opera about a washed-up diva who feels that she is above rent-paying, a phantom landlord who is actually a cat-of-many-colors, and some harsh digs about over-the-top, stealing from Puccini, and a recurring piece "I've heard this song before!"),
and Kander & Ebb (set in a 1930s Cabernet-- scarily gay, prostitution, jail, lots of foreign languages, and Fosse-like slinking).
It was awesome. I know some people didn't get it, (like the old couple sitting next to me who laughed only during the "Corn!" part, or 95% of the theatre who didn't laugh at all during the Sondheim section, which, in my opinion, was probably the funniest), but truly magnificent writing: both lyrics and the almost-but-not-quite-the-same music.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Yay I Have a New Follower!
As stated in the title I have a new follower! That brings the grand total up to...drumroll, please...two! Thank you, Amy. (But Lindsey also says she reads it, so...awesome! 3-ish!)
That is all.
Oh wait! P.S. My week is feeling better now. I don't know why, but I'm happy again! I hate being unhappy or angry or downright depressed, which I really was earlier this week, but not so anymore!
Oh, and Matt Nickerson beat me over the head today--with a paper, but still, he's my professor ;) Good times.
Oh, and The Office is on tonight. Good.
That is all.
Oh wait! P.S. My week is feeling better now. I don't know why, but I'm happy again! I hate being unhappy or angry or downright depressed, which I really was earlier this week, but not so anymore!
Oh, and Matt Nickerson beat me over the head today--with a paper, but still, he's my professor ;) Good times.
Oh, and The Office is on tonight. Good.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Anger, Trucks, another Mr. Darcy Incident, Elder Ahern, Worry, and Spiked Drinks
I'm so angry! I just got two letters from Kelly. Usually, this is cause for much rejoicing, jumping around, squealing, and a week of smiles...well it started out that way, until I read the first page of the first letter. Over the summer he had a companion who apparently had been sneaking out at night to be with a girl they were teaching by day. And to quote Kelly, "they weren't reading scriptures, if you know what I mean. And I'm pretty sure they weren't praying, either."
Yes, well, this caused all sorts of problems for Kelly when the truth came out. His companion confessed and went home, the area was angry with the missionaries, and Kelly was still in the area. Well, at the last interview with the President, he informed Kelly of the reason why he didn't wake up when his companion was sneaking out. The elder had been putting something in Kelly's drink before they went to bed.
What was he using!? Was it just sleeping medication? What kind of stuff do they have down there in Uruguay? What if it was just something off the street? What if he had overdosed Kelly and then left him alone while he was off satisfying his sex drive? It was so dumb and so dangerous! (Man, that's the understatement of the millenium) Poor Kelly! Kel mentioned in his letter he was pretty tired during that transfer, but he still managed to get up at 6:30 every morning like a good missionary. That bastard is damn lucky nothing happened to Kelly.
That guy is also pretty lucky he resides in Paraguay and not anywhere near here, because I'd be beating the crap out of him instead of venting here. It's one thing to go off and bang a girl. It's different matter to mess up reputations of all the hard-working missionaries in Uruguay, but the shit really hits the fan when you have to drug someone to accomplish all this. I'm so so so so FURIOUS MAD ANGRY DESPERATELY-NEEDING-TO-KICK-THE-CRAP-OUT-OF-SOMETHING HURT WORRIED UPSET LIVID IRATE ENRAGED I've run out of words. I need a thesaurus.
And then yesterday I was driving to Walmart for milk when suddenly there was a big white truck plowing into my door. It was not just a truck; it was a BIG truck--like semi-truck-sized. When I was sitting in my car, the headlights were above my head. I thought I was done for. I watched it hit my side mirror, slammed on my brakes, I think I screamed, and I moved to swerve, but I had no where to go because there was another semi and a pickup truck with a camper parked on the side of the road. I don't know how I didn't swerve into them, but miraculously I didn't. All this happened simultaneously and I also heard the most terrifically loud crash. I thought I was going to be dead, because it was the drivers side, and it pretty much T-boned me. But then suddenly it was in front of me and pulling off on the side of the road and I had pulled over and I sat in my car hyperventilating for a few minutes. with tears running down my face. I watched the man climb out of his truck and come jogging back towards me and it was as I was gazing out my window in shock that I suddenly realized my side mirror was still there on my car. I don't know how because I watched the truck hit it. I finally forced myself to get out of the car. There was a nice-sized dent and some scratches, but nothing visibly serious! How!? I have no idea. Angels, I suppose. The guy had pulled out of a parking lot into the road (and my car.) He didn't see me soon enough because the sun was in his eyes, but when he did he slammed on his breaks and swerved, so it all ended up being alright. I got his insurance information and stuff and called my dad and then today I went and had my car looked at, because I wasn't sure if it did anything around the tire, like bent the axle or something, but apparently it didn't. The mirror is damaged, though, but not crunched like it should have been. All in all, it caused close to $700 in damage to my little Mr. Darcy car.
All I can say is it's been an interesting past few days. Please stop being interesting now. I like my boring life. If something different happens, I just hope it has something to do with finding a good job.
Yes, well, this caused all sorts of problems for Kelly when the truth came out. His companion confessed and went home, the area was angry with the missionaries, and Kelly was still in the area. Well, at the last interview with the President, he informed Kelly of the reason why he didn't wake up when his companion was sneaking out. The elder had been putting something in Kelly's drink before they went to bed.
What was he using!? Was it just sleeping medication? What kind of stuff do they have down there in Uruguay? What if it was just something off the street? What if he had overdosed Kelly and then left him alone while he was off satisfying his sex drive? It was so dumb and so dangerous! (Man, that's the understatement of the millenium) Poor Kelly! Kel mentioned in his letter he was pretty tired during that transfer, but he still managed to get up at 6:30 every morning like a good missionary. That bastard is damn lucky nothing happened to Kelly.
That guy is also pretty lucky he resides in Paraguay and not anywhere near here, because I'd be beating the crap out of him instead of venting here. It's one thing to go off and bang a girl. It's different matter to mess up reputations of all the hard-working missionaries in Uruguay, but the shit really hits the fan when you have to drug someone to accomplish all this. I'm so so so so FURIOUS MAD ANGRY DESPERATELY-NEEDING-TO-KICK-THE-CRAP-OUT-OF-SOMETHING HURT WORRIED UPSET LIVID IRATE ENRAGED I've run out of words. I need a thesaurus.
And then yesterday I was driving to Walmart for milk when suddenly there was a big white truck plowing into my door. It was not just a truck; it was a BIG truck--like semi-truck-sized. When I was sitting in my car, the headlights were above my head. I thought I was done for. I watched it hit my side mirror, slammed on my brakes, I think I screamed, and I moved to swerve, but I had no where to go because there was another semi and a pickup truck with a camper parked on the side of the road. I don't know how I didn't swerve into them, but miraculously I didn't. All this happened simultaneously and I also heard the most terrifically loud crash. I thought I was going to be dead, because it was the drivers side, and it pretty much T-boned me. But then suddenly it was in front of me and pulling off on the side of the road and I had pulled over and I sat in my car hyperventilating for a few minutes. with tears running down my face. I watched the man climb out of his truck and come jogging back towards me and it was as I was gazing out my window in shock that I suddenly realized my side mirror was still there on my car. I don't know how because I watched the truck hit it. I finally forced myself to get out of the car. There was a nice-sized dent and some scratches, but nothing visibly serious! How!? I have no idea. Angels, I suppose. The guy had pulled out of a parking lot into the road (and my car.) He didn't see me soon enough because the sun was in his eyes, but when he did he slammed on his breaks and swerved, so it all ended up being alright. I got his insurance information and stuff and called my dad and then today I went and had my car looked at, because I wasn't sure if it did anything around the tire, like bent the axle or something, but apparently it didn't. The mirror is damaged, though, but not crunched like it should have been. All in all, it caused close to $700 in damage to my little Mr. Darcy car.
All I can say is it's been an interesting past few days. Please stop being interesting now. I like my boring life. If something different happens, I just hope it has something to do with finding a good job.
Monday, October 6, 2008
Pertaining to Zion, Mr. Darcy, a Weekend with the Crouches, and the long stretch of I-15
Dear all my faithful readers, who, for all I know is still only Becky (thanks for following my blog, Becky, you make me feel better about myself because at least I have ONE follower.) I haven't written in more than a week, for I have had a lot on my plate.
Last weekend my dad and brother came down to go canyoneering in Zion National Park, but when we got there, there was a flash flood warning, so we hiked Angels Landing instead. Still beautiful, but a lot less gear and no hitchhiking required.
This is me at the top September 27, 2008
My dad at the top
Part of the hike
So after my exciting weekend with Kevin and Dad, I had to go back to classes for midterms and all sorts of stuff, but then I went home on Wednesday evening and spent the whole weekend with my family! They are awesome. We celebrated my little sister's birthday and Kevin came down from Logan so the whole family was there! It was great. Except my cat got in a fight which resulted in an abscess above his eye, so he looked like he was winking all the time. Arg, pirate cat! Or maybe he just learned it from Sarah Palin...
Then I had to make the 5 hour drive back to school last night...but my car (the Mr. Darcy) was struggling, so I had to keep stopping and letting it rest and driving pretty slow when I was on the road. On the hills I had to drive with my 4-ways on. But I made it! And it only took 6 1/2 hours. Yeah. It was late when I dragged my tired self through the door. But I made it to my classes today, that is the important thing, right? Now, I just have a couple of papers to write, and a ballroom dance to perfect.
Last weekend my dad and brother came down to go canyoneering in Zion National Park, but when we got there, there was a flash flood warning, so we hiked Angels Landing instead. Still beautiful, but a lot less gear and no hitchhiking required.
This is me at the top September 27, 2008
My dad at the top
Part of the hike
So after my exciting weekend with Kevin and Dad, I had to go back to classes for midterms and all sorts of stuff, but then I went home on Wednesday evening and spent the whole weekend with my family! They are awesome. We celebrated my little sister's birthday and Kevin came down from Logan so the whole family was there! It was great. Except my cat got in a fight which resulted in an abscess above his eye, so he looked like he was winking all the time. Arg, pirate cat! Or maybe he just learned it from Sarah Palin...
Then I had to make the 5 hour drive back to school last night...but my car (the Mr. Darcy) was struggling, so I had to keep stopping and letting it rest and driving pretty slow when I was on the road. On the hills I had to drive with my 4-ways on. But I made it! And it only took 6 1/2 hours. Yeah. It was late when I dragged my tired self through the door. But I made it to my classes today, that is the important thing, right? Now, I just have a couple of papers to write, and a ballroom dance to perfect.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Dani the Kleptomaniac, and her Partner-in-Crime, Janalee
Yes, I had an interesting day. I finally have lived up to my good ol' WHS janitor nickname: "the Cat Burglar." I received the nickname back then because I have a little talent of picking locks. I only used it on glass cases to see Old Brent aka "Papa Pete" in the 1962 yearbook, and to get the marching band trophies out to display at the closing social because no one seemed to possess a key. Oh, and once I picked a roommate's lock, but that's only because she locked her keys in her room and couldn't remember where her spare key was hidden.
Well, today I actually stole something. On accident, I assure you. You see, my roommate Janalee and I were invited to a baby shower, so we went in together on the present and bought little baby bunny slippers, one of those cute baby towels with a hood, a baby brush and comb, and some baby bath soap. Then we went on a quest to find a rubber ducky to complete the bathtime ensemble. We couldn't find any at Walmart, so we thought we'd try Dollar Tree. Well, we went there, looked all over, didn't find any, but did remember we didn't have anything to wrap the present in, so we picked up a yellow gift bag and left. Then we headed to Family Dollar, where we completed our quest successfully! So we bought the rubber duckies (a momma duck and two baby duckies), came home and wrapped our present when suddenly I had a realization, so I said, "Jana, did we buy the gift bag?!" NO! WE DIDN'T! I picked it up, forgot I had it, and we walked out with it blatantly swinging from my klepto-mitts! And by the time we realized this we already had the present all wrapped up in the stolen goods! So we grabbed the tag, jumped in the car, and went back and quickly explained the stupidity of the situation and paid without any problem. But then the slightly-scary-and-somewhat-toothless lady at the checkstand suddenly started talking about spaying and neutering cats. Weird. So we left since we were no longer criminals. Then we went to Bullock's and got ice cream sodas. Mmmm.
Then tonight was the season premier of THE OFFICE!!! I can't even tell you how excited I was and JIM AND PAM ARE FINALLY ENGAGED!!! Us four girls started screaming and cheering! Now the second thing on my list has been fulfilled. (Don't worry, my priorities are actually higher than that, but I really was so happy.) The first place on the list will be fulfilled when Kelly finally proposes...officially.
Well, today I actually stole something. On accident, I assure you. You see, my roommate Janalee and I were invited to a baby shower, so we went in together on the present and bought little baby bunny slippers, one of those cute baby towels with a hood, a baby brush and comb, and some baby bath soap. Then we went on a quest to find a rubber ducky to complete the bathtime ensemble. We couldn't find any at Walmart, so we thought we'd try Dollar Tree. Well, we went there, looked all over, didn't find any, but did remember we didn't have anything to wrap the present in, so we picked up a yellow gift bag and left. Then we headed to Family Dollar, where we completed our quest successfully! So we bought the rubber duckies (a momma duck and two baby duckies), came home and wrapped our present when suddenly I had a realization, so I said, "Jana, did we buy the gift bag?!" NO! WE DIDN'T! I picked it up, forgot I had it, and we walked out with it blatantly swinging from my klepto-mitts! And by the time we realized this we already had the present all wrapped up in the stolen goods! So we grabbed the tag, jumped in the car, and went back and quickly explained the stupidity of the situation and paid without any problem. But then the slightly-scary-and-somewhat-toothless lady at the checkstand suddenly started talking about spaying and neutering cats. Weird. So we left since we were no longer criminals. Then we went to Bullock's and got ice cream sodas. Mmmm.
Then tonight was the season premier of THE OFFICE!!! I can't even tell you how excited I was and JIM AND PAM ARE FINALLY ENGAGED!!! Us four girls started screaming and cheering! Now the second thing on my list has been fulfilled. (Don't worry, my priorities are actually higher than that, but I really was so happy.) The first place on the list will be fulfilled when Kelly finally proposes...officially.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Edward Burtynsky's Inspiration
In class today our discussion stemmed from Edward Burtynsky's photographs of "modern landscapes." Also known as ways people have trashed the earth. The images he has captured are horrifically beautiful. Orange rivers of nickel tailings in a barren black wasteland, piles of tires remniscent of Springfield's own never-ending tire fire, and scars of quarries, dams, and vast factories. (Visit his website or join in the conversation on sustainability here.) For about an hour-and-a-half I felt like I was involved in a Captain Planet meeting, and I was all for it. (I was probably the wind girl, what with all my talk of Gary's amazing wind turbines. Man, I always felt bad for the heart dude.)
Why can't we each just do our little part? Recycle your bottles and cans. Did you know that glass never decomposes? NEVER. You throw out that Orange Cream Soda bottle, and it sits in a landfill forever. How many everlasting-garbage-bottles are on you conscience now, eh?
One thing that I knew about, but when it was brought up in class really made me angry was all those electric cars made by Ford and the oil companies had a cow about them taking away their profits, so they were shut down! This wasn't in Saudi Arabia or the Soviet Union. This occurred in California. AMERICA! We're CAPITALISTS here. They weren't stealing patented ideas or selling stolen car parts; they made a product that competed with oil, but since it was before gas prices were a big deal, nobody cared when it was shut down. We didn't care about oil until it bit us in the bank. It doesn't matter how long we've been sucking down fumes. Do you realize what that says about us? We care more about money than we do about ourselves. "Aw, I'd rather save a couple bucks now than be healthy a few years down the line." We care more about now than the future. What a pathetic state to be in. What about the world we're making for our children and grandchildren? Which brings to mind an excellent quote:
"I believe in making the world safe for our children, but not our children's children, because I don't think children should be having sex."
Anyway, is alls I'm-a-tryin' t' say is this:
Captain Planet, he's a hero! Gonna take pollution down to zero!
"THE POWER IS YOURS!"
Why can't we each just do our little part? Recycle your bottles and cans. Did you know that glass never decomposes? NEVER. You throw out that Orange Cream Soda bottle, and it sits in a landfill forever. How many everlasting-garbage-bottles are on you conscience now, eh?
One thing that I knew about, but when it was brought up in class really made me angry was all those electric cars made by Ford and the oil companies had a cow about them taking away their profits, so they were shut down! This wasn't in Saudi Arabia or the Soviet Union. This occurred in California. AMERICA! We're CAPITALISTS here. They weren't stealing patented ideas or selling stolen car parts; they made a product that competed with oil, but since it was before gas prices were a big deal, nobody cared when it was shut down. We didn't care about oil until it bit us in the bank. It doesn't matter how long we've been sucking down fumes. Do you realize what that says about us? We care more about money than we do about ourselves. "Aw, I'd rather save a couple bucks now than be healthy a few years down the line." We care more about now than the future. What a pathetic state to be in. What about the world we're making for our children and grandchildren? Which brings to mind an excellent quote:
"I believe in making the world safe for our children, but not our children's children, because I don't think children should be having sex."
- Jack Handey
Anyway, is alls I'm-a-tryin' t' say is this:
Captain Planet, he's a hero! Gonna take pollution down to zero!
"THE POWER IS YOURS!"
Monday, September 22, 2008
Procrastination
Homework
Is highly overrated,
Don't you think?
My friend Lindsey
Always said everything was
"Highly overrated"
In her sweet way.
I miss Lindsey.
She had to go off and
Get married.
Graduate.
Move away.
But I'm happy for her,
Because I can't wait
To do
These things
Myself.
Is highly overrated,
Don't you think?
My friend Lindsey
Always said everything was
"Highly overrated"
In her sweet way.
I miss Lindsey.
She had to go off and
Get married.
Graduate.
Move away.
But I'm happy for her,
Because I can't wait
To do
These things
Myself.
Monday, September 15, 2008
All These Things That I've Done
Hey all my faithful readers, who, for all I know, is just Becky.
In my honors class last week we talked about if, hypothetically, we got chopped up into a bazillion little tiny pieces and all of them were alive (morbid and creepy, I know, but that's beside the point) which piece would be me? I mean, if you got cut at the waist, obviously it would be your upper half, but what if just your head got cut off? Would it be the bigger part or the part that thinks and communicates? Well, I was thinking about this and I thought if I was divided into a bunch of live atoms or something, that a little place right in the center of my heart would be me because of my thoughts and feelings come from not only my head, but deep inside me, and I'm religious so I suppose I imagine my spirit in there or something, but then I realized something. Now keep in mind I'm not trying to get into the Nature versus Nurture debate, because I believe it's bits of both. We are born with personalities (at least partially) and how we see and understand things comes somewhat from somewhere automatically built inside, but you have to admit that we really are influenced by our surroundings and upbringings and the people we've met and the things we've done and experienced. I'm who I am today largely because of who I've known and what I've done. So, I thought I'd grace you all with my 3- minute history of me! Ta-da!
I was inspired to make this because my older brother made one for his introduction for A Team or SOAR (I don't know which) at Utah State. His was way better, but it was fun to make this nonetheless. I just wish I had a MacBook...
In my honors class last week we talked about if, hypothetically, we got chopped up into a bazillion little tiny pieces and all of them were alive (morbid and creepy, I know, but that's beside the point) which piece would be me? I mean, if you got cut at the waist, obviously it would be your upper half, but what if just your head got cut off? Would it be the bigger part or the part that thinks and communicates? Well, I was thinking about this and I thought if I was divided into a bunch of live atoms or something, that a little place right in the center of my heart would be me because of my thoughts and feelings come from not only my head, but deep inside me, and I'm religious so I suppose I imagine my spirit in there or something, but then I realized something. Now keep in mind I'm not trying to get into the Nature versus Nurture debate, because I believe it's bits of both. We are born with personalities (at least partially) and how we see and understand things comes somewhat from somewhere automatically built inside, but you have to admit that we really are influenced by our surroundings and upbringings and the people we've met and the things we've done and experienced. I'm who I am today largely because of who I've known and what I've done. So, I thought I'd grace you all with my 3- minute history of me! Ta-da!
I was inspired to make this because my older brother made one for his introduction for A Team or SOAR (I don't know which) at Utah State. His was way better, but it was fun to make this nonetheless. I just wish I had a MacBook...
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Kanarraville Falls!
So today I went on an amazingly beautiful hike with my good friends Becky and Karina! A lot of it involved wading through freezing cold water and I couldn't feel my feet, but it was awesome and fun and I love hiking!!! Southern Utah must be one of the most beautiful places in the whole world!
Me and Karina hiking upstream
Becky! "If she weren't my best friend, I'd probably hate her."
Battle Wounds! I slipped on the Log of Doom by the first waterfall! And my left hand looks like my fingers are nubbins, but I can assure you they are not. Look how dark it is! We were in a slot canyon so deep it felt like a cave!
This is a glimpse of the Log of Doom. Karina's heading up it. I slipped on the return trip back down.
Karina, Becky, and me. And those awesome orange canyons in the background are just the tip of the iceberg, my friends!
Me and Karina hiking upstream
Becky! "If she weren't my best friend, I'd probably hate her."
Battle Wounds! I slipped on the Log of Doom by the first waterfall! And my left hand looks like my fingers are nubbins, but I can assure you they are not. Look how dark it is! We were in a slot canyon so deep it felt like a cave!
This is a glimpse of the Log of Doom. Karina's heading up it. I slipped on the return trip back down.
Karina, Becky, and me. And those awesome orange canyons in the background are just the tip of the iceberg, my friends!
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Musings
It doesn't feel right to write today and not mention what happened seven years ago. I won't spend too long on this, but I just want to honor those lost, the civilians on the planes and in and near the buildings, and the firemen and police officers who rushed in to help. I just watched a documentary on the History channel, and I was feeling exactly like I did in ninth grade when I watched it all happen on TV. The same feeling I had both times I visited ground zero. One man who filmed that day from his apartment had clips of his video on the documentary. He was saying the exact same words my dad was that day. ...surreal...can't believe...all those people...
I was in New York during the huge blackout in August of 2003. It was unbelievably scary because everyone around us began panicking. Cell phones wouldn't work, and no one knew what was going on. All around us New Yorkers were trying to push down memories from two years before. People poured out of buildings and flooded the streets. And again, we all walked and walked and walked. It was a relief when radios started broadcasting that it was just a power outage. Then people began talking about the last time the power went out back in 1977. The city went berserk then--stealing, break-ins, etc. I think the community formed from 9/11 stopped that from happening in 2003. People were helping others, shop owners pulled their wares out on the street to sell tennis shoes and water, and it was a mass of bodies walking in all directions. It was like no building could possibly have any people left inside, but what a relief that the city was still intact. People slept out on the steps of libraries and in Central Park because the upper stories of apartments buildings were so hot. We were fortunate to be on the first floor, so we still had water and it stayed quite cool there. It was my favorite part of being there. We walked from Madison Square Park to 91st and 1st Avenue. I saw more of the city than I would have if I rode the subway, and it was wonderful to see so many people coming together as a community. I salute you New York.
I suppose the point of this blog is my honors class that I attended today. We watched a ted talk by Larry Lessig, a professor who was speaking out against unfair copyright laws. I agree with him that copyright laws are important. They make sure that people are paid for their work. The problem comes with the new internet fad of remixing. The art of using other people's music or video clips and creating something new with the pieces. Honestly, this is an art form, but a lot of distributors are claiming that their copyright laws should keep people from using this music for their amateur creations. These videos and song remixes are not being sold. They are being made for the love of the art. I believe, as does Larry Lessig, that this type of use should be acceptable under copyright laws. Truly, there are only 12 notes in the whole world, and there really are only a limited number of ways you can mix that up. Composers have been borrowing bits of other people's stuff for centuries! Think Isaac Newton "standing on the shoulders of giants." We all must use the creations and findings of others. An example in class was writing a research paper: it's basically a mashup of a bunch of other people's research. Yes we cite the authors and books, but do we site our parents for teaching us to talk? Do we cite our anyone for the local dialect we speak? Do we cite our conclusions to the morals we were brought up with or our religious leaders? No. In the remixes I've seen, the original artists are cited. Artists and distributors should take it as free advertising. I can't even tell you how many times I've seen videos on YouTube of mashups of songs or whatever, and I ended up buying one of the original artist's songs on iTunes, or went out and bought a whole album. Ok. Those are my basic thoughts on class today.
Well I just thought I'd mention that I'm feeling better about having synesthesia today. I even found out my best friend from high school associates colors to everything too. She told me I am yellow and Kelly is red. Cool, huh!? I knew I was being dumb the other day, but I really did feel kinda different and freaky. I had to keep reminding myself that nothing about me had changed. I've always been this way and I'm intelligent and happy and functional and have great friends and an awesome family and a wonderful man. Honestly, I'm not quite sure what Kelly is classified as right now. My boyfriend? that seems so un-Kelly it's ridiculous. He is neither a boy, nor merely a friend. He's my BEST friend; he's my life; he's me in male form, my other half--my other 7/8ths! And we've been through so much together, we're so much more than just boyfriend and girlfriend. Is he my unofficial-but-pretty-much-set-in-stone-fiance-ish? Well, yes, but that's quite a mouthful...he'll just have to be "my man" until he's back.
You know how people are complaining about how the Twilight books raise girls' expectations for a guy they'll never find because he doesn't exist? Well, Kelly is better than Edward. (And yes, I hate to admit I read the books...it was one of those "oh I'm at home for the summer, my family's all busy, Kelly's 6,000 miles away, the books are right there on the shelf, and I'm bored, so let's see what the heck all this hype is about." So I read them, was somewhat intrigued by the storyline, but I'm not a big fan, either. I confess, Edward's pretty cool, but I liked reading about him just because the sweet things he'd do or say reminded me of Kelly. The perfect gentleman.) But really, I'm not saying that girls need to find someone super-unbelievably-sexy-hot (though Kelly is) or really athletic or strong, or someone who doesn't age, or has 9 doctral degrees! But really, don't settle for someone who doesn't treat you right. Guys ought to open doors, be kind, compliment, and be patient and accepting and willing to sacrifice everything for you if he really loves you. I'm not saying girls should make him sacrifice everything, but the willingness is kinda vital for marriage. Of course girls have to be likable and nice and patient and grateful and willing to sacrifice everything for him too. It's definitely a team effort. You can't expect someone to be perfect to you if you are a big jerk all the time. But I really think it's so tragic when you hear of a girl who marries someone who chains her to an engine block while he's gone. Or men who don't allow their wives access to money or let them have a job. Or even when a girl marries some guy who is always critical and says hateful things like she needs to lose weight when she's 110 lbs, or that she isn't doing a good job with the kids when he never helps out at all and she's doing her best, or whatever. And it's equally sad when a wonderful guy is married to a spiteful girl who always nags and doesn't appreciate all he does for her.
You know what I'm saying, right? I can't cover all the bases, and I'm not just saying that guys can be bad spouses. Girls can be too, of course. But as I am a girl, I tend to associate more with the feminine gender, so don't be mad. My point is don't settle. If music is your life and the guy you're dating is completely tone deaf and claims there is no such thing as a beat, that may cause problems when you have absolutely nothing in common and nothing to talk about. If you are quiet and easily embarrassed, and your guy does ridiculous things at Walmart, is very obnoxious, has no social skills, and doesn't think before he speaks, you're gonna spend the rest of your life apologizing for him! Ok. I'm done ranting. It's just that I found my perfect man and I wish everyone could be as happy as I am. I love Kelly. I love him I love him I love him I love him. Even if he came home and dumped me, all the waiting I've done would still be worth it. He is SO worth it. (And anyway, I have a sneaky little feeling he's not going to dump me.) I love Kelly.I was in New York during the huge blackout in August of 2003. It was unbelievably scary because everyone around us began panicking. Cell phones wouldn't work, and no one knew what was going on. All around us New Yorkers were trying to push down memories from two years before. People poured out of buildings and flooded the streets. And again, we all walked and walked and walked. It was a relief when radios started broadcasting that it was just a power outage. Then people began talking about the last time the power went out back in 1977. The city went berserk then--stealing, break-ins, etc. I think the community formed from 9/11 stopped that from happening in 2003. People were helping others, shop owners pulled their wares out on the street to sell tennis shoes and water, and it was a mass of bodies walking in all directions. It was like no building could possibly have any people left inside, but what a relief that the city was still intact. People slept out on the steps of libraries and in Central Park because the upper stories of apartments buildings were so hot. We were fortunate to be on the first floor, so we still had water and it stayed quite cool there. It was my favorite part of being there. We walked from Madison Square Park to 91st and 1st Avenue. I saw more of the city than I would have if I rode the subway, and it was wonderful to see so many people coming together as a community. I salute you New York.
I suppose the point of this blog is my honors class that I attended today. We watched a ted talk by Larry Lessig, a professor who was speaking out against unfair copyright laws. I agree with him that copyright laws are important. They make sure that people are paid for their work. The problem comes with the new internet fad of remixing. The art of using other people's music or video clips and creating something new with the pieces. Honestly, this is an art form, but a lot of distributors are claiming that their copyright laws should keep people from using this music for their amateur creations. These videos and song remixes are not being sold. They are being made for the love of the art. I believe, as does Larry Lessig, that this type of use should be acceptable under copyright laws. Truly, there are only 12 notes in the whole world, and there really are only a limited number of ways you can mix that up. Composers have been borrowing bits of other people's stuff for centuries! Think Isaac Newton "standing on the shoulders of giants." We all must use the creations and findings of others. An example in class was writing a research paper: it's basically a mashup of a bunch of other people's research. Yes we cite the authors and books, but do we site our parents for teaching us to talk? Do we cite our anyone for the local dialect we speak? Do we cite our conclusions to the morals we were brought up with or our religious leaders? No. In the remixes I've seen, the original artists are cited. Artists and distributors should take it as free advertising. I can't even tell you how many times I've seen videos on YouTube of mashups of songs or whatever, and I ended up buying one of the original artist's songs on iTunes, or went out and bought a whole album. Ok. Those are my basic thoughts on class today.
Well I just thought I'd mention that I'm feeling better about having synesthesia today. I even found out my best friend from high school associates colors to everything too. She told me I am yellow and Kelly is red. Cool, huh!? I knew I was being dumb the other day, but I really did feel kinda different and freaky. I had to keep reminding myself that nothing about me had changed. I've always been this way and I'm intelligent and happy and functional and have great friends and an awesome family and a wonderful man. Honestly, I'm not quite sure what Kelly is classified as right now. My boyfriend? that seems so un-Kelly it's ridiculous. He is neither a boy, nor merely a friend. He's my BEST friend; he's my life; he's me in male form, my other half--my other 7/8ths! And we've been through so much together, we're so much more than just boyfriend and girlfriend. Is he my unofficial-but-pretty-much-set-in-stone-fiance-ish? Well, yes, but that's quite a mouthful...he'll just have to be "my man" until he's back.
You know how people are complaining about how the Twilight books raise girls' expectations for a guy they'll never find because he doesn't exist? Well, Kelly is better than Edward. (And yes, I hate to admit I read the books...it was one of those "oh I'm at home for the summer, my family's all busy, Kelly's 6,000 miles away, the books are right there on the shelf, and I'm bored, so let's see what the heck all this hype is about." So I read them, was somewhat intrigued by the storyline, but I'm not a big fan, either. I confess, Edward's pretty cool, but I liked reading about him just because the sweet things he'd do or say reminded me of Kelly. The perfect gentleman.) But really, I'm not saying that girls need to find someone super-unbelievably-sexy-hot (though Kelly is) or really athletic or strong, or someone who doesn't age, or has 9 doctral degrees! But really, don't settle for someone who doesn't treat you right. Guys ought to open doors, be kind, compliment, and be patient and accepting and willing to sacrifice everything for you if he really loves you. I'm not saying girls should make him sacrifice everything, but the willingness is kinda vital for marriage. Of course girls have to be likable and nice and patient and grateful and willing to sacrifice everything for him too. It's definitely a team effort. You can't expect someone to be perfect to you if you are a big jerk all the time. But I really think it's so tragic when you hear of a girl who marries someone who chains her to an engine block while he's gone. Or men who don't allow their wives access to money or let them have a job. Or even when a girl marries some guy who is always critical and says hateful things like she needs to lose weight when she's 110 lbs, or that she isn't doing a good job with the kids when he never helps out at all and she's doing her best, or whatever. And it's equally sad when a wonderful guy is married to a spiteful girl who always nags and doesn't appreciate all he does for her.
(Admittedly not the best pictures of either of us, but are you feelin' the love here?)
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Discovering Myself...
Tragically in class today I found out I'm a freak.
Apparently I have Grapheme-color Synesthesia.
I never knew it was weird that some letters had colors in my mind's eye,
Or that all the days of the week associated with a color.
Sunday-Black
Monday-Sky Blue
Tuesday-Orangy-Yellow
Wednesday-Red
Thursday-Bluish-Gray
Friday-Dark Blue
Saturday-White
Weird. Weird. Weird. Weird. Weird. Weird. Weird.
I do have a crazy memory of my childhood when I asked my mom what color she thought a day of the week was. She looked and me like "what?" and I dropped it and didn't even think twice about it. I assumed I wasn't asking the question quite right. I mean, when it's Thursday the whole day doesn't automatically seem bluish-gray. It's just the thought of the word in my mind.
The discussion in class went all over today, from skydiving to philosophy, but this is the part that stuck. My brain is weird. But I was just researching it, and I found out a lot of famous artists, musicians, authors, and poets were synesthetes. Franz Liszt, Charles Baudelaire, Leonard Bernstein, Duke Ellington, Jean Sibelius, Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakav. Wow. I am not feeling as freakish anymore. Except I've just been reading the statistics and they think that anywhere between 1 in 23 people have it to 1 in 100,000. But obviously a lot of people don't even know they have it, like me before 1 o'clock this afternoon. I mean, I always knew this was part of me, but I never knew it had a name or is called a condition like it's a sickness or something. Honestly, I think it helps me memorize (and believe me, I am a good memorizer.) I'm good at memorizing quotes and lists and poems and music and well, anything I feel like knowing word-for-word (or being able to play note-for-note). I don't write things down in a planner very often, but somehow I just remember when things are. Maybe it's because the days have colors. And I am an excellent speller. Sometimes words just look wrong. Is it because the colors of the letters I have in my mind aren't matching up? I don't know. Possibly.
It sounds like Synesthesia affects some people more than it affects me. Sometimes I can associate music with color, but that just feels very natural. Some of the composers I was reading about have each key in a different color, or even each and every note with a color of its own. I don't do that. Some people have every single letter with a color that never changes, but for me it's just most of the alphabet. The firmest in my mind is the days of the week, although I think the names of months kind of have colors too. Numbers don't really have colors either, well, maybe some of them, but it's not as strong. Some words as a whole even have a color association for me. Other people "taste" words. Or like that book The Man Who Tasted Shapes. That's a different kind of synesthesia than I have. Some actually see the colors of the letters on the page as they're reading. It's not like that for me. It's more like I grew up and saw a letter in a certain color on Sesame Street or something and it just stuck with me in my brain, so I associate it. I don't actually see it with my eyes; I just picture it that color in my mind's eye.
So, discovery of today: I am a Synesthete. A Grapheme-color Synesthete, to be precise.
Apparently I have Grapheme-color Synesthesia.
I never knew it was weird that some letters had colors in my mind's eye,
Or that all the days of the week associated with a color.
Sunday-Black
Monday-Sky Blue
Tuesday-Orangy-Yellow
Wednesday-Red
Thursday-Bluish-Gray
Friday-Dark Blue
Saturday-White
Weird. Weird. Weird. Weird. Weird. Weird. Weird.
I do have a crazy memory of my childhood when I asked my mom what color she thought a day of the week was. She looked and me like "what?" and I dropped it and didn't even think twice about it. I assumed I wasn't asking the question quite right. I mean, when it's Thursday the whole day doesn't automatically seem bluish-gray. It's just the thought of the word in my mind.
The discussion in class went all over today, from skydiving to philosophy, but this is the part that stuck. My brain is weird. But I was just researching it, and I found out a lot of famous artists, musicians, authors, and poets were synesthetes. Franz Liszt, Charles Baudelaire, Leonard Bernstein, Duke Ellington, Jean Sibelius, Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakav. Wow. I am not feeling as freakish anymore. Except I've just been reading the statistics and they think that anywhere between 1 in 23 people have it to 1 in 100,000. But obviously a lot of people don't even know they have it, like me before 1 o'clock this afternoon. I mean, I always knew this was part of me, but I never knew it had a name or is called a condition like it's a sickness or something. Honestly, I think it helps me memorize (and believe me, I am a good memorizer.) I'm good at memorizing quotes and lists and poems and music and well, anything I feel like knowing word-for-word (or being able to play note-for-note). I don't write things down in a planner very often, but somehow I just remember when things are. Maybe it's because the days have colors. And I am an excellent speller. Sometimes words just look wrong. Is it because the colors of the letters I have in my mind aren't matching up? I don't know. Possibly.
It sounds like Synesthesia affects some people more than it affects me. Sometimes I can associate music with color, but that just feels very natural. Some of the composers I was reading about have each key in a different color, or even each and every note with a color of its own. I don't do that. Some people have every single letter with a color that never changes, but for me it's just most of the alphabet. The firmest in my mind is the days of the week, although I think the names of months kind of have colors too. Numbers don't really have colors either, well, maybe some of them, but it's not as strong. Some words as a whole even have a color association for me. Other people "taste" words. Or like that book The Man Who Tasted Shapes. That's a different kind of synesthesia than I have. Some actually see the colors of the letters on the page as they're reading. It's not like that for me. It's more like I grew up and saw a letter in a certain color on Sesame Street or something and it just stuck with me in my brain, so I associate it. I don't actually see it with my eyes; I just picture it that color in my mind's eye.
So, discovery of today: I am a Synesthete. A Grapheme-color Synesthete, to be precise.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Gathering Back my Brain Drips
Yesterday we had the most interesting and mind-boggling discussion in class.
While I was walking home, I'm quite sure my brain was dripping out my ears.
So I put my headphones in
Both to listen to my iPod and to plug the holes my brain matter was oozing out of.
On my walk to school this morning I took the same route and scraped up all the gray drips of my own brain from the sidewalk.
I think I got it all.
The discussion went from this ted talk
to the Yin Yang of Taoism and how everything comes in twos, to a very confusing lecture on Quantum Mechanics and String Theory. I caught most of it, up to the double slit experiment. I understood what is possible to understand there. And when he was talking of all the empty space in atoms I remembered that from chemistry and also because of the Flash. You know how he moves so fast he can move through the empty space in atoms so he can walk through walls? (Pretty cool, eh?) After that I was lost until he showed a movie which discussed the interconnections of all matter in the universe and a guy compared it to music. A 'C' and an 'E' are nice notes, right? Put them together and you have a marvelous Major Third, the most popular and basic chord. But just a C is not a major third, and just an E is not a major third. The INTERCONNECTION of the two is! And then the interconnections of time and the notes ultimately make a melody which ultimately leads to music! Music is interconnections. Then I managed to swim to the top again. I even got the allusions to "The music of the spheres" from Kepler to Shakespeare to Pythagoras. Then today as I was reading a text book for a completely different class (ok, so technically nothing can be completely different from that class, since it's interdisciplinary.) Ancient Greece, it was talking about Pythagoras and his cosmic music that supposedly only he could hear! Interconnections!
Another interconnection I had was directly after my honors class. I was discussing the lecture with a fellow classmate and I mentioned Brian Regan sitting on his couch watching a NOVA on String Theory.
"I started watching it at eight PM, and at eight-oh-three, my brain exploded." I was wanting some potato chips and a couch. And I even remembered I had string cheese in my fridge at my apartment. And she was thinking of the same Brian Regan act during class too! Was it because she was sitting right next to me, and our right brains were interconnected because we were just two "energy beings" part of the same environment? Or was it our actual brain atoms moving all over the place, since there really are no boundaries according to Quantum Mechanics? I mean, maybe some of the molecules from her brain landed in my brain and gave me the thought, or vice versa. Or could it perhaps be that we are pretty much best friends and have even watched that particular video of Brian Regan together? Hmmm...the endless array of possibilities...
While I was walking home, I'm quite sure my brain was dripping out my ears.
So I put my headphones in
Both to listen to my iPod and to plug the holes my brain matter was oozing out of.
On my walk to school this morning I took the same route and scraped up all the gray drips of my own brain from the sidewalk.
I think I got it all.
The discussion went from this ted talk
to the Yin Yang of Taoism and how everything comes in twos, to a very confusing lecture on Quantum Mechanics and String Theory. I caught most of it, up to the double slit experiment. I understood what is possible to understand there. And when he was talking of all the empty space in atoms I remembered that from chemistry and also because of the Flash. You know how he moves so fast he can move through the empty space in atoms so he can walk through walls? (Pretty cool, eh?) After that I was lost until he showed a movie which discussed the interconnections of all matter in the universe and a guy compared it to music. A 'C' and an 'E' are nice notes, right? Put them together and you have a marvelous Major Third, the most popular and basic chord. But just a C is not a major third, and just an E is not a major third. The INTERCONNECTION of the two is! And then the interconnections of time and the notes ultimately make a melody which ultimately leads to music! Music is interconnections. Then I managed to swim to the top again. I even got the allusions to "The music of the spheres" from Kepler to Shakespeare to Pythagoras. Then today as I was reading a text book for a completely different class (ok, so technically nothing can be completely different from that class, since it's interdisciplinary.) Ancient Greece, it was talking about Pythagoras and his cosmic music that supposedly only he could hear! Interconnections!
Another interconnection I had was directly after my honors class. I was discussing the lecture with a fellow classmate and I mentioned Brian Regan sitting on his couch watching a NOVA on String Theory.
"I started watching it at eight PM, and at eight-oh-three, my brain exploded." I was wanting some potato chips and a couch. And I even remembered I had string cheese in my fridge at my apartment. And she was thinking of the same Brian Regan act during class too! Was it because she was sitting right next to me, and our right brains were interconnected because we were just two "energy beings" part of the same environment? Or was it our actual brain atoms moving all over the place, since there really are no boundaries according to Quantum Mechanics? I mean, maybe some of the molecules from her brain landed in my brain and gave me the thought, or vice versa. Or could it perhaps be that we are pretty much best friends and have even watched that particular video of Brian Regan together? Hmmm...the endless array of possibilities...
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Random Thoughts Pertaining to HONR 4010 Theme: Library vs. Bookstore Economy
I'm thinking about the mapping project.
This mapping project.
A girl in class wearing a red shirt asked if she could do her map 3D.
Dr. Nickerson said his would be 4D
And everyone laughed, but not me, because I know what the 4th Dimension is.
(So did Dr. Nickerson. Time. He wasn't kidding.)
Where did I learn this?
One time I stumbled onto a video explaining the 10 Dimensions.
Wow was it cool. Wow was it mind boggling.
I love stumbling.
I love Firefox.
(P.S. Look what I found while stumbling!)
Memes.
Can a melody be a meme?
Like Dias Irea, the death motif from clear back in the Middle Ages.
It's in all sorts of things: the movie "The Ring," Berlioz's "Symphony Fantastique," heck, we played it in band today in one of the movements in "The Epic of Gilgamesh."
Media allows memes to travel...little "Swimming memes"
Ha ha. Funny.
These little memes swimming through media waves can sweep through the world in seconds thanks to the internet.
(I love Firefox.)
Do animals have memes?
Once I saw some monkeys on TV.
One was taught to work this little "monkey slot machine" that gave her a treat if she pulled the levers and pushed the buttons in the right order.
Then other monkeys in her little group watched her do it, then they all took a turn and they could do it too. On the first try--just from watching.
It was all the rage.
Then they took the "slot machine" and let the enemy monkeys in the cage across the way try it, and just from watching a those other ones do it, who weren't even the same type (in fact one type of monkey would kill and eat the other type of monkey if they were together.) well, anyway, those monkeys could do it on their first try too, and they were in a zoo. It wasn't like some scientist was holding down said enemy monkeys and making them watch. They had other things they could be doing like climbing on their jungle gym or picking fleas out of one another, or just sitting somewhere out of sight, but some watched and learned and imitated. That's what memes are: "any thought or behavior that can be passed from one person [or perhaps monkey] to another by means of imitation." (thanks Wikipedia, even though you are often unreliable. I won't even get started on that from my intellectual/history major viewpoint.) Memes are often in the form of fashion trends, like in Korea when every girl had one of those velcro monkeys around her neck for about 2 weeks. That meme passed quick.
A library is a giant reservoir of memes say Dr. Nickerson.
Memes go out of style, but we keep a record, and sometimes they come back. Like bell bottoms. Museums are meme reservoirs. One guy in class pointed out that DI is a big meme reservoir. "Don't mind me, I'm just going to that big storehouse of memes next to Central Park" or "I'm going to go study at the meme reservoir where it's quiet." Or, "Hey, I could really use a 25 cent shirt, I'm going to go shop at Dated Meme Industries."
Libraries are today's Oral Tradition. Not that it's oral...it's what has taken that place. Instead of having someone keep our stories in their brains for us, everything is stored in books, newspapers, etc. and that all ends up at the library. Of course before libraries came around written language replaced oral tradition. Did you know The Epic of Gilgamesh was written in the first written language? Not the music I played in band today, but the actual epic. But still weird how things end up linking, isn't it?
My phone's ringing. In class today Dr. Petersen told us the flip phone comes from an idea on Star Trek. I've never watched Star Trek, but that's still pretty cool. So obviously science fiction can influence technology. They were making comic books about going to space before anyone actually did it. But what do you bet those NASA engineers and Sputnik creators read those comic books as a kid and dreamt? Ok, so I'm not sure if that kind of stuff was popular in the Soviet Union, but possibly. When I wrote my senior thesis last semester there was a girl who wrote her thesis at the same time and her's was on how science fiction affected history. (Because we're history majors.) But really, technology is part of history. What American history class have you taken that didn't cover the cotton gin or the Industrial Revolution? Ever heard of Johannes Gutenberg and his movable type? That changed history. "My favorite tall tale is about Eli Whitney and his interchangeable parts." I can't remember who said that, but it's still pretty awesome and somewhat relevant since I was talking about inventions and the cotton gin, which also happened to be invented by Eli Whitney.
This mapping project.
A girl in class wearing a red shirt asked if she could do her map 3D.
Dr. Nickerson said his would be 4D
And everyone laughed, but not me, because I know what the 4th Dimension is.
(So did Dr. Nickerson. Time. He wasn't kidding.)
Where did I learn this?
One time I stumbled onto a video explaining the 10 Dimensions.
Wow was it cool. Wow was it mind boggling.
I love stumbling.
I love Firefox.
(P.S. Look what I found while stumbling!)
Memes.
Can a melody be a meme?
Like Dias Irea, the death motif from clear back in the Middle Ages.
It's in all sorts of things: the movie "The Ring," Berlioz's "Symphony Fantastique," heck, we played it in band today in one of the movements in "The Epic of Gilgamesh."
Media allows memes to travel...little "Swimming memes"
Ha ha. Funny.
These little memes swimming through media waves can sweep through the world in seconds thanks to the internet.
(I love Firefox.)
Do animals have memes?
Once I saw some monkeys on TV.
One was taught to work this little "monkey slot machine" that gave her a treat if she pulled the levers and pushed the buttons in the right order.
Then other monkeys in her little group watched her do it, then they all took a turn and they could do it too. On the first try--just from watching.
It was all the rage.
Then they took the "slot machine" and let the enemy monkeys in the cage across the way try it, and just from watching a those other ones do it, who weren't even the same type (in fact one type of monkey would kill and eat the other type of monkey if they were together.) well, anyway, those monkeys could do it on their first try too, and they were in a zoo. It wasn't like some scientist was holding down said enemy monkeys and making them watch. They had other things they could be doing like climbing on their jungle gym or picking fleas out of one another, or just sitting somewhere out of sight, but some watched and learned and imitated. That's what memes are: "any thought or behavior that can be passed from one person [or perhaps monkey] to another by means of imitation." (thanks Wikipedia, even though you are often unreliable. I won't even get started on that from my intellectual/history major viewpoint.) Memes are often in the form of fashion trends, like in Korea when every girl had one of those velcro monkeys around her neck for about 2 weeks. That meme passed quick.
A library is a giant reservoir of memes say Dr. Nickerson.
Memes go out of style, but we keep a record, and sometimes they come back. Like bell bottoms. Museums are meme reservoirs. One guy in class pointed out that DI is a big meme reservoir. "Don't mind me, I'm just going to that big storehouse of memes next to Central Park" or "I'm going to go study at the meme reservoir where it's quiet." Or, "Hey, I could really use a 25 cent shirt, I'm going to go shop at Dated Meme Industries."
Libraries are today's Oral Tradition. Not that it's oral...it's what has taken that place. Instead of having someone keep our stories in their brains for us, everything is stored in books, newspapers, etc. and that all ends up at the library. Of course before libraries came around written language replaced oral tradition. Did you know The Epic of Gilgamesh was written in the first written language? Not the music I played in band today, but the actual epic. But still weird how things end up linking, isn't it?
My phone's ringing. In class today Dr. Petersen told us the flip phone comes from an idea on Star Trek. I've never watched Star Trek, but that's still pretty cool. So obviously science fiction can influence technology. They were making comic books about going to space before anyone actually did it. But what do you bet those NASA engineers and Sputnik creators read those comic books as a kid and dreamt? Ok, so I'm not sure if that kind of stuff was popular in the Soviet Union, but possibly. When I wrote my senior thesis last semester there was a girl who wrote her thesis at the same time and her's was on how science fiction affected history. (Because we're history majors.) But really, technology is part of history. What American history class have you taken that didn't cover the cotton gin or the Industrial Revolution? Ever heard of Johannes Gutenberg and his movable type? That changed history. "My favorite tall tale is about Eli Whitney and his interchangeable parts." I can't remember who said that, but it's still pretty awesome and somewhat relevant since I was talking about inventions and the cotton gin, which also happened to be invented by Eli Whitney.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Everything From Sleeping In to 38 Toes
Ok whoever is sad enough to be reading this, this is not an assignment for my class, it's another practice. I'm just seeing if I can type as fast as I think (or at least fast enough to get everything down that I want to.)
I just woke up. It's 10:53. I love sleeping in, but then after I'm up I'm mad I wasted so much time sleeping. My mom gets up so early everyday--5 AM--and she runs about four miles just about morning. I went with her a few times this summer and I am such a wimp. I could run a mile then I'd have to walk a lap until she lapped me and then I'd run-one-walk-one until she was ready to go. But it's cool being up so early. Hardly anyone else is up and the day has so many more hours left in it at that time. It's easier to think at 5 or 6 than you could imagine. And being outside before the earth gets scorching-July-hot is so peaceful in the dark. Somehow early morning dark isn't scary like late-night dark can be. It's like subconsciously I realize the sun's going to rise soon, or like I think that all the scary things that lurk in the dark only stay up late--none of them are early-risers.
I remember having a night light as a kid, and my brother asked me why I was scared of the dark. I thought that it was a silly question. Of course I wasn't scared of the dark. It's what could possibly be hiding there. Of course later I kept the night light around so I could read after my parents made me go to bed. I was (and still am, actually) a voracious reader. I finished The Bridge to Terabithia by light of my night light. I was in third grade and it was the first book I'd ever read that had a sad ending. I was SOBBING and I wanted to talk to my mom, but I couldn't because then she'd know I was up to no good. Of course, looking back on it, she probably would have sympathized because she loves to read. She grew up in Hinckley, Utah and her parents taught her hard work. Reading was a waste of time in their opinion, so my mother would take a book and hide--in an irrigation ditch, the tiny crack between her wall and the bed, anywhere she could. I'm so grateful to my mom and my dad for encouraging me. My mom would put READ on our chore charts. I always saved this one for last so I could read as long as I wanted. This summer when I wasn't working our spending time with my family I read a lot. Most of my friends are married, so I was kind of lonely without Kelly around. I read the complete works of Jane Austin, as well as Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights, a lot of Shakespeare, and I read the Twilight series to see what the heck is up with all the hype. I didn't see it. I mean, it was an intriguing story, like, I wanted to know what happened, but I'd never read it again, and I am a BIG rereader of things.
"If you would tell me the heart of a man, tell me not what he reads, but what he rereads."
--Francois Mauriac
I guess I'm back to my mom. She also loves music. She instilled in her children a love of it and always has music playing, from Bach to the Beatles. She encouraged us all to play musical instruments because she never had that opportunity as a kid. My brother, Kevin, played the trumpet through Jr. High. I started clarinet lessons in sixth grade and I've played ever since. I actually minored in music. My younger brother, Bryan started trumpet lessons in probably 3rd or 4th grade, and now he also plays the baritone and he does marching band (like I did) and he's the drum major this year (like I was.) My younger sister, Cami, began playing the violin in first grade. She has quit now, but she had good run with it. Kevin also plays the guitar, Bryan plays the bass guitar and us younger three all pick at the piano a bit. None of us are any good at the piano, though. We always joke that we'll start a band--you know, like the Five Browns who all play the piano together? Well, we call our band "38 Toes" because that's what we've got if you add it all up. Kevin only has four toes on each foot. But that really would be a cool band name, huh? Obviously, Kevin and Bryan would play the guitars. I could play keyboard and Cami would be the pretty face of the group. Like Paul McCartney or the cute one from the Monkees. We'd hand her a tambourine and she can sing. Actually, we need a drummer. No one would ever come see us because the girls have no talent. Or maybe we'd get a following of teenage boys because Cami's so cute. Seriously, she has a following already and she'd not in a band. Or maybe we'd have a big fan group of curious podiatrists.
My poor brain is full of useless crap. I wish I could take some of it and be funny like Brian Reagan. My mom always thinks I'm funny. She's every comedian's dream audience. She's very quick to catch the humor and laughs gratifyingly. It's nice for someone like me who has mildly humorous remarks once in awhile. My dad's really funny. He has a very dry sense of humor that a lot of people don't understand. I love that kind of humor that makes you feel smart when only you and a couple of people get it. And then you're allowed to think that everyone else is stupid. Scott Nay and I used to joke like that at work and we'd fight so hard to keep a straight face and no one would get that we were joking. Then we'd leave the office and double over. It was especially hilarious when we'd joke about our boss in front of her and she was none the wiser. Anyway, I'm glad I was raised in the home I was so I can appreciate that kind of humor that some people will never even know exists. It's like being in a secret society or something. Tragically, it's just a society of court jesters.
I think I must miss my family since that seems to be the central idea in my thoughts today. It's only been a week since I saw them. But then, all my friends went home for Labor Day weekend, but seriously, I was just there and gas is expensive. I won't even get started on that (I think politics, but I rarely voice my opinions on that matter. That's why voting booths have curtains. And politics is one of those things that you're probably not going to change anyone's mind on here in Southern Utah where I feel like I'm extremely liberal. Really, I'm independent with some Democratic leanings. I seriously think some people from around here are so conservative they're fascist. Move over Hitler! We've got Hurricane, Utah! Or better yet, La Verkin!) Anyway, time is also a commodity and ten hours in the car for a day or two at home after I just spent a whole summer there feels wasteful of the time God granted me. Don't get me wrong, I love my family and miss having them around. I miss Kelly too. 17 months is a long time to not see your boyfriend. BUT! Only 7 months to go!!!
I just woke up. It's 10:53. I love sleeping in, but then after I'm up I'm mad I wasted so much time sleeping. My mom gets up so early everyday--5 AM--and she runs about four miles just about morning. I went with her a few times this summer and I am such a wimp. I could run a mile then I'd have to walk a lap until she lapped me and then I'd run-one-walk-one until she was ready to go. But it's cool being up so early. Hardly anyone else is up and the day has so many more hours left in it at that time. It's easier to think at 5 or 6 than you could imagine. And being outside before the earth gets scorching-July-hot is so peaceful in the dark. Somehow early morning dark isn't scary like late-night dark can be. It's like subconsciously I realize the sun's going to rise soon, or like I think that all the scary things that lurk in the dark only stay up late--none of them are early-risers.
I remember having a night light as a kid, and my brother asked me why I was scared of the dark. I thought that it was a silly question. Of course I wasn't scared of the dark. It's what could possibly be hiding there. Of course later I kept the night light around so I could read after my parents made me go to bed. I was (and still am, actually) a voracious reader. I finished The Bridge to Terabithia by light of my night light. I was in third grade and it was the first book I'd ever read that had a sad ending. I was SOBBING and I wanted to talk to my mom, but I couldn't because then she'd know I was up to no good. Of course, looking back on it, she probably would have sympathized because she loves to read. She grew up in Hinckley, Utah and her parents taught her hard work. Reading was a waste of time in their opinion, so my mother would take a book and hide--in an irrigation ditch, the tiny crack between her wall and the bed, anywhere she could. I'm so grateful to my mom and my dad for encouraging me. My mom would put READ on our chore charts. I always saved this one for last so I could read as long as I wanted. This summer when I wasn't working our spending time with my family I read a lot. Most of my friends are married, so I was kind of lonely without Kelly around. I read the complete works of Jane Austin, as well as Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights, a lot of Shakespeare, and I read the Twilight series to see what the heck is up with all the hype. I didn't see it. I mean, it was an intriguing story, like, I wanted to know what happened, but I'd never read it again, and I am a BIG rereader of things.
"If you would tell me the heart of a man, tell me not what he reads, but what he rereads."
--Francois Mauriac
I guess I'm back to my mom. She also loves music. She instilled in her children a love of it and always has music playing, from Bach to the Beatles. She encouraged us all to play musical instruments because she never had that opportunity as a kid. My brother, Kevin, played the trumpet through Jr. High. I started clarinet lessons in sixth grade and I've played ever since. I actually minored in music. My younger brother, Bryan started trumpet lessons in probably 3rd or 4th grade, and now he also plays the baritone and he does marching band (like I did) and he's the drum major this year (like I was.) My younger sister, Cami, began playing the violin in first grade. She has quit now, but she had good run with it. Kevin also plays the guitar, Bryan plays the bass guitar and us younger three all pick at the piano a bit. None of us are any good at the piano, though. We always joke that we'll start a band--you know, like the Five Browns who all play the piano together? Well, we call our band "38 Toes" because that's what we've got if you add it all up. Kevin only has four toes on each foot. But that really would be a cool band name, huh? Obviously, Kevin and Bryan would play the guitars. I could play keyboard and Cami would be the pretty face of the group. Like Paul McCartney or the cute one from the Monkees. We'd hand her a tambourine and she can sing. Actually, we need a drummer. No one would ever come see us because the girls have no talent. Or maybe we'd get a following of teenage boys because Cami's so cute. Seriously, she has a following already and she'd not in a band. Or maybe we'd have a big fan group of curious podiatrists.
My poor brain is full of useless crap. I wish I could take some of it and be funny like Brian Reagan. My mom always thinks I'm funny. She's every comedian's dream audience. She's very quick to catch the humor and laughs gratifyingly. It's nice for someone like me who has mildly humorous remarks once in awhile. My dad's really funny. He has a very dry sense of humor that a lot of people don't understand. I love that kind of humor that makes you feel smart when only you and a couple of people get it. And then you're allowed to think that everyone else is stupid. Scott Nay and I used to joke like that at work and we'd fight so hard to keep a straight face and no one would get that we were joking. Then we'd leave the office and double over. It was especially hilarious when we'd joke about our boss in front of her and she was none the wiser. Anyway, I'm glad I was raised in the home I was so I can appreciate that kind of humor that some people will never even know exists. It's like being in a secret society or something. Tragically, it's just a society of court jesters.
I think I must miss my family since that seems to be the central idea in my thoughts today. It's only been a week since I saw them. But then, all my friends went home for Labor Day weekend, but seriously, I was just there and gas is expensive. I won't even get started on that (I think politics, but I rarely voice my opinions on that matter. That's why voting booths have curtains. And politics is one of those things that you're probably not going to change anyone's mind on here in Southern Utah where I feel like I'm extremely liberal. Really, I'm independent with some Democratic leanings. I seriously think some people from around here are so conservative they're fascist. Move over Hitler! We've got Hurricane, Utah! Or better yet, La Verkin!) Anyway, time is also a commodity and ten hours in the car for a day or two at home after I just spent a whole summer there feels wasteful of the time God granted me. Don't get me wrong, I love my family and miss having them around. I miss Kelly too. 17 months is a long time to not see your boyfriend. BUT! Only 7 months to go!!!
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Honors 4010 and My Brain
So I'm in this class that's through the Honors Program here at SUU. I think it's going to end up being one of the coolest classes of my college experience. We watched a video clip from Ted.com called 4AM is the New Midnight
(http://www.ted.com/index.php/talks/rives_on_4_a_m.html)
and then had a seminar on it. That was on Tuesday. Today we had a long and intricate lecture (kind of...if you could really call it that) on, well, anything and everything. It just kind of went wherever it wanted to. Tangents are desirable in this class. Well, we have a new assignment that will last the length of the semester and it's pretty much just mapping out what our brain is thinking. We're supposed to tie it all in with the class, so this is just going to be a practice. I'll start on the real meat and potatoes sometime next week after I figure out some style I prefer. So when I got home from classes I was eating lunch and I got my notebook and started writing. These are today's random thoughts during a late lunch:
"So I was slicing up a tomato for a salad thinking about this assignment and for the first time in my life it felt like nothing was jangling around in this brain of mine. Then I realized I had a song stuck in my head (not a rare occurance--actually, I can't imagine NOT having a song stuck in my head.) It's a Relient K song I'd listened to on my iPod (love that thing) on my walk home from campus. It's a song called Mood Rings and it's about how emotional girls should wear mood rings to warn guys. I realized that often I think of myself a OUTSIDE of most things--like, "yeah, emotional girls should wear mood rings--I wouldn't have to." But then I thought of the line about if the ring is clear then she's emotionless. What kind of horrible world would that be if no one had emotions? Movies and music and art wouldn't appeal to us--heck, probably none of those things would even exist! There would be none of that Honor's Program passion that Nickerson is so, well, passionate about. No love or mercy or compassion. We'd all be a bunch of Heinrich Himmlers running around not caring about others so we'd steal or murder--or perhaps we'd just do absolutely nothing like the fat people on Wall-E (cute movie, by the way).
Thinking of Relient K I have another one of their songs stuck in my head now--Who I Am Hates Who I've Been. For me that statement of a title is true and false, now that I think about it. Sometimes I really do want to go out and bury myself in a gravel pit for some of the dumb things I've done. But just now I realized that I wouldn't be who I am if I never was who I've been. And for perhaps the first time in my life I like me. I mean, of course I want to improve on just about everything about me, but I'm realizing that I'm not that bad. I'm not trying to sound cocky, because really I'm not, but I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm more comfortable with myself than I've ever been before.
Oh my, this tomato tastes kind of nasty. Probably because it was kinda shrivelly--which is why I ate it, before it went completely bad. You know, I'm amazed that more college students don't die of food poisoning. Seriously, because I also think this milk I'm drinking is sour. But then, Kelly thinks I have some sort of complex about sour milk. I probably do--Kelly's always right somehow. I love Kelly. How did I get so lucky? Ironically enough, it was Kelly who introduced me to Relient K all those years ago. Oh, the weird connections in life and the crazy disjointed randomness of my brain. But really, now I am quite sure this milk really is sour."
(http://www.ted.com/index.php/talks/rives_on_4_a_m.html)
and then had a seminar on it. That was on Tuesday. Today we had a long and intricate lecture (kind of...if you could really call it that) on, well, anything and everything. It just kind of went wherever it wanted to. Tangents are desirable in this class. Well, we have a new assignment that will last the length of the semester and it's pretty much just mapping out what our brain is thinking. We're supposed to tie it all in with the class, so this is just going to be a practice. I'll start on the real meat and potatoes sometime next week after I figure out some style I prefer. So when I got home from classes I was eating lunch and I got my notebook and started writing. These are today's random thoughts during a late lunch:
"So I was slicing up a tomato for a salad thinking about this assignment and for the first time in my life it felt like nothing was jangling around in this brain of mine. Then I realized I had a song stuck in my head (not a rare occurance--actually, I can't imagine NOT having a song stuck in my head.) It's a Relient K song I'd listened to on my iPod (love that thing) on my walk home from campus. It's a song called Mood Rings and it's about how emotional girls should wear mood rings to warn guys. I realized that often I think of myself a OUTSIDE of most things--like, "yeah, emotional girls should wear mood rings--I wouldn't have to." But then I thought of the line about if the ring is clear then she's emotionless. What kind of horrible world would that be if no one had emotions? Movies and music and art wouldn't appeal to us--heck, probably none of those things would even exist! There would be none of that Honor's Program passion that Nickerson is so, well, passionate about. No love or mercy or compassion. We'd all be a bunch of Heinrich Himmlers running around not caring about others so we'd steal or murder--or perhaps we'd just do absolutely nothing like the fat people on Wall-E (cute movie, by the way).
Thinking of Relient K I have another one of their songs stuck in my head now--Who I Am Hates Who I've Been. For me that statement of a title is true and false, now that I think about it. Sometimes I really do want to go out and bury myself in a gravel pit for some of the dumb things I've done. But just now I realized that I wouldn't be who I am if I never was who I've been. And for perhaps the first time in my life I like me. I mean, of course I want to improve on just about everything about me, but I'm realizing that I'm not that bad. I'm not trying to sound cocky, because really I'm not, but I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm more comfortable with myself than I've ever been before.
Oh my, this tomato tastes kind of nasty. Probably because it was kinda shrivelly--which is why I ate it, before it went completely bad. You know, I'm amazed that more college students don't die of food poisoning. Seriously, because I also think this milk I'm drinking is sour. But then, Kelly thinks I have some sort of complex about sour milk. I probably do--Kelly's always right somehow. I love Kelly. How did I get so lucky? Ironically enough, it was Kelly who introduced me to Relient K all those years ago. Oh, the weird connections in life and the crazy disjointed randomness of my brain. But really, now I am quite sure this milk really is sour."
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