Bicentennial.

This commemorates 200 posts on this blog.

*throws confetti*

Thanks for reading.

Language.

WHO VOTED NAVAJO!?

I actually decided not to take on another language. None of them fit quite right into my schedule, and what I planned for the semester feels like a good load. Thanks for your votes, even you Navajo people...The tally of the vote 1 -Russian, 3- German, 3- French, 0- You're nuts (Surprising) and 2- Navajo.

In case you are wondering, I am filling the extra credit room with ballroom dancing.

Responding to an Invitation

It has been the habit of mine in recent years to organize social gatherings. Aka, parties. It is also a habit of mine to organize other things that involve other people than just myself, such as carpools. There has not been a party that I have organized that I have not had to squeeze an RSVP from. Honestly! How difficult is it to respond to an invitation. Someone has taken the time and money and effort to extend a request for your company, (aka, they like you as a person) how difficult is it to say "yes" or "no" or "I'll get back to you as soon as I know."

I am told this is a "Utah epidemic". Is it because we feel we can show up either way, whatever suits our personal taste for the evening? Is commitment all that difficult? Surely there is forgiveness if in an extreme circumstance you must cancel. If you say "maybe" or neglect to respond at all, it is like a slap in the face to the host saying "I'll consider your invitation if I don't have any thing better to do."

On a kind note: If you receive an invitation of any kind, respond please, out of consideration for the extendee.

and your head.

Where am I?

Five years ago, this was my life plan:

• Avoid the University of Utah at all costs. Preferrably attend UVSC for a Film degree and pursue screenwriting and directing.
• Though currently involved in a choir in the High School I attended, I didn't plan to pursue it any further after graduation
• By age 20/21 I expected to be married, or at least not living at home.
• I was rather shy and didn't make friends all that easy, and expected to stick close to my High School friends.

Today:

• I attend the University of Utah, majoring in Classics - emphasis in Ancient Greek, minor in Classical Civilization, possible a minor in Linguistics.
• I have been in an Institute Choir for 8 consecutive semesters, including summers since Fall 2006.
• I am single. I live at home.
• I have contact with two high school friends, one on a semi-regular basis, the other I rarely see. It seems at times I have too many friends. (ha! never)

My favorite thing to say about how I have changed is "In Junior High and High School, people called me the serious one." People usually laugh when they hear that.

In short, I have decided not to expect things to happen, or set plans in stone. As I have learned, it apparently doesn't happen that way.

Commitment

A mentor of mine recently brought up a point about commitment. The thought has been stewing in my mind for several days and one thought was "Isn't making a commitment that you don't actually keep, dishonest? Is there much difference between a lie and an un-kept promise?" It seems to be the trend in my realms of organizations, that many people will commit to attending an activity, or say that will help out in some way, but they ultimately do not show up and rarely even give an excuse as to their absence. I think that many times people rely on the forgiving nature of those around them. "Better to ask for forgiveness than permission." It is almost better to not to commit in the first place, because people will begin to not trust your word, as much as if you had lied to them. Once you make a commitment: to be somewhere on time, bring something to contribute to an activity, do it. If you know you can't, or don't want to, don't say you will.

What the heck am I doing?

Getting Ready:
This morning began at 5:45am when I hit my snooze button and went back to sleep. Again I woke at 6:05am and decided I better get up. After a shower, the ordeal began. Curling my hair, with my mother's help, took about 45 minutes. I felt a little like Shirley Temple, but I knew the curls would calm down as the day progressed. Out the door at 7:25am with my large load of anything I could possible need for the day, I made my way towards the LDS Conference Center. I passed Sugarhouse Park, and saw some marathon runners and thought of someone I knew who was racing, hoping she was doing well and remembering when my brother-in-law Jon ran the race the year before. Signs read "Turn your radio to AM1300 for race information" which I tried, but all I could hear was the magnetic waves from Jupiter (radio fuzz). Not helpful. Off the freeway and moving towards South Temple, I ran into a slight problem. The marathon runners were running right down S. Temple, the street I need to cross to get to the Conference Center. And NO traffic was let through. "I just want to cross the street, I have less than 10 minutes to get to my interview!" Nothing doing, of course. I made my way south down Main Street (the opposite direction than I wanted) and felt a slight sense of panic. I called Mom and said "HALP!" and she suggested calling. I dialed the number on the packet I was given, and got the DUP museum answering machine "The museum is now closed." Yeah, thanks. My next attempt was a friend who was lending help to this whole experience, and while she searched for a number, I found a cop and he said "600 W to North Temple." Phew! I made it to the Conference Center by the time the girl found a phone number.

The Morning:
I was only about 5 minutes late for the interview, and explained my situation, but still felt it was a bad impression to be late. The interview went fairly well, I felt reasonably relaxed and did my best to give intelligent answers to their questions "Are you currently reading a book?" "Yes, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" (I think I got odd looks from that answer) "Why offer another New Testament translation to all that already exist?" "To offer a broad perspective on all the meanings and nuances of the words" "If you could pick anyone to be your running mate for President of the United States, who would it be?" *pause* The first thought was "Jim". Come on, pick someone famous. . . Nothing. . . Fine, I can't sit here forever. "My friend Jim, he is unbiased and willing to discuss issues to come to the best conclusion for everyone." After they dismissed me (a very short interview) I went to the cafeteria to get some breakfast (banana and muffin). A few girls were already seated, no one familiar. I sat down and loe and behold, people talked to me! And were friendly! As one who sucks at remembering names, I promptly forgot everyone I was introduced to, but did my best to still be friendly. 9:30am we moved to the stage to run through formations and positions. We had all been distributed a number to be identified by, instead of names. Lucky number 36 baby! Filing on and off stage, standing straight, smiling. After we learned where to stand for each of the sessions of competition, we went to grab lunch ( much of it was oddly frozen) and primp for the 2pm show.

Afternoon show:
1:50pm, we meet backstage, and line up for our first walk-on. Standing just behind the curtain, it suddenly hit me. "WHAT the HECK am I doing?! I'm going to walk on stage, people staring at me. WHY am I doing this?" My mother observed that I was smiling rather big when I first the entered stage. This was due to my trying to supress an outright laughing fit. I found my place to stand and was still thinking "This is rediculous." Filing off again, we waited backstage for our groups turn to again stand on stage and answer a question. We were escorted (4 volunteer young men) from the rear, and called one by one. I walked to center stage, smile, pause, smile, pivot, turn, smile, pause, walk to microphone and smile. "I feel like an idiot" I thought. The question was "What is the Head, Heart and Hands award that you recieved in 2006, and why did you receive it?" I explained what the award was and why I received it, and left stage. Wahoo, part one complete. We once again walked on stage, stood and smiled (by this time my face was like "If you keep grinning with, you are going to look like a bigger idiot with a plastered smile", so my smile was mouth shut). The curtains closed and we left stage to dawn our evening wear.

Late Afternoon:
After primping for the evening show, all of the contestants paraded from the LDS Conference Center to the Joseph Smith Jr. Memorial Bldg. No one noticed anything out of the ordinary, we were basically invisible. . . WRONG! I haven't decided how I feel about strangers taking photos of me in a formal gown. All eyes were on us, and lots of people said "What's going on?" We explained "We're in the royalty pageant for Days of '47." The dinner was excellent! Salad with candied pecans, feta on spinach and a raspberry vinagret. Spinach stuffed chicken, rice and veggies. Chocolate mousee pie (the crust was the best part). I found another girl wearing the same dress as I was, though her's was purple, mine black and I added a shrug. Returning to the Conference Center, one girl and I absorbed the magnificent sun, birds singing, sweet flowers blooming. We made a few last minute touch-ups and filed on stage for the 6pm show.

Evening Show:
By this time I was near wearing off the shock of what exactly I was doing. We started on stage this time, and when the curtain rose, we sang the first verse of "America the Beautiful". We left stage to again file on in small groups, this time to give a 40 second speech on the theme "Catch the Vision." After being escorted on stage, standing and again called by number, I made my way to center stage, smile, pause, circle around the 'x' in front, then in back, and (smiling) sweep to the microphone. I had been thinking about what to say for a week. I had a good idea of the kinds of things I wanted to say. When I got to the microphone, I started speaking and thought it was going alright. I paused. . . and nothing else came. Great. Just great. I don't remember how it ended, I just know it was . . . yeah. I said "thank you" and walked back to my position. The next girl joined me after her speech and I said through gritted teeth "We're done!" and for some reason we both started laughing. It was effective for a larger smile at least. We left stage, waited for the rest to finish their speeches, and again filed on stage. A man came out and sang to us, a song that was something along the lines of "You are beautiful...blah blah." Again I struggled not to crack up. I was thoroughly enjoying myself throughout the day out of sheer shock and amazement that I was parading on stage. The top ten were chosen and the rest of us joined the audience to watch them answer two additional questions. I didn't know the trio royalty well, but was happy with the results.

Post-Show:
My family was kind enough to support me and compliment me on my performance, though my speaking skills could use improvement. My neice had apparently loved all the pretty girls in sparkly dresses. A friend also came. Support meant beyond what I can say. I turned in my number and was given a large gift bag with awesome presents in it. Heck, I'll dress up and parade in a formal for a gift certificate to La Caille, The Sports Mall, a picnic blanket, lotion, jewelry, a cook-book and book by Sheri Dew.

Thoughts:
The day was vastly different than I expected. Girls were friendly, and bonds were forged. All of us were on our own, so everyone was willing to help each other out. With a little help from Pepto-Bismal, the nerves were bearable. Though my speech was short, odd and possibley coherent, I enjoyed every moment of the day. A pageant has NEVER been in my life's plans, so all of it was new. I felt foolish, yet lucky to be there and just have a good time. All the girls are talented and confident, most friendly and good-natured. It was an excuse to buy a new dress that I am eager to have an excuse to wear again.

Whodda thunk I would enter and survive a pageant? *throws arms in the air*

Grandma says "Better luck next year."

And that just may be true.

My God, My Portion and My Love

My God, my portion, and my love,
My everlasting all!
I’ve none but Thee in Heav’n above,
Or on this earthly ball.

What empty things are all the skies,
And this inferior clod!
There’s nothing here deserves my joys,
There’s nothing like my God.

In vain the bright, the burning sun
Scatters his feeble light;
’Tis Thy sweet beams create my noon;
If Thou withdraw, ’tis night.

Let all that dwell above the sky,
And heav'n and earth and seas,
Conspire to lift Thy glories high
And speak Thy endless praise.

Muscially inclined?

C, E-flat and G go into a bar. The bartender says, "sorry,but we don't serve minors." So E-flat leaves, and C and G have an open fifth between them. After a few drinks, the fifth is diminished and G is out flat. F comes in and tries to augment the situation, but is not sharp enough.
D comes in and heads for the bathroom saying, "Excuse me. I'll just be a second." Then A comes in, but the bartender is not convinced that this relative of C is not a minor. Then the bartender notices B-flat hiding at the end of the bar and says, "Get out! You're the seventh minor I've found in this bar tonight."
E-Flat comes back the next night in a three-piece suit with nicely shined shoes. The bartender says, "you're looking sharp tonight. Come on in, this could be a majordevelopment." Sure enough, E-flat soon takes off his suit and everything else, and is au natural.
Eventually C sobers up and realizes in horror that he's under a rest. C is brought to trial, found guilty of contributing to the diminution of a minor, and is sentenceto 10 years of D.S. without Coda at an upscale correctional facility.

--Author unknown

Shopping, specifically regarding formal dress.

First of all, let's make it clear that I don't really enjoy shopping for clothing. Pants are the bane of my existence. I came into a situation that required me to wear a formal gown - Something I was not prepared for. I set aside a day to accomplish the task, and set the searching to begin early in the morning (reasonably for a Saturday). The search began at 10:45am. We went home at 5pm, empty handed. I sent out a plea for help, which brought few results, and none that were appropriate for the occasion. Monday I searched 4 more stores and added 3 hours to the 6 that were spent on Saturday. Again, I went home empty handed. Tuesday my search took me many miles away, driving efforts granted, you guessed it, unsuccessful. One more store to try...yeah right. I remembered a dress that I had tried on Saturday. Returning to that store I picked up the dress, tried it on, added a shrug and BINGO! 11 hours and at least 20 dresses later... What would have helped this process would have been to cut out all the: skirts that are meant to be worn as a dress, strapless, "where's the dress" on a hanger, that's a little see-through, would you like my first born child in exchange?, I'm not a mermaid thanks, dresses.

It's Easter! andlotsofotherthings that make life AWESOME.

Easter is a day that blows me out of the water. The Spirit that accompanies the day is very poignant. Church meetings are full Christ centered discussions, testimonies and music. You know the feeling when you walk into a room full of good people who carry the Holy Spirit with them? I think on Easter Sunday, the world is a little better place because so many minds are turned towards Christ: The feeling in the air changes, even for a few short moments.

Not to mention the food for Easter feasts are fantastic.

My Easter basket brought an array of goodies, the most entertaining of which is a set of three razors, with tropical scented handles.

Long conversations with a good friend about everything and nothing.

Waking up to the sun after a day filled with all that (see above), walking outside to crisp, clean air, warm and a glorious sun rising.

There is little that can top a song that is well structured with a distinct and flowing melody, deep foundation, profound lyrics (though not a requirement, the song may be purely instrumental). - See also "Wayfaring Stranger", "My Journey Home", "The Road Home", "Stars and the Moon".

Lastly, but not least - Getting over a miserable illness, having much responsibility on one's shoulders but know that all will work out, and that the day is gorgeous and life is just freaking awesome.

Bent.

Forgive me for forgetting who referenced this quote, but I believe they were quoting President Thomas S. Monson of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, who said (not a direct quote)

"The Lord shapes the back to fit the burden."

Twitch.

My left thumb has been twitching for at least 4 hours now. What the heck thumb?!

For one single moment my eyes are held captive. The light passes quickly and is forever gone, yet it's image is burned into memory, to be recalled as a special moment. Each night so many stars make their appearance in the deep blue sky, yet this is the one I remember. The streak and flash of a rare shooting star is sacred and protected. Some days the sky is covered from below and little, or nothing of the midnight beauty is left to be seen.

This could be a metaphor for so many things, for love, for friendship, happy days, life experience. Which ever you relate it to, remember your shooting stars. When the sky is clouded o'er, know the heavens still shine and will be seen again.

Priesthood Power.

Four days of coughing, chills, stuffed nose. Along with a physical ailment, brain capacity had been reduced to a 5 to 10 second attention span. Enough, thank you.

Not even a phone call, but a text away was a home teacher who jumped at the request for a blessing, and a neighbor who came within 5 minutes of notice. I am grateful for the association of worthy priesthood holders that have no need to hesitate to ponder if they are capable of being tools in the hands of the Lord.

My health was not completely renewed on the spot, but I was blessed with the energy and brain power to get through all life calls.