Jane Austen, 3

Again, a little late. This week, Mansfield Park. I missed the first part for unknown reasons. I believe it had something to do with my computer. I wasn't too worried though, as I had seen a different version of Mansfield Park several times before--I knew the story line. Yellow showed up (he and Hodag have become regulars to Jane Austen night) and I took that as my cue to watch the movie. It was a little hard to figure out who was who. (I mean, really, Fanny Price is blonde! I wasn't used to that.)

When the rescreening happened on Monday, I was tired and decided to go to bed and missed the second showing, so I'm gonna have to base this solely upon my not-full viewing the first time through.

I have mixed feelings about this one. The Heartless Siren's version--the one I've seen before--has some very risque parts. I struggle with this because I like the story line a lot... but I wouldn't want my children to watch the movie. Thus, I shouldn't be watching the movie. (Maybe I should look more into ClearPlay as Laser Jock keeps raving about...) I had heard that one of the directors of some of these new Austen films was rather risque in his interpretations... what better candidate of story than this one? But then again, this was on PBS... it couldn't be that bad, right?

I am pleased to report that this version was rather clean and not nearly as risque as I feared. However, the mood, the story, everything was so much different. For one, you don't trust Mr. Crawford from the very beginning in this one. One of the things I like about Heartless's version is that you simply adore Mr. Crawford for the majority of the film, yet Fanny sees differently and doesn't trust him. So when he turns out to be a jerkface, you respect her so much more. Also, in Heartless' version, Miss Crawford is so much more likable. In the PBS version, you can't fathom why Edmund falls in love with her.

I dunno... I much prefer the cleanliness of the PBS version... but I like the story better in Heartless's version. I'm intrigued now to read the book and see which is actually true to the story. Final judgment yet to come.

Focused free writing

I have a flaw. (I know... shocking...) Sometimes, when the path isn't clear, when I can't see the end, when I don't know how it's going to turn out... I am scared to walk down that path. This is bad because most paths are not entirely visible. If I only walked down the paths that I had a map for, I would rarely move. The thing is, I want to walk down this path. I'm enjoying the view as I meander down. It seems the right path to be walking down. I've been clinging to the chance to walk down this path. Now here I am! I got my chance.

But sometimes, I look back at the boulders I had to climb to get where I am and they frighten me. It's probably a sign of insanity to get scared of a boulder I've already climbed. Who knew memories could frighten more than the actual event? Why does a glance backwards make me consider fleeing the path forward? What am I actually scared of? Maybe I think that if there were boulders at the beginning, surely there will be more of the same kind of boulders later on. Maybe I see what I've done and the seemingly impossibility of the climb and just have a delayed reaction of fear. Maybe Satan just doesn't want me to make it to the next bend and thus is filling me with fear so that I won't proceed.

Despite it all, I am content to keep walking. I'm trying to stay in the middle of the path where there is more light and less chance of scary things lurking off to the side. I have no intention of giving in to my fear. I have no desire to change paths. The hope of what is at the end is worth the risk of the walk. Besides, it's a slow walk. There is no rush to get to the end. I can take it one step at a time and enjoy the truly beautiful scenery around me... the patch of thick forest, the meadow of wildflowers, the snow-capped mountains in the distance, the setting sun causing deep reds to spread across the sky, and even the stormy clouds in the distance pierced by lightening bolts. You would think that walking towards a potential storm in the approaching night would be enough to deter me. Many would say I'm crazy to even consider it... maybe they're right. But I love watching storms, and night in the wilderness means bright stars... maybe even a glimpse of the Milky Way. Why would I choose a different path now? I suppose it's a matter of perspective. Storm or beautiful excitement? Lurking shadows or bright, shining stars?

I'm not complaining. I just wish that peace and contentment weren't followed with glimpses of doubt and fear. But I suppose overcoming fear is an important step to fully enjoying something.

Glimpses in the dark, 1

Contentment is when things don't make sense in your head, yet there is peace in your heart.

Fire! Fire!

I read dimmi's blog today and learned all sorts of interesting thing about fires and fire hazards. My favorite were the the almost-last ones, because they totally reminded me of The Heartless Siren and The Cold One:

- 90% of all kitchen fires happen when the cook is away from the kitchen.

- NEVER pour flour on a fire. It is extremely flammable and will not put out the fire.

Police Beat

I've always loved reading the Police Beat. Read this here parody for utter enjoyment and laughter. bismark, I thought of you when I read the second entry under "Bad Criminal Evil Stuff."

Jane Austen, 2

Northanger Abbey. Yes, I'm a few days late (it aired on Sunday). But to make up for it, I've now watched it twice. No, not because it was just that good, but because The Cold One didn't get to watch it the first time so we recorded it for her and watched it last night. And, the second time, I didn't really watch the first half. More, I listened to it while making fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy. Good news is, dinner was rather tasty. I think it was well worth it. I've decided, I really like cooking for other people. Because then I get to make things like fried chicken.

Anyway, back to the movie. This movie was very different than most Jane Austen's that I am used to. It was based around trashy gothic romance novels and sinister evil men. Mr. Thorpe made me cringe at the first sight when his shifty eyes watched Catherine dance. He continues to be a jerkface from then on. We started the movie with the typical Jane Austen mindset. Mr. Tilney came on, wooing the women with his knowledge of muslin and Desdemona immediately started wondering if we should like him. He seems likable, and thus, we shouldn't like him--like Mr. Wickham. I disagreed. But perhaps that's just because I had already decided I really liked Mr. Tilney. I was taking a risk in opening myself up to disappointment if Desdemona was right. Then there's Captain Tilney who is an utter jerkface and always seems shmarmy. Much like the Shmarmy Prince in Into the Woods. Then there's Mr. Tilney (the dad). Every time he walked into the scene, the music changed to make you think you were watching some creepy, scary movie. It set the mood so that you could never possibly like him. Unless, of course, you are Hodag and like him for his obvious evil-nature and admire his sideburns.

The story has the typical Jane Austen, fall in love, have some sort of major conflict where you fear it won't actually work out in the end, but it really does and everyone lives happily ever after. Of course, after you realize how perfect and ideal the man who makes you swoon (and this time actually riding up on a white horse) shows up at the end and saves the day.

I leave you with the closing line of both book and movie: "I leave it to be settled whether the tendency of this story be to recommend parental tyranny or to reward filial disobedience."

High School dance dates

I had to plan a date a week or two ago. As Sister was giving me ideas, I started shooting them down. "No, Sister. I'm not going to take him to a grocery store and play The Price is Right with the items on the shelf. That's so high school dance." Finally I told her (and to Mom later that balked at the idea of me shooting all the ideas down) that anything I had to explain to the guy was out. It would be silly. I would be judged for it. "But, you need a guy who will be silly. He has to accept you for being silly. If he doesn't like the date, then you know he's out," explained Mom. I saw the logic, but still couldn't agree. Yes, I'm silly, but I've grown... I've matured. Oh sure, I loved going bowling for Sadie Hawkins where we assigned each color of Skittles a kind of bowling (Granny Bowling, left-handed bowling, on your stomach and pushing, etc.) then every time you went up, you had to blindly draw a Skittle and bowl like that. Yes, that was fun. Even if I had to explain it to the guy first. But I was a Junior in high school! I cannot stoop to that level now. People around me have matured and grown up. I must be like them. Yet, in the back of my mind lingered all the fun times I had on dates because my mom and her cousin were willing to be wild and crazy for us. But that was different.

Today I helped Foreman in a Cloak and Dagger kind of activity. It was great fun. Holy cow it was great fun. He has gone to some lengths to get a date, that's for sure. And somehow, having him do something crazy like that was ok. Amazing, even. Completely socially acceptable. So why not for me? Part of me really wants to do something extravagant and crazily silly for a date. Though, I still think I'd prefer if it were the guy doing the asking and planning. Well, I'd be willing to help plan. Like, if he said, "Let's do something extravagant and crazily silly for a date. High school dance fashion, even," then I'd be all about helping plan. Especially if I knew the guy and he wouldn't judge me for having crazy ideas. I mean, really, part of me still wants to fulfill my girlhood dream of driving through a drive-thru backwards. But I would never be able to do it. He would have to do the driving. And I would sit in the passenger seat laughing and being embarrassed. But, I would love it. Then I would come home raving to my roommates about how I loved the date and how he can actually be silly and fun and how that was so good for me.

Despite it all, I don't foresee myself planning any such dates in the future. Largely because I don't foresee myself planning any dates in the near future. But also because the social structural wall around me still won't allow it. Next step? Find a guy who will talk me into doing such things. And not be awkward about it. And do it in such a way that I won't be embarrassed about it. Really, that's not too much to ask, is it? [innocent smile]

Musings, 2

Do you ever want something more, just because you know you can't have it?

Ironically, I Always Get What I Want by Avril Lavigne just started playing on my very random iTunes playlist.

Total randomness

Instead of peppering you with another bajillion blogs, here are things I wanted to blog about today.

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I was taking a quiz today and I had to pick my age from a drop down list. My mouse immediately went to 21. Then I thought, wait, I'm not 21. My mouse moved down one number at a time, forcing myself to consciously think if that was my age. I hovered the longest over 24 when I remembered, yes, yes... that is my age.

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I ate a Snickers bar... and I feel a headache forming.
I think I've officially decided that sugar causes headaches in me.

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My Random Album (from becca)

Go to
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:Random
The first article on the page will be your band name.

Then
http://www.quotationspage.com/random.php3
The last four words of the last quote on the page will be the name of your album.

And lastly
http://www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days/?
The third picture is your album cover.

Now put them together!

(Note: I didn't particularly like my first one. It was grammatically incorrect. This is my second try.  I rather like this one... very peaceful.)

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I took this quiz (from Chillylint's blog).  I'm pretty sure this lies:

What's Your True Color?

My Result: Black

Your color is black. The color of night. Serene and mysterious, black conjures up images of elegant evening gowns, dashing tuxedos, and gleaming limousines. Traditionally a symbol of success, black also represents power and an uncompromising demand for perfection. Not surprisingly, you tend to set challenging goals for yourself and do whatever it takes to achieve them — your strength of character is second to none. This unfaltering determination, along with your natural elegance, impresses people. But keep in mind that your personality might be intimidating to some. Try to temper your demanding side with a little softness — trust us, it won't kill you. Overall, though, black is the color of professionalism and achievement, which means it's clearly the color for you.

Take this test >

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One of my friends sent me a cartoon character personality quiz.  My results?  Charlie Brown.  I like this for two reasons.  1) My mom used to call me Charlie Brown.  2) The description of me fits so much better than the color one did.

You are Charlie Brown: You are tender, you fall in love quickly, but you are also very serious about all relationships. You are a family person. You call your Mom every Sunday. You have many friends and may occasionally forget a few Birthdays. Don't let your passion confuse you with reality.

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The end.

Simple pleasures

I wore my hair in a ponytail all day today.  I don't have a headache.  

Miracles happen.

[daydreaming]

I was just thinking I needed a new Mac.

To tell a story...

I get asked all the time, "How do you have such amazing stories? My life is so boring." I'm a firm believer that everyone has the most amazing stories... they just don't realize it. Part of having amazing stories is knowing how to recognize them. Now, I know some of you will laugh at me for this, because I have oft been given the honor of being the least observant person in the world, but really, the key is to be observant to the events around you.

For example, this morning I drove to work. I left my house at approximately 6:40. Somewhere down 700 N. I glanced out my back window through my rear view mirror. Now, this wasn't the first time I had glanced out of my rear view mirror--I had done that as I backed out of my driveway--so the sight I beheld rather shocked me. How had I not noticed this while backing out of my driveway?! My back window was covered in a very light frost. Now, this is nothing incredible by any means. Most mornings my windows are covered in frost. But this morning, the frost was beautiful. The way the light from the street lamps hit it, it looked like some fairy had come and covered my window with fairy dust. For all I knew, my car could now fly. But really, the glittering effect that the light hitting the frost made was very mesmerizing. I was very sad to be driving because that meant I couldn't actually look at it. At least not for extended periods of time. Even more sad was the logic in me that told me that I would actually need to use that window and thus must turn on my rear defrost. It was very sad to watch that frost melt away. As the last few strips of frost were turning to water, I looked back at it one last time, sad that I had caused the death of something so beautiful. However, I did not die on my way to work, so I feel it was done in good measure.

Also, when I plugged in my iPod to my FM transmitter, it didn't seem to be working. My iPod said it was playing "S.O.S." by Abba, yet I was hearing "And I'm proud to be an American" come through my speakers. First I checked the station, thinking they weren't synced. The station I tune into actually has music that plays through it, so I thought that must be the culprit. However, typically it's hard rock--stuff I don't recognize--not nice patriotic music that I love to listen to. Finally, I decided the music had to be coming from my iPod. Weird... it really did say it was "S.O.S." So I hit back to restart the song to see if it would restart. Sure enough it did, this time playing "S.O.S." So weird. For some reason, my iPod said it was playing one song while actually playing another. Even more weird was that as soon as "S.O.S." finished, "Proud to be an American" started. Hmmmm...

Lastly, (goodness, it's only 9 am... how many stories do you think I have?! Ok... I actually do have more I could tell.... but I won't.) there was a car wreck on I-15 this morning. It took me over a half an hour to get between Lehi and Thanksgiving Point. It was ridiculous. Though, having been in one of those wrecks myself, I felt much less annoyance and much more empathy than usual. Yellow has this theory that the middle lane actually moves faster during rush hour, so I decided to trust him and was driving in the middle lane. Problem with this, though I didn't know it at the time, was that the wreck was in the right lane, so everyone was trying to merge into the center lane. This became very apparent to me when the semi to my right pulled up next to me, then put on its blinker. Now, this very act scares the bejeebies out of me. I have very good reason for this fear... perhaps someday I will tell the story. I sat there, going about 2 mph, trying to decide if I should just let the semi in front of me (requiring me to stop for probably 5 minutes to open up enough space) or if I should press forward, making someone else let him in. Neither seemed a pleasant option. I didn't want to have to follow a semi in this already slow traffic, nor did I want him sitting next to me for hours with his blinker threatening me. Luckily, his lane spend up, so he ended up sailing on past me. I breathed a sigh of relief until the vehicle behind him pulled up alongside of me... another semi with it's blinker on!!! What did I ever do to deserve such curses! I read my scriptures last night! I prayed last night and this morning! I paid my tithing! I was nice to my roommates! I killed no small animals! I didn't even kill any spiders! Then why oh why was I put under such torture!? [sigh] It was horrible. Really, it was. Luckily, there is a God and He loves me. The second semi sailed on past as well after a few moments. I didn't encounter either of them again.

Now, you see, these are very simple stories, easily forgotten, rarely told. (Well, perhaps not the semi story... but that was truly just frightening.) How often does someone come up to you and discuss the frost on their back window? Never. Well, unless you know me or someone like me. So next time you think you don't have any stories to tell, start paying more attention to the little details of life.

Mr. Perfect

If I could have my perfect man (which I know I can't) these are qualities he would have. Hopefully, my future love will have many, if not most of them.

- He would open my doors (but not when we're getting out of the car).
- He would hold me when I cry.
- He could tell when something was wrong and ask about it, even if I didn't want to talk about it.
- He would do dishes, just because he knows I hate it.
- He would talk about me to other people. Because he can't stop thinking about me.
- He would say really sweet things about me to other people. When he talked about me, girls everywhere would swoon and say, "I want my husband to be like that."
- Every once in awhile, for absolutely no good reason, he'd buy me a flower. A simple flower.
- He would love my mother.
- He would do things with my family. He would choose to do things with my family.
- He would love games. He would ask me if I wanted to play.
- He would watch chick flicks with me. And maybe even enjoy them.
- He would not drink caffeine.
- He would not watch rated-R movies.
- He would have high standards in music and media.
- He would not justify media. He would have higher standards than I do, so that he could pull me up. Because I would want to be better because he is.
- He would be an all-over nice guy. Like, the kind of guy that everyone loves.
- All of my friends would love him.
- He would never say mean-sarcastic things.
- There would never be anything that he would say that I would automatically feel like I he was degrading me.
- He would love me despite me.
- He and I could and would talk about everything... even the things that aren't pleasant to talk about.
- I would always know how he's feeling about everything. I would be able to look at him and know his emotions.
- He could do the same for me.
- He would know me so well that I could ask him questions about myself and he would know how to answer.
- He could, and would, cook.
- He would be friends with my friends. He would help me be friends with his friends.
- He would be someone I would want as a father for my children.
- He would tell me, often, that he loved me.
- He would cuddle with me.
- He would hold my hand in public.
- He would kiss me in public. (The swift, socially approved, kind of kiss)
- He would tell me he missed me when I was gone.
- He wouldn't want me to leave...even when I had to.
- He would fight dragons for me.
- He would never let my kids talk back to me.
- He would teach my sons to be gentlemen... by example.
- He would teach my daughters how they should expect to be treated... by example.
- He would have spiritual conversations with me.
- He would never make me feel stupid about not knowing things.
- He would be committed to me and only me. I would never have a doubt in my mind as to his feelings for me.
- We would be able to talk about former flames and learn from each other's pasts without jealousy.
- He would trust me.
- I would trust him.
- He would do cute things for me... just to let me know that he cared.
- He would love Harry Potter. He would be able to have intelligent conversation about them with me.
- He could fix my computer when it was broken.
- He would be responsible.
- He would be incredibly rich... from his own hard work. But no one would ever know it.
- He would let me be a secret philanthropist with his hard-earned money.
- He would be fashionable... but not obsessively so.
- He would not spend more time in the bathroom than I do.
- He would encourage me to be a stay-at-home mom.
- He would not begrudge me taking a part-time job if I decided I wanted to, when my kids were in school.
- He would not be controlling, yet he would make my decisions for me when I didn't want to. (Because he would know me well enough to know what I should decide.)
- He would have good taste for interior decorating... because I know I don't. But I still want a cute house.
- He would love shopping at IKEA with me.
- He would bring out the silly side of me... not just tolerate it when it pops up.
- He would encourage me to read.
- He would encourage me to take "me time."
- He would travel the world with me.
- He would help me complete my To Do Before I Die list.
- He would be worthy to be called as an apostle at any point. (Not that he has to become an apostle... but that he would be worthy of accepting such a call.)
- He would hold me to my standards.
- He would push me to be better. Not in a judging or condoning way, but in an encouraging, loving way.
- He would nurse me back to health when I was sick.
- He would sympathize with me through every headache, every black-out, every nauseous moment. I would never feel like he thought less of me because of them.
- He would make me get out and do outdoor things like hiking and playing in the park. But he wouldn't make me do it when I really didn't want to.
- He would have the ability to get me to do things that I outwardly claim I don't want to do, but secretly wish someone would talk me into doing.
- He would know the difference between those things and the things that I really, really don't want to do.
- He would like reading things I write that are 10-pages long.
- He wouldn't mind when I babble and ramble.
- He would be able to hug me on emotional days and make things all better.
- He would encourage me to cook. Often.
- He would even help me cook sometimes.
- He would play Super Mario 3 with me.
- It would not hurt his manly-pride if I beat him in competitions such as Super Mario 3, bowling, or any board or card games. He would still play with me, even if I beat him.
- He won't be impossible to live with when he beats me. (Beats me in terms of games... not as in physically beating.)
- He wouldn't physically beat me. :)
- He would surprise me with things. (Things can be objects, events, words, letters, parties, kisses, etc.)
- He would grab me and kiss me... for no good reason.
- He would share my cheesy sense of humor.
- He would call me pet names. And it would be fun. And feel natural.
- He would not be allergic to cats. And he would let me have one. An inside cat.
- He would be strong where I am weak.
- He would work with wood. And have a shop. So I could go out and smell the fresh sawdust. And he would make beautiful furniture for our house.
- He would be strong. I would be secretly giddy over his muscles.
- He would be a handyman and could fix anything broken in our house.
- He would know enough about cars to not need to take it to the shop for every little repair.
- He would be athletic enough that we could have athletic children. So that I can be a soccer mom.
- He would not expect me to be athletic.
- He would at least seriously consider the names I want to name my children.
- He would go to the temple with me.
- He would let me have a secret passage in our house that I could hide in and only he and I knew about.
- He would let me have a secret passage in our house that our kids could find and not know that we know about.
- He would humor me in my random wants in our future home... and be able to figure out how to make them work.
- He would make me happier than anything. I would be in eternal bliss just to think of him.
- He would love me more than anything. And no one would be able to doubt that. Ever.


This list can (and does) go on... but it's time to go home now.

The Dating Game, 5a

Humble Master was disappointed that his list of "Why Men Are Glad Not To Be Female" didn't make the original post. (He didn't see my question when I first asked him.) He had some pretty incredible reasons, so how could I not post them? These are his rambled off-the-cuff reasons:

- We can belch and it's ok.
- When we say, "Don't worry about it," we do not, in fact, secretly mean, "Keep thinking about this until word vomit bursts out of you."
- We can eat as much as we want, and then lose weight faster on accident than when girls try to lose weight.
- Our emotional rollercoasters involve pretty steady climbs and dips, not loop-to-loops by the minute.
- Our fashion understanding should not exceed knowing which article of clothing is the shirt, and which are the pants.
- Occasional mishaps in that area are forgiven.
- We don't care what other men look like, and certainly would never get upset because another man looks better than us.
- Our trickiest fashion choice when getting ready for church is which tie to wear.
- We don't have a voice in our heads telling us we're wasting our time when we play video games.
- We can take a statement at face value, that's right, we see no need to imagine 29 possible interpretations of the statement or causes for which it was said and then choose the worst one.
- Society doesn't make us paint our faces.

A new friend

The Sleepless Hoosier is perhaps one of my new favorite people. He went with us to IKEA on Saturday and happily spent 4 hours shopping. By the end, he still had enough energy to spin a cart just to make me happy. He also was the muscles of the group and helped us load my car, unload my car, and put up my new shelves in my kitchen.

Today he kidnapped Katria's computer and was chatting with me. If you can't tell by the number of posts on here, I'm having a very open and honest day. I have no qualms about sharing my opinion on anything today. He decided to take advantage of it and started asking my opinion on many various topics. I had much fun. I thought I'd share these random opinions with y'all:

TSH: So, what is your opinion on Clinton?

DL: Don't like him
TSH: And Mitt
DL: I like Mitt ... for no real reason. Just cuz I do
TSH: Hillary
DL: I don't like Hillary either.

TSH:What are your feelings about the ozone

DL: It's got holes, but I'm not gonna stop driving. Though, I'll probably take more care when I can.

TSH: Friends who date friends? ;)

DL: Do it. What good is meeting people and being friends when you can't date them? I think taboos are stupid. Though, it can lead to drama. So grow up and be mature. And have grown-up, mature friends

TSH: Soap cakes in urinals

DL: Excuse me? I have no opinions on urinals

TSH: Sadness

DL: Though, I do have a funny story

TSH: You always have funny stories

DL:We were camping for a family reunion. My dad's siblings. There was an outhouse. My dear, sweet, Aunt Cinnamon Roll went up to the outhouse and came back down. "That is the nicest outhouse I've ever been in! It even has a sink! You just have to bring your own water!" A few hours later, my mom went up there. She came back down, "Oh, Cinnamon Roll. I have to warn you. That's not a sink. That's a urinal. We can't let Choo Choo (really funny uncle) go up there. Aunt Donna went white. They looked up the hill, Uncle Choo Choo was coming down from the outhouse... "Oh Cinnamon Roll! That is just the cutest little sink! I even brought my own water!"

TSH: Oooooooo. That is awful. Whew. Well, how about...Big city living vs. smaller more bucolic towns
DL: Depends on my mood. Though, I think I'd rather live in a small town near a big city

TSH: Mmm. Agreed. I think. I've never really lived in a big city though... not really.

DL: This is the biggest city I've lived in. Well, besides Jerusalem, of course.
TSH: Right. Rock climbing opinions?
DL: So scary. Must go with someone who will be really patient with me. And not make fun of me, or even be annoyed at me, if I can't finish a wall. Someone I can really trust. And someone who will spend months talking me into it.

TSH: MFHD majors?
DL: I was once one
TSH: And?
DL: I think it's a wonderful major for someone going on to counseling or just wanting to learn more to become a better person... to be a better parent.

TSH: What about Asians who scuff around the BNSN holding top ramen cups?

DL: I spend little to no time in the BNSN. So... no opinion

TSH: (I think they are silly. One just scuffed by) Pop star sunglasses?

DL: From what I can recall from the checkout stand, they're too big. But I don't really follow Pop stars, either.

TSH: Historical Fiction?

DL: Love, love, love it. Though, must be read with caution. I think it's a great way to get people interested in certain historical events (that's how I got involved in the Ancient Near East major). But you must be careful that you don't believe the fiction part to be historical.

TSH: Yeah, I agree with the disclaimer on Historical fiction. Like The DaVinci Code. Yeah. Nuff said.

DL: Oh seriously. Can I just say one thing about the DaVinci code?

TSH: Ohhh okay. You may.

DL: The Dead Sea Scrolls say nothing about Jesus!!!!!!! The end.

TSH: Heh. never read them

DL: Well, if you ever do, keep that in mind

TSH: The European Union?

DL: No idea what the European Union is. Oh wait... changing to Euros?

TSH: No

DL: Then no idea

TSH: Wikipedia.org--my hero

DL: love Wikipedia. But right now is about current opinions. Not doing research to form opinions

TSH: Tucked-in t-shirts?

DL: Tucked in anything that isn't a sunday shirt on a guy.... ick

And then Katria needed her computer back. Thank you, The Sleepless Hoosier... for making my last few days so much fun.

Musings, 1

I think Pandora should have more of an option than "I like it" and "I don't like it." For example, "From My Front Porch Looking In" by Lonestar just came on. It's one of my all time favorite songs. I wish it would play more often. So, instead of just a Thumbs up where it will be sure to play it again... someday... I want a 5-stars, This Is the Greatest Song Ever, kind of option.

This reminds me, if I mark something as 5-stars in iTunes, will it play more often when put on random? Because it seems to me like I rarely hear my 5-stars in a random shuffle. But other songs that are more like 3 stars I hear all the time. Why do some songs get played all the time? Is it based on what was played most recently? Least "Number of Times Played"?

The Dating Game, 5

Dear bismark ~

Our conversation today inspired this post. Even though you weren't complaining about the stuff I'm griping about.

~ Dragon Lady

I often hear guys comment on how glad they are that they are not girls. In fact, after being married for awhile, Brother Sr. once told my mom, "Mom, thank you for getting my plumbing right." (She did set him straight that it was Dad that got his plumbing right... but no matter.) I mean, girls have their periods (I will forever love my male cousin who was adamant that girls are stronger than boys, "There's no way I could bleed that much once a month and still function properly!"), we have PMS, we're emotional, we can't make up our minds, we have to spend an hour showering and doing our hair, we have to deal with dresses, nylons and makeup. We have to shave our legs and armpits. We have to look pretty all the time. Estrogen. Child birth!!! We can't do anything alone (i.e., camping, walking in the dark, stopping to help someone who is broken down on the side of the road). How often do I hear guys shout praises to the heavens that they are not female.

Well guys, if life is so great as a male, then you shouldn't complain so much for having one responsibility that girls don't have. Why must guys complain that they're always the one to ask out on dates, the ones to make phone calls, the ones to plan dates? I think it's more than fair that you guys get that in exchange for all the things that make you so grateful to be male. Seriously, if being female is so awful, I think we should at least get the consolation that we don't have to ask/plan dates, nor call boys if we don't want to.

Murphey's Law

This morning I decided my nylons had lost too much elasticity... they would bunch up around my ankles during the day. Thus, I decided, it was time to pull out a new pair.

I got out of my car when I got to work and promptly slipped on a patch of black ice. My skirt and nylons now have black spots all up my right leg.

Miraculously, although my knee is now all torn up, my nylons have suffered no lasting damage. But, of course, it still had to happen to a brand new pair of nylons.

The Dating Game, 4

In the CES Fireside last night, Elder Tingey commissioned guys everywhere to take the responsibility to ask girls on dates.

Amen and amen. Bless you, Elder Tingey.

Jane Austen, 1

PBS is airing The Complete Jane Austen. Last night was the first--Persuasion. (This version.) The only things I knew about this book was that I own it (I own the entire Jane Austen collection), have never read it, and everything they say in The Lakehouse. I had been wanting to read it, but it wasn't high on my priority list, so I was rather excited to watch it last night. Two people fall in love, the love is forbidden by her father, the two part. 8 years later, the story begins when he re-enters her life. Will they get back together? Will he ever forgive her for succumbing to her father's will? Will he marry another girl out of honor? Will she fall in love with another? I spent half of the movie anxiously moving around, gasping and groaning. Oh, and may I mention that Rupert Penry-Jones, the man who plays Captain Wentworth, is very attractive?

The movie was only an hour and a half. It felt far too short. It's very clear that there is so much more to the story. It's now next on my list to read, once I finish Myst: The Book of D'ni. Actually, the entire Jane Austin Collection and Jane Eyre are up once I finish Myst.

I'm sure the entire experience would have been much more pleasurable had I not had an excruciating headache the entire time. Sometimes I wonder what a migraine feels like... because I'm sure last night was really close to one. Food, water, shower, ibuprophen, neck rubs, Spice Traders Oil... nothing really helped. They all provided some relief, but only a good night's rest was able to relieve the pain.

All in all, I loved the movie. I would definitely watch it again.

The Dating Game, 3

I wrote a Board answer today talking about 4 of my favorite dates and why. I'd link you to it, but it won't post for 78 more hours. Perhaps if someone reminds me after that... It was good for me. It reminded me of really good dating experiences in my past. It reminded me that things really can be fun and exciting. It made me want to go on one of those dates again... just to remember those thrills and emotions. I'm a little less nervous now. But only a bit.

The Dating Game, 2

Dating is exhausting. Emotionally draining. To go on a simple date, there is much planning. There is disagreement on what would be a good date (something outside in the freezing cold? "isn't that why you go out in the cold with a date so that he can warm you up" or perhaps aerobics? "nothing strenghtens a romance like being in perfect step with each other throughout an entire aerobic workout video" ... commentary courtesy of Sister). There's the uncertainty of what the other person thinks. The period of time between first date and blissful courtship is awkward. It can be fun, don't get me wrong, but it's also tiring. I'd forgotten about that... it's been a long time since I've been there. (For which I am grateful.)

I was going to end this asking if I have the energy for this.... but then I realized that I'm simply incredibly tired and should just go to bed. Perhaps once I catch up on sleep, I'll be more enthusiastic about, once more, entering the dating game as a full-fledged player. For now I'm debating on if I shouldn't just stay on the sidelines for just a bit longer. Unless, of course, there is some handsome prince on a white steed that is willing to drag me out and fight battles for me. In that case, bring it on.

Infiltration into my mind

Yesterday I was driving home from work, listening to my music. Hanging by a Moment by Lifehouse came on (which will always remind me of Jolly Green Giant, but that's utterly beside the point). I started tapping my foot to the beat and quickly noticed that I was tapping my foot at the same speed that the yellow dashed lines were passing me on the road. Just then, the lane turned to one dashed and one solid. Suddenly I was playing Guitar Hero to the tune of Hanging by a Moment. I only had two notes, but they'd switch from short notes to long stretches. Sometimes both of them, sometimes one or the other. It fit the song amazingly well.

Curse you, Yellow.

Accomplished

I did it!

Y'all should be proud.

The Dating Game, 1

Boy: "We should do something sometime."

Girl: "Sure!"

Boy: "I'll call you sometime next week and we can set something up.  Or you can call me."

Girl: "Umm.. ok."

Almost two weeks later, Boy has not called Girl.  Should she...

a) Give up on Boy and move on with life.

b) Be stubborn and wait for him to call.

c) Give in and call Boy.

Let it be known that Girl hates calling boys.

Would you stop leaving your clothes at my house?

Found

1 pair of boy's socks--white with grey toes and heels. 

Found under the coffee table at my house.

Reward

1 pair of boy's socks

Life would be so much easier if I didn't have morals.

I went to the ATM today to deposit some checks. I waited patiently for the red suburban in front of me to finish his transaction. He left, I pulled up to the ATM—a perfect distance away. Pleased with myself, I rolled down my window to find the ATM beeping at me. Unsure why, I started looking around to see if, perhaps, there was a bomb attached. Nope, no bomb. Instead, it was screaming at me, telling me to take the $200 cash sitting in in. Assuming it belonged to the red suburban who was still trying to turn left onto 9th East, I pulled forward, ready to jump out of my car and run up to him. Just as I unlocked my door, he pulled out onto the street. I backed back into the ATM all crooked, about to crash into the brick pillar, just far enough away that I had to open my door and squeeze out to get an envelope, then turn at an awkward angle to get everything in. That's what I get for trying to give this guy his money. I put the money in an envelope, planning on returning it to the bank on Monday, since I assume they keep records of who withdrew money at what time and can get the money back to Mr. Red Suburban.

I'm just glad my momma taught me good values so that I'm not actually tempted to keep it.

Books, Tools, and Diving

I was reading the Isaiah chapters in 2 Nephi last night before bed. I read the first part of the chapter, all about a vineyard and olive tree and followed the story with understanding. Then the chapter transitioned into Woe to Israel, and I followed that part of the chapter with understanding. But as I read the Woe to Israel, I stopped and thought, y'know, I know that Isaiah just told me that the interpretation to the first part of the chapter is the second part of the chapter, and if I really want a good understanding of what he's talking about, I should re-read the first part with the knowledge gained from the second part.

Suddenly it hit me that that is yet another way in which we are accountable for the knowledge God has given us. Especially books like Isaiah. God has given us the text and the tools to understand it. Do we just read the text? Or do we take the time and put forth the effort to use the tools to understand it? Perhaps I should stop trying to read one chapter at night. Because when I do that, I just want to read the chapter so I can go to sleep. I don't have the energy to delve in more. I need to delve.

Wrinkle Day #1

2008 is a leap year. I learned today that that means it is allowed for girls to chase guys this year. I found this intriguing and against all of my better judgment. We'll see if I actually do anything with this newly found knowledge.

Hey, my visiting teacher's mother said it... it must be true.