Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Friday, April 18, 2008
Unrighteous Dominion
I found this quote by President Hunter as I was working and I found it intriguing:
"For a man to operate independently of or without regard to the feelings and counsel of his wife in governing the family is to exercise unrighteous dominion."
(Howard W. Hunter, October 1994 Conference Report)
"For a man to operate independently of or without regard to the feelings and counsel of his wife in governing the family is to exercise unrighteous dominion."
(Howard W. Hunter, October 1994 Conference Report)
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Called To Serve
Never have I been so excited to go on a mission as I am right now. I just finished interviewing with my stake president, and May 20 (the day he will send my papers in) seems like an eternity away.
During the interview, as I spoke of what missionaries do and of whom they testify, I was able to testify several times of the divine mission of Jesus Christ, of His atonement for us, and of the Father's love. If there is anyone struggling with knowing for themselves what the atonement of Jesus Christ can do in their lives, let me say here that I know that through the atonement, our sins can be washed clean. We do have the opportunity to return and live with our Father in Heaven, eternally, because of the sacrifice of Jesus Christ. He is our Savior and our Redeemer, the Son of God, and our Advocate with the Father. He truly is "an High Priest of good things to come." I love Him with all of my heart and soul and mind.
Any sacrifice that I have made is worth being where I am right now--able to testify of Jesus Christ and His gospel on the earth today, that we have a living prophet and living revelation from God, and that He is constantly working for the eternal happiness of His children--us!!! For those who are considering a mission, pray about it with an expectation of receiving the answer the Lord wants you to have (this includes older couples--and younger couples who can prepare now to serve a mission). For those who are not considering a mission, first of all consider it (even if it is 40 years away), and secondly, remember Elder Bednar's counsel from this last General Conference and be a life-time missionary.
I love this gospel. I love the scriptures. And I love our Heavenly Father and His Son, our Savior Jesus Christ.
And in four months I will be testifying of these truths full-time!
During the interview, as I spoke of what missionaries do and of whom they testify, I was able to testify several times of the divine mission of Jesus Christ, of His atonement for us, and of the Father's love. If there is anyone struggling with knowing for themselves what the atonement of Jesus Christ can do in their lives, let me say here that I know that through the atonement, our sins can be washed clean. We do have the opportunity to return and live with our Father in Heaven, eternally, because of the sacrifice of Jesus Christ. He is our Savior and our Redeemer, the Son of God, and our Advocate with the Father. He truly is "an High Priest of good things to come." I love Him with all of my heart and soul and mind.
Any sacrifice that I have made is worth being where I am right now--able to testify of Jesus Christ and His gospel on the earth today, that we have a living prophet and living revelation from God, and that He is constantly working for the eternal happiness of His children--us!!! For those who are considering a mission, pray about it with an expectation of receiving the answer the Lord wants you to have (this includes older couples--and younger couples who can prepare now to serve a mission). For those who are not considering a mission, first of all consider it (even if it is 40 years away), and secondly, remember Elder Bednar's counsel from this last General Conference and be a life-time missionary.
I love this gospel. I love the scriptures. And I love our Heavenly Father and His Son, our Savior Jesus Christ.
And in four months I will be testifying of these truths full-time!
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Saturday, April 12, 2008
"can i ask you a question while i can still talk?"
"how could i have 11 cavities?"
thus began my conversation with the dental hygenist. after explaning that i brush and floss every day (and even use listerine!), the hygenist explained that some people just have genetically bad teeth! (i guess going to the dentist every six months helps somewhat with that...)
oh well, i thought. anything is worth going on a mission for. besides, the dentist had told me that this marathon round of cavity filling would take about two hours--a long time, but not unbearable. and, i am leaving the country in two weeks, so i had to do it all in one appointment, and asap.
and, the hygenist had gone on a mission to romania, and she told me that before she went, she was afraid that she would have to go to a foreign dentist! in romania, she said, when you have a problem with a tooth they just pull it out!
thoughts of laying on a table in a cement room with a solitary lightbulb hanging over me as a foreign dentist yanked out my teeth with rusty pliers kept me in the chair the whole appointment.
all was well until the hygenist gave me a mask for the laughing gas to help me "relax." as i fooled myself into thinking that this noxious substance was actually helping me relax, i started realizing what a beautiful day it was, and how happy i was to be in the dentist's office! however, as soon as the dentist came in to give me my numbing shots, everything was not ok! all of a sudden i was hyperventilating, my heart was racing, and i was starting to cry! i was hyperventillating as the dentist gave me the numbing shots (six!!!), and he repeately asked if i was ok (of course i said yes...what were they going to do if i wasn't ok, send me home?).
when he was done and the hygenist came back in, i asked her to please remove the mask. when she asked if i was sick, i told her (with a rapidly numbing mouth), "i dink i ab allergic to dis duff!" of course i am not allergic, but my body was obviously having a severe reaction, and in my numbed reacted state i couldn't think of another way to describe it. i had to stand up and walk around the office for ten minutes, shaking violently with a racing heart the whole time, as i tried to get my hyperventillating to calm down.
and this was before they even started drilling!
when they did finally start drilling, the dentist became increasingly more and more alarmed at how "bad" my cavities were. "how long since you have been to the dentist?" he asked again, and i ashamedly replied, "three and a half years!" "yeah, these were probably started back then...and they have been decaying since then!"
great.
what was originally supposed to be a two hour appointment turned into a four hour appointment...it was so long, in fact, that the numbing wore off before they did the last two teeth. when the dentist asked if i wanted to be renumbed, i, unfortunately thinking that a few seconds of pain was more bearable than taking more time to be numbed, said no.
and this was a mistake.
when the dentist started applying the filling, my body was suddenly filled with unimaginable pain and i screamed and jerked. i quickly apologized (with a mouth that had been open with people's hands in it for four hours--i didn't know whether my jaw or my teeth hurt worse!), and the dentist, noticeably worried but unable to do anything about it now, said that he was sorry but they were almost done! i knew that, of course, but it didn't make the last minute any less painful, with me gripping the arm rests and hyperventilating. the pain was so bad i even started to cry, and the solitary tear did not escape the eye of the dentist, who apologized profusely but, of course, i had asked for it.
needless to say, three days later, i am still taking advil for intense mouth pain.
thus began my conversation with the dental hygenist. after explaning that i brush and floss every day (and even use listerine!), the hygenist explained that some people just have genetically bad teeth! (i guess going to the dentist every six months helps somewhat with that...)
oh well, i thought. anything is worth going on a mission for. besides, the dentist had told me that this marathon round of cavity filling would take about two hours--a long time, but not unbearable. and, i am leaving the country in two weeks, so i had to do it all in one appointment, and asap.
and, the hygenist had gone on a mission to romania, and she told me that before she went, she was afraid that she would have to go to a foreign dentist! in romania, she said, when you have a problem with a tooth they just pull it out!
thoughts of laying on a table in a cement room with a solitary lightbulb hanging over me as a foreign dentist yanked out my teeth with rusty pliers kept me in the chair the whole appointment.
all was well until the hygenist gave me a mask for the laughing gas to help me "relax." as i fooled myself into thinking that this noxious substance was actually helping me relax, i started realizing what a beautiful day it was, and how happy i was to be in the dentist's office! however, as soon as the dentist came in to give me my numbing shots, everything was not ok! all of a sudden i was hyperventilating, my heart was racing, and i was starting to cry! i was hyperventillating as the dentist gave me the numbing shots (six!!!), and he repeately asked if i was ok (of course i said yes...what were they going to do if i wasn't ok, send me home?).
when he was done and the hygenist came back in, i asked her to please remove the mask. when she asked if i was sick, i told her (with a rapidly numbing mouth), "i dink i ab allergic to dis duff!" of course i am not allergic, but my body was obviously having a severe reaction, and in my numbed reacted state i couldn't think of another way to describe it. i had to stand up and walk around the office for ten minutes, shaking violently with a racing heart the whole time, as i tried to get my hyperventillating to calm down.
and this was before they even started drilling!
when they did finally start drilling, the dentist became increasingly more and more alarmed at how "bad" my cavities were. "how long since you have been to the dentist?" he asked again, and i ashamedly replied, "three and a half years!" "yeah, these were probably started back then...and they have been decaying since then!"
great.
what was originally supposed to be a two hour appointment turned into a four hour appointment...it was so long, in fact, that the numbing wore off before they did the last two teeth. when the dentist asked if i wanted to be renumbed, i, unfortunately thinking that a few seconds of pain was more bearable than taking more time to be numbed, said no.
and this was a mistake.
when the dentist started applying the filling, my body was suddenly filled with unimaginable pain and i screamed and jerked. i quickly apologized (with a mouth that had been open with people's hands in it for four hours--i didn't know whether my jaw or my teeth hurt worse!), and the dentist, noticeably worried but unable to do anything about it now, said that he was sorry but they were almost done! i knew that, of course, but it didn't make the last minute any less painful, with me gripping the arm rests and hyperventilating. the pain was so bad i even started to cry, and the solitary tear did not escape the eye of the dentist, who apologized profusely but, of course, i had asked for it.
needless to say, three days later, i am still taking advil for intense mouth pain.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Hong Ye's Baptism
today i witnessed something beautiful. my friend from china, hong ye, was baptized. last semester i was her visiting teacher, and i have watched her grow as she has taken the missionary discussions, read the book of mormon, and gone to church for the past seven months.
i found out last sunday that she was getting baptized, and i immediately ran up there and congratulated her. it has been a long road for her, especially being raised in china, being chinese, and having only been in the states for seven months.
tonight, i watched her as we sang the hymns ("nearer my God, to Thee" and "i know that my Redeemer lives"). she kept smiling, as though she could hardly keep the joy and happiness inside and wanted to share it with the world.
it is moments like this that make me more impatient than ever to serve a mission--and to be able to share this happiness, this good news, this opportunity of salvation, with others! just a few more weeks and they will send my papers in...
on a related note, this is my third dear friend that has been baptized in the three years i have been at byu--one from mexico, one from korea, and now one from china. pretty good for being at byu, eh?
i found out last sunday that she was getting baptized, and i immediately ran up there and congratulated her. it has been a long road for her, especially being raised in china, being chinese, and having only been in the states for seven months.
tonight, i watched her as we sang the hymns ("nearer my God, to Thee" and "i know that my Redeemer lives"). she kept smiling, as though she could hardly keep the joy and happiness inside and wanted to share it with the world.
it is moments like this that make me more impatient than ever to serve a mission--and to be able to share this happiness, this good news, this opportunity of salvation, with others! just a few more weeks and they will send my papers in...
on a related note, this is my third dear friend that has been baptized in the three years i have been at byu--one from mexico, one from korea, and now one from china. pretty good for being at byu, eh?
Thursday, April 10, 2008
ok bye!!!
today was my last day volunteering at wasatch. unfortunately i did not realize this until i was about to leave this morning, when mrs. mattinson turned to me and said, "this is your last week isn't it?" i hadn't realized that next week they have spring break and so won't have class on thursday.
is it ok that i cried when i left?
i have gotten really attached to these my little friends, and i was hoping that they would get attached to me too. i really wanted them to like me, even though i just walk around and help them with spelling and tell them how cool their stories are and how good they are at math. however, i think last week was the clincher.
last week, i taught them arabic and hebrew.
mrs. mattinson was kind enough to allow me to give a presentation on israel/palestine and jordan, and i talked to the kids for about 20 minutes about arabic, hebrew, jews, muslims, and the like.
it was one of the most thrilling things i have ever done.
the kids liked it too--but even so, i do like to think that my shushing them when they sit on the "carpet" to listen to stories and always helping them with their reading was just a teeny bit appreciated--not because i need to feel appreciated, but because i wanted to have done some good for them since they did so much good for me. leaving campus to help at the same elementary school where i went to school was more than therapeutic, and i finally felt like i was doing good for the world. and, i enjoyed this round of volunteering with 3rd graders at wasatch much more than the last one two years ago.
before this, i was more than excited to go to jordan in two weeks--what i am going to miss here? going to more classes? grading student papers?
not a chance.
but now, now when i think that i won't see rebecca and alexa and beth-el and emma and all the rest any more, my heart just breaks. these kids have become a part of my life...i even looked at all of their science fair presentations! we learned about myths and fables and native americans together! and today they were at an assembly for most of the time that i was there, so i barely even got to see them. instead, i was in with the next door teacher's math stragglers, who had to finish their addition and subtraction sheets before they could go to the assembly (which was an adventure in itself, because the last two students were siblings of two people that i went to elementary school with! some things never change).
my consolation prize? as i was getting ready to leave, the "special guest presenter" turned to me and asked if i was about to leave, and as i said yes, i said, "can i say goodbye, though? this is my last time, guys!"
the whole class groaned, and one girl looked like she was going to cry!
clearly, there was some attachment there! i must have done some good in this small class. as i left, i told everyone, "i will think about you in egypt and jordan!"
i think i will have to send a couple of emails to their teacher with pictures of me and the egyptian/jordanian kids. who knows, perhaps some budding middle easternist in the class will be inspired by my stories and pictures!
or perhaps i just don't want to let go...
is it ok that i cried when i left?
i have gotten really attached to these my little friends, and i was hoping that they would get attached to me too. i really wanted them to like me, even though i just walk around and help them with spelling and tell them how cool their stories are and how good they are at math. however, i think last week was the clincher.
last week, i taught them arabic and hebrew.
mrs. mattinson was kind enough to allow me to give a presentation on israel/palestine and jordan, and i talked to the kids for about 20 minutes about arabic, hebrew, jews, muslims, and the like.
it was one of the most thrilling things i have ever done.
the kids liked it too--but even so, i do like to think that my shushing them when they sit on the "carpet" to listen to stories and always helping them with their reading was just a teeny bit appreciated--not because i need to feel appreciated, but because i wanted to have done some good for them since they did so much good for me. leaving campus to help at the same elementary school where i went to school was more than therapeutic, and i finally felt like i was doing good for the world. and, i enjoyed this round of volunteering with 3rd graders at wasatch much more than the last one two years ago.
before this, i was more than excited to go to jordan in two weeks--what i am going to miss here? going to more classes? grading student papers?
not a chance.
but now, now when i think that i won't see rebecca and alexa and beth-el and emma and all the rest any more, my heart just breaks. these kids have become a part of my life...i even looked at all of their science fair presentations! we learned about myths and fables and native americans together! and today they were at an assembly for most of the time that i was there, so i barely even got to see them. instead, i was in with the next door teacher's math stragglers, who had to finish their addition and subtraction sheets before they could go to the assembly (which was an adventure in itself, because the last two students were siblings of two people that i went to elementary school with! some things never change).
my consolation prize? as i was getting ready to leave, the "special guest presenter" turned to me and asked if i was about to leave, and as i said yes, i said, "can i say goodbye, though? this is my last time, guys!"
the whole class groaned, and one girl looked like she was going to cry!
clearly, there was some attachment there! i must have done some good in this small class. as i left, i told everyone, "i will think about you in egypt and jordan!"
i think i will have to send a couple of emails to their teacher with pictures of me and the egyptian/jordanian kids. who knows, perhaps some budding middle easternist in the class will be inspired by my stories and pictures!
or perhaps i just don't want to let go...
Thursday, April 3, 2008
understanding the world...in provo, utah
today i had the choice opportunity of giving a presentation to the third grade class where i volunteer each week about israel. i volunteer at wasatch elementary (my alma mater, and the best school in the land!) and each thursday morning i go and help the kids with reading and math...and good behavior! it is really fun and each time i go i remember that i wish i would have chosen elementary education for my major. :)
anyway, today i taught the class about israel/palestine. i taught them a little arabic, a little hebrew, and i taught them about muslims and jews. it was more than thrilling to see the kids so excited about arabs and israelis...not least of all because i am so excited about them! after showing them the hijab, the kafiah, the kippuh, and some random souvenirs, including the cool little bottle of sand i bought in jordan, i asked if they had any questions.
what do the little children wear? (normal clothes--except the really orthodox jews, whose little children always wear sunday best--even when hiking masada!)
what do the police officers look like? (all girls have to serve for 2 years in the israeli army, and all guys have to serve for 3 after they graduate from high school)
my name is hebrew! (it really is--her name is beth-el!)
what do they learn at school? (the same thing as here, except a few more languages...)
i was amazed and delighted at the world-education these little sprites are getting...and that i got at wasatch. in addition to several different nationalities here, i asked what languages were spoken by the 3rd graders...korean, spanish, mexican, and german were a few listed.
one reason that wasatch is so diverse is because byu brings in so many different countries, cultures, and languages. although sometimes i think everyone at byu is the same, sometimes i realize how awesome it is that i have friends from germany, palestine, jordan, syria, columbia, russia, south america, and many other places...and american friends that have been all over the world!
and all in provo.
anyway, today i taught the class about israel/palestine. i taught them a little arabic, a little hebrew, and i taught them about muslims and jews. it was more than thrilling to see the kids so excited about arabs and israelis...not least of all because i am so excited about them! after showing them the hijab, the kafiah, the kippuh, and some random souvenirs, including the cool little bottle of sand i bought in jordan, i asked if they had any questions.
what do the little children wear? (normal clothes--except the really orthodox jews, whose little children always wear sunday best--even when hiking masada!)
what do the police officers look like? (all girls have to serve for 2 years in the israeli army, and all guys have to serve for 3 after they graduate from high school)
my name is hebrew! (it really is--her name is beth-el!)
what do they learn at school? (the same thing as here, except a few more languages...)
i was amazed and delighted at the world-education these little sprites are getting...and that i got at wasatch. in addition to several different nationalities here, i asked what languages were spoken by the 3rd graders...korean, spanish, mexican, and german were a few listed.
one reason that wasatch is so diverse is because byu brings in so many different countries, cultures, and languages. although sometimes i think everyone at byu is the same, sometimes i realize how awesome it is that i have friends from germany, palestine, jordan, syria, columbia, russia, south america, and many other places...and american friends that have been all over the world!
and all in provo.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
"i am indeed the shepherd who brings peace"
as i was studying the law code of hammurabi for one of my classes, i found this beautiful pronouncement of how hammurabi wanted to portray himself in the epilogue of the code:
"i am hammurabi, noble king. i have not been careless or negligent toward humankind, granted to my care by the god enlil, and with whose shepherding the god marduk charged me. i have sought for them peaceful places, i removed serious difficulties, i spread light over them...i made the people of all settlements lie in safe pastures, i did not tolerate anyone intimidating them. the great gods having chosen me, i am indeed the shepherd who brings peace, whose scepter is just. my benevolent shade is spread over my city, i held the people of the lands of sumer and akkad safely on my lap. they prospered under my protective spirit, i maintained them in peace, with my skillful wisdom i sheltered them."
now, i am not one to say whether or not hammurabi was as noble a king as he portrays himself or not. all i know is that this imagery of kings shepherding their people was important to society--as many of them were shepherds or agriculturists themselves.
it brings new meaning and understanding to me as i think about the Savior as being the Good Shepherd--and how it was important to society at that time, how He used an image that they were very familiar with--kings being shepherds of their people. it brings new meaning and understanding as i study isaiah and i think about cyrus, as a type of the Savior, being portrayed as being a shepherd of the israelites.
although there are times of drugery (reading through 20 pages of law codes!), can i just say i love my major?
"i am hammurabi, noble king. i have not been careless or negligent toward humankind, granted to my care by the god enlil, and with whose shepherding the god marduk charged me. i have sought for them peaceful places, i removed serious difficulties, i spread light over them...i made the people of all settlements lie in safe pastures, i did not tolerate anyone intimidating them. the great gods having chosen me, i am indeed the shepherd who brings peace, whose scepter is just. my benevolent shade is spread over my city, i held the people of the lands of sumer and akkad safely on my lap. they prospered under my protective spirit, i maintained them in peace, with my skillful wisdom i sheltered them."
now, i am not one to say whether or not hammurabi was as noble a king as he portrays himself or not. all i know is that this imagery of kings shepherding their people was important to society--as many of them were shepherds or agriculturists themselves.
it brings new meaning and understanding to me as i think about the Savior as being the Good Shepherd--and how it was important to society at that time, how He used an image that they were very familiar with--kings being shepherds of their people. it brings new meaning and understanding as i study isaiah and i think about cyrus, as a type of the Savior, being portrayed as being a shepherd of the israelites.
although there are times of drugery (reading through 20 pages of law codes!), can i just say i love my major?
Saturday, March 22, 2008
elevators
i love elevators. i love the awkward silences that occur when several strangers are squished into an elevator together. i especially love it when someone is eating something particularly crunchy, and that is the only sound heard the whole ride.
crunch. crunch. crunch.
most of all, i love "funny elevator people." these are the people who do particularly awkward things on purpose on an elevator. i am not talking about those people who do those "things to do on an elevator" just to get a reaction. i am talking about people who do things that they consider normal but seem particularly awkward in a closed space.
for example.
one day last semester i was taking the south-east elevator in the jfsb. it was close to finals week, and i was feeling particularly stressed myself. as i approached the elevator i noticed an extremely agitated professor standing next to it, who was periodically sighing and pacing back and forth. when the elevator arrived, i calmly walked in and pushed what floor i needed, while the professor walked straight to a corner of the elevator and stood facing it.
no joke.
when i asked what floor he needed, he turned around, sighed, and said "one." the doors closed and down we went, with him muttering to himself the whole way.
and that was a professor.
yesterday, however, i met a real "funny elevator man." after i stepped onto the same elevator as was referenced in the previous story on the way to my class yesterday and the doors started to close, a girl rushed up so naturally i pulled the doors apart for her. she stepped on, apologizing, when funny elevator man said, in a natural british accent, "i guess we can spare 13 seconds of our time for you." when she said thanks, he said, "that was 13 seconds of our lives lost. we can never get those 13 seconds back again!" naturally, it was made even more funny because he had a british accent. (side note: i think people with british accents can say the same thing as someone else and sound 3x funnier. i don't know why it happens. but it does.)
everyone else in the elevator, who was not used to "funny elevator people," stood looking awkwardly at the floor.
naturally, i just laughed.
crunch. crunch. crunch.
most of all, i love "funny elevator people." these are the people who do particularly awkward things on purpose on an elevator. i am not talking about those people who do those "things to do on an elevator" just to get a reaction. i am talking about people who do things that they consider normal but seem particularly awkward in a closed space.
for example.
one day last semester i was taking the south-east elevator in the jfsb. it was close to finals week, and i was feeling particularly stressed myself. as i approached the elevator i noticed an extremely agitated professor standing next to it, who was periodically sighing and pacing back and forth. when the elevator arrived, i calmly walked in and pushed what floor i needed, while the professor walked straight to a corner of the elevator and stood facing it.
no joke.
when i asked what floor he needed, he turned around, sighed, and said "one." the doors closed and down we went, with him muttering to himself the whole way.
and that was a professor.
yesterday, however, i met a real "funny elevator man." after i stepped onto the same elevator as was referenced in the previous story on the way to my class yesterday and the doors started to close, a girl rushed up so naturally i pulled the doors apart for her. she stepped on, apologizing, when funny elevator man said, in a natural british accent, "i guess we can spare 13 seconds of our time for you." when she said thanks, he said, "that was 13 seconds of our lives lost. we can never get those 13 seconds back again!" naturally, it was made even more funny because he had a british accent. (side note: i think people with british accents can say the same thing as someone else and sound 3x funnier. i don't know why it happens. but it does.)
everyone else in the elevator, who was not used to "funny elevator people," stood looking awkwardly at the floor.
naturally, i just laughed.
this is just to say
i have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox
and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast
forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold
i don't know why, but i fell in love with this poem by william carlos williams when we read it for my american lit class. it speaks so personally to needs, wants, and unfulfilled desires, and paints such a beautiful picture of genuine sorrow vs acute want in my head. i don't feel the need to say more. so enjoy.
the plums
that were in
the icebox
and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast
forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold
i don't know why, but i fell in love with this poem by william carlos williams when we read it for my american lit class. it speaks so personally to needs, wants, and unfulfilled desires, and paints such a beautiful picture of genuine sorrow vs acute want in my head. i don't feel the need to say more. so enjoy.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
why my social excitement revolves around my office
i have always joked about how my social excitement revolves around my office...even though i usually work in there alone. but i always leave the door open, and when people walk by they look in, and if they know me they stop to chat for a minute. usually people who don't know me don't stop.
until yesterday.
i was calmly clocking out at 9:54, getting ready to go to my 10:00 class, when all of a sudden a 50-something man jumped into my office and said, in about 300 miles an hour talking speed, "can i ask you a question?" i said yes, and he quickly asked if i knew an undergrad who is studying arabic and who applied for the casa program. it just so happened that i did (we had a class together last semester), and when i told him, he said, "great!canijustinterviewyouquicklyabouthimiamfromthegovernment(and here he flashed his card for me)andhehasappliedforoneofourprogramsandiamjustrunningaquickbackgroundcheck
doyouhavethreeorfourminutesthaticanaskyousomequestions?"
he said it that fast.
unfortunately, i told him that i was about to go to class and did not have even four minutes to be interviewed.
"greatnoproblemiwilljustfollowyoutoyourclassandicaninterviewyouontheway!"
he then proceeded to follow me to my american literature class, quizzing me about this student all the way.
"doeshehaveanypsychologicalproblemsthatyouknowof?(it was one class!)howdoesheperforminarabic?whatishispersonalitylike?"
it was quite possibly the strangest thing that has ever occurred to me.
then, as we were parting ways when i got to my class, he asked what class i was going to. when i responded that it was an american literature class and that i am an english major, he looked at me accusingly and said, "whatwereyouuptherefor?" (in the arabic/hebrew department)
after telling him i know hebrew (and arabic, but he already knew that) he said as he was departing, "thatwastheshortestinterviewihavehadyet!"
i didn't feel too bad about it.
until yesterday.
i was calmly clocking out at 9:54, getting ready to go to my 10:00 class, when all of a sudden a 50-something man jumped into my office and said, in about 300 miles an hour talking speed, "can i ask you a question?" i said yes, and he quickly asked if i knew an undergrad who is studying arabic and who applied for the casa program. it just so happened that i did (we had a class together last semester), and when i told him, he said, "great!canijustinterviewyouquicklyabouthimiamfromthegovernment(and here he flashed his card for me)andhehasappliedforoneofourprogramsandiamjustrunningaquickbackgroundcheck
doyouhavethreeorfourminutesthaticanaskyousomequestions?"
he said it that fast.
unfortunately, i told him that i was about to go to class and did not have even four minutes to be interviewed.
"greatnoproblemiwilljustfollowyoutoyourclassandicaninterviewyouontheway!"
he then proceeded to follow me to my american literature class, quizzing me about this student all the way.
"doeshehaveanypsychologicalproblemsthatyouknowof?(it was one class!)howdoesheperforminarabic?whatishispersonalitylike?"
it was quite possibly the strangest thing that has ever occurred to me.
then, as we were parting ways when i got to my class, he asked what class i was going to. when i responded that it was an american literature class and that i am an english major, he looked at me accusingly and said, "whatwereyouuptherefor?" (in the arabic/hebrew department)
after telling him i know hebrew (and arabic, but he already knew that) he said as he was departing, "thatwastheshortestinterviewihavehadyet!"
i didn't feel too bad about it.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
a parade. in the library.
the other day i was talking to my former home teacher at the library security desk. we were talking about his upcoming marriage and my upcoming study abroad and mission, when all of a sudden we heard music. and it wasn't the music they play at midnight, either.
it was a parade.
there were 4 people playing instruments, including a banjo, a drum, and a recorder or something like that, as i recall. i think there were shakers too. of course, they could have been any instrument, seeing as how i was so shocked at seeing a parade in the library that i paid little attention to the instruments. gathered around them were a bunch of what looked to be high school students, and they were slowly walking out of the library.
i immediately thought, "the pied piper returns...and this time he brought his friends!"
i turned to my library security friend and asked, "is that allowed?" he said definitely not and decided that a rule needed to be made:
"no parades in the library!"
it was, quite possibly, one of the strangest things i have ever seen in the hbll.
it was a parade.
there were 4 people playing instruments, including a banjo, a drum, and a recorder or something like that, as i recall. i think there were shakers too. of course, they could have been any instrument, seeing as how i was so shocked at seeing a parade in the library that i paid little attention to the instruments. gathered around them were a bunch of what looked to be high school students, and they were slowly walking out of the library.
i immediately thought, "the pied piper returns...and this time he brought his friends!"
i turned to my library security friend and asked, "is that allowed?" he said definitely not and decided that a rule needed to be made:
"no parades in the library!"
it was, quite possibly, one of the strangest things i have ever seen in the hbll.
Monday, March 10, 2008
the law of decreasing returns
the other day i was handed back a paper in my english class. i got 9.5 out of 10 on it...a pretty good score. it was a write-up on a video we had to watch, and thus far i have gotten 9's on my papers. i would not have complained about the higher score, except i worked so much less on this paper than the others. i hated the movie, had no inspiration concerning its fulfillment of its purpose, and made that manifest in the paper.
and then i got a 9.5.
the problem is, the paper i turned in just before this was a much better paper. it drew out elements from the plot line and background that contributed to the literature we are studying. i felt passionate about the movie and even watched parts of it again as i was writing the paper. i created beautiful alliteration and illusions in my paper, and i felt like i fulfilled all of the requirements specified.
and yet i got a 9.
this "academic system" has really drawn me to be tempted to do poor work, or at least not as excellent of work as i am capable, because it takes so much more time and i often get better grades for what i have done on the fly. this was my attitude until i came back from jerusalem. i was so busy that i simply didn't have time for a hundred revisions, and i often finished my assignments 10 minutes before they were due. this system served me well, i was very efficient, and i got good grades.
and then i went to jerusalem.
and i tried to remember the classes that i had had, about jerusalem and the ancient near east, and i realized i knew nothing. i would vaguely remember that i took a whole class about the tabernacle, and yet i couldn't remember much beyond the basic functionality of it. after my class on mesopotamian archaeology, i could hardly identify the findings in museums. my knowledge, it seemed, had been dumped out at the testing center, never to return.
i realized this had to change.
when i returned from jerusalem, i threw myself whole-heartedly into my classes. i have never worked so hard in my life as i have in the past year. and yet i still find myself getting comparable or better grades on assignments i spend less time on. however, now i have realized that it isn't for the grade. while it makes me upset that teachers don't seem to recognize true effort, i have realized that my education is now for me. what i will remember later from my thousands of weeks and thousands of dollars spent on my education is entirely dependent on how i go about learning now.
it's a scary thought.
but today, i went into my arabic writing appointment. we have these every week and i have never been able to get higher than a 24 out of 25 from my teacher. however, this week i worked with some pretty complicated grammatical structures and used the new vocabulary. plus, my story was interesting and funny. and it took me a long time to write. in short, i was very proud of it.
and then i got a 25.
i guess some people are able to recognize and award true effort and work. but i guess i have realized that it doesn't matter to me anymore. even if i only get 9's instead of 10's on my response papers that i work so hard on, my entire way of thinking is changing. i amd starting to know how to think in the way that my classes teach me. i am laying the foundation for a lifetime of being able to study, whether it be english literature or arabic or hebrew or even music theory, and to study well. and to know my stuff. and to have my mind enlightened and expanded. and to understand what it takes to prepare your mind for pure intelligence to flow.
but i still think a's are nice...
and then i got a 9.5.
the problem is, the paper i turned in just before this was a much better paper. it drew out elements from the plot line and background that contributed to the literature we are studying. i felt passionate about the movie and even watched parts of it again as i was writing the paper. i created beautiful alliteration and illusions in my paper, and i felt like i fulfilled all of the requirements specified.
and yet i got a 9.
this "academic system" has really drawn me to be tempted to do poor work, or at least not as excellent of work as i am capable, because it takes so much more time and i often get better grades for what i have done on the fly. this was my attitude until i came back from jerusalem. i was so busy that i simply didn't have time for a hundred revisions, and i often finished my assignments 10 minutes before they were due. this system served me well, i was very efficient, and i got good grades.
and then i went to jerusalem.
and i tried to remember the classes that i had had, about jerusalem and the ancient near east, and i realized i knew nothing. i would vaguely remember that i took a whole class about the tabernacle, and yet i couldn't remember much beyond the basic functionality of it. after my class on mesopotamian archaeology, i could hardly identify the findings in museums. my knowledge, it seemed, had been dumped out at the testing center, never to return.
i realized this had to change.
when i returned from jerusalem, i threw myself whole-heartedly into my classes. i have never worked so hard in my life as i have in the past year. and yet i still find myself getting comparable or better grades on assignments i spend less time on. however, now i have realized that it isn't for the grade. while it makes me upset that teachers don't seem to recognize true effort, i have realized that my education is now for me. what i will remember later from my thousands of weeks and thousands of dollars spent on my education is entirely dependent on how i go about learning now.
it's a scary thought.
but today, i went into my arabic writing appointment. we have these every week and i have never been able to get higher than a 24 out of 25 from my teacher. however, this week i worked with some pretty complicated grammatical structures and used the new vocabulary. plus, my story was interesting and funny. and it took me a long time to write. in short, i was very proud of it.
and then i got a 25.
i guess some people are able to recognize and award true effort and work. but i guess i have realized that it doesn't matter to me anymore. even if i only get 9's instead of 10's on my response papers that i work so hard on, my entire way of thinking is changing. i amd starting to know how to think in the way that my classes teach me. i am laying the foundation for a lifetime of being able to study, whether it be english literature or arabic or hebrew or even music theory, and to study well. and to know my stuff. and to have my mind enlightened and expanded. and to understand what it takes to prepare your mind for pure intelligence to flow.
but i still think a's are nice...
Sunday, March 2, 2008
the impulses to wordless prayer
charles dickens wrote a poem called "things that never die," and we sang a rendition of it in women's chorus 3 years ago. i have reproduced a copy of it for you here:
things that never die
the pure, the bright, the beautiful
that stirred our hearts in youth,
the impulses to wordless prayer,
the streams of love and truth,
the longing after something lost,
the spirit's longing cry,
the striving after better hopes—
these things can never die.
the timid hand stretched forth to aid
a brother in his need;
a kindly word in grief's dark hour
that proves a friend indeed;
the plea for mercy softly breathed,
when justice threatens high,
the sorrow of a contrite heart—
these things shall never die.
let nothing pass, for every hand
must find some work to do,
lose not a chance to waken love—
be firm and just and true.
so shall a light that cannot fade
beam on thee from on high,
and angel voices say to thee—
"these things shall never die."
my favorite line in the poem is "the impulses to wordless prayer." in fact, if it wasn't so long, i would probably create a new blog with that name. i love the idea of earthly, mortal things that produce a reflex reaction of wordless prayer, of worship of our Heavenly Father.
these are my impulses to wordless prayer:
watching the sun rise as i walk to school
mountains changing color with the seasons
the hymns of Zion
a newborn baby
children laughing
a testimony of the Savior born with sweet conviction
sweet memories of jerusalem
missionaries, especially sister missionaries
the Atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ
the restoration of the gospel
chance meetings of dear friends
songs about the Savior in women's chorus
singing for general conference
the book of mormon
reading isaiah
playing the piano
observing simple kindnesses
sharing the gospel
watching peoples' hearts change
the bible, doctrine and covenants, and pearl of great price
a living prophet and living revelation
glimpses of eternity
temples and temple work
the first flowers of spring
lighthouses
promptings from the Holy Ghost
sudden flashes of inspiration
"He is" by hilary weeks
attending conference in the conference center
pondering the sacrament and sacrament hymns
the sea of galilee
long drives in the car
translating hebrew and arabic passages with ease
eternal marriage
the jerusalem center
answered prayers
byu campus after the first snowfall
autumn
the many opportunities i am offered at byu
personalized blessings
understanding my purpose on the earth
driving into provo on university pkwy at night and seeing the temple
watching the sun set over jerusalem
seeing the religious devotion of others
the light of Christ in the faces of my friends
things that never die
the pure, the bright, the beautiful
that stirred our hearts in youth,
the impulses to wordless prayer,
the streams of love and truth,
the longing after something lost,
the spirit's longing cry,
the striving after better hopes—
these things can never die.
the timid hand stretched forth to aid
a brother in his need;
a kindly word in grief's dark hour
that proves a friend indeed;
the plea for mercy softly breathed,
when justice threatens high,
the sorrow of a contrite heart—
these things shall never die.
let nothing pass, for every hand
must find some work to do,
lose not a chance to waken love—
be firm and just and true.
so shall a light that cannot fade
beam on thee from on high,
and angel voices say to thee—
"these things shall never die."
my favorite line in the poem is "the impulses to wordless prayer." in fact, if it wasn't so long, i would probably create a new blog with that name. i love the idea of earthly, mortal things that produce a reflex reaction of wordless prayer, of worship of our Heavenly Father.
these are my impulses to wordless prayer:
watching the sun rise as i walk to school
mountains changing color with the seasons
the hymns of Zion
a newborn baby
children laughing
a testimony of the Savior born with sweet conviction
sweet memories of jerusalem
missionaries, especially sister missionaries
the Atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ
the restoration of the gospel
chance meetings of dear friends
songs about the Savior in women's chorus
singing for general conference
the book of mormon
reading isaiah
playing the piano
observing simple kindnesses
sharing the gospel
watching peoples' hearts change
the bible, doctrine and covenants, and pearl of great price
a living prophet and living revelation
glimpses of eternity
temples and temple work
the first flowers of spring
lighthouses
promptings from the Holy Ghost
sudden flashes of inspiration
"He is" by hilary weeks
attending conference in the conference center
pondering the sacrament and sacrament hymns
the sea of galilee
long drives in the car
translating hebrew and arabic passages with ease
eternal marriage
the jerusalem center
answered prayers
byu campus after the first snowfall
autumn
the many opportunities i am offered at byu
personalized blessings
understanding my purpose on the earth
driving into provo on university pkwy at night and seeing the temple
watching the sun set over jerusalem
seeing the religious devotion of others
the light of Christ in the faces of my friends
Saturday, March 1, 2008
thoughts on the testing center
so, the testing center has always been one of the "darker" buildings on campus, although lame jokes are made about the most prayers being offered in it. i hate the testing center less for the tests i have had to take in there and more for the fact that i have to be in a building with 700 people, all stressed out of their minds.
picture a big room with high windows with bars on them. the room is grey and silent, although there are several hundred people inside. i am describing neither a prison nor a funeral, but the byu testing center.
what i hate the most about the testing center is all of those people breathing heavily. the minute i walk into the room after being handed my test i have the feeling of being smothered. no windows. little light. no happiness. only heavy breathing, a whole room full of the echos of hundreds of people breathing. heavily. and sweating, even in the winter. and sometimes i sit in front of people who are "desk kickers." i don't need to mention that i want to kick them when, right in the middle of answering the question "what is the significance of the mereneptah stela" i begin, "it is the first" kick. "and only mention" kick. i begin writing faster, to somehow extend the time between the sentences i write and the kicks coming from the thoughtless person behind me, who is probably taking some organic chemistry exam and can't even tell you what the mereneptah stela is, let alone its significance!
so yes. i have discovered the music room and i use it as frequently as possible, and i always sit by a window. a window that is eye level. and i watch the people enter and exit the testing center instead of taking my test. and sometimes i bring my dinner, and i eat it while i am taking a test. and the room doesn't echo, and there are only about 40 people in there instead of 700.
however, if i could have my way, i would take a test in my own room, next to a window, and there would be no one breathing heavily, and no one to kick my chair, and i could get up and stretch.
or, we could just take tests in class, and the teachers could only make them as long as the class period. but of course this is a much too logical solution to the problem of the byu testing center.
picture a big room with high windows with bars on them. the room is grey and silent, although there are several hundred people inside. i am describing neither a prison nor a funeral, but the byu testing center.
what i hate the most about the testing center is all of those people breathing heavily. the minute i walk into the room after being handed my test i have the feeling of being smothered. no windows. little light. no happiness. only heavy breathing, a whole room full of the echos of hundreds of people breathing. heavily. and sweating, even in the winter. and sometimes i sit in front of people who are "desk kickers." i don't need to mention that i want to kick them when, right in the middle of answering the question "what is the significance of the mereneptah stela" i begin, "it is the first" kick. "and only mention" kick. i begin writing faster, to somehow extend the time between the sentences i write and the kicks coming from the thoughtless person behind me, who is probably taking some organic chemistry exam and can't even tell you what the mereneptah stela is, let alone its significance!
so yes. i have discovered the music room and i use it as frequently as possible, and i always sit by a window. a window that is eye level. and i watch the people enter and exit the testing center instead of taking my test. and sometimes i bring my dinner, and i eat it while i am taking a test. and the room doesn't echo, and there are only about 40 people in there instead of 700.
however, if i could have my way, i would take a test in my own room, next to a window, and there would be no one breathing heavily, and no one to kick my chair, and i could get up and stretch.
or, we could just take tests in class, and the teachers could only make them as long as the class period. but of course this is a much too logical solution to the problem of the byu testing center.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
how do certain combinations of notes produce such sublime beauty?
and yes, i did use sublime there knowing full well what it means in literary terminology. i am an english major, after all, and i am in an american literature class this semester. but last night as i was walking home from campus, i was listening to my ipod.
short side note here--i recently become a fan of ipods but i thought i would never have one because they are way too expensive for my "i continually leave the country and have cut my meals down to 1.5 a day" college student budget. but through luck, or chance, or the spaciness of my sister, i came to inherit a free one for christmas. i guess it was more of a gift than an inheritance, but inherit sounds better in this context. and since then i have used it extensively, involving the 10 minutes it takes to walk to campus in the morning and the 10 minutes it takes to walk home every day.
really, listening to my ipod while walking to campus has changed my life. i usually walk alone, as i get to campus so early and leave so late that most of campus is still asleep or has already left for the night. but ever since i got my ipod, i no longer walk alone. sometimes i walk to campus with Sister Hinkley, and sometimes with Elder Holland and President Eyring, and sometimes when it is really cold and my breath freezes and smacks me in the face as i walk along, i walk with my friends from hawaii. or any place tropical, really.
but last night i was walking home with todd mccabe and april moriarty. they have these beautiful, magnificent hymn arrangements for piano and violin, and they are spectacular. some of my favorites include "in humility, our Savior," "He is risen," and "beautiful Savior." the songs have beautiful melodies in and of themselves, but something about the lilting rising and falling of the violin brings the beauty from my mind to my heart--as though the violin bow was playing on my very heart strings and the music is resonating through my spirit.
as i was listening to "beautiful Savior," i started thinking about note, chord, and cadence combinations. there is one musical phrase that is my particular favorite in this rendition, where the violin repeats a musical phrase "fair are the meadows, fairer the woodlands," and the second phrase rises a thrid higher than the first, with the violin doing a little grace note. it is my favorite phrase in the whole song. why could something this simple be my favorite phrase? how is this chord sequence different than those directly before and those after? and how can a chord sequence inspire such thoughts of beauty, of reverence for my Creator, of worship and devotion?
then i started thinking about the chord structures and cadences that are deemed "naturally" beautiful (it was a long 10 minutes...). take the circle of fifths, for example. that chord sequence is so universally pleasing, it doesn't take any musical training to realize that when a cadence ends in a circle of fifths it just sounds "right." but why are these musical elements so universal, even eternal? it is just because note values mathematically add up correctly? and does this work with our other senses?
it does. first i thought that it doesn't work with anything but music, because i thought to myself, no one looks at a combination of numbers, say 68429, and thinks, oh, wow, what a beautiful sequence of numbers! that sequence of numbers makes me want to serve my neighbor, or worship the Creator, or do my visiting teaching, or feel the love of the Savior in my life. but...then i thought about sunsets and sunrises. there are certain color combinations that are also deemed universally beautiful. sure, a few people may differ, but most would agree that when the sky is filled with the colors of a late summer sunset, as wordsworth said, their heart leaps up when they behold it. the same thing happens with taste, though to a lesser degree in my opinion.
so, what is it? what is it about certain chord combinations that are so inherently appealing to the mind and especially the heart? how do some songs sound so familiar? and how can we rise on wings of song--rise to the heights of the heavens, and change our lives, and become more like the Savior...all though chord and cadence combinations?
short side note here--i recently become a fan of ipods but i thought i would never have one because they are way too expensive for my "i continually leave the country and have cut my meals down to 1.5 a day" college student budget. but through luck, or chance, or the spaciness of my sister, i came to inherit a free one for christmas. i guess it was more of a gift than an inheritance, but inherit sounds better in this context. and since then i have used it extensively, involving the 10 minutes it takes to walk to campus in the morning and the 10 minutes it takes to walk home every day.
really, listening to my ipod while walking to campus has changed my life. i usually walk alone, as i get to campus so early and leave so late that most of campus is still asleep or has already left for the night. but ever since i got my ipod, i no longer walk alone. sometimes i walk to campus with Sister Hinkley, and sometimes with Elder Holland and President Eyring, and sometimes when it is really cold and my breath freezes and smacks me in the face as i walk along, i walk with my friends from hawaii. or any place tropical, really.
but last night i was walking home with todd mccabe and april moriarty. they have these beautiful, magnificent hymn arrangements for piano and violin, and they are spectacular. some of my favorites include "in humility, our Savior," "He is risen," and "beautiful Savior." the songs have beautiful melodies in and of themselves, but something about the lilting rising and falling of the violin brings the beauty from my mind to my heart--as though the violin bow was playing on my very heart strings and the music is resonating through my spirit.
as i was listening to "beautiful Savior," i started thinking about note, chord, and cadence combinations. there is one musical phrase that is my particular favorite in this rendition, where the violin repeats a musical phrase "fair are the meadows, fairer the woodlands," and the second phrase rises a thrid higher than the first, with the violin doing a little grace note. it is my favorite phrase in the whole song. why could something this simple be my favorite phrase? how is this chord sequence different than those directly before and those after? and how can a chord sequence inspire such thoughts of beauty, of reverence for my Creator, of worship and devotion?
then i started thinking about the chord structures and cadences that are deemed "naturally" beautiful (it was a long 10 minutes...). take the circle of fifths, for example. that chord sequence is so universally pleasing, it doesn't take any musical training to realize that when a cadence ends in a circle of fifths it just sounds "right." but why are these musical elements so universal, even eternal? it is just because note values mathematically add up correctly? and does this work with our other senses?
it does. first i thought that it doesn't work with anything but music, because i thought to myself, no one looks at a combination of numbers, say 68429, and thinks, oh, wow, what a beautiful sequence of numbers! that sequence of numbers makes me want to serve my neighbor, or worship the Creator, or do my visiting teaching, or feel the love of the Savior in my life. but...then i thought about sunsets and sunrises. there are certain color combinations that are also deemed universally beautiful. sure, a few people may differ, but most would agree that when the sky is filled with the colors of a late summer sunset, as wordsworth said, their heart leaps up when they behold it. the same thing happens with taste, though to a lesser degree in my opinion.
so, what is it? what is it about certain chord combinations that are so inherently appealing to the mind and especially the heart? how do some songs sound so familiar? and how can we rise on wings of song--rise to the heights of the heavens, and change our lives, and become more like the Savior...all though chord and cadence combinations?
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
is it wrong to want to do everything...all at once?
so recently I have been thinking about grad school, and recently meaning for the past three or so years. but recently i have been thinking more about it. with 2 majors and 2 minors, i have several choices. just yesterday, i was thinking that i am really interested in religions...how do people worship and why do people worship? this is after last week realizing that i wanted to get my masters in comparative semitic literature...because that will change the world! and then today i realized that i love my english classes and i love my english major...maybe i should go to grad school in english literature, or creative writing so i can improve my blog posts. but then yesterday it struck me...maybe i should work for the CIA, or at least intern for them! i mean, how exciting would it be to be a CIA agent? and with my mad language skills, i would have a ball. but would i really fit in with all that excitement when i am such an academic?
and then i realize that i am sick of the academic world and i am ready for some high class action...chasing spies, legally (or illegally, depending on which country's point of view) trespassing, having a job so secret that i can't even tell my family what i did for work that day. and as Lina said, i am already really really good at lying, and i never stay in one place for more than four months anyway, and i have lived out of the country, and i know hebrew and arabic and i dream in farsi and i attend russian classes...and i can play the "inbetweener" with taking sides with everyone and no one at the same time...
and then i think about all those literature classes i would miss. and the endless hours of memorizing thirty thousand ways of vowelling semitic names, and guessing which ones the professors will use on the test. and learning how to vowel arabic documents. and dealing with professors that think they know everything and you know nothing, because of the letters beside their name. and falling asleep while i am doing my homework--8 times in a 10 page article--because it is so boring. and laundromats a block away and cinderblock apartments and too many roommates and too few bathrooms and mold and riding my bike with crooked handlebars in the ice, and getting boils like Job and viewing the glorious summer from the dirty window of the library. and losing my vision from studying too much.
can you see why i have a hard time deciding?
and then today, i re-realized my dream of becoming a photo-journalist. i want to tell peoples' stories. i want to tell the stories of the west bank and gaza and nigeria and cuba and every other place that has a story to tell with photos--story-telling photos, ones that make you think and feel. and dream. and take action against the horrors of the world. and then i want to write all of the stories of my photographs. and then i want to translate them into cuneiform and hieroglyphics and carve them on the walls of ancient temples that are buried under mounds of earth. and then i want to sing those stories for the world to hear. and then i want to start all over again, but this time do everything i didn't do the first time around.
is that too much to ask?
and then i realize that i am sick of the academic world and i am ready for some high class action...chasing spies, legally (or illegally, depending on which country's point of view) trespassing, having a job so secret that i can't even tell my family what i did for work that day. and as Lina said, i am already really really good at lying, and i never stay in one place for more than four months anyway, and i have lived out of the country, and i know hebrew and arabic and i dream in farsi and i attend russian classes...and i can play the "inbetweener" with taking sides with everyone and no one at the same time...
and then i think about all those literature classes i would miss. and the endless hours of memorizing thirty thousand ways of vowelling semitic names, and guessing which ones the professors will use on the test. and learning how to vowel arabic documents. and dealing with professors that think they know everything and you know nothing, because of the letters beside their name. and falling asleep while i am doing my homework--8 times in a 10 page article--because it is so boring. and laundromats a block away and cinderblock apartments and too many roommates and too few bathrooms and mold and riding my bike with crooked handlebars in the ice, and getting boils like Job and viewing the glorious summer from the dirty window of the library. and losing my vision from studying too much.
can you see why i have a hard time deciding?
and then today, i re-realized my dream of becoming a photo-journalist. i want to tell peoples' stories. i want to tell the stories of the west bank and gaza and nigeria and cuba and every other place that has a story to tell with photos--story-telling photos, ones that make you think and feel. and dream. and take action against the horrors of the world. and then i want to write all of the stories of my photographs. and then i want to translate them into cuneiform and hieroglyphics and carve them on the walls of ancient temples that are buried under mounds of earth. and then i want to sing those stories for the world to hear. and then i want to start all over again, but this time do everything i didn't do the first time around.
is that too much to ask?
An apology for my boring blog, or in other words, why my life is so naturally uncreative
So today I randomly stumbled across someone's blog while I was supposed to be doing homework. I saw on Facebook that my friend, whose opinion I highly respect, had stated that she had fallen in love with said blog. My curiosity was naturally piqued and I looked it up. I was amazed, astounded really. There was so much personality in the blog--even the colors contributed to this sense of personality and uniqueness. And none of the letters were capitalized, ala ee cummings. She even had a poem by ee cummings. I read some of her posts and I thought, I want to be like her! There is so much freedom in her expression of these brilliant thoughts--why don't I think this way?
Then I realized what it was. I started forming a blog entry that was brilliant. The thoughts just seemed to flow out of my head, free-expression style. I pictured my blog becoming famous from this one post. And then I pictured putting it in blog format: with semi-colons, commas, periods, and structured sentences. The free brilliance of the blog crashed down along with my dreams of sounding brilliant.
And then I realized my problem--I am too structured in public! I have a brilliant idea and it sounds wonderful in my mind, but then when I try to put it into practice, I realize that I would look like an idiot, and I can't afford to look like an idiot. Not with the jobs that I have, not with the people that I know, not if I want to get into grad school...I must use topic sentences and periods and semi-colons in the correct places, with no run-ons and no fragments! My life must be a beautifully structured essay!
And then I realized, I am an English major! When have you met an English major that was normal, even at BYU? My English major friend (whose comment led me to said blog) just recently shaved her head and when her hair started growing back, dyed it turquoise! And she was telling me about her BYU English major friend, who had to shave her short hair because she is being recruited by lots of prestigious grad schools and her hair was blue...not the best way to represent BYU!
So, I realized, it is time to make my life a poem instead of a structured essay. I don't think I am ready for the blue hair or shaved head yet, but maybe I will have run-on sentences every once in a while. maybe i will even leave off my capitalization--it will give me character. maybe i will write with pen and, instead of leaving room for error, i will keep white-out with me. and maybe i will leave some of the fragments and come back to them later--maybe they will fit in better with my poetic life as opposed to my structured essay!
But maybe I am not ready for poetry yet...perhaps "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" describes me more than I am willing to admit...
"I have measured out my life with coffee spoons..."
Then I realized what it was. I started forming a blog entry that was brilliant. The thoughts just seemed to flow out of my head, free-expression style. I pictured my blog becoming famous from this one post. And then I pictured putting it in blog format: with semi-colons, commas, periods, and structured sentences. The free brilliance of the blog crashed down along with my dreams of sounding brilliant.
And then I realized my problem--I am too structured in public! I have a brilliant idea and it sounds wonderful in my mind, but then when I try to put it into practice, I realize that I would look like an idiot, and I can't afford to look like an idiot. Not with the jobs that I have, not with the people that I know, not if I want to get into grad school...I must use topic sentences and periods and semi-colons in the correct places, with no run-ons and no fragments! My life must be a beautifully structured essay!
And then I realized, I am an English major! When have you met an English major that was normal, even at BYU? My English major friend (whose comment led me to said blog) just recently shaved her head and when her hair started growing back, dyed it turquoise! And she was telling me about her BYU English major friend, who had to shave her short hair because she is being recruited by lots of prestigious grad schools and her hair was blue...not the best way to represent BYU!
So, I realized, it is time to make my life a poem instead of a structured essay. I don't think I am ready for the blue hair or shaved head yet, but maybe I will have run-on sentences every once in a while. maybe i will even leave off my capitalization--it will give me character. maybe i will write with pen and, instead of leaving room for error, i will keep white-out with me. and maybe i will leave some of the fragments and come back to them later--maybe they will fit in better with my poetic life as opposed to my structured essay!
But maybe I am not ready for poetry yet...perhaps "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" describes me more than I am willing to admit...
"I have measured out my life with coffee spoons..."
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