"Bee" Open

Life is too short to not try new things. Especially things that maybe we've never been open to in the past. For me, this involves sports. Most of you who know me well know how I feel about organized team sports. Lame. Boring. Pointless. 

But lately I've decided that attitude sucks. Sure, just because I'm not an athlete, doesn't mean that I can't give those who are a chance. Maybe I'd even like it.

So I went to my first Bees game tonight. And you know what? It was really fun. Part of the fun was that we got the royal treatment. We had a suite filled with yummy food and drinks. The seats were great, inside and out. 

But most of the fun was talking with the people around us and cheering for the Bees when they did something well (which was not often, unfortunately. They lost to the Nashville Sounds by a landslide). It was just fun to be part of the crowd, singing "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" at the top of our lungs. (Interesting side note: We looked two suites down from us and saw President Monson and his wife also cheering the Bees. This confirmed my theory that it's okay to do fun things on Monday nights for FHE).

So I was reminded that it's important to "bee" open to new things in life. (Of course, within reason-- I'm not suggesting anyone turn their home into a meth lab). I just think we miss out on a lot when we refuse to look beyond our established interests and hobbies. 

Sure, I like to read. But tonight I discovered I like baseball, too.

A Long Overdue Update

I know. It’s been a long time since I last wrote. Probably you have given up on even checking my blog (except you, mom) and I can’t blame you. The past several weeks have been a whirlwind of trips, birthdays, moving, sickness, and the usual summer mayhem.

I don’t really know where to begin so I think I will just highlight what’s been happening.

Oregon

In the middle of July, just when the heat of our lovely semi-desert was becoming unbearable, our family loaded up the car for a beach vacation on the Oregon coast. It took a million hours to get there, but luckily no one cried, threw up, wet his/her pants, or yelled the whole way there. In fact, we were all pretty good. Things only got a little tense when we were looking for Interstate 20 and got lost because Oregon does not believe in clear road signs.

Highlights of the trip include discovering Rainer cherries (yum!), spending a week in a beachside condo, walking along the ocean, visiting the Newport Aquarium, whale watching (we saw two), Tillamook cheese and ice cream (best chocolate peanut butter ice cream I’ve ever had), beautiful scenery, a trip to see Harry Potter when it was foggy, playing games, eating crème brulee with Maren and Camille at a fancy little local restaurant, listening to the ocean, and visiting Cape Perpetua, which is a spectacular peak that overlooks ocean and forest.

I really love the ocean. This is probably because we do not have one in Utah (although some people here think that will change if California legalizes gay marriage). Anyway, all in all, the trip was a blast and I’m glad I got to spend a whole week wreaking havoc in a different state with the four people in the world I love best.

Las Vegas

Just three days after returning from the cool Oregon coast, it was time to head to sizzling Las Vegas for a birthday weekend. I was a Vegas virgin (and I still am a virgin, by the way—just not a Vegas one), but I went with my good friend who had been a few times before, so she knew what she was doing.

I wasn’t really prepared for Las Vegas. For some reason, I thought the Strip was MUCH smaller than it actually is. This means I brought all the wrong clothes and definitely the wrong shoes. I’m pretty sure I was the only person in Nevada wearing long pants. Yes, I was uncomfortable, thank you very much.

But we had a great time. Highlights include walking the Strip (which included being dazzled by the glitz and glamour), visiting the dolphin and tiger habitat at the Mirage, sharing a frozen hot chocolate from Serendipity 3, winning $2.25 at the slot machines, driving to Primm to ride this giant roller coaster, attending the Tournament of Kings dinner show at the Excalibur, visiting a really neat Titanic exhibit (no, Leonardo was not there, the locket was not there, and Celine Dion did not sing), watching my friend ride the rides at the top of the Stratosphere because I’m a chicken, walking down Fremont Street, enjoying excellent conversation, and sleeping really well because our hotel room stayed dark in the mornings.

I do not love the desert. Probably because we do have one of those in Utah. But I enjoyed my visit to Sin City and I thank my friend who abandoned her baby to come play with me for the weekend.

This blog post has run on too long as it is so I will just briefly mention that I had a lovely birthday thanks to family and friends. Fast forward to last week, moving week. Unfortunately, I started feeling unwell on Wednesday, but these guys in my new ward had a truck that could move my bed on Thursday, so I had to just do it. On Thursday I had a nasty fever and a stomach ache, but thanks to some truly celestial people, I got moved. I got to know my new place really well over the weekend since a terrible virus declared war on my body and I spent the next few days sick, sick, sick. I should give a shout out to my new housemates for supplying lots of Sprite and patience. You know who you are! Thanks!

Anyway, there are the past few weeks in a nutshell. I’m going to go take a nap now because all this typing made me tired.

Blogstalking and Soap Operas

I have a confession. I am a blogstalker. True story. I LOVE to read people's blogs, even if I haven't spoken to them in ten years. Lately, while I'm busy not dating or training for a marathon or finding a cure for cancer, I peruse blogs.

Recently (as in three months ago) I found a blog list for my high school class. So as I've been following and reading my former classmates' blogs, I have come to an interesting realization: blogstalking is a lot like watching soap operas. 

I remember when I was younger (as in somewhere between the ages of 5 and 15), I learned that we don't watch soap operas because they're addictive and they distort our perception of reality and they make us want things we can't have like handsome men and fancy cars. I'm not sure who said this-- it could have been a teacher, a parent, a church leader, or something I'm completely making up right now. In any case, I remember soap operas being a "no-no." (Note: this has not stopped me from indulging in guilty pleasures like Beverly Hills 90210, Grey's Anatomy, and The Hills.)

Blogstalking is no different than obsessively watching The O.C. or Days of Our Lives (by the way, whatever did happen with Bo and Hope?)

Many of my former classmates are now married with children. They make cutesy blogs that look like digital scrapbooks and frequently post pictures of their children, who usually have blond hair, trendy names like "Kyler" and "Braxley", and disturbingly high IQs, which are miraculously manifested at the age of two.  A nauseatingly cutesy sign declaring "We are a happy family" can literally be found on one of them (yes, I threw up a little in my mouth when I saw it), but they all say it one way or another. Fulfillment has been found in family and friends. 

Those that aren't married live another kind of life. They have recently climbed Mount Everest (with pictures to show) and now they are building orphanages in Africa. Or they are living in New York City and spending their evenings sipping wine and engaging in intellectual banter with artists and writers and scientists. The world is their open book and they aren't afraid to scribble their names all over it.

Then there is me. 

I turn 27 next month and my blog does not fit either category (which is one of the reasons I refuse to add it to my high school list). I read these blogs, and think to myself, in my 26 years of life what have I accomplished? ABSOLUTELY NOTHING! I have not written a book or produced a documentary about the prevalence of AIDS in South America. I don't have the doting husband or the adorable kids (it's probably for the better-- my kids would most likely look like trolls anyway). Basically, even though I'm a normal job-holding, taxpaying citizen, I'm a menace to society because I have no idea how to French braid, I'd rather die than climb Mount Everest, and I learned the definition of "mens rea" from Legally Blonde. 

In other, more concise words, blogstalking is akin to torture. And yet I keep going back for more. 

See. They're addictive, they distort my perception of reality, and they make me want things I can't have.

Just like soap operas.

But I like them anyway.

Determined to be Happy

Last night I attended the Saturday night session of Stake Conference. I was scandalous because I was wearing pants (nice black ones mind you, not jeans) since I had been at the U's library for a few hours and didn't bring a skirt to change into before walking over to the Institute building. I thought about going home to change, but traffic and parking was horrible since there was an event at the U and so I just decided to go the way I was so I wouldn't miss any of it.

This session didn't disappoint. I was worried when the first two speakers were a newlywed couple who had been assigned to speak on marriage. Trust me, the last thing singles want to hear is a cheesy couple gushing over the wonders of marriage and how you should try it too, especially because it's required for exaltation. We already KNOW that. I don't think there is a single single (ha ha) who doesn't get that the Church emphasizes celestial marriage. 

But you know what? The talks were good. They were both older and had been in singles wards for a long time and knew what it felt like to do the righteous thing and come to Saturday conference and then leave feeling like a failure because they are STILL burdening the kingdom with their singleness. So they didn't focus on that. Instead they shared their personal experiences along the way and some things they had learned. Rather than being depressing, their talks were inspiring.

But the highlight of the evening for me was my stake president's talk. I have been in this stake for a while and every talk he's given has been great. I really like him. But this talk,"Determined to be Happy" was was especially poignant. He didn't share any magic formulas for how to be happy; instead he focused on how we need to diligently and obstinately make right decisions and apply the Atonement. Confession: diligence is not my strong point. It's something I definitely need to pray for and strive for (diligently, ha!) because in the end it's what separates the wheat from the tares, the happy from the unhappy.

President D. also shared a special message from President Monson that was for our stake particularly. The prophet said two things that struck me. First, he talked about how we need to make the choice of whether our standards will be low or high. Second, we need to be joyful that we get to be on the earth now. I realized that I need to improve in both of these areas.

I won't bore you with further details, but I'll just say that President D. told us that God wants us to be happy, that as we get our lives in order, He will pour out His blessings upon us, yes, even including the miracle of marriage. He will help us determine our own happiness if we let Him. 

I thought about it the rest of the evening and I realized that too often I place my happiness in something else. A great career, an educated, sharp mind, a thin, healthy body, stylish clothes and other material comforts; all of these are good things and certainly worth working toward but these are things I sometimes think will determine my happiness when really I'm missing the mark. These things may come or not, but it is only as I seek to know and follow God's will for me that will determine my happiness, regardless of my external circumstances.

I'm glad I showed up to Saturday night Stake Conference in my pants. I came away determined to make the changes I need to in order to determine my own happiness.

Can Phantom Leave No Traces? I Hope So!

There is good theatre, there is mediocre theatre, and there is bad theatre.  On Wednesday night, I experienced bad theater. Actually, to be fair, it wasn’t the production itself; the acting was decent, the set was good, the singing was great. But the material left a lot to be desired. And some of the important characters were miscast.

A friend from work had free tickets to Hale Center Theatre’s production of Phantom and so she invited a few of us from work to go. For those who don’t know, Phantom is basically the story of Phantom of the Opera, except with boring music and terrible writing. Okay, so it really can’t even be compared to Phantom of the Opera.

It was painful.

I knew it was going to be a struggle when the first three songs all sounded the same.  Oh, the actors could sing, but none of the music was memorable, except for some annoying “fa la la las” and a meaningful ditty that included shrill repetitions of “melody, melody, melody.” While this song played, I closed my eyes and prayed for the “melody” to stop. It didn’t.

But it wasn’t until the Phantom came out that the play became laughable. With the dark organ music playing (milk chocolate compared to Andrew Lloyd Webber’s bittersweet dark chocolate version), I expected the Phantom to fit the part of the mysterious and dark tortured soul clad in black. Instead, out pops a short, slightly chubby blond in a white peasant shirt and black pants.  He looked like Seminary Phantom, or Casper the Friendly Phantom. And even when he did get angry at the characters, I half expected him to suggest that they all discuss their issues over milk and cookies.

They even named him. Erik. When I think of the name Erik (spelled with a k), I think of burley Vikings conquering territories, not some prissy guy wearing a mask over half of his face inviting beautiful young women on picnics (yes, the Phantom takes Christine on a picnic and sings about the trees. It was charming).

And the guy who plays Christine’s lover looked like he’d just gotten home from his mission the night before. There was nothing debonair about him. In fact, the whole production looked like BYU Phantom of the Opera.  And it wasn’t pretty.

The lines were laughable. At one point, Christine’s missionary-esque lover tries to woo her with a night out in Paris. He brings champagne and asks her if she likes it. When she says yes, he says, “Well maybe I shouldn’t give you any.” Of course, she asks “Why not?” to which he replies, “How can you give champagne to champagne?” Wow. What a line. How can she choose between he and the Phantom? Suddenly I understood her tough choice.

The director’s commentary in the program explained why he thinks Phantom is the greatest musical ever. I would share his exact words with you, but unfortunately I stuck my gum in the program and threw it away. Basically, he wanted to show that evil is misunderstood and so he chose to portray the Phantom as a mostly nice guy with low self-esteem. Oh, and sometimes he kills people, but it’s okay. He’s been abused. I could appreciate the different interpretation, but it ended up being flatter than Jennifer Aniston’s stomach.

To sum it up, as my friend put it, there was definitely no music in the night.

On Friday I see Wicked. I am expecting that to be much, MUCH better.

 

 

 

 

Signs of the Times

Lately I have seen a lot of interesting signs around the city that I have deemed blogworthy. I wish I would have taken pictures of these signs, but alas, that would require me figuring out how to use my camera phone in less than 15 minutes. So just use your imagination.

Favorite Creepy sign:

While driving on State Street one night, I noticed an Artic Circle sign that said “Find furry friends in your kidsmeal.” Eeeewwww! I’ll pass, thanks.

Favorite Why-Did-You-Even-Make-A-Sign-That-Says-That sign:

One day, when I walking through Temple Square to go home from work, I saw someone holding a sign that said “Chaos is Satan.” I suppose that could be true, but I wasn’t sure why it was necessary to share that with the rest of humanity.

Favorite Only-In-Utah sign:

Next to the 600 North overpass is a sign that says “End Polygamy Now” and then provides a polygamy hotline number. When I drive past it I think maybe it is time to get out of Utah.

Favorite Maybe-You-Should-Have-Thought-This-Through sign:

In Springville there is a billboard along Southbound I-15 for bail bonds that says “Get out of jail now.” This would make a lot more sense if it said “Get your loved one out of jail now” or something like that. Because, let’s face it, those who are need of bail bonds because they are already in jail probably aren’t going to see that billboard from their cells. Maybe it is meant for those who are in the police cars on their way to jail and they can text for a bail bond.

Those are some of my favorites. I will probably make this a regular, okay, more likely a semi-regular feature on my blog. So if you see any funny/bizarre/creepy signs you’d like featured, just send them to me and I’ll put them in the next edition of Signs of the Times.

 

Addendum to the Previous Post and a Plea for Help

Okay, so I didn't mean to give the impression that I'm about to join the cutting club or something. Re-reading my post, I guess it does sound pretty melancholy. Sorry about that. I was actually in a good mood when I wrote it; maybe a little too contemplative though. 

I am not depressed.

I AM, however, in desperate need of cute sandals that don't cost a fortune. They need to be semi-professional too. I've looked at a few places, but I'm not going to pay $50-60 for sandals. I also don't like Payless because those shoes always fall apart soon after I buy them and they hurt my feet. 

So if any of you have suggestions of places where I can find nice, reasonably-priced sandals, I'd love to hear them!