I Don't Even Know

Things have kind of been a rollercoaster as of late. When I last posted I just finished with one of the worst days I've ever had. It was the Saturday I was going to go horseback riding but ended up going to the teacher's workshop instead. I was up late that night so instead of going to the morning session I planned on the afternoon one. Well, I had some extra time before I needed to go to breakfast/lunch so I checked my email and homework on blackboard, only to find that I had missed an entire test. That's right. It was for my stupid night class and we had to take it online by Thursday and I had completely forgotten. I was devastated, I thought I was going to have to drop the class. I'm kind of a dork when it comes to grades and things so I was extremely upset and to be honest, if it hadn't been for Katie I wouldn't have made it to the workshop on time. I had to skip breakfast because I had been babyishly crying my eyes out in self-loathing. So it's 1:30 and I'm feeling sick because I haven't eaten anything and I forgot about that test and everything and I have to sit through this workshop. My piano teacher sat next to me. They had some muffins and fruit and cookies and things during the break and I tried not to be a total pig. I finally ended up leaving early because I just felt awful.

I had to endure the torture all weekend because my prof was out of town until late Monday. Finally I got to talk to her and found out that at least I wasn't the only one. I also sat down and did some math and I think my grade in that class is salvagable. So things were better than I'd hoped.

Then, the completely unexpected happened and I got some piano students! It's the pair I really wanted to teach. Their schedules didn't work with the other teacher's. I'm a little concerned because it's so late in the year, but I'm mostly excited. I'm in the process of choosing materials for them and it's quite fun. So that was really good news. But just when I was feeling really good about piano and all that...

I had the most terrible lesson. I had missed the last lesson through sheer business and was a bit late to this one, but confident that I had progressed. I'd been confident to give it a try in lab and, while it hadn't been perfect I thought it was okay for a first attempt. I thought my teacher would think highly of the fact that I'd done that so early. Nope. She was absolutely furious. I've never seen her so angry. It's as though she felt I'd tarnished her teaching reputation by playing when she felt I wasn't "prepared." I'd heard Judith's students play before they were "performance ready" a lot of times so I figured it would be okay. But no, she couldn't believe I hadn't checked with her (which I had, in my email to her) and through the rest of the lesson I could do nothing right. And it was then that I realized, she doesn't think I can do it.

It's the only explanation I can think of. She treats me like an afterthought. She feels obligated to explain the most elementary musical concepts to me. Half of me wants to believe her and just give up. Yes, I'm not as advanced as most of the other piano students. I never took from a high-profile studio or even from a well-established teacher. I took from a kind lady who knew a lot, believed in me, pushed me hard and was closer than an hour away from my house. But there are holes in my education. Big ones. And slowly I've been working to fill them. But maybe I haven't made any progress at all. Maybe I am just a big waste of time. Maybe I should just stop trying. That's the message I seem to get. The other half of me is just angry. Angry at myself for not working harder and angry at her for not having any faith in my abilities.

I don't know if she thinks I'm incapable, or if she just questions my work ethic, I doubt it's intentional but it definitely has been undermining my confidence, even moreso now that I've identified it. I remember when I told her I was a music major... She gave me this look and asked me if I was taking theory and ear training and whether or not I was doing okay in those classes. It was as though I'd shocked her. It's not as though I haven't questioned my decision to be a music major enough. I don't need this. Not when everyone I talk to asks me "what are you going to do with that?" and I can only smile politely and shrug. Not when I already agonize over how I'm ever going to pay off all my student loans. I hate loving music, and wanting to excel at it, and wanting to stay involved in it, and knowing that I most-likely won't be able to. It stinks. But however little I accomplish, this is one thing I have to pursue while I still have the chance. It's insane.

I don't dare tell her I'm teaching. I felt guilty looking over my students' old materials today. I kept thinking "I shouldn't be teaching you. I'm just going to mess you up." Somehow I've got to work up the courage to talk to Judith. Doubtless she'll be angry with me for taking on students this late in the year (what else could I do?) and doubtless she'll question every allowing me to teach after what apparently was my dismal attempt to play in lab.

That's enough of wallowing in my selfish misery. I'm going to go to bed now. Thanks for playing.

I really like this painting

So, thing's aren't so good right now. Hopefully they will get better. I'm not going to go into all that at the moment. I just thought I'd post this. We were analyzing art in preparation for my Europe trip and this is one of the paintings Dr. Strauch showed us.

Kasper David Friedrich, Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog

c.1818, Oil on canvas, 94 x 74.8 cm

Kunsthalle, Hamburg.

Maybe I liked it so well because I just finished reading Kidnapped.

"For all our hurry, day began to come in while we were still far from any shelter. It found us in a prodigious valley, strewn with rocks and where ran a foaming river. Wild mountains stood around it; there grew there neither grass nor trees." ~Kidnapped, by Robert Louis Stevenson

Harvest!

So I've been meaning to do this for a really long time. I was telling Katrina all of my harvest stories and I decided I'd better write them down to share with you all.

This past summer I drove swather and combine for an old family friend. As a farm girl, you'd imagine I'd know all about farming, but I never really got into the harvest part of it because it's really pretty boring and money wasn't a concern for me before my Dad quit. So I had some experience driving farm equipment, but not much. I'd worked the past 2 summers at the grain elevator and I just couldn't take it anymore, but you make more money working those long harvest hours so I thought I'd agree to driving combine for a change of pace. My Dad had worked for Chris for a while while between jobs so I had no problem getting a job with him (he's usually short-handed anyways).

Work started in late June with swathing. Chris is a grass farmer, one of the ones people on the news complain about all the time because he has to burn his crop stubble in order to make a profit. If I sound a little bitter, I am. It's not that I don't understand where these people are coming from, health problems are legitimate. At the same time people make it sound like field burning is just a luxury that allows a farmer to make more money. No. It allows a profit. Period. Wheat prices are the same as they were 20 years ago. Think you can make money selling lentils? Or even barley? Generally no,unless you have one of those hyper-mega farms, maybe then. Not that I'd call Chris' farm small. It's tough is what I'm trying to say, and since you can't make a profit feeding the world you do it growing golf courses. And you've got to understand that farming is more than an occupation. It's a way of life. It's something families do for generations. There is some sort of connection to that lifestyle. It's tough when a farmer is forced to quit. Especially when it's been in the family so long. My Dad was happy to quit and find an office job. Farming is tough. He likes having insurance and benefits and vacation time. He doesn't miss the stress of farming at all. And it was still tough. I could tell.

But enough of that. A lot of people get confused about grass harvest. It's not grass you harvest, it's the seed. You can then sell that seed to golf courses or people who want a front lawn or something via some provider. That's my understanding of it. In order for this to work, you have to cut, or swath, the grass at the right time and then let it cure in the sun for a while before harvesting it. And that's what I was doing in June and early July.

I don't have a picture of one, but swathers are quite a bit smaller than combines and way more meneuverable. I could hop on one and drive it around with no problem now, but it really was difficult to learn.

Aunt Janey

I went to the Symphony's opening night (guess who else tagged along... Actually I think it was Katrina's idea) which was fun. Khachaturian piano concerto. We went to the little "reception" they have afterwards because we ran into Laura's (yes the Laura who got married) parents. Her dad plays french horn. Anyhow, it was crazy because a lot of my profs are in the Symphony. Strauch (who's leading my Europe trip), and Rick Westrick (whom I met at Laura's wedding and who was as enthusiastic about my piano playing as ever :-D), and Dr. Phil. That's not really the point though. The point is I found out there was going to be a benefit concert for the Ayer-Blegen endowed chair.

Jane Blegen was my aunt. She was married to my Mom's brother and definitely a very important force in my life. Her mother was Evelyn Ayer, who I also got to see on holidays and the like. Both of them played with the Symphony as second-violinists.

I have to postcards from "aunt Janey" on the door of my room at college right now. I discovered them when looking through the various mathoms we keep around the house. The back of one says "Dear Heidi: Thank you for all the nice pictures you mailed me! They are all over my refrigerator door & they look so nice! Hope you had fun dancing tonite! Love, Aunt Janey." There's a painting of a man playing violin and a girl dancing ballet on the front. The other says "Dear Heidi, Thank you for your pictures - They are on my refrigerator now & I think of you each day: Love, Aunt Janey XXOO. P.S. This card is for you to keep. It is a print of a famous painting! P.S. Would you like to go to Sym-funnies? (I already found out you cannot this time - maybe later in Feb?!)" They make me smile every time I see them.

And I remember going to those Sym-funnies concerts. I was probably a little ancy like any other little kid, but I remember loving them! I remember they had the "instrument petting zoo" where you got to try out all these different instruments and when I was 11 I felt so proud that I could play the trumpet a little because I'd just started band. Aunt Janey is the person who introduced me to Pink Martini, and who invited me to the jazz violin concert with Johnny Frigo (which I loved, although I can't remember who played before him but that other guy was my favorite). She had offered to teach me violin but by then I was already taking piano and not really inspired by the violin because my siblings didn't play it. Now I wish I could have, but I'm a pianist and that's how it goes, I can't imagine not being a pianist.

More than introducing me to music in many ways, I associate her with the holidays, like Christmas and Thanksgiving. We would always go over to Aunt Janey and Uncle Brad's every Christmas and see all the Blegens. She was always the last to sit down because she was running around getting the butter or the salt or whatever had been forgotten. Her brother Larry would get so exasperated. "Jane, sit down and eat!" he would say, and we would all look at her untouched plate of food on the table and wonder how cold it was by now.

By the time I was old enough to really know her she already had skin cancer, so I don't remember when she was diagnosed, I just remember that she had it. She got it treated and it never seemed too serious, to me anyways, I never noticed anything wrong. But one year something went wrong, they didn't catch a growth or something and it went deeper. She told us at Christmas, I think the last time we had Christmas at her and Uncle Brad's house. The last memory I have of her, before she got really sick that is, is at an outdoor restuarant at a local park. She gave me a CD of The Four Seasons and I'm so glad that I'll always be able to associate my loving, vibrant aunt with that piece of music.

As you can probably guess, she did pass away; she died, if you prefer not to use euphemisms. She was such a large part of the family, it was strange to go to my cousin's for Christmas instead, and I think the thing I miss most is Larry yelling at her to sit down and eat. :-)

So I was really excited about this benefit concert. I remember when the Symphony announced the Ayer-Blegen endowed chair. They had a special concert for it. I don't remember the composer, but I remember that I was in junior high and definitely a music nerd by then, so I was fascinated by the slightly more abstract music. Anyhow, back to the present, my parents visited me a couple weeks ago and noticed I'd kept the flyer for the benefit concert. My Mom was going to be out of town for her job, but Dad ended up taking me. I felt like the only person under the age of 60 (although this was not entirely true) and I got to see some of my family. Best of all, my old piano teacher, Mrs. Presley, from when I first started taking was there! She was absolutely great, my brother had visited her recently and she was thrilled to hear I was taking jazz from Brent! I will have to go visit her soon. Don't let me forget. Jaen's sister, Julie played the violin for the concert, accompanied by none other than Mrs. Presley's son (who is a famous local pianist in his own right). It was great fun and rather fitting for me to see these two people, who were each connected to my own musical education, (Julie through Jane, and Greg through Mrs. Presley), playing together.

I'm afraid I can't tell you as much about Evelyn. I do remember one story that Clarey (Jane's father) told us before he passed away. I only remember it vaguely so I hope I'm not too off. He had gotten a band together but he needed a band leader. He knew that band leaders played the violin and he knew Evelyn somehow (they weren't married yet) so he asked her to lead it. She refused. So he made up flyers advertising the band and listing her as the leader. She was furious! But she did it anyways. She had to. :-)

Was this an appropriate thing to post on a blog? Probably not. It's probably better suited for a private diary or something of that nature. I feel a little wrong including it here. And yet I feel like I should be telling these stories. They're important stories, they give some idea of these people who are now gone. So thanks for reading.

I Want to Be Ye Olde Piano Teacher

So whatever I end up doing or not doing with music, I know there's one thing I will be able to do. I will be able to teach piano. That will at least remain a connection to the music world even if I don't find any other vocation or hobby that does.

The music department has a really great program that allows college piano students to teach other, beginning piano students and, since I'm on a small scholarship I'm eligible. So I was really excited to sign up for it this year. I had to pay a small fee to join the WMTA but I figured it was worth it.

So after I had registered and all that Judith gave me a phone number of someone who was looking for a piano teacher. They had a 9-year-old boy and a 7-year-old girl and I was really excited to meet my first piano students. Well I set up a meeting with the father and made sure I was prepared with all my interview questions. Well, the girl decided last minute she didn't want to take piano and the boy, when I met him, wasn't so very excited about it. Plus he couldn't seem to mind his father or sit still or do anything but I decided I'd be a little leniant because he was 9 after all. So after discussing whether or not he really wanted to do this we set up a tentative time for a lesson when the father informs me that his son has Asperger's and ADHD. Now I am somewhat informed about these conditions, I know what they are, and generally I wouldn't have a problem except... I've never taught before. I felt terrible but I had to explain that I probably, as a first-year teacher, wasn't the best choice for his son. It was unfortunate and awkward and I felt terrible but I'm certain I did the right thing. After all, you don't want to set up yourself or the child for failure. You want this to be a positive experience and the combination of everything just wasn't pointing in that direction.

So I told Judith about it and she gave me another number which I called. I was slightly nervous because these kids, 11-year-old girl and 9-year-old boy, had taken piano before, but not a lot. Well when I met them I was really pleased. They were both really enthusiastic about music and excited to learn and the mother was as well. It was a really good meeting. One problem. They were also looking at taking from someone else, they just weren't sure if she had room for them in her schedule. I told them I would love to teach them but to make sure and call me and tell me if they had decided to take from me or not. I was hoping to start teaching them this week. But they never called. I'm suspecting that, since the other teacher was more established, they were able to take from her and thought she was the better choice which is probably true. But I really wish they'd call me back. And I'm afraid that this means I won't be able to teach this year and I payed the registration fee for nothing. It's getting way too late in the year to start piano lessons, even if there was anybody still looking for a teacher. Sad. I'm actually extremely disappointed about this. I would love to have as much experience teaching as possible and unfortunately I'm losing a whole year of possible experience.

To add insult to injury something else happened. Every fall outdoor rec takes 10 or so people horseback riding. It fills up really fast, so I didn't get to go last year. I used to take horseback riding, if I could, I would own a horse. So this year I was bound and determined to go horseback riding and I ran over to the HUB at 7:00am (I wasn't sure when the info desk opened) and ended up waiting for an hour while eating breakfast and reading the paper. I was the first one to sign up and really excited. Well, I come back and what do I find. There's a piano teacher's workshop that very day and I'm required to go since I'm on scholarship... I e-mailed Judith about it thinking maybe there was another one some other time or something and got a very stern reply back. No there wasn't any other time to go to it, it's really important irreplacable opportunity for teachers etc. etc. So I decided I didn't need to be a whiny 3-year-old and I could ask outdoor rec for a refund...

But I AM a whiny 3-year-old. Not only am I NOT teaching this year, I have been robbed of my one opportunity to go horseback riding in years because of a TEACHERS WORKSHOP! The irony just kills me. So I'm really not happy about that. Sorry, this is kind of a depressing post, but I'm really not happy about that.

Swingin' at Ella's

So the other day... er, month... Katrina asked me if I would like to go to the local jazz club. I had been planning on going to the ballroom dance club's dance that night, but she'd gotten an e-mail from one of the ladies in the music office saying a virtuoso jazz guitarist would be there and we could get recital credit if we went. (I don't know why I didn't get this e-mail. After all, I am a music MAJOR involved in JAZZ while Katrina is neither :-P). So I decided I'd rather drive her to Ella's (yes, she wasn't just asking me out of friendship, she also needed me for transportation) than go to the ballroom dance and stand around in hopes of running into someone I know.

It was pretty nice and luckily the food was a lot cheaper than I thought, although that's probably because we didn't get dessert. It's an over-priced place, but that's because they have live jazz which totally makes up for it. We took as much time as possible ordering and then eating in order to listen to this fabulous solo guitar music.

We were by the window, but I could see out into the side lot while Katrina couldn't. It was kind of fun to watch whoever passed by. I noticed there was some guy with a large instrument case, as though he was carrying a bass or a cello. I mentioned this to Katrina with speculative remarks about what kind of rehearsal he was coming from. Then I noticed he was coming directly towards the building until I couldn't see him anymore. Wouldn't you know it, a few minutes later he was in the same room. Well that was fun, but it doesn't end there.

He seemed to be familiar with the jazz guitarist (and I'm really embarrassed I can't remember the guitarist's name). He would clap after each song and Katrina and I felt like bad people because we hadn't been clapping, so we joined in and eventually everyone else got the idea as well. After a bit the famous guitarist asked Parking Lot Man if he would like to sit in, which he did, and there was a jazz guitar duo. Katrina and I stayed for as long as we could but finally we felt we needed to go. We made sure to thank both musicians as we left though.

So when all the combos met to decide on when and where each group was going to rehearse each week things took a surprising turn. My combos bass player was also in another group (due to our lack of bassists) and the eventual solution was to change to the one combo leader who could play bass. And who might that be? Parking Lot Man! I was really surprised and I remembered to mention to him I'd seen him at Ella's. It was pretty fun.

Where Does the Weekend Go?

We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming to bring you this rant.

Where does the weekend go? I can't imagine actually having interesting things to do on the weekend. I don't, generally, and I STILL can't figure out why they're so short.

Friday I went to my German prof's house with several other students for some really good food. I love my German prof. She's amazing. She invited us to her house, baked us a homecooked meal of traditional German food (she's from southern Germany), introduced us to her family etc. Her family was just about the nicest family I've ever met and it was a great time talking about German culture and American culture and whatever else came up. Her husband loaned a, I'm guessing a book of Martin Luther, to one of my classmates who's a theology major. I thought that was nice. And I had a fun time making faces at her youngest girl while she made faces back. :-) Afterwards a few of us stayed and watched the Incredibles in German with English subtitles. It was pretty much amazing, as Smac would say. So that's what happened to Friday night, although if I hadn't done that I would have gone to the ballroom dance which I'm kind of sad had to be the same night. I've missed both the dances they've had so far. Ah well. It's not like I suffered.

So Saturday I slept in until noon, as is my custom. But that doesn't explain why I barely got any homework done that afternoon. The same thing happened today, although I really should have gone to Whitworth Pres and heard the Whitworth choir OR to St. Al's for another taste of chant mass and some Schubert sung by the Gonzaga choir. But instead I read Rick Steves for my Europe trip meeting this evening. After that I had dinner and practiced and went to the meeting and studied a little more and voila, it's 12:00 am on Monday... And I still have music theory and Writing for Mass Media stuff to do. Hmmmm, I'm really glad jazz combo has moved to Friday so I have time tomorrow. But I'm not sure if I'll be giving a piano lesson tomorrow or not. More on that later.

Anyhow, it just seems unfair. I mean, obviously you shouldn't be expected to study over the whole weekend! That's not the point of a weekend. And yet somehow it's either that or remain behind on your work. Blech. *le sigh*

So, my friend Laura got married

It's rather sad, I haven't seen her since the wedding. But it was a very nice wedding. I was one of her bridesmaids. Everyone made a big deal out of it because *gasp* I'd have to wear a dress. When will people realize I'm not a 12-year-old tomboy anymore and wearing dresses and make-up, while something I find to be altogether too much trouble, doesn't bother me. Too much.

Okay, so the dress was pink and floofy. Yes, floofy. And strapless. I was so scared it was going to fall off, but I was willing to wear it for my friend. And really, I wasn't even there when they picked them out, or bought the one I was going to wear. I didn't even know my dress size but I gave Laura a guesstimate over the phone. I hate buying clothing, so I preferred not to be there, but I was concerned they were going to get it too small. When it came it really fit pretty well, for the most part. It was kind of tight in a certain area. So we had this whole fiasco about how to fix it, but my Mom, who is really a pretty good seamstress no matter what she says, did just fine. I did feel like a dork in that dress though. I felt like a naked cupcake. Plus I had just about the worst acne I've ever had in my life at the time and the poor make-up people must've put 2 pounds of cover-up on my face. It's graphic, but it's true.

Laura looked absolutely gorgeous. She could've been a model for a bridal magazine. There was no one there to touch her as the saying goes.

The wedding was outside, in their back yard. This was initially done to keep expenses down, but Laura's mom later confided to me that she didn't think it had been any cheaper since they'd been working so hard to make everything look nice. But it did look nice, and it was very surreal for me to watch a close friend get married only a few feet from where we'd played as 12-year-olds not so long ago. I didn't cry. I don't generally cry at weddings, or funerals, or at anything worth crying at. I told Laura about my strange ability to cry over the stupidest things and yet my inability to cry when it's appropriate. She said that certain events are above simple tears, which made me feel like a better person. Although I've never really seen the point of crying at a wedding. It's an exciting, happy occasion. I understand that it's very emotional, but it doesn't seem to be that kind of emotion. I don't think I'll ever understand.

Laura's brother, James, was my escort or whatever you'd call it. His appearance is a little on the bohemian side. He has tattoos, a beard that Laura begged him to shave, and huge ear plugs. But he's a nice guy for the most part. Poor guy's already going bald and he's only in his early twenties. There were quite a few people there since practically everyone from the local church came. Some people had to stand in the back. And then there was the kitten.

This adorable little kitten showed up during the ceremony. It attempted to climb up the maid of honor, thoroughly distracted the flower girl and ring-bearer, and said hello to everyone else while crawling across their laps. They got it in some of the wedding pictures.

The reception was amazing. Laura hired my jazz piano prof, Brent, to play with his trio. I nearly went crazy because I thought we weren't going to get to dance to it. But we did. A guy from CYT who swing dances really well was there although he danced with the maid of honor most of the time, since she's a)gorgeous and b)a dancer. Still I got a couple in. I danced the rest with my Dad. It really was cute. I taught my parents the basic step and they did pretty well.

We were sitting and listening through one song and my Dad decided to request on of the songs he'd heard me play. Brent had asked me to sit in with the group but I didn't feel at all ready since I'd been on a combine and unable to practice. I had mentioned off-hand to my Dad that the only person who I would play for would be Laura. Well, Brent asked my Dad if I would like to play and the little rat told him that the only way I would play was if Laura asked me. So Brent immediately ran over to Laura who then ran over to me and so I was forced to play with the trio. I played 'Autumn Leaves' and it went fairly well. The trio members really liked it, which surprised me, it wasn't that great. But I am glad I did it. It was fun.

Other than that it was your typical idyllic wedding. The weather was perfect, everything went smoothly and now one of my friends is married. I think the reason it's not really weird is that I've already watched my brother get married off.

I could say a lot more really, and I'm probably leaving out things and not saying enough about other things but I need to go practice so that the next time I sit in with a jazz group I'll feel more prepared. And I should call Laura. It's awful how busy things get.

Where to Begin?

Wow, I have a lot of catching up to do. I think I'll start with college, and then once I have time, post about harvest.

It is nice being a sophomore. Being a freshman is crazy. You're adjusting to being away from home, you're adjusting to managing your own time while being surrounded by a bunch of strangers you don't know, you adjusting to sharing a room with one of those strangers, you're adjusting to college-level expectations, it's nuts. Now, as a sophomore, you've got it figured out. You've found your place, you still have a lot of time left in college so you don't have to worry too awfully much about what's coming next, I rather like it.

Oh! So I need to post about Laura's wedding! Drat. It'll have to wait. This is the problem when you get out of the habit of posting. Things pile up.

So first off, I've had a bit of a roommate fiasco. During the middle of the summer I got an email from the girl I was going to room with saying that she couldn't come back to college because of financial reasons. I think she is going to a public college this year and I hope things are going well for her but it was quite a shock. Housing let Katrina, Katie and me keep the room but they assigned a new roommate to us, so I was a little nervous. Katrina knew who she was though and everything worked out okay, but unknowns are never fun to deal with. Almost never.

As far as my room in Stewart goes, I really like it a lot more than I thought I would. It's really nice having three separate rooms, you have more space and privacy that way. It was kind of bare at first so the four of us went to the poster sale and bought some things to add some color. Along with the posters Katie brought a couch, Jenna bought a purple chair, Katrina contributed two tables and we have a small fridge, microwave, and freezer! It's exciting. Notice I haven't contributed anything yet. There's also a mirror, two hot-water heaters, and a coffee-maker. It's a pretty nice set-up. I bought the carpet for Jenna and my room, we just got it in yesterday so we're FINALLY officially settled. And Stewart is pretty nice, it's smaller than BJ and quieter for the most part. Katrina and Katie are huge broadway fans and usually Jenna and I can hear them singing songs from "Wicked" or "Les Mis" in their room. *grins* I love it. I also love borrowing from Katrina's music collection. She has SO MUCH! It's amazing. Jekyll & Hyde, the Scarlet Pimpernel, Mansound, Disney, fun stuff like that.

It's been odd not seeing the other girls from Jenkins East every day. I run into them around campus and we've set aside one day a week to eat together, plus a few of us are doing a Bible study. I really hope we can stay connected, they were such a help for me to connect to campus life.

My professors are amazing! I emailed all my professors before school started so I could get a heads up about books but my Writing for Mass Media prof, Professor Jackson, was the only one who replied. He was very nice and helpful and I was looking forward to meeting him. Well, I was one of the first ones in class (it's at 8:00... yuck) and after a bit he gets there too. He's your typical quirky professor, bald with a fringe of really messy gray hair, these huge glasses and a plaid shirt. He goes to the front of the class and addresses us with the usual "good morning etc." only, and I could not believe this, he has a British accent! It's SO cool! He grew up in South Africa apparently. I just think it's the coolest thing. Only problem is, I get distracted because I'll be listening to his accent and I won't listen to what he's saying... But it's SO COOL! I have a quirky professor with a British accent! And he's a really good professor too. He really cares about teaching and he makes it a priority to relate to the students. So if I had to have an 8 o'clock class, I guess that one's not bad. I'm kind of paying close attention to how I do in there and how I like it because I'm probably going to go for a journalism minor. Anyhow, I asked him to say the word "schedule" in one of my emails and I think I may have offended him. It's not to make fun of his accent I swear! It's just that I think it sounds so much nicer with the soft "sch." I wish I had a cool accent. Maybe I do. I'll have to ask someone when I go to Europe what they think.

My German prof is also amazing. She's from Germany and so she also has a cool accent. Once again, I have a hard time paying attention because I'm listening to her voice. So far she's brought german chocolate, gummi bears, and homemade German plum cake, and she's having us over to her house Friday for a traditional German meal. Afterwards we're watching the Incredibles in German. It's amazing.

I had auditions again this year and I'm in a jazz combo again. I have a funny story about that, remind me to post it. Unfortunately I didn't make Women's Choir although I did get called back this year. I have started student-teaching piano. More on that in a separate post. (Counts number of separate posts she has to make now...)

Hannah from CYT is in my dorm, which has been fun. We went to a Whitworth soccer game together. It was neat.

Okay so I'm running out of steam but hopefully this will give a brief overview and get me in the habit of posting again.

The Paper Is Lame

Drat, I need to find some more quotes. I've been trying to have a quote for every post but I'm in the library right now and I only have an hour until it closes. Since it's a small-town library it's only open until 4:00 on Saturdays. It's not even open every weekday. I have the schedule memorized. Tuesdays it's open until 7:00, Thursdays it's open until 6:00. Wheee. Now that you know that valuable piece of information I will also tell you that we've been getting a ton of rain lately. The fields flooded which isn't good for crop value, and a local town did as well. They were downstream from a sewage system. I'm glad I don't live there... We actually had some sun yesterday morning but that turned into evening thunderstorms. It's overcast now too. I'm really sick of gray. Don't get me wrong, I really really like clouds. They're fascinating. Especially when you're in the middle of nowhere. But variety is good.

So I haven't done much all week. I should have been terribly productive and finished the stack of reading for my Jan Term trip but I didn't. Yesterday I went on a great biking expedition (the word expedition should be used more often) behind my house. I found a place where I couldn't see any houses because I was down behind some hills. It was neat.

I'm going to a family friend's graduation party tonight. Um, yes.

Well, let's see if bashing the local paper is any more interesting than this. Basically, as the title says, our local newspaper is lamer than a lame donkey. Never mind about Iraq or Iran or Somalia, what's on our front page? 6th grade promotion. I do not lie. First of all, why does 6th grade promotion even exist? It's like in the Incredibles. They keep on coming up with new ways to celebrate mediocrity. I thought 8th grade promotion was dumb, much less this. But what can you do about overly-hyper suburban moms? It's the fact that it made the FRONT PAGE of the NEWSPAPER that makes me want to run away to, I don't know, London. I'd live in London. I mean, what a dumb story idea in the first place? That's something I'd expect to find in the little community newsletter that announces the Student of the Month or something like that. *shakes head in despair*

There was another article I was going to rant about, actually it deserved some serious consideration and thought. It was about death and prolongued suffering and it actually depressed me quite a bit but when they throw 6th grade promotion onto the front page I'm afraid I can't do anything other than laugh.

I Go To A Lot of Other Things

Well, I'm sorry I haven't updated this in a while. I'm also sorry I haven't read other people's blogs in a bit. I will come Tuesday I think, when I go to the library. So, I'll try and pick up what I left out.

I guess it would be the Friday before last that I went to CYT's production of Seussical with my Dad (yep, I'm still hanging out with my parents but what can you do?) It was a very cute show and I enjoyed it a lot. My Dad liked it so much he ordered a recording of it. I don't think I can really convey how much fun it was. I knew a lot of the cast and crew so at intermission I decided to sneak backstage (which is against the rules, but I'm a rebel *cue Mission Impossible music* B-) ) Anyhow, Clara was stage manager and she caught me and kicked me out rather quickly but she didn't catch me after the show when I went back. I know. I live on the edge. This is sarcasm by the way.

The following Sunday I went to my friend Laura's highschool graduation. She was Valedictorian of her class (yay!) of about 10 people from her rural public highschool. Makes my highschool look big. I graduated with 40 people. Oh little public schools. It seems like the smaller they are, the closer they resemble hell. That was not sarcasm. Needless to say, Laura decided to do running start and take some college classes for highschool credit. So, unfortunately that means that she's still in finals and stuff because they are on quarters. I love semesters. *hugs college* Anyhow, it had all the quirkiness of a small graduation. There was one girl, the Salutatorian, who got nearly every scholarship. There were more scholarships than there were graduates so I really felt bad for the kids who didn't get any. I think it was even weirder than my graduation, in which my principal gave the most depressing graduation speech I've ever heard. Anyhow, I know this is all terribly fascinating so I'll move on.

I guess the week following wasn't terribly eventful. On Saturday I was sleeping peacefully when my Dad woke me up and asked me if I wanted to go to Flag Day. Flag Day is my hometown's annual celebration and I'd completely forgotten about it. So I somehow managed to get out of bed and get ready on time. To kick off the festivities there is a parade that lasts all of five blocks or so. It starts with the little kids all dressed patriotically on bicycles or in animal costumes or something like that. That part is really the only reason to go at all because it's cute. The rest of the parade consists of a lot of cars, some of them actually being old and cool, and various political campaigners, and we actually had four floats this year. Plus my highschool band, which has disintegrated from 100 members strong to a handful of junior high students who can barely walk in a straight line. *coughs* The jazz band's still doing pretty well though, I'm happy to say. Well, after the parade there's a kind of fair thing but it's not much, so after getting a waffle cone we went home. Where I found my brother! He was unloading stuff in preparation for his move back to the area. It was nice to see him.

Today not much happened. My mom had some work to do which required driving out and surveying some farm fields. I came with my parents (yes, again! I'm cursed!) because they were going by, um, dang this is hard without specific place names. It's a butte, and the view is great. I don't know if it was worth 4 hours or so in the car but whatever.

I Go To A Memorial Service

Okay, so I've been holding off writing about this because I wanted to be able to give it the time and space it deserves. I don't think I'll say much actually. I will just ask you, and I really mean anyone who actually reads this, to pray for my roommate of this past year and her family because her dad died in a car accident Memorial Day weekend.

There's not much I can say about this. I found out two days after we returned from Seattle. My hallmates had been trying to contact me but apparently nobody had my home phone number so I received an email from Smoore and a facebook message from Smac. Smac told me that her and Libby were planning on driving to where Ally lives for the memorial service this last Saturday and said I was welcome to come. So I did. Let me just say that Ally and her family gave an amazing message and really gave a testament to their belief in Christ. It was very moving.

Anyhow, please pray in the coming months as Ally and her family try to cope with this loss.

I Go To A Wedding

Memorial Day weekend I went to one of those weddings I was talking about. My brother's good friend Kevin married my sister-in-law's good friend Jen and since I knew both of them I decided to tag along with my parents. Let me just say it's not very much fun tagging along with just your parents when you're 18. Don't get me wrong, I love them a lot, but I always feel like a loser when it's just mommy and daddy and me. Oh well.

Before I went to the wedding I realized I need to do some major shopping for nice clothes. I'm not one of those girls who likes shopping. It can be fun depending on what it's for but I absolutely HATE shopping for clothes. It's so hard to find things I like and then I have to go in the dressing room and look at myself in the mirror and try things on and it's just torture. I don't know why anybody likes it. But I barely have anything nice and even my dad commented that I was wearing the same stupid outfit I always wear (he didn't say stupid but...) I didn't get around to shopping beforehand but it's on my list.

You probably don't care about that though. Well, we drove to the wedding, which was far away (I hate saying specific place names on a public blog) and got to our hotel early. Our room wasn't ready so we had to wait, but I didn't really mind.

The actual wedding was nice. The reception was fun too. At first when everyone was waiting for the buffet (which was delicious) the DJ was playing some really great standards! You know, Frank Sinatra type stuff. I must admit, I'm a sucker for Frank Sinatra. Which reminds me. I found a really cool site a month or so back called Pandora. My connection at home it pretty much too slow to handle it but it's pretty sweet. You create an account and then you type in artists and songs you like and it finds music with similar qualities. It's a great way to listen to music and find new stuff. Check it out at www.pandora.com. Also, I apologize for using "they're" instead of "their" a few posts back. But I digress.

The point was that after a while they started playing music that wasn't swing, which was okay but it made me sad because I know how to swing dance and I would have liked to have done some swing dancing. It was so different from my brother's wedding because we hardly knew anyone, especially me. I felt a little stupid for coming but what else was I going to do? Sit at home in an empty house in the middle of nowhere by myself? I don't think so. I did get to taste champagne for the first time. I wasn't going to, but my sister-in-law's mom (by the way, when I say sister-in-law I mean my brother's wife. It's so hard to know what to call her. I don't mean to give the impression that I'm a weird married person who lives with her parents...) Anyhow, Jenny's mom forced in on me. I'm not sure if I liked it or not. I haven't been that exposed to alcohol to tell the truth. But it was cool to sip champagne, champaigne? I'm to lazy to look up the spelling. Then this weird guy came over. He said he was a Greek Orthodox bishop and he had the outfit and everything and he was quite the comedian. He even started up a traditional Greek dance later which was pretty sweet. And I did get my swing dance. More like Lindy Hop. The DJ played In the Mood and my brother taught me the basic step of Lindy Hop. It was fun. I was pretty sick of being a wallflower though, even watching my dad try to dance was pretty funny, so I was glad when we left.

The next day we drove up to Seattle (I pretty much can't avoid that one) and took a ferry to Vashon island, which was nice. I like salt water. Ooooh! Quote time!

The man was right who said that salt water was a cure for everything. In one of three forms, tears, sweat, or the sea.

That is from an awesome collection of short stories called Through Many Windows by an author named Arthur Gordan. Maybe they're sappy and sentimental to some, I don't know. I like them a lot though. I like how he just comes out and says things. For instance.

"Are you talking," she asked finally, "about living or loving?"
"You'll find there's not much of one without the other."

Some people would say duh to that but it makes me think... huh. Wow that sounded lame. Where was I? Oh, yes, Seattle. We had a terrible time finding Vashon island. It was awful. And I almost got hit by a double-decker semi-thingummy. That was not cool. Anyhow, we had a good time in the end and got back late.

I Found Things While Cleaning My Room

These are a couple of old stories I ran across while cleaning my room. I still haven't finished moving all my stuff back in... Anyhow, I'm not editing them at all, they're exactly what I wrote. I just thought it would be fun to share them because I think they're cute. This first one was written when I was 11... It's kind of embarrassing actually. I'd say it's a mix between Redwall, C.S. Lewis, and the Lion King...

HOAVE!
A story about lions

Chapter 1

Esulder walked into his tent. His wife Usundra had been reasonably ill. He had left to go hunting, and now was coming back to check on her. Staring into her face he saw that she was smiling at him. Nodding down to a bundle in her arms, she smiled back at him. Looking at the bundle Esulder saw that it contained a lion cub, but this was no ordinary lion cub. It already had a little bit of a mane. Smiling he asked

"what should we name him?" She answered in one word

"Hoave." A look of suprise crossed over his face. His son, named after the greatest lion warrior who had brought hope to Africa, but that night an army of tribals killed Esulder, and Usundra, and took the cub prisoner.

Chapter 2

The tribals were strange animals, who panted their faces. Some were gigantic lizards, some were red sort of birds. They were very evil, and wanted to rule Africa. So they attacked its animals.

The tribals leader was a gigantic dragon. It spewed fire when it was mad, and icy smoke when he was pleased. He had a line of brown fur across his back to the tip of his tail. He was colored black, and green, with fanges as sharp as spear points.

Hoave pushed his plow. A whip slashed across his back. Hoave thought hard, he didn't know where he came from, who his mother, or father were, what his name was, but he knew his father had been a great warrior, for the soldiers had spoken of him. He also knew that he wanted revenge on the tribals.

Chapter 3

One day when Hoave was about fifteen, he was pulling a cart full of tribals, when he stumbled on a rock, and fell down. This made the cart turn sideways, hit a tree, and fall over. Killing some of its occupants. The others got up, badly wounded. The captain handcuffed him saying

"your responsable for this, you will be killed at dawn."

"But it was an accident" Hoave protested.

"Shut up" the captain replied.

Chapter 4

Hoave shivered in the jailhouse. Chained up as he was, he was able to look at Africa out the window. The full moon shown down so he could see clearly. Dry yellow grass blowing in the soft breeze. The trees dotted here, and there, and bushes all around. This would be the last day that he would see Africa. He would have the fate of his father, his father! Suddenly a madness he felt within him told him not to give up. With a fire in his eyes he took a deep breath, and let out a blithering roar

"AROARALALIAR" it echoed off the walls.

Chapter 5

Then he began running fast, and hard. He hit the end of the chains snap! One chain broke. More running snap! Snap! Snap! Soon he was free. Leaping into the window he punched the metal bars with his paw breaking them. Leaping out of the window he landed in the moat with a splash. Swimming to the dungeon window he banged the metal bars with his paw making them break. Leaping in he freed the prisoners. Telling them to follow him he lept out of the window. Those who could swim did the same as he.

Chapter 6

Suddenly they heard someone say

"whats going on out there?" Soon a whole pack of soldiers ran across the draw bridge. In a flash the young would be warrior barked out orders.

"Go back, and help those who can't swim, I'll fight em off. The brave animals followed his instructions. As Hoave roared out a war cry

"AROARALALIAR" causing the soldiers to stop in their tracks. He charged at them slashing with claws biting with teeth he slayed many. A few leapords helped him.

"GRRARE" they growled as they started fighting.

Soon all the prisoners were free. Then a more army like group of prisoners started fighting

"AAAROOAARRAAALAALIIIAAARR"

the soldiers retreated. Hoave growled then fell down.

Chapter 7

Hoave awoke aching all over he looked around at his surroundings. He was in a tent, a fire was burning, and a baboon was applying herbs to his wounds. Then the baboon cried

"he lives!" Suddenly the tent was flooded with animals praising him.

"Oh what a brave lion he is!"

"He is amazing such strength!"

"He's as good as Hoave!"

"Lets call him that!"

"Hoave! Hoave! Hoooave!"

With that our story ends.


*laughs* Cute huh? Even then I was a sucker for epic adventure. Okay, I have one more that I wrote the same year. It's a lot longer but I think it's fun. It was part of a 6th grade writing exercise (spelling?) where we had to respond to a picture and an accompanying quote. Mine was a picture of a stream in a forest with a harp sitting on a rock and a boy and a dog in the background. It has illustrations but I don't have a scanner and that would be a lot of trouble anyways.

THE HARP
So it's true. He thought. It's really true.

CHAPTER 1: STORIES

Leroy ran along the street. He was going to see his favorite person, an old man named Chalisto. Chalisto was a wise old man who knew marvelous legends of times long gone. Leroy loved to hear these legends, they put a feeling of magic through him. He knew they weren't true of course, but it was fun to pretend that they were.

Leroy ran into an old rickety house. Only pausing to shout

"Chalisto it's Leroy" and then quickly walking through the front porch, and into the open door.

Inside the house Leroy walked into a bare room, the only thing there was, a rocking chair, fireplace, and an old throw rug.

The fire in the fireplace crackled casting shadows in the dark room. Sitting in the chair was Chalisto.

"Leroy!" Chalisto exclaimed. "What a pleasant surprise, you want to hear a story no doubt."

"Yes, please! I love your stories!" Leroy said hopefully.

"I'll tell you about the Magic Harp." Leroy settled down on the rug to listen. "This harp feeds a forest with love, and happiness. Without the harp all things there will die. The harp also gives it's magic to the forest. Beautiful creatures live there beyond compare. When it is played the most beautiful music is heard, notes of love and beauty come from it's strings."

"But who made it?" Leroy questioned.

"A great kind made it."

"What was his name?"

"What IS his name you mean, he still lives. I don't know what his name is. He has a lot of them though."

"But surely this isn't a true story."

"It can be if you believe in it." Chalisto looked Leroy in the eye. "I'm not lying boy, it's as true as you and me. Believe me and you will understand."

CHAPTER 2: THE FOREST

Leroy walked down a back alley in the town. He kicked a stone as he walked. His mind was troubled. How could something like that be true. It was a myth, wasn't it? The old man's eyes had seemed to mesmerize him. He hadn't known Chalisto to lie. Maybe Chalisto was playing with him, teasing him. It seemed as if it had to be true. Chalisto had acted as if he was in a trance.

"It has to be true!" Leroy said triumphantly. "It must be true. Chalisto wouldn't act like that if it wasn't." Something that magical, true? It couldn't be! He thought. But it must be. He wanted it to be true.

Then, he noticed his surroundings had changed. He wasn't in the back alley anymore. He was in a forest. It was beautiful, marvelous, magical. But where did it come from? Where was he?

CHAPTER 3: THE HARP

Back in his house Chalisto wondered, would Leroy believe him? If he did, would he be able to overcome the danger that threatened the forest? Chalisto wondered.

Leroy stared about him. Fluorescent greens from the trees seemed to shine down on him, mixed with the light browns of the thick over hanging tree trunks. Vegatation loomed everywhere. Beautiful flowers grew there, with colors I couldn't even describe.

"Who are you?" a voice questioned.

"Who's there?" Leroy said shakily. A dog stepped out of the shrubbery.

"I'm here." Leroy stared at the dog.

"You talked!" He exclaimed.

"Of course I talked, you talked and your not amazed of that. I can see your new here."

"Yes, I'm new here, but you talked!"

"Would you get ober it. You're acting as if I shouldn't be capable of talking."

"Sorry, it's just that, where I come from animals don't talk."

"Well you aren't where you come from, are you? Not every place will be exactly like your world ya know."

"Of course, how silly of me." Leroy realized that he was in no ordinary forest. "I'm a little thirsty. Could you lead me to some water?"

"Sure, we're quite close to some now, look." Leroy looked up ahead, and saw a breath taking sight. A stream, but no ordinary stream. It seemed to make music, as it trickled around rocks, and splashed quietly down a small waterfall into a pure turquoise blue pool, of great depth. Ripples on the surface seemed to be magical. But this is not what took Leroy's breath away. Sitting on a rock, in all it's beauty and magic, was The Harp.

It seemed to shine like the sun. It's strings made of only the purest water-like substance. The top of the harp bending it's way up looping itself over the bow-like front. It certainly looked magical.

Then Leroy realized what this meant. This was the harp Chalisto had spoken of. This was the forest. He had believed, and it had become true.

So it's true! He thought. It's really true!

But suddenly a shadow passed over the harp, and then it was gone.

CHAPTER FOUR: THE WOLF

Leroy gasped. What had happened to the harp? Then he noticed it. The forest was different.

The trees that were once full of life turned gray and died. Flowers wilted, the stream went dry, and slowly but surely the dog began to disappear.

"What's happening to you?" Leroy gasped.

"The harp is gone, I am leaving."

"Where?"

"To your world. I will become dumb, like the animals there." The dog's voice became a gasp for air. "The other creatures here," he continued, "will be put into slavery, and..." He gasped for breath, "Replaced with horrid creatures that will take you prisoner. You must leave." With that he was gone, just like the harp.

Then Leroy gasped again. Taking the place of dog, was a blazing red eyed wolf! Leroy could hear Chalisto's voice inside his head.

"Run!" It warned. Leroy ran for his life, as the black wolf chased him. He couldn't make it. The wolf was to fast. Leroy tripped over a tree root, he scrambled to his feet. He could feel the wolve's hot breath on his neck.

Then he saw an over-hanging branch. It would make a good staff.

Leroy had often used staves. He had practiced every day. Now he had to use one, if he was going to survive.

He grabbed the branch off the trunk with a SNAP! Turning he dealt the wolf a hefty blow, swinging the staff left and right. He hit the wolf across the back! The wolf lunged at him, digging it's claws into Leroy's shoulders! Leroy used the butt of the staff to hit the wolf in the head. The wolf howled with pain! Leroy's shoulders ached. Pain shot through him like a flash of fire! He struck out! The wolf caught the staff in it's mouth, and broke it with a CRACK!!! Leroy went down under the wolf!!!!!!!!!

CHAPTER FIVE: THE BATTLE

Leroy groaned. Where was he? Everything was black. A dark shape moved past him. Then he saw something frightening! All around him were hideous creatures, armored to the teeth.

Leroy reached for the skinning knife he kept in his belt, but instead of a skinning knife he pulled out a sword!

It was a plain sword. It was really long! Long as a staff!

Leroy gripped the weapon in both hands.

"Let's fight boy!" Leroy looked up. There in golden armor, was Chalisto! His armor matched the sword. It cast a glow around them. Leroy had never seen anything like it!

"Chalisto! What are you doing here?!"

"No time to talk, only time to fight. This is for the land I once lived in."

Leroy couldn't believe it! So that's how Chalisto knew it was true. He had lived there.

He turned back to the creatures. He was filled with fright.

The creatures charged! Chalisto charged! Leroy gulped, and flung himself into the fray.

Chalisto's mighty battle axe was swinging in a blur, flaying left and right. Leroy was surprised that a man so old could fight so well! Then Chalisto called out

"I cannot help you anymore! You must finish this yourself!"

Then, from out of nowhere, a poisoned arrow hit Chalisto, and he fell down under the creatures! Then he disappeared.

CHAPTER SIX: THE BEAST

O.K. Leroy thought. Chalisto wants me to do this by myself. I'll make him proud. Swinging the sword, he plowed through the army of creatures! Then a hideous beast stepped in front of him! It was humongous! It's weapon was a strange devise. The handle was a huge club! A spear point was on the bottom. The blade was a sword blade that curved into an axe! The creature raised his weapon and they began to fight! The creature hit Leroy with the club, and poked him with the spear! Leroy swung the sword, but the creature blocked!

Then Leroy saw the harp! This put a fresh burst of energy through him! Leroy faked a move, then slashed the creature! The creature swung the axe, and Leroy knew he was a gonner, but the axe clanged harmlessly off! Leroy looked down, he was clad in golden armor, just like Chalisto's. It must be magic, Leroy thought. Then he looked up and began to stab wildly. The creature tried to get Leroy, but Leroy blocked him. Slashing, stabbing, and swinging Leroy forced the vermin to the ground! Then with one swift stroke, the creature vanished! All that was left was the rags the creature had been wearing.

CHAPTER SEVEN: THE END

All of the creatures vanished. The forest began to materialize around Leroy and the harp. A man dressed in purple robes approached Leroy.

"Welcome!" He greeted. "I am the prince of the forest. You have defeated the darkness.

"I suppose you want me to explain everything. I will.

"The darkness has been trying to destroy us ever since Chalisto was a boy. He was awarded the position of the Golden Knight for a brave deed he had done. When he got older, he was no longer able to protect us. He had to choose a young boy to take his place. He chose you. I didn't think you could do it, but you did."

"What about the sword?"

"Chalisto slipped his sword into your belt, you couldn't have fought with a skinning knife.

Now we have a new danger. We are constantly threatened. You must take Chalisto's place."

"I will." Leroy vowed.

EPILOGUE

Archie ran into an old rickety house, only pausing to shout,

"Leroy it's Archie!" He quickly ran through the open door.

"Archie" Leroy exclaimed, "What a pleasant surprise!" The old man sat down. "You want to hear a story no doubt. I'll tell you about the Magic Harp."


Awwww, that ending's so cute. Fun times. I loved making up stories like that. I just usually didn't finish them. Well, there's a little glimpse into my childhood. Hope you enjoyed it if you read all of that.

Weddings and Other Matters

Here is an interesting quote from Charlotte Bronte that I've also put on my facebook account.

Conventionality is not morality. Self-righteousness is not religion. To attack the first is not to assail the last. To pluck the mask from the face of the Pharisee, is not to lift an impious hand to the Crown of Thorns.
These things and deeds are diametrically opposed; they are as distinct as is vice from virtue. Men too often confound them; they should not be confounded: appearance should not be mistaken for truth; narrow human doctrines, that only tend to elate and magnify a few, should not be substituted for the world-redeeming creed of Christ. There is-I repeat it-a difference; and it is a good, and not a bad action to mark broadly and clearly the line of separation between them.

I think that quote is particularly to the times we are living in now. This does not mean I support the various attacks on conservatives etc. Not at all. I'm fairly conservative myself. I just think it's an important thing to remember as we become inextricably tangled with problems in the Middle East and with other complex issues. We must always remember to follow God's Truth and the teachings of Jesus Christ, to place that above whatever political or personal motivations we may have. And that means WHATEVER. No matter how strongly we are entrenched in the Republican Party, or the Democratic Party, or various conservative or liberal ideologies, or convictions about sticky subjects we must remember Christ's teachings and we must put Him first. He knows better than we. I don't know if this makes any sense, but hopefully you realize that what I'm saying is not intended as some liberal fluffy "tolerance" mumbo jumbo or some hardlining legalistic narrow-minded rhetoric. I genuinely do believe this. It's not easy, and it's something I struggle with. I will leave my pulpit now.

Oh dear this post is going to be one long rant. I've been wanting to post for a long time. First of all, why is it people who write introductions always assume the reader has read the book!? Sure, it is Jane Eyre or Sherlock Holmes or Shakespeare but I certainly can't boast of having read all the classics and I'm sure a lot of people older than I am are the same. They should put they're detailed plot analysis at the end of the book when we can be sure we'll know what they're talking about instead of going on and on about the significance of the red handkerchief in chapter 5 or what have you. Wow I really am in a preachy mood right now. I think part of it is just that it feels so right to type a blog late at night.

Okay, so as to the title of this post, there are a lot of weddings this summer. I will be going to two I think and my parents are attending about four. I think I mentioned that my friend Rachel is engaged, which is slightly weird but not entirely unexpected. Well, the other day I learned that another very good friend of mine is engaged and I must admit this one freaks me out a little more. I mean, this is the type of thing that's supposed to happen in my mid or early twenties at LEAST. Not while I'm still 18. It's freaking me out a lot. I keep wondering who's next. Actually, I'd like to ask for prayer for each of these girls, especially Laura who is my age. I don't like to get too specific as this is a public blog but I want them both to be happy and to make the right decisions. This kind of thing makes me feel old.

Other than that things have been fairly quiet. Kind of. My brother and his wife will be moving back to the Spokane area but they don't have jobs over here so my parents are kind of nervous. Milo's eye has been healing and the subsequent trip to the vet was much more peaceful. I've been keeping myself extremely busy just with various things. There was a potluck in church on Sunday so I got to see a bunch of people. I actually made it to church early. I forgot when it started so I thought I was late and really I was an hour early! I need to do that more often.

I've been trying to pick up some Italian before I start driving combine. It's in preparation for my Europe trip. I dreamt I went to London the other night... I'd like to but it won't be on this trip. I have a pile of suggested reading on the floor right now. Currently I'm reading I, Claudius by Robert Graves. I'm really enjoying it. Historical fiction. I don't know much about Roman history so I have to be careful I don't take too much of it to be fact but it is very interesting and hopefully I'll read some legitimate Roman history afterwards so I know what is fact and what is fabricated. I'd also like to recommend the movie Tea With Mussolini. A lot of the reviewers on Amazon say it doesn't have much depth but I thought it was a good film and had a few things to say about protecting that which you love. Maybe not very profound things, but then again, any time you're battling self-love, or more accurately, selfishness, I think there's a lot to be said. Maybe it's my Christian worldview.

Well, I'm getting tired and running out of things to say, amazingly. I'm sure I'm forgetting a lot of rants and raves I've thought up in the past few days. That's what you get for procrastinating. It's almost midnight and I should go to bed, so until next time I'll say

Arrivederci. Oh dear I hope that's spelled right, it's Italian for 'goodbye'!

Stray Cat Strut (or, Fun With Kitty)

My dog thinks he's human and my cats think they're gods...

The Egyptians worshipped cats as gods. Cats have never forgotten this.

Okay, so this post has nothing to do with stray cats. I just chose that name because I'm listening to that song by the Stray Cats... This post does have a good deal to do with one of my 2 cats though. Her name is Milo, which I know is a boy's name, but we got her with another yellow tabby and decided to name them Milo and Otis after the movie. I think I was five. My friend Rachel's (yes, the same Rachel that visited the other weekend) cat had kittens and so we took home two. Being five, I wasn't the best at handling cats, poor things. Otis got hit by a car a long time ago (which was sad but to be honest I really don't remember it that well) but Milo went on to have kittens of her own (my parents were thrilled...) We kept two of the kittens (I wanted to name the kittens Orange, Orange, Black, Orange, and Orange...) and my sister named one Muchacha because she was taking Spanish at the time, the other was named Motormouth because he purred so loudly. Motormouth passed away a few months ago so now we just have Milo and Muchacha.

Anyhow, so much for pet history in brief. When I came home I noticed Milo had a bad eye. This has happened before so we figured it would clear up in a couple of days. It didn't. My Mom, who is returning from her work thing today, obviously couldn't take Milo to the vet and my Dad is at work all day so guess who got the job?

Here's the thing about Milo. She hates the car. She had only been in it once before and that time she went CRAZY! I thought I was going to get killed by this flying ball of fur. And she'd never been to the vet before. AND we didn't have a kitty carrier. Great. So I found an old t-shirt to, erm, constrain her with (you call it animal cruelty, I call it life preservation) and threw that in the car. Then I had to find the cat, who was outside of course. After searching for a long time I decided to break out the big guns and got some special cat treat to lure her in. Well I stepped out the door and there she was on the porch. I didn't need the stuff after all. So, with many apologies I picked her up and took her out to my car. She gave a few inital meows of protest and as we neared the car these intensified into a frenzy... She began to squirm around but somehow I got her inside and shut the door.

She went NUTS. I had never heard her make a sound like that before. This loud kind of yowl... Well I put her in my lap and calmed her down a little and after a while decided to try moving the car forward. She did not like that at all so I went about 1mph for a while and then slowly got going faster until I'd pulled out of the driveway. About that time I realized that my car had no gas. Great. Luckily living on farmland means we have our own pump but that still meant I had to reverse the whole way I'd come and get OUT of the car while keeping the cat IN the car (which wasn't very cool even though I had the air conditioning on max) and fill up with gas. Okay, after that ordeal we got back on the road and I had to wrap her in the t-shirt (poor thing, it was so hot) and restrain her with my left hand while trying to drive with my right hand. Did somebody say "car accident?" The local vet is about 30 minutes away using the highway. Somehow I kept her in my lap. I tried to distract her by scratching her head and petting her and talking to her and I even put on some Vivaldi. I don't know if it helped the cat at all but it certainly did a little for my nerves.

Well, I was almost into town when guess what? We ran into construction! JUST what I needed. Poor Milo was so hot, she must have been at least as uncomfortable as I was. The wait wasn't too terribly long and amidst louder and louder complaints from the poor cat we pulled into the parking lot! The next challenge was getting cat from car to clinic without losing said cat. I took the t-shirt off because I figured she needed to cool down. Then I got a firm hold and made my way slowly to the door. Once inside the vet (the small clinic has one vet and one assistant as far as I know) looked up and said "Loose cat! Oh no! Get her to the consulting room quick and shut the door." I didn't need to be told twice. Once in the room and on the examination table Milo complained more than ever. She was panting a lot because she was so hot and I wondered if this trip was going to do her more harm than good.

Once the vet came in things got considerably easier. I got to be the assistant because the real assistant was busy but it wasn't difficult and mostly was making sure the cat didn't scratch anyone. Apparently Milo has a scratch on her eye and it's infected. That could've led to her losing that eye if we hadn't brought her in so I'm glad we did. I got a lecture on the importance of feeding her meat-based food but hey, I don't pay for the cat food so I don't really have much of a say. Milo got wormed and some antibiotic to put on her eye. I write this as if everything was fine and dandy but the whole process was quite exciting I assure you. I also bought a carrier. On the way out I realized I'd forgotten to put my checkbook in my purse but I have to return on Friday so I'll pay then. The carrier made the trip home much less stressful even though it was just as noisy. We had to wait 15 minutes for the stupid construction but I was okay with that since kitty wasn't going anywhere.

So that was my exciting day and it pretty much almost killed me. Now we have to go through an ordeal of putting stuff on Milo's eye FOUR TIMES A DAY. It's not easy. But hopefully we'll do okay and that scratch will heal up.

Summertime, and the Livin' is Easy

fish are jumpin'
and the cotton is high.
Your daddy's rich,
and you're momma's good-looking.
So hush little baby don't you cry.

~Ira Gershwin, Summertime

Yes, it's technically May but I have officially completed my first year of college. I don't think it's quite sunk in yet. I'm sorry I haven't posted in so long but it's been pretty crazy. Finals went pretty well, I don't know how I did yet but I think I'll be okay. Friday was terrible. Everyone was leaving and I had to try to focus on a final at 3:30! Do you know how hard it is to study when you have to keep taking breaks to say goodbye to friends you won't see for 3 months? It was SO sad! And depressing. And my room just gradually got stripped bare until you wouldn't have known anyone had ever lived there...

I think the most bizarre thing was saying goodbye to Christina while I was still trying to take my history final. I may never see her again and yet here I am trying to write a short essay on Islamic and European culture in the Middle Ages... Bizarre. She's is transferring out of Whitworth and I wish her all the best. We'll keep in touch, but it won't be quite the same as seeing her every day in class. But I will see a lot of people again next year, and I'm excited for that.

After my final I was extremely glad to find my parents in my room. It felt good to be done and it was nice to have help packing things up. We went to the China Dragon for dinner, which was fun, and then for more multicultural entertainment we went to and Irish dancing/Celtic music concert. Check out their website here. I really like the band and the dance troupe. It was excellent. Afterwards though I had to go back to my room, which was now as empty as a prison cell, and stay overnight so I could check out in the morning. True, I could have done it that afternoon if we hadn't gone to the Celtic thing but I didn't want to. I felt kind of guilty because that night was also the closing concert of this season of the Symphony. Worse yet, the concert master (whatever) of 40 or so years was retiring AND my family knows him personally. Hm. So maybe I made the wrong decision, but really we don't know him so well that he would have missed us.

It was pretty eerie that night being alone in my room. The next morning was quite weird as well, but I finally got out of there and home. I'm glad to be done for the year, I was ready for a break.

Well, I hadn't been home for too long (I was unpacking my stuff from my car) when we got a phone call from some very old friends of ours, Anne and Rachel. Rachel and I were just about best friends since infancy but we've lost touch recently. I was really excited to see her and really hoping things were going well. She's a few years older than me so I wasn't sure if she was in school or working or what. Anne and my Mom used to be good friends as well.

When the pulled up, it was in a small yellow convertible. A "Mid-Life Crisis Mobile" as my parents would call it. It was great to see them and Rachel and I found a lot to talk about. Not only is she going to another university in town (turns out I've been driving by her house a lot!) but she recently went to Japan on a study tour! As if that weren't enough, she's engaged! I don't know the guy and they haven't set a date but I hope they'll be very happy. It's kind of weird though, knowing your childhood friend is getting married. It was so great seeing her again though, it really was the best possible way I could have started my summer.

Sunday was of course Mother's Day and I am a terrible daughter! I didn't get her anything, not even a card! I'm trying to make it up to her by doing as much around the house as possible (she's actually away on work) but I still feel bad. Since she had to prepare for her trip, she decided all she wanted to do was go out to eat. She couldn't decide on where but I sure wasn't going to decide for her. We looked through the entertainment section of the newspaper and found a bistro that sounded good but unfortunately when we got there it wasn't quite what we were expecting. So we decided to go to Anthony's, a really pricy seafood place. We had to wait a while and while we were waiting we went and looked at the falls. It was a very nice walk.
The food was delicious and I definitely want to go back sometime. I love seafood.

So that leaves this week, which is pretty low key. Our little library just got wireless internet so I'm taking advantage of that. I'm here because I need to check out a lot of books on Italy and Germany. I'm not sure about the best way to tell you guys this but I figure you'll find out sooner or later so I'll just say it, I'm going to Europe next January. Rome, Florence, and Berlin. *grins* I'm glad I'm going in January because even though it won't be as nice (especially in Berlin) it won't be touristy. Anyhow, I just couldn't keep the secret to myself any longer. I'm so excited. But I can wait. I'm content with the present. I'm going to try and learn a little Italian this summer and I'm taking German next fall. I won't be able to say much but hopefully I'll be able to communicate a little. I think it's terrible how some people expect foreigners to speak English and accomodate them. You're in their country and what's more the point is to experience their culture. Besides, Italian and German are so beautiful. Anyhow, I guess that's all for now. Until next time.

Traditiation

It is almost the last day of my freshman year of college. I did not have this blog at the beginning of the year but I thought I'd share about Traditiation before I get old and forget about it.

Basically my first day/week at college was a combination of terror and excitement. I really wanted everything to go well, to like my hallmates, my classes, my profs, and to do well. I'd talked once with my roommate Ally and she had seemed so afraid that I would be a freak that I was afraid I would be a freak, if that makes any sense. Anyhow, my parents and I drove up with all my stuff. We came later in the day and I was one of the last people to arrive. On the sidewalks in front of BJ was a chalk drawing of the world accompanied with the words "Welcome to the best place on Earth!" I remembered that that was exactly the same as it had been when my brother moved in to Whitworth back in 1998. A lot of things around Whitworth don't change much.



Inside the main doors were a bunch of enthusiastic people with a lot of lists and one of them showed me my room. The halls upstairs were all decorated with paper-mache flowers and our doors had our names on them. I don't think Ally was there when I arrived but her stuff was mostly unpacked. I remember thinking she had a lot of clothes and I didn't have very many and feeling awkward. Shortly after we began unpacking Ally, her parents, and her boyfriend Michael came and they were very nice although I must admit at the time I was feeling slightly overwhelmed. I just wanted to finish packing by myself... I liked them, I just was feeling intimidated.

There were a lot of things to go to, including some sort of reception in front of the auditorium where you were supposed to meet president Robinson. I never met him, although my parents did. I did meet one of my hallmates though, Keiley. I didn't know it at the time but she was going to be a great friend. Somehow we started talking about music and she asked if I was musical. I said something along the lines of 'yes.' "Oh! I am so not!" Was her reply. Like it was this great thing we had in common.

Freshman move in a week before everyone else so they can get acquainted with one antoher and campus and so forth and part of the way you do this is Traditiation. There's a sort of loyalty present in each of the dorms and each dorm learns dorm-related cheers that they later run around campus yelling. We learned...

I say red, you say black!
Red, black, red, black!
I say Whitworth, you say love it!
Whitworth, love it, Whitworth, love it.
I say BJ what do you say?
We love BJ all the way!

We are the BJ ladies and we're steppin' for you,
ultimate crowd pleasers here to please you.
Representin' all the BJs across the world,
now don't you want to step with the BJ girls!

and also my personal favorite,

Squirrel, squirrel, squirrel,
shake your bushy tail!
Squirrel, squirrel, squirrel,
shake your bushy tail!
Wrinkle up your litte nose,
put it down between your toes.
Squirrel, squirrel, squirrel,
shake your bushy tail!

That's because there's a lot of squirrels on campus.

The first or second night we were taken to the pirate's cove and told to close our eyes. Then we were handed a BJ girl's "beanie" while the history of the dorm was recited. We were supposed to wear them all week long and if anyone asked us "what's that on your head?" we had to touch our beanie, spin around, and recite...

Spin me, twirl me, make me sing,
Red-black beanies are my thing!

Whilst we were running about campus looking and sounding like idiots, we would encounter the guys from various dorms. Apparently it is some kind of tradition that they are supposed to "woo" us by singing us a song (most of them were quite good) or reciting something. I always felt kind of awkward and stayed in the back but it was fun to watch.



The BJ guys would get especially elaborate. Here's a picture of them singing "A Whole New World" from Aladdin...



Once, we were taken to pirate's cove and the BJ boys were waiting for us. They formed a circle, and we formed a circle on the outside, and then we had to run in opposite directions. When we stopped, we were told to sit on the knee of the guy we were next to. This guy was our "perch" and we were they're "bird." They sang us a song. That's my perch standing on a table or something in the picture above. I was afraid of putting too much weight on him and my knees locked up and when we were supposed to get up I fell over. It just added more embarrassment to an already awkward event...

Once the boys had performed their song or whatever, we were supposed to respond. We usually sang "You Are My Sunshine" but we had a couple other songs as well. At the end of the week there was Mock Rock and Yell Off. Yell Off was a competition between all the dorms where they would compete by yelling their various cheers and basically the loudest/best wins. Mock Rock is basically the most elaborate lip-syncing contest I have ever seen. This is a picture of my hall before Yell Off. I'm not in it because I'm camera shy and I ran away.



So that's the basic idea of Traditiation. A lot of people say it's their favorite memory of their first year at college. It was a lot of fun, but I think there's a lot of things I'd choose over it as my favorite. Still, it does help you to kind of get to know people. For me, nothing can replace simply spending time with people and gradually getting to know about them. Anyhow, that was a lot of what my first few days of college were like. Craziness. Sometimes I wondered what I'd gotten myself into. Luckily college isn't always like that.

Frustrated Pianist

“When she started to play, Steinway came down personally and rubbed his name off the piano.”

~Bob Hope

Yes, that was me today. Except I think the piano in the recital hall is a Yamaha. I actually made some sort of guttural growling noise/yell during my jazz jury today. But let's back up.

Wednesday has come and passed, and with it Music Theory II. I think the final went really well so here's hoping I get an 'A' in the class. Sure would be nice seeing as I got an A-/B+ on my jazz jury which is frankly better than I expected. So that's cool. Today was classical juries! Ahhhhh! The good thing is I was a lot more calm and composed than my first jury. And there were some really good spots. There were also some really bad spots. So I know I didn't get an 'A' but hopefully I made a 'B.' I was excited because they asked me questions I knew the answers to! I practically gave a dissertation on Debussy's "Children's Corner." I told Keiley that and she thought I was saying "W.C." It was quite funny. I played the stupid natural minor scale though so I had to play the harmonic minor after I'd played the natural minor! Gaahhh! Yeah, there were definitely some rough spots.

Anyhow, I need to go study for my psych final tonight AND I need to pack. I can't believe it's only 1:20... This morning felt like a lifetime. Anyhow, I think I'm going to make it! I can't wait to be done!

I Survived Tuesday (barely)

Well, I've made it through probably my worst day so that's good. It's not exactly downhill from here but I think I'll make it through the week.

Things have been pretty crazy. Last night the BJ boys decided to be crazy and revisit Traditiation. I will have to make a post about Traditiation to explain. Suffice it to say they ran around yelling various chant/cheer things and it was quite exciting.

So I got up at 6:30 today after staying up until 1:30 because I had my Finite Math final to study for. Finite Math has been TERRIBLE. It's supposed to be the easiest math class you can take but the prof I got has this inherent ability to make it as hard as possible. At first it was pretty simple but I definitely didn't think it would take as much work as it has. I even failed a test, which sounds really bad, but apparently our lowest test grade is replaced by our final, and know I at least passed the final so I'm no longer concerned. I was pretty freaked out when I first got it back though. I thought I would have to drop the class and take it again! But I did make it. So I studied for that until noon and then I went to take my final.

Technically it wasn't supposed to start until 1:00 and finish at 3:00, which is how long class usually is, but we discovered beforehand that there were twice as many questions as usual and we would have to complete it in the same amount of time! So some of the class asked if they could come early and I'm really glad I came early. It took me 2 hours and 45 minutes... I was so brain-dead, but I feel pretty good about it. THe important thing is that IT'S OVER!!! My day wasn't though. I had a 3 page history paper due at 5:00 that I'd only finished the pre-writing for and it was 2:45. I could not focus though so I went to Saga and scarfed down a bowl of cereal before heading to the library where I proceeded to pound out not 3 but 4 pages on Wu Chao and Hildegard of Bingen. They're both quite fascinating really, you should look them up. Wu Chao went from being a concubine to being the first and only female "emperor" of China and Hildegard was a nun who was a leading philosopher, scientist, and excellent composer in the Middle Ages. I'm actually quite pleased with what I managed to hammer out in 2 hours and I think it will get me by, but my day wasn't over yet.

I went to Lindaman to turn in my paper because that's where the assignment sheet said to go only to find that the assignment sheet was wrong and I really needed to go to Weyerhaeuser!

Jim Hunt is in Weyerhaeuser and has been for two years...

~The kind lady at Lindaman who was getting tired of redirecting us poor history students.

Well by this time it was almost 5:00 and so when I got to Weyerhaeuser it was 5:02 and everything was closed up... It was quite sad. However I feel pretty confident he'll take my paper since I would have had it in on time if I had simply gone to the right building first. I wrote him a lengthy and verbose email explaining my situation so hopefully he'll be sympathetic. After all, it was his mistake.

So after being disappointed in my valient efforts to turn in that paper on time I ran to the last Jenkins East hall dinner of the year... :-( Then I came back to my room and fell asleep for a bit. I was exhausted. But around 9:30 we had a little fun revisiting Traditiation ourselves. We ran around campus cheering and ended up rolling down a hill, getting sprayed with shaving cream, singing songs and generally having a good time. It was a nice break.

So that was my day. I should go study now. I will be sure to post that post on Traditiation ASAP. 3 more days!