Wednesday, December 27, 2006

Even in California

runaway

Running away- let's do it,
Free from the ties that bind.
No more depair
Or burdens to bear
Out there in the yonder.

Running away- go to it.
Where did you have in mind?
Have to take care:
Unless there's a "where,"
You'll only be wandering blind.
Just more questions.
Different kind.

Where are we to go?
Where are we ever to go?

Running away- we'll do it.
Why sit around, resugned?
Trouble is, son,
The farther you run,
The more you feel undefined
For what you've left undone
And, more, what you've left behind.


--"Into the Woods"

Sunday, December 17, 2006

"Life is full of misery, loneliness, and suffering-- and it's all over much too soon." --Woody Allen

burned out

Warning: I’m sort of a grumpy gertrude tonight. I’m just having a blue, lonely night and can’t figure out why time can’t speed up a few days so I can just get OUT of here.

I think the first part of this list will be comprised of two lists...

LIST ONE: REASONS FOR ME TO BE UNHAPPY
1. I’m hungry and I have no food.
2. As great as my roomates are, they just can’t compare to the love and closeness I had last winter, and which I dearly miss.
3. My best friend is 5 hours away.
4. I broke up with a boy I was thinking about marrying a week ago.
5. It’s cold outside, and I have no car, which means I either have to stay in my house or be cold.
6. I really want dessert, but APPARENTLY the dessert that was made for our exclusive apartment christmas party only caters to some members of the apartment. AKA, I’m the only one here who hates cheesecake, so everyone gets dessert except me. And there’s nothing else to substitute.
7. I’m poor. Ok, I’m broke. Finding a job without a car is hell around here.
8. People are generally disappointing to me. As a whole. At least tonight they are.
9. My head hurts.
10. I have to do white-glove.

Okay, so I’m being ridiculously self-indulgent. But I’m also being reclusive about it, so no one else has to come under the darkness of my own personal rain cloud. Bottling up emotion is unhealthy. So I’m unhappy. I’ll just be unhappy until I’m done. And be angry and frustrated and victimized by the world in general for a while.

Just because I feel I should balance things out a little bit, here’s a second list. I’m doing this for your sake, not mine. It’s much more satisfying for me to believe that nothing in my life is to my desires or expectations tonight. Maybe I just need a good swift kick in the pants.

LIST TWO: AN UNWILLINGLY WRITTEN LIST OF THE REASONS FOR ME TO BE HAPPY, AND NOT A FRIGGIN MARTYR
1. I have lots of warm clothes.
2. I’m surrounded by talented, fun friends who share my tastes and interests.
3. I live with my sister.
4. I don’t have to pack my entire house up and move.
5. I made a new friend today, and got over a year or two of her thinking I didn’t like her when I was actually just intimidated by her.
6. Jenny’s niece is cute.
7. I’m having dinner with a dear old friend on Wednesday night.
8. Rebekah now knows and can quote “Arrested Development” with me.
9. I should get my paycheck sometime in the next couple of days.
10. My album is recorded, copied, wrapped, and ready to be distributed with Christmas cheer.

Damn. I feel a little better. Writing the second list served the purpose of somewhat dispelling my grumpiness. I fully intended on moaning and moping for several more hours.

Well, kids, let me tell you, the fact of the matter is this. I am simply BURNED OUT. I am so sick of freezing Rexburg, everyone asking me about finals, trying to avoid social life complications when it comes to Vaughn, being lonely for old roomates, coaching gymnastics, and looking for a better job. I am SO READY to lose myself in the crowds of San Fransisco, to read and listen to jazz in Mom and Ray’s apartment in Alameda, to spend hours painting and hammering and cleaning a house in Union. That last one may sound strange, but I find that kind of thing very satisfying. It’s good thinking time, or distracting time, depending on which one you need. I think I need both.

Oh, and hey, here’s some more good news. I’m going to be at Playmill again this summer. Instead of, you know, GETTING MARRIED. But it was going to be a really big difficult sacrifice for me to give up a summer up in West, but now I’m free to go back again if I want. And boy do I want. I’m counting down the days in the back of my mind. More immediately I’m counting down the days until Christmas break, but after that, it’ll be PLAYMILL to look forward to. Curtis, Cameron, Mallori and probably Jeff are going back too. Kristi may come up as stage manager and box office employee. It should be fun. Gosh, there’s something about that place that pushes your troubles a thousand miles away. Whether you’re onstage or in the audience. But of course I’d much rather be onstage.

I think I’m going to brave leaving my room, and see if I can’t find SOMETHING to eat. If I have to eat another bowl of knock-off “Golden Crisp,” I’ll shoot myself in the leg. Maybe I’ll go on a walk later. Or visit Jesse and Kathleen. I am feeling a deep need to be around someone (s) who I know care deeply about me.

Thursday, November 30, 2006

"I'm going to call the cops and they're going to come arrest you, because you're a throw-ball snower!" --Nellie

I'm bored. It's snowing. There are a few things I could do right now, actually I probably SHOULD do them right now. But all of them involve going out in the cold, or taking longer than an hour, or both. And I refuse to go out into the cold, and I have to go to work in an hour, so I don't really have the liberty to do any of those things.
I'm over my flu...hooray! I'm still really nauseous, which is lame, but I'm doing better. Something occured to me, though...about a month ago or so, maybe a little more, I went through this inexplicable bout of stomach-aches and indigestion and the same kind of thing going on right now. That was also during a period of V's mild mania. He's going through another one of those right now...it sort of snuck up on him, but we'll make it. BUT, I think that my own anxiety that I go through during his mania is manifest in my digestive system. Sounds like a stretch, but not so much if you think about it. When I was a kid, I'd always complain of stomach-aches when I was nervous or scared or unhappy. I'm a firm believer that physical and emotional health are very connected. I wish V would hurry up and get back to a stable psychological state, so that I don't have to keep downing Pepto-Bismol and Tums. If I end up with an ulcer, I'll be mad. In the meantime, do you know how hard it is to coach preschoolers with double-you-over stomach cramps? A strange and rather inconvenient phenomenon.
We're heading back to Nebraska tonight to pick up his car. It's been snowing here, but the forecast looks clear in the midwest and central US, so we shouldn't have too much trouble. Pray for us just the same.
I don't have much else to say at the moment. Here, watch a friend of a friend of a friend on youtube.

WELL NOW? V

Saturday, November 25, 2006

"That reminds me of the time my sister drove over my aunt in a golf cart." --Jason Deacon

What a Thanksgiving! I probably shouldn't attempt to chronicle it until I'm back in Rexburg, because who knows what adventures await us on the way back, but I'll be too tired for days afterwards, and at this moment I'm home alone in my pajamas because of the contrary personality of my uterus. So blog I shall!
Beckah and I were invited out to visit V's family for Thanksgiving, so on Tuesday night, we set off, to arrived in Westerville (pop. 52), Nebraska at around 5pm on Wednesday. So far, I have done the following:

Made friends with a pet sage-hen named Stretch
Explored a tree-house
Roasted hot dogs in a fire-pit
Chased chickens for the sheer childish joy of it
Eaten lots and lots of PIE
Jumped on a trampoline
Sprained my pinky toe getting off the trampoline
Explored a 100+ year old cemetary
Tried to get the right face attached to 11 names
Had a marshmellow/capture the flag war, both inside and outside
Participated in at least 3 wrestling matches
Had a salamander placed on my head at the Thanksgiving dinner table
Eaten an ice-cream cone at Emily's soda fountain in Broken Bow
Explored the old cars in a dried up creek bed
Climbed all over construction equipment and held my breath while V risked life and limb doing the same in much more dangerous ways
Watched V and Beckah and Jason play video games on Jason's high definition, surround-sound, 17-inch TV, with his new PS3
Discovered that it is actually possible to have a happy, healthy, non-dysfunctional family of 11

The last is the most important event. Although the salamander on my head comes in a close second. Funnily enough, in a house of 11 kids ranging from ages 5 to 22, it was the 22-year-old who put the salamander on my head. Dear V. He'll never fully grow up, and I love him for it.
This family absolutely astounds me. If you were to ask me why I couldn't believe it was possible to have a family this close and healthy before, I'd tell you that it was because I'd never seen it. They've had their share of adventures and heartaches...V's been hospitalized twice because of mental illness, Lisa suffered kidney failure in her early childhood, Kaitlyn was born a month early, jobs and houses have been in jepoardy. But still, the entire family joins in chores, and family prayer, and conversations in bed. I WANT THAT. I don't know exactly how to have it in my own life, but by golly, am I willing to learn. I don't want a perfect family. I don't even know what that is. I want a loving family. A family that will always always always love and support, through kidney failures and Zyprexa and financial peril and flu bugs and arguments and sprained ankles.
I won't make this blog very long...I've got to jump in the shower, but I pray that I will have the guidance to build a family one day like the one that V comes from.

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

You won't believe what just happened...

This reel has brought extreme fulfillment to myself and friends. Many of the lines in it are now quoted often in "The Hawmps." May it make you smile or giggle.

Friday, November 03, 2006

"Competence, like truth, beauty and contact lenses, is in the eye of the beholder." --Laurence J. Peter

preschool gymnastics

Well, everyone, the blessed day has arrived...I have a job. You know how the first few days of any job are miserable? You're expected to be responsible but you don't know what you're doing or where anything is or what people's names are and you just are expected to have your footing when you really don't have it at all! Well, my first day of work yesterday wasn't really like that. It wasn't really miserable. But I've never had a job before where I felt fairly incompetent. I'm coaching preschool gymnastics. I'm a dancer, and I've got lots of experience with teaching and kids, but I just don't feel like I really know my way around. I teach little kids how to do somersaults and cartwheels and tuck jumps. I'm learning fast what all of these terms mean and how to do them, but I like having enough expertise and experience to feel like I can really TEACH and COACH. It's awfully intimidating to be teaching these toddlers and spotting them on the high beam as they walk across it when their parents are right there watching them, and ME. And of course, V is Captain Amazing Gymnast. He got me the job, by the way. We're both now gymnastics coaches. Which is way fun. He teaches much more advanced classes, but I helped him out in a couple of his classes yesterday, and it was really fun. He's a great coach. I don't like being an assistant though. I never have. I like being in charge or following, none of this in between stuff. Too much responsibility for not enough control. But I enjoyed my first day, and I feel like in a few weeks I'll really have it down. I'll be getting about 20 hours a week. Not bad. So on to a new employment adventure!
I'm also doing a lot of applying for freelance at home work...things like legal transcription and manuscript editing and data entry. We'll see how that goes. A nice way to make some extra money while still choosing my own hours. I'll keep you posted.
Not much else to report, really. Life is wonderful, scary, beautiful, adventurous, miraculous, difficult, and fulfilling all at once. As usual. I could blog for a few more hours about V...maybe I'll blog for a few minutes about him, because he occupies a great deal of my time and thoughts and energies and prayers and emotions.
V is one of the most attractive (I won't even pretend that I don't spend a little more time than I should checking him out at work...but he's a gymnast and he has a great body and as his girlfriend I have a right to check him out), most giving, most intelligent, hilarious, creative, deep and wonderful man I've ever met. We're falling more and more in love every day, and its incredible and terrifying, as falling in love seems to be. Our lives are becoming more and more entwined as time goes on, and I'm finding that its actually okay with me. I WANT him to be part of my life, and I want to be part of his. We're both so communicative with one another, and good at working out conflicts and...just...making our relationship WORK. I'm helping him through this semester academically, seeing as how he's working two jobs, elder's quorum president (that's right, LDS ladies), and taking 12 credits of 300 and 400 level English classes. And he's helping me figure out my financial situation. He's the most non-manipulative person I've ever had any sort of relationship or friendship with at all...he's willing to give without holding expectations over me, and I'm able to do the same for him. He loves me for who I am, and tells me I'm pretty and that he loves me every single day, and as far as saying and doing romantic things, he fulfills every girlish heart's fancies. Certainly mine. Sometimes he'll say something to me that's so romantic and beautiful that I sit there later and wonder what I did in my life to deserve what every girl in the world waits for.
I'm sorry, dear readers, if you're, like, vomiting by now, so I'll stop. But he's fantastic, and I love him. And life is good.

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

From the recesses of approximately 1300 grams of gray matter.

Barksdale-Pumpkin-Baby

Hey all! Time for a new blog entry. Of late, my blogs have been sort of specifically written by topic, but I think tonight's will be a stream-of-consciousness entry.

I'm actually sort of enjoying the change in seasons right now. In a non-pessimistic way, that will probably last about a week. Either because I dislike fall in general, or because that's only about as long as the season will last around here. But I would like all to know that I am thoroughly enjoying life right now, and eagerly await the adventures that lie just around the corner. My show opens tomorrow night, my roomates are wonderful, I just bought groceries, and the happiest hours of my day are spent with an incredible boy who is dear to me and who I love dating.

Tonight was invited dress rehearsal for "The Spitfire Grill," in which I play Effy Krayneck, town gossip and busy body. And postmistress. I can honestly say that tonight was one of the worst performances of my life in this particular show. I just felt off-kilter. The show was off musically a lot, my own emotional journey was rocky and disconnected, and my old age makeup was too dark. But I think I've got it all out of my system. The lameness of my performance tonight somehow seems to ensure a good run for me.

Do you think "off-kilter day-ness" can be contagious? V's day was like that...just lots and lots of klutzy, silly, ridiculous, brainless things happening. It's like Willie said long ago, but which I've never forgotten...days like this can be compared to getting into your car after someone else has been driving it. Nothing is permanently wrong, but nothing really seems to fit. The seat's too far forward, the mirrors need adjusting, the steering wheel's too high. It can be fixed, but sometimes it takes a while, and it takes a few tries to get everything back to normal. Some days you just have to sort of muscle through until you can crash into bed at the end of it and be grateful for the next day, when you can experience some semblence of order and sense again. Today was a day of "metaphorically re-aligning mirrors."

I really wish I could have found that quote from Willie. He was much more eloquent about the whole concept.

V's day being off-kilter probably has to do with the fact that he couldn't sleep last night. He's so funny and cute when he's sleepy...he sort of reverts back into childhood a little bit. He just becomes this cuddly, pouty, adorable little boy who just wants to be fed, and hugged, and loved and tucked in. I can't resist coddling him when he's like that. =) Of course, I love being with him all the more when he's whacky and awake and intelligent and all that too. I just like being with him in general. Come this Saturday, we'll have been dating for one month. I can't decide if it feels longer than that, or shorter. More often it feels like its been much longer.

So it's only 1 in the morning (I know..."only"?) but it feels so much later. Insomniac that I am, I don't really FEEL like going to bed. Once I'm asleep and am required to get up again, I really appreciate sleep and enjoy it a great deal. But when I'm fully awake, the idea of sleep seems so boring and such a waste of time. There are a handful of things in this world that I find tedious and irritating just because no matter how many times you do them, they must be done again eventually. I get no lasting sense of accomplishment from going to bed...I'm going to be there again tomorrow night. Showering? That drives me nuts, I'm just going to get dirty again. Dishes? I avoid doing those at all costs, the pile refuses to be diminished.

Maybe I'll do some online research on current mental health issues. A new, enlightening late-night habit I've developed. I hope you are all loving life, and learning lots, and eating some sort of food that includes pumpkin, because it's autumn.

Quote of the day to conclude with:
"In the heat of composition I find that I have inadvertently allowed myself to assume the form of a large centipede." --The Screwtape Letters

Don't let it happen to you! =)

PS: Isn't this child the most enchantingly lawn-gnomish little character? I'm so baby-hungry right now.
pumpkin-stand

Monday, October 09, 2006

We're young, poor, and full of sugar! Let's go crazy, Broadway-style!

light sabers
The Great Battle of College Avenue! It started with 4 light-sabers, but by the end of it, a giant cardboard roll, several sticks, the Sting, and a broom also entered the fray, along with several other people. This is Tim, Beckah, Garrett, and Brad. Notice everyone's intense looks, with the exception of cheerful Tim. Also note the parallel between Garrett's shirt and his own stance. Great pic, no? Please also take a moment to check out Beckah's pictures of the Pregnancy Night, along with some descriptions of more of our adventures, including that of "Tad the Cuddler," on her blog.

By way of update, thought I'd share a little about life here on College Avenue. This cute little house is definitely my favorite PLACE I've lived in Rexburg so far, but the whole experience is growing on me too. I live with some fun, whacky wonderful people, and our home is frequented by even more of the same. I'm inescapably a theatre geek, so allow me to introduce you to life around here using a little theatrical vocabulary.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

The "Hawmps family"...

Liz (AKA me): Father figure and stay-at-home mom in one, nudist, and quote-book editor.

Beckah: One of the "little girls," word-of-the-day editor, and initiator of chaos!

Nellie: Another one of the "little girls," the token Idahoan, and stutter-er extraordinaire.

Jenny Mae: The last of the "little girls," fellow Oregonian, and the other silly redhead.

Kimri: The wise and righteous Grandmother figure, the quietest and the oldest, and the one who sits and takes us all in with a smile and loving questions about our sanity and salvation

Eileen: The Mom, cook and cosmetologist, and the friendliest hostess who you can't help but love.

Additional Hawmps members that don't actually sleep here, at least not after curfew, include but aren't limited to...

V: "Big Brother" (literally to Eileen), MY BOYFRIEND (I don't think I mentioned that detail about my life in my blog yet), owner of the famous and often-seen-on-college-avenue car The Oracle, and general provider and partaker of the excellent times that we have here. Also an excellent kisser.

Tim: From across the street. The gentlemanly ape-ish fellow that is Eileen's significant other, who is generally pretty mellow but who every now and then says or does something that is made all the more hysterical by his mellow manner.

Brad: Also across the street. A friend of Jenny's from home who comes to woo us with his guitar and his Dave Matthews impression. Brad...the object of many lusty thoughts.

Davey: Jenny's brother, seemingly quiet, who joins in the chaos with his guitar-playing skills and Tony Hawk Playstation...ing.

Allowiscious: The cat whose origons and actual home is unknown, who occasionally comes by to purr in our laps and startle us as we turn a corner. We gave it it's name.

THE SETTING:
131 College Avenue. Turkish prayer flags hang above the porch. On the front door is taped a sign, with a picture of a camel and the words "Welcome to the Hawmps" and as a post-script "It's very small. And nicely cramped...so that there's hardly any room between one adventure and the next." Enter an old house with walls too thin, containing an impressive library, a dozen or so Jones soda bottle, and a Pez collection on the wall opposite the front door. A guitar sits in the corner, rescued from the flooded Playmill men's dressing room, bearing the autographs of everyone who's played it since its entered the house. The white-board outside the kitchen has various items of business, including the Question of the Day ("Are there pineapples/beaches in Spirit Prison?") and the Word of the Day, normally taken from the Balderdash cards ("Snurp: verb. To shrivel up."). Next to the white-board is the chores chart and the Official Constitution, and on a shelf above it, The Shrine. The Shrine consists of numerous objects that have stories behind them or are in some way connected to one or more of the members of the household. On the shelf sit a newspaper rose in a vase, a green stuffed bunny named Dave, a Mr. Potato figure, the shards of Sting, 3 railroad pikes (one of them bearing a magnet saying "Vaughn"), a Catholic "Santa Barbara" candle, a collection of Volkswagon Bug model cars, and 2 Balderdash cards, one describing the movie "Hawmps" and one bearing the word "Dunkle" (to dint or crumple). In the kitchen is a pile of dishes that V will eventually do if they're Liz's responsibility, otherwise they'll pile up for a few more days until we run out of clean ones. Covering the walls are the paper hearts that were put up for Eileen weeks ago when she was having a bad day, but which now serve as a good reminder of appreciation.

THE DIALOGUE:

"I've always wanted to ski through fire." --Nellie

"I hate our ceiling. It looks like nasty kisses." -Beckah

"Eileen, the oven scared me so I turned it off. Sorry if I hurt your food." --Jenny

"I wouldn't trush him with my eggs." --Brad

"It would be really embarrassing if my brother was a bad kisser." --Eileen

"Wow, if her skin was darker, she'd look black." --V

"I can't figure out if that's a sombrero or a tank." --Beckah

"My gosh, Kimri knows more guys than Santa Claus!" --Jenny

"Brad busted the hand off of Jesus." --Eileen

"I think I'm sort of cute. And I like the way I move." --Brad

"I was going to go to bed early tonight until we decided to get pregnant." --Nellie

"What's the possibility of all of us getting pregnant at the same time? We'd have to call eachother up and be like 'Let's conceive.'" --Beckah

"Nothing says 'Garrett' like hobo." --Jenny

Beckah: I'm glad Moroni's on the top of the temple.
Nellie: Yeah, what if it was like, Gabriel or some other angel?
Beckah: Yeah, or Micheal. Gross!

"You'll have plenty to do while I'm gone; I've had a sudden urge to consume waffles." --Perry Mason

I think that is sufficient introduction to the adventurous existence that is life at the Hawmps!

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Sometimes I think the surest sign that intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe is that none of it has tried to contact us. --Bill Watterson

painful stupidity
As a Christian woman, I should not be posting this blog. But I feel no remorse. (As of yet.) Anyone this idiotic of a writer who managed to get themselves into a private university deserves to be mocked.
Vaughn is a TA for a literature class, and as part of that job, he occasionally gets stacks of papers to read and grade on a Pass/Fail scale. The papers are to be 2 pages in length, making some sort of specific connection to or analysis of any of the readings in the class. Lately, we've been reading these papers together, partly so that we can spend more time together, and partly because some of the papers are so astoundingly bad that we can't help laughing at them.
I sincerely hope that the authors of the following two papers never find out about my posting these, and that if they do, they know that I do not judge them based on their lack of intelligent writing alone. I have no idea how these people could have gotten as far as a 250 level English class with these writing skills (or lack thereof). Both of these papers blatantly failed. Enjoy the following literary jewels, even if you are a little saddened by the enormous lack of writing ability at this college.

"Gratitude" by Anonymous Female
The poem called "The Red Wheelbarrow" is written by William Williams. He works as a pediatrician. Williams draws his experience with working with people as a doctor to influence his writing for poems and plays. Williams has the skill of making his poetry short but with deep meaning. Why in is the poem structured in such a simplistic way? How does this poem affect our generation? What is the value and the purpose of the poem?
Why did Williams style his poetry in such a unique fashion for his generation? In his experience with people he creates a simplistic style to represent everyday speech of the average American. He writes for the majority of America and adapts their language, culture, and beliefs. As Williams writes using the different adaptations he units America because he utilizes their culture. He shows the different culture that makes up America by having the poem's sentence structure split up, but he brings the cultures together by unifying them into a poem.
The purpose of the poem is to show the wheel barrow as a symbol to gain gratitude and to unite America culturally. Every American has a wheel barrow that affects their lifestyle in some way. Farmers use it for transporting hay or droppings from animals. The suburban family would use it for transporting tree or grass clippings. For the city dwellers the wheel barrow may be seen on the street at a construction site, which is used to build skyscrapers for the businessmen of America. The wheel barrow is a symbol of things that are unappreciated because it is left in the rain and seen as a mundane object when it obviously has many purposes in everyday life as stated before. The wheel barrow symbolizes the things which we are ungrateful for, such as freedom, technology and the daily blessings we receive. In fact, we could take out wheel barrow and place any thing that seems to be underappreciated.
In our generation many do not comprehend the full impact that the "wheel barrow," as a symbol, has in our lives. For us the unifying wheel barrow is the radio, television, and the internet. Each of these electronic devices keeps us in contact, not only in America but with the rest of the world. We can find out about cultures and lifestyles of a tribe in South America using the mechanical devices. We can keep other cultures alive by watching the Discovery Channel or doing research on the internet. Do we appreciate these modern advances? At points,some people do show their gratitude, like Williams in writing this poem. He not only shows his own gratitude but influences others to see the "wheel barrow" in their lives.
Does this poem have value and would someone want to read it? The poem has value because it has a good message. The message is the unifying of cultures and the showing of gratitude by Williams. "The Red Wheelbarrow" is very simple to read, so there is no excuse as to why someone would not want to read it. In conclusion, the message is worth learning and applying to our lives. Also the poem can be applicable to any generation and any culture.

"My Purpose" by Anonymous Male
I chose to read the poem, "War is Kind" by Stephen Crane. The reason I read it was because I have read some of his books before, and I wanted to try his poetry and see how it compared.
The question I am going to address is, what does this piece have to do with me? I love history, and I love learning wars. Some of my favorite books and movies are about war. In this poem, it is talking about men in war. We always think about the terrible things revolved around wars, and you hear sayings like "War is Hell" all the time. This is similar, but it has a different twist to it. Sure the dead bodies are disgusting, and your friends die, but that is where men belong. Yes the trenches are bad and the bullets are frightening, but men need to be where they are. In my opinion, Stephen Crane was trying to say that despite all the negativity that comes with war, it makes men feel like they have a purpose. "The men were born to drill and die". Women are supposed to have children, men are supposed to fight and defend those children.
Really, there is nothing in war that is good at all. There is death, families are ruined, and are very costly in terms of money. Crane, I think, was just trying to make it not sound as bad from a male point of view. War is kind, in the sense that it lets men do their jobs. In a world and society full of anger, revenge, and sorrow, we need to look at the positives of things more often as Stephen Crane did in this poem.

Heaven help us.

Saturday, September 23, 2006

"They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety." --Benjamin Franklin

1108_bookburn
In the process of creating this blog, I was "googling" (interjection: what an interesting verb) banned books and organizations related to it, and I came across an article on a "Christian" web-site about book-burning. As I read it, I was surprised to discover that it wasn't speaking about the dangers of destroying knowledge by fire, but it was advocating it! I sat in rehearsal with my sister's laptop in front of me, and I couldn't take my eyes off of the words on the screen. It was like a graphic, bloody movie that you can't stop watching. It displayed the most ignorant, self-righteous, frightening closed-mindedness, that I sat like an idiot in the Arena Theatre with tears in my eyes.
I felt so angered and saddened and terrified, I didn't even know what to do! I felt so helpless. I thought about e-mailing the webmaster with my comments, with examples of scripture on how the glory of God is intelligence, but on principle I don't participate in Bible-bashing and furthermore, it's impossible to have an intelligent conversation with someone(s) so closed-minded and I doubt they would listen to my ideas anyway. I suppose that in a way I'm as guilty as those who run this ridiculous web-site, by assuming that my own ideas are completely right. But I can't bring myself to the conclusion that all of the things that I KNOW must be true actually aren't. The ideas and truths that I've come to know and accept and use to guide my life I've come to by a long, intellectual and spiritual process. They are truths that have withstood the tests of time and history and prayer. How can those things be false after all?
My intention for this blog was to inform my readers of National Banned Book Week. That is still my intention, but my motivation has been tripled and changed in nature. In my deep-rooted belief that humanity is inherently good at heart, I don't often think about how corrupt we are also capable of being. Opposition in all things, eh? Those things and peoples capable of the greatest good are also capable of the greatest evil. Although Banned Book Week still has a "Bohemian Rebellion" appeal to me, it now carries an even greater importance. Since I can't Bible-bash, since I can't present arguments that closed-minded people will listen to, since I can't extinguish all of the fires that destroyed the pages of books over all the centuries, I'll have to fight this intellectual battle by doing the very thing that has been condemned by fanatic Christians and power-hungry governments for years upon years. I'll have to read forbidden books.
This is a list of the Top 100 Most Banned Books, from the American Library Association. I'm proud to say that I own or have read at least half of them. If you'd like to participate in Banned Book Week, it's NEXT WEEK, and all you have to do is read a book or two from the list. You can also check out what your local public library or school is doing to participate, make a T-shirt or button saying that you read banned books, write an essay on freedom of speech and press, join a group on Facebook. I'm basing this on the assumption that most of you who read this blog are fairly open-minded, but I urge you to participate. It seems like such a stupid, pointless thing to do, but I'm going to do it because it's important enough to me, and I feel like I've got to do SOMETHING.

The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald
Catcher in the Rye, JD Salinger
The Grapes of Wrath, John Steinbeck
To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee
The Color Purple, Alice Walker
Ulysses, James Joyce
Beloved, Toni Morrison
The Lord of the Flies, William Golding
1984, George Orwell
The Sound and the Fury, William Faulkner
Lolita, Vladmir Nabokov
Of Mice and Men, John Steinbeck
Charlotte's Web, EB White
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, James Joyce
Catch-22, Joseph Heller
Brave New World, Aldous Huxley
Animal Farm, George Orwell
The Sun Also Rises, Ernest Hemingway
As I Lay Dying, William Faulkner
A Farewell to Arms, Ernest Hemingway
Heart of Darkness, Joseph Conrad
Winnie-the-Pooh, AA Milne
Their Eyes were Watching God, Zora Neale Hurston
Invisible Man, Ralph Ellison
Song of Solomon, Toni Morrison
Gone with the Wind, Margaret Mitchell
Native Son, Richard Wright
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, Ken Kesey
Slaughterhouse Five, Kurt Vonnegut
For Whom the Bell Tolls, Ernest Hemingway
On the Road, Jack Kerouac
The Old Man and the Sea, Ernest Hemingway
The Call of the Wild, Jack London
To the Lighthouse, Virginia Woolf
Portrait of a Lady, Henry James
Go Tell it on the Mountain, James Baldwin
The World According to Garp, John Irving
All the King's Men, Robert Penn Warren
A Room with a View , EM Forster
The Lord of the Rings, JRR Tolkien
Schindler's List, Thomas Keneally
The Age of Innocence, Edith Wharton
The Fountainhead, Ayn Rand
Finnegans Wake, James Joyce
The Jungle, Upton Sinclair
Mrs. Dalloway, Virginia Woolf
The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Frank L. Baum
Lady Chatterley's Lover, DH Lawrence
A Clockwork Orange, Anthony Burgess
The Awakening, Kate Chopin
My Antonia, Willa Cather
Howard's End, EM Forster
In Cold Blood, Truman Capote
Franny and Zooey, JD Salinger
Satanic Verses, Salman Rushdie
Jazz, Toni Morrison
Sophie's Choice, William Styron
Absalom, Absalom!, William Faulkner
Passage to India, EM Forster
Ethan Frome, Edith Wharton
A Good Man is Hard to Find, Flannery O'Connor
Tender is the Night, F. Scott Fitzgerald
Orlando, Virginia Woolf
Sons and Lovers, DH Lawrence
Bonfire of the Vanities, Thomas Wolfe
Cat's Cradle, Kurt Vonnegut
A Separate Peace, John Knowles
Light in August, William Faulkner
The Wings of the Dove, Henry James
Things Fall Apart, Chinua Achebe
Rebecca, Daphne du Maurier
A Hithchiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams
Naked Lunch, William S. Burroughs
Brideshead Revisited, Evelyn Waugh
Women in Love, DH Lawrence
Look Homeward, Angel, Thomas Wolfe
In Our Time, Ernest Hemingway
The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas, Gertrude Stein
The Maltese Falcon, Dashiell Hammett
The Naked and the Dead, Norman Mailer
The Wide Sargasso Sea, Jean Rhys
White Noise, Don DeLillo
O Pioneers!, Willa Cather
Tropic of Cancer, Henry Miller
The War of the Worlds, HG Wells
Lord Jim, Joseph Conrad
The Bostonians, Henry James
An American Tragedy, Theodore Dreiser
Death Comes for the Archbishop, Willa Cather
The Wind in the Willows, Kenneth Grahame
This Side of Paradise, F. Scott Fitzgerald
Atlas Shrugged, Ayn Rand
The French Lieutenant's Woman, John Fowles
Babbitt, Sinclair Lewis
Kim, Rudyard Kipling
The Beautiful and the Damned, F. Scott Fitzgerald
Rabbit, Run, John Updike
Where Angels Fear to Tread, EM Forster
Main Street, Sinclair Lewis
Midnight's Children , Salman Rushdie

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

"I always wear my watch. It protects me from the bad luck I incur from doing silly things."

So here I am in cozy, fun-filled, and steadily-growing-colder Rexburg, now fully adjusted to life away from the Playmill. The fact that I'm in rehearsal every night helps. And almost the entire cast was at the Playmill this summer. PS: I got cast as Miz Effy Krayneck in the fall musical "The Spitfire Grill"--hooray! It's a fun part, and the music is a blast to sing. Work will be great, I'm sure it will be. I've been having the time of my life with my new gift subscription to NETFLIX. But a picture's worth a thousand words, so here are a few photographic examples of fun in Rexburg.

Home sweet home! It's official name given to it by us is "The Hawmps." Isn't my house darling? It's actually 3 stories...the manager lives upstairs, girls live in the basement, and we live in the middle (up the porch steps). I slept on that porch for the first two weeks I was back, before it got friggin freezing. But I love living here. "Rather small...and nicely cramped, so that there's hardly any room between one adventure, and the next."
9-18-2006-26

This is Brad, AKA "B-Rad" who is our friend and neighbor and pretty much our roomate. And Beckah. On our couch.
9-18-2006-24

Another couch-shot. With Rebekah in it. That's my roomate Eileen asleep against that endearingly gorilla-ish fellow, Tim.
9-18-2006-20

Look look look! Beckah and I found a shopping cart labeled "Ben Franklin"! We found out later that its the name of an actual grocery store, but the fact that the nearest one is in Idaho Falls still makes it fabulous!
9-18-2006-19

I just noticed that I only have an hour before I have to be at rehearsal, so I'm going to wrap it up. Hugs and high fives from Liz, and stay tuned for a video blog in the future!

Monday, September 11, 2006

Diversions for merry, yet disturbed youth.

P8070037

Simply because I would like to post something new, shake things up a bit, pull a little switch-a-roo, but I don't think I really have much to say, I thought I'd do a little online quote-book tribute. Sometimes you just need a lift, a smile, or a laugh, and what better source is there for laughter than the absurd and wonderful things that people say? So read and enjoy, my friends!

"Just because I'm thirsty doesn't mean you have to coddle me!" --Beckah

"My wife does not like to talk about a store." --The Lost Skeleton of Cadavra

"My gosh! Kimri knows more people than Santa Claus!" --Jenny Mae

"I am continually looking for my underwear." --Ben

"Ken is the biggest dandy of a doll that ever lived." --Jeff

"If I was a kid, this would be a really cool place to play with action figures. [pause] What that actually translates into is 'I really wish I had some action figures right now.'" --Curtis

"Those rocks up there look like they'd be really fun to jump off of. And those rocks down there look like they'd be really fun to die on." --Dad

"I done did give Daddy his Bible." --Maggie (age 5)

"If someone seems perfect, then either number one, they're Jesus, or number two, they have something to hide. Most likely number two, though." --Ben

"That was stuck on your arm for a while, but I was too tired to tell you." --Kyra

"I'll ask for a second opinion if it's something I don't normally wear...like a top." --Meredith

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to chew on your face." --Kathleen

"It smells like baby chickens and death." --David

"You don't want to go to Bangkok. They eat bugs there." --Curtis' mom

"God created grapefruit to measure the size of tumors by." --Roger

"My father was the Shaman of his tribe, okay? And my mother was the High Priestess, okay?
[Then why the hell did they move to New Jersey?]
I don't know, they're so stupid." --The Birdcage

I hope you are merrily diverted! Love to all!

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

IMG_0130
This is one of my favorite pictures from the entire summer. Curtis and I are actually pointing to a dead bat we found in the parking lot of the Do-It Hardware Center in West Yellowstone. Don't you think we're cheerful? It's at a funny angle cause we were trying really hard to get both our faces and the bat in the picture without actually laying down on the pavement.

Well, here I am back in Rexburg. I don't have a lot to report, because I still haven't quite found my footing here yet. I'm waiting for many a call-back about an interview at several potential places of employment. I'm waiting for my audition for "The Spitfire Grill" and subsequent casting list. I'm waiting to get to know my so far easy-going roomates. I'm waiting for my 21st birthday and related party this Friday.

It's so bizarre and fairly boring to not have a show or two every night. The first couple of days this week felt like sunday. This whole summer, sunday's been the only day I didn't have shows. So in my subconscious mind, if I didn't have to be at the theatre, it must be sunday. I think I'm going crazy, but I'm too tired and bored to really analyze it or do anything about it.

It's fairly surreal to be in between lives right now. In between Playmill and whatever else this semester holds for me. I think I need some chicken noodle soup. One of these days--probably the next time I blog--I'll do an audio post and tell some funny stories. But in the meantime, I'm going to eat some supper and prepare for my audition and think about how fun and completely different it is to be rooming with my sister.

Hugs and high-fives from Rexburg.

Thursday, August 24, 2006

"Money." --Pink Floyd

I can hardly grasp the fact that my first summer as a Playmill Player is nearly over. Only a little more than a week! The season is slowing down, we're going down to one show a night again every now and then, and we're trying to play as much as we can before we have to leave beautiful Montana.
My first summer as a Playmill player, and at the end of it, I've got so much more to carry around with me throughout life, none of which is monetary.
Tonight we only had one show of "Plaid," so afterwards a group of us went out to dinner at a nice restaurant, just because we could. Former Playmill player and friend of many a cast member Jon-Peter Lewis also joined us, and I'm pleased to say he's not nearly as insufferable as I remember him being shortly after the whole American Idol craze. (See I even provided a link to his site...) We had a nice little chat about Paul McCartney and shared a dinner roll. Although I think we could probably be friends, I can't get past the difference in our pocketbooks.
Somehow, regardless of how nice they are, I can't help but feel slightly uncomfortable about people who are obviously very wealthy. I suppose it really doesn't have anything to do with them...it's all me. As much as Jon-Peter is a nice guy, and as much as his head has shrunk back down to a satisfactory size, I can't help but be acutely aware of the fact that his jeans probably cost him $200 and mine were hand-me-downs. That he ordered both chicken tenders AND a $30 steak, whilst I was trying to decided BETWEEN a baked potato and dessert, because I could only afford one of them. That he doesn't feel like getting rid of his truck which costs $70 to fill up, just because he likes it too much, and I have to cross ice-cream and pantyhose off of my shopping list because I have to make a $50 cell phone bill every month. I can't help but resent Jon-Peter Lewis simply because he makes twice what my father does in a year. Jon-Peter didn't finish his Bachelor's. My father's preparing to work on his PhD.
I'm happy with my life, I really am. It's only when I come in contact with people who are rich am I aware that the world thinks I shouldn't be happy unless I'm rich too.
In a strange way I feel I have the upper hand on people with lots of money. Although in a capitalist society, that's far from true in many ways. I know what it feels like to really work hard for something, at the bottom of the ladder, in the simplest ways. Jon-Peter makes over $150,000 in record sales alone each year, doing things not too different from what I'm doing right now (for substantially less). But I also know what it feels like to wipe the sweat off my brow after mowing the neighbors lawn, knowing I now have enough spending money to buy souveniers on an upcoming choir trip. I know the satisfaction of coming home at night after unloading 3 semi-trucks worth of freight, with a paycheck that I beyond earned.
And yes, I do know the ache of wanting something that is monetarily impossible to get when you want it. A trip to New York City, a new computer, a used car to drive you to and from work. But along with that ache comes a complete knowledge that it is temporary. It's the same ache that drove you to extra chores to get that Safari Barbie or that Lego Pirate Set. It's just that we know ache more logically, and for different things. But I sometimes wonder if we won't look back on these things the same way we do old toys now...remembering with a bittersweet smile HOW BADLY you wanted that something and how it really didn't matter in the end.
I have food on the table, a roof over my head, clothes on my back, and monthly bills made on time. As far as I'm concerned, it's enough. Of course, a new car would get me places faster. Of course a new computer would be a lot funner to play with. But they wouldn't give me the same feeling of satisfaction if they came to me easily.
I've nothing against the system of capitalism on which our society is built. It was just an interesting experience for me to compare my life with someone very close to my age, who is in completely different financial circumstances. I hope Jon-Peter never reads this, but if by some fluke he does, I hope he knows that I don't hold his wealth against him, nor do I judge him for how he's come into it.
My life is brilliant and absolutely without frills. I'm poor, but so far, happily so, and the frustrations of poverty only make what little occasional wealth I have all the more miraculous. I haven't a clue sometimes how I've made it thus far, and I'm all the wiser for it.

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

The illusion of separateness

78670235_d2799acf87

Okay so this is awfully dark and melancholy, but sometimes you need to get that way for poetry to really express the pain and beauty of life. Reading some of Willie's poetry on his blog inspired me. (The fellow's a genius.) So read away, literary enthusiasts. If I told you what it was about, it loses some of its validity as a tool to realize something in your own sphere of experience. I'll just make the disclaimer: It's not suicidal, homicidal, or a plea for help. It's an observation of humanity's capabilities and a commentary inspired by the buddhist philosophy: "The illusion of separateness is the foundation for all human suffering."


Behind the forest and the geysers and the highways
The verbal lynching of the everyman
Now is the time for all good men
Hypocrisy and
The slow stab of a scalpel
the flesh against the blade
Florescent autopsy observation
the masochism tango
The perpetual reopening
and scabbing

Yesterday the blistering began
Shoulders and stomach coming to a slow roast
marinade from the facial faucets
Preheat crematory, sew lips, widen orifices of ears

Librarian olympics
Always the optimist martyr
In the caves of mars or venus
Fixing a hole
Where the prom court disco mirror dancing ball
Dangles from the creaking wire
Wire tense and turning slowly
Weighed down as though by
A blackened human body
Labeling tag swaying gently
from the big toe

Exquisite cadaver atoning
Tongue hanging out in cartoon splendor

Sunday, August 06, 2006

Why should Mike get all the credit!?

opinion

A couple of weeks ago, I got a phone call from a good friend back at BYU-Idaho. Whose name will remain anonymous for the protection of his dignity, and perhaps even life and limb. He called to tell me a story...it was a story of sarcasm, social experimentation, and journalistic pranking. He and another friend wrote a letter to the editor of the campus newspaper, tongue in cheek, just to see if it would be printed and what would happen if it was. The letter they wrote in no way reflects their actual attitudes. Also note that Mike Leman actually is dating a BYU-I girl, who is very low-maintenance. The letter reads thus:

Girls : BYU–I vs. EFY
Every summer hundreds of teenage girls come to Rexburg to attend EFY. As far as fashion goes, these girls are blowing BYU-I girls out of the water. They obviously go out of their way to be well dressed, do their hair, and do whatever it takes to be attractive. Why aren’t BYU-I girls making an equal effort? Most college girls only shave their legs once a week! Showering happens every few days. They throw their hair in a ponytail, instead of taking time to style it. Get with the times, ladies! I’m just saying that it would be nice if the girls put more effort into looking good as guys on campus do. We work hard for you ladies. Try and keep up. If you need a quick fashion lesson, talk to EFY girls.
Michael Leman, a senior from Rexburg

The letter was printed in the Scroll July 25 2006 issue. Completely unforseen by either of them, this is the reaction it got. The following are from the Scroll August 1 issue.

BYU-I girls ‘keep up’
I didn’t know whether or not to take Michael Leman’s letter seriously — “[EFY girls] do whatever it takes to be attractive.” I’m sorry Mr. Leman, but most girls who attend this school are here to better their education — not flirt and score with guys. A lot of BYU-I girls do take time and effort to look nice. I know many girls who spend hours primping each morning before class. As for your advice on “keeping up” with the guys on campus — why don’t you sit in a salon for 3+-plus hours cutting, dying and waxing and then we’ll talk. It’s sad to see that there are shallow guys on campus who criticize girls’ appearance and then compare them to 16-year-olds who are chasing after college guys. But hey, I guess EFY girls’ strategy is working, eh Michael?
Michelle McPhail, a freshman from West Jordan, Utah

Women, be feminine
I completely agree with Michael Leman! There are too many girls who do not take care of their looks. Too many of them have fallen into the belief that being feminine is bad and demeaning to their gender, when really it is the other way. We are women for a reason and we are supposed to be feminine. I am the mother of two, and I make sure every day that I take time to dress decently and put on some make-up. I do this for myself, my husband, and my Heavenly Father. He created me to be a woman and I should look it. Too many girls think that workout clothes are appropriate to wear all day long. Girls, take care of yourselves. Look nice. Dress nice. Do your best to look your best. Margaret Nadauld said in conference: “‘Femininity is part of your inner beauty’ … Our outward appearance is a reflection of what we are on the inside...You can recognize women who are grateful to be a daughter of God by their outward appearance.”
Shauna Taylor, BYU-I Alumna, Oroville, Calif.

Models have attitudes
Two thumbs up to you Mr. Leman, for speaking your mind. I admire that. In writing a letter that’ll probably have more than half the campus nipping at your heels, that took guts. I agree that it’s important for girls to dress nice and be well groomed. It’s part of the Honor Code. But they all have different ways of going about it. As a defense for the lovely ladies on campus, I’d say that they’re doing a great job at looking their best. But what I prize more in an individual is personality. That speaks far more to me than mere appearance. I’m sure that we’ve all known girls/guys who dress like models but have the worst attitude problem west of the Mississippi. What are their looks, then? But we all have our preferences. I can tell that you like girls with lots of fashion. Since I don’t really care about that stuff, you can scratch me off your list and find another girl. Just keep looking for those girls you prefer and the rest of us will keep doing what we’ve been doing, and we’ll smile the whole time.
Lauren Harvey, a junior from Plainfield, Vt.

BYU-I girls are pretty
I am confident that you have already received countless numbers of letters to the editor that have served as rebuttals concerning the latest letter in the Scroll. I just want to put in my two cents’ worth. First of all, this guy that wrote in must realize that the EFY girls are between the ages of 14 and 18. Being that he is a senior and probably of the age 23-25, he should be searching for girls who are more in his range. I feel that it is my duty as a male student at BYU-I to say that the girls on campus are beautiful, and they are that way daily. Many of them work very hard so some stupid boy will look at them. Not to mention they do this for weeks on end. The EFY girls are here for a week. That’s it. They are looking to impress the good-looking guy in the group and working on maybe holding his hand in group study or getting his e-mail address so they can keep in touch. This is not a good comparison. Good try, but I’ll take a beautiful college girl any day over a flirty, over-dressed and over-made-up 16-year-old.
Tyler Harper, a freshman from Lloydminster, Canada

Not only that, but the editorial of the week was devoted completely to this subject! The picture posted above was part of the article.

Poor Mike and Anonymous Friend are certainly getting torn to peices! For the most part I'm getting a kick out of the whole situation. I can't help but just sit back and laugh about it all.
But at the same time, it makes me a little frustrated with humanity...what a stink people put up for the silliest things. I'm beginning to come round to the opinion that a lot more sorrow comes of taking things to seriously, and not letting them go, whether it be an article in a newspaper or a comment that reflects an opinion you don't share.

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

"All of us are just trying to eek through life...to find a penny and buy a twinkie."

I thought about putting a picture up here on this blog entry...I haven't done that in a while. But then I changed my mind. I'm currently at the theatre, waiting for the vacuum to cool down after it very rudely overheated. It's my first official day of my new position as a theatre janitor...$60 extra bucks a week for only 40 extra minutes a night? Of course I'll take the job!

So after updating you on what I happen to be doing right now, I'm going to make a deep dark confession. I'm actually a man. No, just kidding. That's not true at all. (Although now that I think about it, if it were true, it would make my secret wish that I'm about to confess a lot more plausible....) Secret Wish: I really want to go to Playmill prom with David Walker. The third Saturday in August is Playmill prom after the shows, complete with royalty, disco ball, and since we're all actors, we come in themed costumes, not just fancy dress. A newly-wed couple, a warrior and his concubine, etc. To avoid complications and drama, only married couples are automatically allowed to go with eachother. Everyone else draws names. But I really want to go with David because A) We're good friends with no potentially awkward past, B) I know he would stay up and dance like crazy with me, and C) I want to go as rock stars and I know he'd be all over that.

Keep your fingers crossed. Guess what, I'm done blogging and I'm going to finish vacuuming now.

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Every time I see you from the back in that dress, you look like the Pope.

That's what Sam said to me today about my social dance dress for "Seven Brides" tonight. This blog will have to be super short because I have only so much time off-stage. This will just be a preview of the things I've been doing and the stories I have to tell.

In the last month alone, I have:

Made and set off bombs and various fireworks

Gone skinny-dipping

Got fitted for bras at Victoria's Secret

Gone hot-tubbing

Had a crazy dance party

Read 2 books that have made me acutely aware of the pain of being near someone that you love but can't be with

Eaten more fudge than you've ever dreamt about

Mentioned the fact that my sister is coming to visit soon at least once a day, and more often as her visit approaches

Put stickers on 32 boxes of West Yellowstone maps

Choreographed 2 numbers

Been a camp counselor and loved every minute of it

Thought about how much longer of a blog entry I'd like to write in the near future

Saturday, June 24, 2006

The secret of success is to go through life as someone who never gets used up.

Warning: Ranty blog commencing now.
This all is probably somewhat exaggerated, and I'm probably just grumpy, but it's been a frustrating night. I have this stupid suspicion that people do not or will not trust me with things that they all feel I lack the ability to do. Maybe they're assuming that I don't want to or can't, but I'm sitting here writing this e-mail, because of the four or five jobs I've been offered or volunteered to do, every single one of them has been taken by someone who is no more able than I. It's just been stupid like that all day. "Hey Liz, don't worry about pre-show tonight, Rachel's doing it." I LOVE doing pre-show now. "Hey will you be the Plaid girl tonight? Oh nevermind, Andrea's doing it. No, actually she can't because she's doing attic tech. Melissa will do it." Considering the fact that I spend "Plaid" sitting around and I have friends in the audience tonight, I would have loved that one line. Would you like me to do attic tech tonight? "No, Catherine learned all of it so you actually don't have to worry about it anymore." It was MY idea to learn that stuff in the first place so that Andrea could watch her husband. "Here, I'll count the money, Liz. I have to count it all anyway, so it doesn't really need to be sorted first." Not that I can't be trusted to help bundle the ridiculous amount of one's into twenty-five dollar bundles.
I AM PERFECTLY CAPABLE, IF NOT GOOD AT ALL OF THE THINGS THAT I WAS ASKED TO DO OR TRIED TO DO. And yet here I am, in Roger's office, nearly in tears at the fact that I do not feel at all like I'm meeting my full potential. If anyone has ever had a job where they felt they didn't have the opportunity to use all of their needed abilities, I know how you feel. I came here to the Playmill because I feel like I have so much to offer! Not only in performing, but I can do so much more that would be of value! I am experienced and in many cases talented in tech, cashiering, etc. etc. etc.! Grumble grumble grouse grouse!

Um, while I was writing all this, Christian came in and said hello, and apologized for kicking me out of the money, saying he felt bad, then came and gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. And also on the bright side, I'm not sick or in the hospital anymore. I'm surrounded by wonderful people I love and who love me, even if they don't realize that the Liz they love is a Liz who is still half in the shadows.

Monday, June 12, 2006

We are all born mad. Some remain so.

Rock on, Samuel Beckett.

So I'm not sure what happened to one of the three audio blogs I posted a few days ago. It's floating around in space...it must have gotten lost somewhere between my phone and this site. Sorry.

I'm here at the theatre, with a few friends, and I got antsy, so I thought I'd do a little blogging. We came here to watch a movie on the big screen we can set up...the others are watching "Escape From Alcatraz," which is a great movie, and one that I highly recommend, I just wasn't in the mood for it tonight.

The other night, after we successfully opened "Plaid," the Merrills got us pizza (according to opening night tradition) and as we were sitting there, eating and talking and laughing, I looked around and thought "I am so happy and blessed to be here. There is nowhere else in the world I would rather be right now than right here, doing what I'm doing, with the people I'm with." Of course, I miss the other wonderful people who are a part of my life, and I miss the fun of school and the green of Oregon and the laughter of my family, but there is so much joy to be had in being in the right place at the right time. And I really feel that for me right now, that's here at the Playmill. I learn so much every day that I can't even keep track of it all; my journal is this random assortment of half-written entries and revelations. I'm making new friends, and growing closer to old ones. I love discovering who a person is, and to find myself caring about them and learning from them and finding ways to serve them.
I love looking into the faces of audience members every night and watching their expressions. I can't believe how many opportunities I have to touch people's lives EVERY SINGLE DAY. Everyone has that opportunity, but to do it in a theatre setting is such a different experience, and so thrilling.
And in some ways terrifying. I sort of talked about the whole "pretty" thing in the last entry, and it's a continual process of gaining confidence in myself, but its certainly coming a lot further than it was before. I had another growing experience recently...as some of you may know, I love to play the guitar. But I'm self-taught and don't have much theory knowledge, so I only play in front of friends. Well, J.D. is in charge of pre-show for this summer, and I told him I was scared to sing a pre-show song, and he told me to go for it. I told him that I really didn't want to sing, but if he asked me to, it would be good for me and help me overcome my fears. So for the first time in my entire life, last week I played the guitar in front of an audience. I sang "Maxwell's Silver Hammer" and accompanied myself on the guitar and it was terrifying, but wonderful in this surreal sort of way.
Tonight J.D. asked me if I would play/sing a pre-show number for "Plaid" for the rest of the summer. I accepted, and I'm excited for the challenge! I still get really nervous, but as is typical of me, I get more nervous after performing. Tonight when I got offstage and was putting the guitar away, J.D. came by and said "Liz, thank you. You have a great pre-show voice. It's just this really unusual, old-time radio-type voice that is PERFECT for pre-show. It's just really good, and it's a voice that people want to hear, and that audiences want to listen to. It's great." It meant so much to me, and I thanked him and told him as much, and Davie Walker added that he loved my preshow and thought it was so cute and didn't know why I was so scared. Anymore of this and I'll be a diva before the summer's over! No, I'm not nearly there yet.
In all honesty, I don't share these compliments I receive because I want to brag or justify my behavior or decisions. I'm just so thrilled and honored by them, and they mean so much to me that I want to record them as a way to better preserve the memory, and to remind myself of them, because more often than not, I forget or don't believe them.
We've had a few interesting conversations this summer about compliments. A lot of us really dislike "fake-y compliments." You know the kind...the kind that are hollow and rather insincere, but sugar-coated to have the appearance of kindness. Or the kind that you know are not true in the least, but sound cute and nice..."You're my favorite person," or "I will love you forever," or "You are the most wonderful thing since sliced bread." Those kind of compliments are really irritating and make the real thing less meaningful if you give those out all the time. However, I had to explain that I'm guilty of the words "You're my favorite person" sometimes, too, but for an entirely different reason. There are times when I'd like to say "I really respect and admire you and I'd like to you know that I share your sense of humor or your opinion and I'm glad we're friends and I really appreciate what you said or did just now." But I feel like I can't say THAT, and even if I do at a later time or more appropriate moment, I still want to express my love/appreciation to that person. So all I know how to do is to exaggerate and hope they understand. I'm that way with flirting too...I can't for the life of me pull off tossing my hair and whimpering "Do I look all right?" I can, however, grab someone's jacket and say "Marry me!" Underneath my exaggeration is always either sincerity or sarcasm.

Sambelina (one of Sam's affectionate nicknames...being at the Playmill makes you an automatic aunt or uncle to all of the Merrill's kids) just came out and reprimanded me for not watching the movie, so I guess I better go.

Au revoir!

Friday, May 19, 2006

"My sandwich is blowing."

Hi all! I'm sorry I don't have any interesting pictures to post. This blog will have two purposes. The first is the most important, and that is to tell those who may be struggling with anything from a broken heart to an ingrown toenail, that I LOVE YOU and I daily thank the Lord for the blessing that you are in my life. More importantly, your Heavenly Father is aware of your troubles and is anxiously waiting to bless you. Be strong and keep on trucking and things will even out.

The second is a sort of turbo-update of life at the Playmill. It will come in the form of two lists...

LIST ONE: PLAYMILL VOCABULARY (which is all mostly David Walker's creation...)
"glorious"--anything good, lovely, praiseworthy, loud, powerful, etc. Can also be used in the form "gloriousness"
"clump-holery"--the formation onstage that we are in a great many times in the show, when we're all just clumped together in a little tableau without any particular geometric shape. Synonymous with "group-holery"
"______ie ________erton"--a conjugation of whatever word you want, be it a name, action, etc. For example, "Rachel" becomes "Rachie Racherton," "Get in a group" becomes "Group it up, Groupie Grouperton," "Glob" becomes "Globbie Globerton."

LIST TWO: NUMBER IT UP, NUMBIE NUMBERTON!
Since coming up to West Yellowstone, Montana
1 Trips to the E.R. since rehearsals began
79 Approximate hours spent in rehearsal
2 Times I've watched Old Faithful go off
9 Times I've cried (happy, sad, in character, and out of character)
8,462 Times I've laughed
1 Compliment I've received that I will treasure forever
2 Parental lectures received since moving to Montana
6 Times I've listened to the song "Come On, Eileen"
4 Cast members that are currently ill
9 Moments I've wondered about a cast member's sexuality
14 Number of times I've fallen while attempting a partnered cartwheel flip
1 Number of times Ben has dropped me on my head while we were attempting said cartwheel flip
0 Times Curtis and I have done our jive choreography correctly
8 Times I've done the "Go Go Joe" choreography correctly
0 Times I've done the "Go Go Joe" choreography correctly while being able to breathe and/or sing
3.1 Harry Potter books I've re-read
7 Number of ferral cats caught in the theatre and have now been sent home to Jesus
8 Times I have been down-right astounded by things that the Merrill children have said
6 Average number of times per day that I sing a high G above the octave
9,742 Number of times I have thought of the wonderful people that surround me and how much I miss those that I'm not with every day right now

Well, kids, I think that's about it for now! Every day I'm getting closer and closer to having a phone number, so to those who are trying to reach me, keep those e-mails coming! Love you all. Rock on.

Saturday, May 13, 2006

"You should put your hair in pigtails and wear lipstick. And bring a book!" --Maggie

By the way, Maggie is 5 years old. And that was her suggestion to my friend Curtis.

HEY I'M AT PLAYMILL IN BEAUTIFUL WEST YELLOWSTONE! This will have to be a short blog to update you all; I've got a thousand things to say but only 12 more minutes on the computer here in the public library.
We've just finished our first week of rehearsal, and I cannot believe how much we've gotten done. At the same time, we open in a week and a half, so I cannot believe how much more we still have to do! And as in the theatre world, there are a few bumps in the road...one of our girls sprained her foot on the first day of rehearsal and will be in a boot for at least another week, two of our guys won't be here until the week we open, and during those few days we'll be teaching them everything, two more of our number will be missing. So the first time we do the show with the entire cast present will be opening night. On the other hand, the reason those two more will be missing is because J.D. got called back for Leaf Coneybear again in "Spelling Bee," so he and Melissa are flying out to NYC for a few days. Wish him luck!
I am astounded at the beauty of my surroundings, and by the fact that I get up every morning and put on dance clothes to go rehearsal, and it's going to work. SINGING AND DANCING AND ACTING IS MY JOB! That's fantastic. Hard work...rehearsal from 10am-1pm, 2:30-5:30, and 7:30-9:30 or however late we need to be. But so worth it.

I'll be putting an audio blog up with more details later, so until then, love you all and I'm still alive!

Thursday, April 27, 2006

"Oh crap, not hell again..." --Jen


This is Ben and Jesse being smarmy in their sexy outfits at Theatre Awards a few night ago. But with outfits like that, do they have any choice but to be smarmy?
So friends, I think this might be the last written, picture-featuring blog entry I'll post in a while. I'm going up to West Yellowstone in a few days for the summer, where the only internet access is in the public library, and heaven knows when I'll have time to make it over there. So we'll be doing audio-posts I'm thinking. But we'll see.
These last few days of the semester are so floppin' jam-packed with stuff to do and emotion and panic that I'm about to lose my mind. What little of it I ever had. I really should be sleeping, or perhaps eating some food (both to appease my hunger and to get rid of some food...less to pack), or cleaning, or packing. But I'm sitting here blogging and listening to my roomates talk and occasionally joining in.
There are several events that have transpired lately to bring me to the brink of emotional exhaustion...Kathleen leaving, Comic Frenzy's final shows of the year, Theatre Awards. Gee golly whittakers. All of this is putting me in this sort of grumpy funk...not much, just a constant underlying disgruntlement. I'm not really allowing myself to fully feel how sad I am to be moving away from friends and having to say good-bye, nor how excited I am to be moving away and starting this amazing adventure in West Yellowstone. So all of it gets bottled up inside of me and gets triggered by indirect things and comes out sideways. I find that if someone hangs up on me at work, I burst into tears right there at my desk. I really believe in fully feeling things, in taking every moment in, fully experiencing a good-bye. But it's tiring,and gets to a point of fullness that is impossibly difficult...it'll be a relief to be in West Yellowstone Saturday night, with hopefully everything else taken care of.
I wanted to include another picture from Theatre Awards...I went with Kathleen and Jen went with Jesse, and somehow all three of we girls ended up in black. A.K.A. in sexy.

I felt sort of like one of the wicked stepsisters in Cinderella when we left home for the Theatre Awards. One of our other roomates, Jenny, dressed us and did our hair and lent us her jewelry, and then sat on the couch in a T-shirt and gym shorts and waved good-bye. But it wasn't like that at all really, it only struck my fancy.
My mind is going in about 8 different directions right now, so forgive the helter-skelter character of this entry.
The most predominant thought in me head is the approaching summer. Just summer in general, really. I recommend the following things to fully experience and make the summer all the things that a summer should be:

Bonfires
Hiking
Watching good movies like "Lost in Translation" (Hey, you! Lip my stockings!)
Reading good books like "A High Wind in Jamaica" or "The Whistling Toilets"
Napping in a hammock
Going to Disneyland
Eating lemon cake
Frolicking in a rain or thunderstorm
B-B-Q-ing
Eating Otter-pops until you burst

Oh summer. You cannot come to soon. I eagerly await your balmy embrace, for you to enfold me in your golden arms of warmth and splendor!

I'm starting to speak in bad poetry. Time for bed.

And by the way, if you thought Ben and Jesse are sexy now, just wait 40 years or so....

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

"To me, old age is always 15 years older than I am." --Bernard Baruch


For the record, and at the risk of revealing my ignorance, I have no idea who Bernard Baruch is. But I like what he said about age.
And it's totally true. Remember when it was only adults--older people--who were married, had babies, graduated from college, had not just jobs--but careers? I still have trouble remembering that I'm on the brink of that age group. I have friends who are married, having babies, graduating from college, and beginning careers. Somehow its still make-believe to me...like a very elaborate game of playing house. I wonder if it will ever change for me? If I'll feel like this until I'm 80 and then all of a sudden realize that I've been an adult for decades? Hm. Food for thought at least.
Life is going well, and busily. The semester is almost over, Jared gets released from his mission tomorrow (wiggidy whack weird!), and once again, the speed with which time flies terrifies me. The last couple of weeks of the semester are packed with 2 jobs, multiple assignments from various committees, packing, and trying to postpone thinking about the fact that this is probably the last semester I'll ever be living with my current roomates. I'd talk about that here, but we've made this unspoken pact in our apartment to not talk about it until we absolutely can't deny it anymore. And then we'll explode with sadness and tears and promises and confessions. But until then, it can just wait.
Hey, 22 days until Playmill. We visited the theatre this past weekend. David Walker, one of the actors/directors of Playmill is currently in the touring company of 42nd Street, and invited this summer's Playmill cast to come see the show in Billings, Montana. They paid for the tickets and the hotel, so this weekend, we all carpooled and went on a fun roadtrip to see the show. It was incredible, by the way. On the way home, we stopped in West Yellowstone to get some measurements of the stage and take inventory of merchandise. It made me even more excited for this summer. Although West Yellowstone right now looks the way Rexburg did in January...snowbanks up to the tops of cars. They say it'll be like that until the end of May. Which makes me want to cry. But it'll be worth it.
I got distracted...I was going to mention that it was a ton of fun to go on this trip with the Playmill cast. We all got to know eachother better and got to be better friends. I especially enjoyed getting to know the few people I didn't know that well before. Catherine, way cool and a good friend in the making; and Curtis, who is a ton of fun and became my favorite person on this trip. Not just "my favorite person who went on this trip," but "my favorite person ever." Of course, there are several people in my life who hold that title, but that's just me and my casual use of language.
Okay, I think I'm back on track now. And now that I am, I can't think of much more to say. It snowed yesterday, which made a lot of us really angry, but its gradually warming up again as the week progresses.
In closing, Travis Gugelman, a local photographer, and also the one who does all the publicity shots for Playmill, has a little shop in Rexburg. He had a photo up in his window for a few weeks, and I just found it on the internet. And I want it to happen to me on day. What a great picture, huh?

Love you all!

Thursday, April 06, 2006

"If one studies too zealously, one easily loses his pants." --Albert Einstein



A thousand curses upon my keyboard. I kind of apologize for the kind of boring picture, but I thought it added a nice sense of irony. Because I HATE my Mac right now. Not on the basis of it being a Mac, of course, but just because the keyboard and mouse have gotten to the point of only working approximately 2% of the time. Dad, I'm selling this machine. For as much as I can get for the evil thing. And then, after my several year haitus from college, I'll buy myself a new iBook and it will solve all of the world's problems.
Gee, this is sort of a grumpy post. I think I'm sick of estrogen. Not necessarily of my own, but just of being surrounded by it. Okay, maybe I take that back. I'm sitting around with my roomates and talking and I just looked over at Jenny, who was laying on her bed with two glue-gun sticks in her nose. Which looks amazing. As Jen added, too bad your nose can't get really hot.
Important update: I'm now single again. And it's okay. It was by my doing. I had an awful half-a-week debating and praying and trying to figure out what to do, and feeling terrible because I've NEVER had to break up with someone before. As in, like, dump them. But it was okay, he took it well, though not indifferently, and we parted having learned a thing or two, with a mutual agreement to avoid awkwardness and continue friendship. But I'm feeling a lot happier and less stressed and confused than I was before.
We had a last shindig of the year at Cindy's tonight. It was so great to spend time with everyone and laugh and banter and play. A lot of those kids are graduating soon, and I'll miss them like crazy. We, according to tradition, played "I've Never," and no matter how many times we play that game, we still learn something new about someone(s) every time. What a joy. I'm really excited about Playmill this summer. I love all those people so much. There was a really fun conversation toward the beginning of the night, a reminiscing of the greatest moments in Comic Frenzy history...what hilarious people I'm friends with. I feel so blessed. And I love Cindy. What a great Mom.
I've been feeling pretty blessed in general lately. I'm quite poor, but working hard, enjoying the things that I'm doing and looking forward to things I plan on doing in the future. I'm surrounded by wonderful people. I'm also really tired. Love you all, and I think this is it for today.

Monday, April 03, 2006

What the changes?!

I've decided after a year and a half to make a few changes to my blog. I like redefining everything every now and then. That, and I've got insomnia, and there's nothing worse for a slight identity crisis than insomnia. Perhaps I'll regret all this in the morning. Oh wait, it already is morning. About 3 o'clock in the, to be exact. Thanks to Jenalee Daines for the new title. She said that when we were about 5 years old, and its been in the family ever since.
Sorry to make you mentally or html-ly change the name of my blog. Or both.
You'll thank me for it in the end.
Love from an insomniac in Rexburg.

Thursday, March 30, 2006

"College isn't the place to go for ideas." --Helen Keller



Oh, I beg to differ, Helen Keller! These pictures are proof that college is the place to go for great ideas. If you could only see the thousands of others! Oh, sorry, that was in bad taste.
Helen Keller was blind.
So, the other night, I came home from a walk to find Jen alone in the bathroom, with a facial-cleanser beard, making faces at herself in the mirror. Just one of those impulses, I guess. But it looked way too fun to just giggle about it and go to bed, so I joined her and we took about 80 pictures and it never stopped being funny to us.
What a great weekend.
It's spring break here at the moment, so we've had lots of time to just be silly and lazy and eat lots of good food. Ashley and Kathleen are out of town, and we miss them, but to console us we have the company of Buddy the Rat! Our friend Christian is also out of town, and he needed someone to watch his pet rat while he was gone, so we're rat-sitting. Buddy is way cool. Here's a picture of him, hanging out on Annie's shoulder. And Annie looks like Amelie in this picture.

School was off Thursday and Friday, so it's a 4-day weekend. So far, we've:

Made and eaten chocolate trifle
Watched at least 4 movies (including The Beatles' "A Hard Day's Night")
Made fake beards and moustaches and taken pictures of ourselves (but you already knew about that)
Slept in until 1:30 in the afternoon
Blatantly disregarded unneccesary chores
Gone on long walks
Talked leisurely while listening to music in the kitchen (although we do that a lot anyway, but these times it had a different quality since it was during vacation)
Hung out with our temporary pet rat
Cooked luxurious meals like chicken curry and scones and eaten them luxuriously
Had a slow-motion kung-fu death fight
Discovered new balancing games on The Orb
Read whatever we wanted for as long as we wanted
Discovered that Annie can actually RUN on all fours...as in on her hands and feet. Really bizarre-looking.

Isn't that a wonderful weekend? It's just so gosh-darn pleasant. I had to work for part of it--until midnight last night--but coming home has been like...not working. Um, wait, lemme think of another way to phrase what I'm trying to say. It's like coming home after school on the last day of the school-year. Even though you still had to go to school, while you're there, you don't mind, and when you come home, it's almost like you were never at school at all. Because all that matters is that you have endless days ahead of you, filled with a staggering amount of possibilities. And home is almost bursting with freedom and happiness and laziness and doing whatever the heck you feel like doing!
Yeah, its more like that.
Even though it's only a 4-day weekend. (Aside--love how "spring break" at BYU-Idaho is 2 days off of school.) We usually have really nice weekends in my apartment anyway. But it's pleasant to sit there and look over the last 3 days you've enjoyed and think that it's still not over.
This weekend has also included several fabulous realities. Two today, one special and one just silly, but I'll share them both. Silly first. Today I was on a walk and as I was passing a house, I noticed a flag-pole in the corner of the yard. It was in the corner closest to the street, so I also noticed the small plaque in front of the flag-pole. So of course I leaned over to read it. It said, in gilded letters:

"ON THIS SITE, IN 1879, NOTHING HAPPENED"

Isn't that great? I was so happy. Okay, now special. It was just really cool, and I don't know if I can do it justice in words, but I'll give it a try. We were watching a movie in the living room this evening, and the living room lights were off. I noticed through a crack in the blinds a brilliant orange color. Now, Rexburg is known for it's gorgeous sunsets, and it looked like one of those famous ones. So I went to open the door and take it in for a moment. But when I opened the door, it was like another world. It was a gorgeous sunset, all right, startlingly orange tinged with pink, spreading over the clouds and taking up the entire western sky. But we were looking at it through a filmy mist of softly falling snow. I can't describe what it did to the light, or what it felt like to be a part of it. It was like this crazy Wizard of Oz kind of moment. To walk through a darkened, blandly-colored house and open up the door to a dazzling, completely different world. It was so surreal, like watching the sun set on a different planet or something. It was really cool.
We also discovered this weekend that there's actually an incorrect way to use a stethoscope. Like, as in, if you put the ear-things in the wrong ears, it doesn't work and you can't hear anything.
I thought it was a lie, but my roomates a nursing student and has a stethoscope and we tried it and its true.
Totally, bizarrely true.
To all you Mormons out there, enjoy General Conference tomorrow!
Good night, and good luck. Over and out.

Monday, March 27, 2006

"Objection! The way he moved his lips happened in one of my nightmares." -Brant, "Comic Frenzy"


Hiya friends! Decided on a little change of template. I've tried to do this several times before, and somehow couldn't manage to keep it this way. I think it'll stick this time. I also added a link to my friend Carrie's blog. She's fantastic...go read what she has to say about the world. (Hey Carrie, if you're reading this, you're fantastic. And hey, you were there for the story of the Lava Springs adventure, told later in this blog. Good times, friend.)
Just for the record, the day I discovered the hair similarities between John Lennon and myself was a pretty cool day.
So remember in my last entry how I decided that I'd throw unjustified guilt to the wind and have a great weekend anyway? Well, the moment I decided that, things got ridiculously fun. I decided that The Adventure of Saturday Night would be better told than written, so click to hear the story. (It was apparently longer than allotted for an audio post, so it's in two separate ones. But it's a great story.)
Lava Springs Adventure Part I
this is an audio post - click to play

Lava Springs Adventure Part II
this is an audio post - click to play

It was certainly a memorable weekend, and one that I look back on with fondness.
Sunday was tons of fun, because it was, at long last, the first Playmill meeting! I'm not even going to try to describe how much more excited I am about this summer. I think its reached an indescribable level. Indescribable...? Did I spell that right? Aw, screw it. Looks good to me.
We ended the night by heading into Rexburg and taking headshots and group photos, which took a long time but it was tons of fun. My favorite moments were as follows. The guys were taking their group photo and David Walker was sitting in the middle of the couch and they were all getting into place, etcetera, when 5-year-old Maggie yelled "David! Rip off your shirt!" It was fantastic! I love that kid. During the Merrill family portrait (Maggie's family, they own and run the Playmill), Maggie was being a goofball and we were all laughing, and Patti finally said "I think Roger and Heidi were drunk when they conceived her!" Another fabulous moment. And as every fabulous moment seems to also need an awkward counter-moment, there were a couple of those too. Jeff (my boyfriend...weird, still not used to saying that) is also going to Playmill this summer, so he was there for all of these goings-on. Our photographer Travis was arranging all of us for the big group picture of everyone, and as he was placing people, he said "Okay, let's see, we've got two married couples...you two (JD and Melissa), come and sit next to eachother over here and...you two (Adam and Andrea), come sit opposite of them over here. And do we have two people dating? I saw someone holding hands earlier...oh, you (me) and you (Jeff), come sit next to eachother over here." Travis totally did it on purpose to make us feel awkward, but we were all laughing about it and went with it. Travis is an amazing photographer, and I can't wait to see how the shots turned out. As soon as they're up on the website, I'll put a link up.
Well, I've got a interview with the Rexburg Opinion Center today...wish me luck. I'm also in a directing final scene with a few friends, and I've got to be memorized by tomorrow, so I better go look that over.
To close, the immortal words of Douglas Adams on the logistics of time travel:

"The Encyclopedia Galactica has much to say on the theory and practice of time travel, most of which is incomprehensible to anyone who hasn't spent at least four lifetimes studying advanced hypermathematics, and since it was impossible to do this before time travel was invented, there is a certain amount of confusion as to how the idea was arrived at in the first place. One rationalization of this problem states that time travel was, by its very nature, discovered simultaneously at all periods of history, but this is clearly bunk.
The trouble is that a lot of history is now quite clearly bunk as well."

May God bless you in all of your endeavors! All of you inspire me. Until next time, this is Liz, saying good night, and good luck.

Saturday, March 25, 2006

If you ever feel down, just think that out of 200 million sperm, YOU were a WINNER!


Hello friends! Isn't this a crazy picture? I can't decide if it's darling or disturbing. I think a little of both. But it's a baby, so that makes it mostly darling. For some reason last week was like "Kathleen and Liz intense baby yearning week." I guess it's still sort of carrying over. Oh, babies! Cute, tiny, squishy babies!
This, so far, has been one of those weekends. I can't decide if it's been great or horrid. There's been lots of fun, but it's sort of been tainted by the fact that I've got this awful cold, and I feel really guilty about calling in to work today and then having fun. Somehow, on matter of principle, it seems like if you call in sick to work, you should be too sick to do ANYTHING...smile, laugh, eat good things, enjoy time spent with friends or roomates. It's a little silly, but I can't help but carry around this terrible weight of guilt. Should I feel guilty? I don't know. If I'm supposed to, I could repent somehow. But if not, I could just enjoy myself as much as I can with a chest-cold. I've almost reached the conclusion that since I can't figure out which would morally and ethically be the right thing, maybe I'll just take a leaf out of Slartibartfast's book. "I say hang the sense of it and try to keep yourself busy." Tentative plan of action: Attempt to ignore my guilt as it's mostly unjustified and have a good weekend. It is, after all, one weekend. And in the grand scheme of things, most of the time, you're dead.
Playmill Meeting is tomorrow! Finally! It couldn't come soon enough. I've been hanging out a lot with the kids who'll be up there this summer lately, and I just get more and more excited and more and more incredulous that I'm going to be a part of it. Tomorrow we're taking headshots, signing contracts, talking and somehow it's all becoming more and more real. How on earth did this happen to ME?
It's a question I've been asking myself a lot lately.
So, life is grand and congested and occasionally complicated, but generally sublime. I think I'll take a nap. Or listen to some Danny Elfman.
MMMmmm, yeah.
Love you all more than banana ice-cream!

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

"The one great sorrow of my life is that I was born caucasion." -JD Taylor



This picture is of a Comic Frenzy show, during one of the greatest rounds of the dating game ever. That's Brant as someone I don't remember, JD as a Mexican jumping bean, and Jeff as Christian. Genius.
Okay, the biggest news items are as follows:

1) There's this boy. And I like him lots. And against all odds, it's mutual. Hizzah! My sister and I are currently dating guys with the same name. How fun. (I feel I should disclose that they are actually two very separate people.)
2) It refuses to be spring in Rexburg.
3) Christian got a pet rat named Buddy.

Oh yeah, and there are some amazing people in this world. I just spent an hour or so reading my sisters' and all their friends' blogs. What incredible people! They just blow me away with their wisdom and wit and capacity for just about everything great. You all rock my world.
I had a lot more to say, but do I remember it? No siree. Oh, I was also going to mention that I have TB or something. I feel fine, but I can't laugh or talk for very long without coughing my lungs out, and my voice is generally much lower than usual.
Golly, it's 2am. I think blogging time is over. I think its sleeping time now. Or at least reading time.
I close with the deep, inspiring words of Ben Parkes from a Comic Frenzy show this weekend:

"Being dead is like being pregnant...you crave stuff."