The Chocolate Fight Club of the D'Ubervilles

I've been reading The Chocolate War by Robert Cormier.  I finished it last night.  Robert Cormier is known for writing....questionable books.  He wrote I Am The Cheese, a book about a disturbed young man who has a less than firm grasp on reality.  He wrote Tenderness, which is about a teen aged psychopath serial killer and rapist and the girl who becomes obsessed with him.  Supposedly Cormier says that he wants to write "real people in dramatic situations that will keep people turning pages."  That generally translates into books that parents don't really want their children to read.  The Chocolate War seems to have a permanent home on the ALA's 100 most banned books list, sitting around #3 for years now.

First of all, a tangent about my opinion on censorship.  It's stupid.  Always.  Ok, maybe not always, but pretty dang nearly.  That is to say that I grew up reading things that would probably be considered wildly inappropriate for my age range.  A rather tame example--I remember checking out Robin McKinley's The Blue Sword when I was in...4th grade maybe?  and the librarian looked at the cover, looked at me in my wee 4th gradedness, and said "are you sure you should be reading this?  I think you might be a little too young..."  To which I responded "My mom doesn't care what I read, and I promise you this will be fine."  Admittedly, had my mom been there she probably would have qualified that statement.  I think possibly the reason my mom "didn't care what I read" is because I have always had remarkably good taste in books.  But it was the truth.  I don't think my mom could have cared less if I was reading an innocuous fantasy book, even if it did have semisortofnotreallyoblique sexual references.  And, being in 4th grade, those went right over my head and I didn't realize exactly what was happening in them till I reread the book later in life.  And that's the point.  If you're old enough to be interested in the story then read the story.  If there are "mature" themes then you'll be "mature" enough to understand them so whatever or you won't be and they'll go over your head.  And I personally intend to cultivate the sort of relationship with my kids that they know they can ask me about anything if they have questions.  Censorship, in my humble opinion, is for cowards who don't want to have to think about hard questions.

What is that honey? You want to know WHY he hates
 green eggs and ham?  Hmm...I'm not sure this book is appropriate for you...

Which is a long way of saying that banning a book like The Chocolate War is stupid.  A.) banning something is a good way to make it a heck of a lot more appealing and exciting than it was before and B.) if they want to read it let them read it.

That being said...I absolutely hated this book.

So much.

Plot synopsis:  Jerry Renault attends Trinity Catholic School where authority is divided between the teachers, and The Vigils, a secret school gang.  The school has a chocolate sale coming up and Brother Leon, the acting headmaster, solicits the help of the Vigils to make sure it goes well.  But Jerry refuses to sell, trying to find some way to assert his rejection of the tyrannical mob rule and cruelty he sees in the school.  Jerry's refusal sparks a mild rebellion amongst the student body and the chocolate sale is lagging terribly. But when the Vigils do get behind the sale, suddenly it takes off.  Whether or not they are legitimate results, every student but Jerry is credited with achieving their sales goals.  Jerry becomes the focus of a vicious mental and physical campaign of intimidation. After suffering a group beating, Jerry's frustration and anger come to a boil so that he can be tricked into an unfair public fight with a bully.  Jerry ends up getting beaten within an inch of his life.  His jaw and ribs are broken and he is unconscious, taken away in an ambulance.  Archie, the architect of this all, appears to be on the verge of punishment until Brother Leon shows up and waves it all away with a "boys will be boys" philosophy.

It's all fun and games till someone breaks their jaw and has to get it wired...

And that is the end of the book.

I finished reading this book at 3:30 am this morning and as I closed the back cover I felt an unfamiliar sensation.  For the first time in a very long time I felt legitimately angry.  I mean, like....anger!  Those of you who know me know I don't really get angry.  I get frustrated and annoyed and anti social but not really angry.  As it turns out, one of the very very few things that make me angry is...can you guess from the title of this post?  Books!  The last time I was angry like this was after reading the introduction to Chuck Palahniuk's Fight Club (I didn't make it past the introduction because it made me so angry). And before that it was on the train from Paris to London as I read Tess of the D'Ubervilles and fought the urge to hurl it across the car and brain some innocent bystander...er...sitter.

I was so angry that I couldn't sleep.  I pulled my phone out and typed an angry ranty email to my friend as the only vent I had to my feelings.

Because how can this not be therapeutic?
(Also, this picture came from this tumblr:
 http://www.flickr.com/photos/wagerber/3068239625/sizes/m/in/photostream/ )

So I was angry, you get it.  Why was I so angry?

Do you remember how a lot of people said they didn't like The Dark Knight because it was just "too dark for me"?  My response to that was always the same.  The Dark Knight had to be dark a.) because it's in the name and b.) because there must be dark to see the light.  The reason I rank that movie as one of the best films of all time (for seriousness, I do) is because it makes the argument that People, as a whole, are good.  This is an argument that seems to be out of vogue these days, which makes me sad.  Hence I am so in love with The Dark Knight.  What?  People are good?  They won't just...kill everyone else to save themselves?  How refreshing!

Contrast that with Cormier's story.  At it's most reduced, basic level, Cormier has written the story of how all people are either vicious, remorseless, cruel bullies, or they're cowards who let the bullies have their way.

And that is what makes me angry: the presumption of any man on earth to imply such a degenerate image of mankind.  I find that it...offends me to read such a picture of humanity.  Don't misunderstand me--I am well aware of the horrifically long history our species has for cruelty.  But I am also aware that in every single account of depravity there will be stories of  compassion and fellowship.  If humans have the ability to appall each other with their cruelty, surely they also have the ability to astound us with their nobility and love?

cliche but applicable...

So who is a man like Cormier....or Palahnuik or Thomas Hardy...to reject that spark of goodness?  I understand the urge to write "reality" and there is certainly enough hatred, violence, and cruelty in the world. But I must protest on two counts.  The first is that, if you want to write reality, you can't ignore those bright shining lights of goodness no matter how misanthropic a view of humanity you have.  And the second is that if you write a story like The Chocolate War or Fight Club and send it out into this dark world and people read it and see nothing but more darkness then what have you done but convince them of the futility of goodness and light?

I guess what made me so angry was the way the book seemed to have given up on goodness.  None of the characters felt any remorse for their actions or even appeared to have any awareness that they had behaved incorrectly.  I do believe that all people have an inherent goodness in them--we Mormons call it the Inner Light of Christ, but you can call it whatever you want.  It boils down to a conscience.  The ability to know that good is good and evil is evil (evil, as distinct from "badness" which is open to interpretation).  I reject the idea that goodness doesn't exist and that people, if left unchecked, will devolve into depravity.  I stand up for goodness.

Little Miss Sunshine: Real Life Sucks

I've always been intrigued by Greg Kinnear's carier.  These are the Greg Kinnear movies I've seen:

Ghost Town
Little Miss Sunshine
Robots
Stuck On You
Someone Like You
Mystery Men
You've Got Mail
As Good As It Gets
Sabrina

Since I'm sure you didn't click on that link, I feel it important to let you know that those eight films come from a 49 title body of work that is really pretty impressive.  Which is to say that my impression of his career may not be at all accurate.  But the impression that I've gotten from Greg Kinnear is that, when he's not playing a little bit of a jerk: Sabrina, You've Got Mail, Ghost Town, Little Miss Sunshine, Someone Like You, Mystery Men, Robots...dang...I never realized how he's a bit of a jerk in, like, virtually ever movie I've ever seen him in...anyway, when he isn't playing that character he is playing really nice guys who gets a bit taken advantage of.  A little like James Marsden (I was so happy to see him finally get the girl in 27 Dresses...finally he got to play someone other than the nice guy who gets screwed!).

Look at him...bein' so nice!

His two personas overlap in the movie Little Miss Sunshine.  I just watched it again today.  I love that movie so much.  I mean...so much.  So much that I'm writing a blog post about it.  And why do I love it so much?  Because of the way Greg Kinnear's two personas overlap, and how that is representative of the entire film.  That is to say, I love Little Miss Sunshine because in that movie every single character's life goes completely to hell, and those series of events and the characters' reactions are so exquisitely true to life.

If you haven't seen the movie then I guess....spoilers?  It's not really a film you can spoil, but whatever.  I'll put a break and you can make your choices...

The summer of Emily!

Except that it is the Summer of Emily.

Or, even more accurately, The Summer of Adventure!

I wanted it to be the Summer of Sewing, but I do not yet have a sewing machine.  So I decided to start my Summer of Adventure by making a trip I've been thinking about for a long time.

This is Spiral Jetty.  It's a giant piece of installation artwork on the northern end of The Great Salt Lake

Here's a map, to give you an idea what I mean:

It's not quite 3 hours from Provo.  While I was not aware exactly where the thing was located, I have wanted to see it for a really long time.  So I decided last week that I was going to go.  Even after I found out how far away it is.  Callie was unsure at first, (she said the thought of driving for three hours to a place that was not her home seemed ridiculous) but she eventually decided to come along.

So, as it turns out, there are actually two jetties out there on the northern end of The Great Salt Lake.  There is the Spiral Jetty, and then there is another, longer, straighter, more nameless jetty just a little before it.  Amusingly enough, I only just learned this a few minutes ago, along with the sad realization that...we never actually made it to Spiral Jetty.

How did I not notice, you may well be wondering, that this jetty did no spiraling whatsoever?  That this jetty was in one tenaciously straight line?  Because it was half underwater is how.  Go look at that picture again, and you'll see that there is a long stretch from shore that is perfectly straight, yes?  Well, I didn't know how big the thing was, so when I saw that the end of the jetty was underwater I just assumed that it was really really big, and underwater and all we could see was the straight bit, with a little bit of a bend at the end.  And I'm not too bright.  So sue me.  The salt flats weren't what I was expecting either when I went to see them last summer because they, too, were underwater so I just figured I had really bad luck...

That being said, the jetty we did see was pretty freakin' amazing!

It was gorgeous and sunny with a fair wind.  My hair spent the entire time rebelling and blowing in my face.  Which was pretty cool I guess...

Callie always looks so adorable...darn her...

Fun fact: seagulls and herons in flight make the most fantastic
squdgy sound as they flap...

this is my favorite picture

In addition to my wish to see Spiral Jetty, I also came up with this strange goal: I wanted to walk out to to the end and I wanted to have my own crazy ipod dance party.  Which I totally did.

I had to pick my way across the "washed out" bit of the jetty
and try to keep my shoes dry.  Totally nailed it.

Callie didn't want to get her shoes wet, so she did not come with me to the very end.  So all by myself I took out my ipod, turned on some Rihanna "We Found Love in a Hopeless Place", and started dancing.  Well, technically it took me about a song to get into it.  But I danced for about three songs out there, waving my arms like a crazy person and trying really hard not to twist my ankles on loose rocks.  It was...pretty fantastic.


Though Spiral Jetty was the primary goal of our trip, we made an unexpected detour on the way there.  The road out led us right past the Golden Spike National Historic Site.  We were planning just driving past, but as we approached it we saw two big, beautiful, steam engines gleaming in the sunlight.  We couldn't resist.  We got there just in time for the end of...the reenactment!  Yeah!  Apparently, for maybe two or three weeks, around the anniversary of the driving of the final nail, they do daily reenactments of the historic moment, and bring out those two fantastic steam engines.  We got to watch them pound the spikes in and Callie got a picture holding one of them.

Then we got to wander around the trains taking pictures of them.  I thought the man on this one looked pretty legitimate.

Then, on the way home, after The Jetty That is Not a Spiral, we realized that the place where we got off the freeway (exit 365, in case you were wondering) was not actually a place where you can also get back on the freeway (who does that?) so we ended up taking an involuntary, but very charming drive through downtown Brigham City.  I wanted to buy some lovely blue flats I'd seen at H&M in London (vainly hoped they would also exist here...not so much) so we stopped there and Callie bought some new butter yellow keds to replace the shoes she had managed to cover with tar on our trip.

Our last stop before finally getting back to Provo was the Asian market, where I bought two bags of the milk-flavored chews I love so much, two boxes of mochi ice cream, and a bag of these really fantastic marshmallows filled with orange jelly.  Oh, and a weird pseudo ice cream cone for Calie

looked like a milkshake that melted and then re-congealed...mmm!

And then it was back to Provo to watch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind with John, Bryan, Summer, and Kat.  I love that movie and I always will.  It is just so fantastic.  It was made even more fantastic when I came home and saw the "super moon" floating over my complex.  Quite beautiful!

So, I guess I'll have to make another trip out to Spiral Jetty one of these days since I still technically haven't seen it.  I'll admit, I'm a little bummed out that we didn't ever actually make it, but really, it's pretty funny.  And luckily, next week's adventure is Hoggle Zoo in Salt Lake.  I don't think there will be any sort of secret "second" zoo to get me confused so I'll have to end up in the right place at the right time.  I'll keep you posted...

A Declaration of Self

I debated for a long while whether or not I wanted to post this, and then whether or not I wanted to post all of it.  But, obviously, in the end I decided to share it exactly as I wrote it because most of the time I choose not to say the thing I want to say and I don't know if that is the right decision always.  So this time I'm saying it and we'll see what happens.  This post is dedicated to a good friend of mine, that he may do with it what he wishes:

I have amazing friends.  Amazing, brilliant, ambitious friends who plan to go out into the world and set it on fire.  I have friends who plan on going and putting out those fires when they get out of control.  I look at my friends and I know that the future of this world is in good hands. 

But that’s not me.  When the time comes for that conversation and everyone is laying out their Lives of Awesomeness I am content to let them talk.  Because I plan on living a small life. 

A small life, not to be confused with an unimportant life, is one concerned with small things.  It is not a life that takes in the grand sweep of politics and the swirling world-governing laws of science.  It is a life centered on people.  A life centered on my future family.  A life that may travel the world, but will never move it—at least, not overtly. 

Perhaps the most inflammatory essay I ever wrote centered on the two different types of civic involvement.  I referenced the schools of thought of W.E.B. Dubois and Booker T. Washington from the Civil Rights Era (I was, at the time, applying these philosophies to issues of feminism).  Dubois was a staunch advocate of aggressive and even violent change.  If the world isn’t right then you scream and kick and shove until it is.  Make people notice you.  Make people notice the problem.  Make people change!  Washington, on the other hand, espoused almost the polar opposite policy.  If the world isn’t right then tuck in and do the best you can.  Work hard, live right by yourself, and eventually people will notice.  Right comes out in the end. 

Then and now I unabashedly align myself with Washington.  I am so glad that we have Duboisians and I am so glad that I do not have to be one of them.  Both are, I think, required to change the world and it is for that reason that I feel no embarrassment, shame, or guilt for my lifestyle.

And what, exactly, is my lifestyle?  It is a life in progress.  I am not perfect, in fact I am so far from it that I don’t think I could see perfect with one of those telescopes that they use to look at planets in other galaxies. 

But I am trying to, and mostly succeeding in, being happy.

I live a life that revolves around books and movies and jokes and thinking and most importantly of all, my life revolves around the people I love.  Those of you who know me the best hopefully know that that is true.  I live life on an individual basis, not a grand scope. 

These are all broad, practically generic statements.  I’m struggling to express myself adequately without getting caught up in unnecessary detail but I feel that doing so is reducing my thoughts to truisms.  I can only assure you that I mean what I say. 

What do I most want to say? 

I know who I am and I am happy with that person.  I have chosen the life that I am leading and I am satisfied with that choice.  I love so many things in this world and I am happy that I get to experience them all and live this small life of mine.  I am so glad that I have the luxury of forming my own future and growing slowly into the person I want to be.

And if my small life doesn’t seem up to par with yours, then you can go to hell. 

The Descendants

Don't worry, I'll be writing up the rest of my Europe adventure soon.  But I wanted to write this up tonight while I was thinking about it...and it's sort of connected to my trip...

My flights to and from Europe were, as expected, exceedingly long.  I watched many movies.  The last movie I watched was The Descendants

In case you haven't heard of it, The Descendants is the movie that scooped up all the awards that were leftover after The Artist swept through (incidentally, I also watched The Artist on my flight and I highly recommend it--so awesome!).  Briefly, it is about a man who has to reevaluate his life when his wife is critically injured in a boating accident just when he is also facing a massive financial decision.  His relationship with his home, his heritage, and his two daughters are all examined.  That so doesn't do the movie justice, but it is enough to be going one with.

Now, as I say, this was the last movie I watched, and I didn't quite time it right.  I was about 15-20 minutes from the end of the movie when the plane started to land and they turned the movie off.  It was sort of in the midst of a major moment and I was like "WHA.....???!"  So last Thursday, when my good friend John asked me if I wanted to come over and watch The Descendants with him and Bryan I jumped at the chance.  Not only was I willing to watch the movie again when it wasn't on a wretched 4" LCD chair-screen, but I was dying to know how it ended.

One of the things I really loved about this movie was George Clooney's character, Matt King.  He is a good man who knows how and when to control himself--a trait I value incredibly highly.  When he finds out that his wife was cheating on him his first priority is to protect his daughters.  His eldest already knows, but his youngest, a challenging 10 year old, has no idea.  At one point his older daughter goes in to see her mother and starts shouting accusations at her.  He pulls her aside and pleads with her "Don't ruin your mother for Scotty!"  I loved that so much.  And I loved that only one time do you see him cave in and vent some of the massive anger you know he must be feeling.  For a brief moment he is alone with his wife and he breaks down shouting at her.  But very quickly he collects himself and you never see that anger expressed again.  Not even in the face of his father-in-law's cruel and unfair accusations.  I can't really explain how much this meant to me.  So often stories glamorize and advocate the lack of control as the only "real" way to experience emotions and I think this movie was a beautiful contrast.

But my favorite scene was the last one.  The scene I missed on my flight.  It isn't anything dramatic or exciting.  It's just one long straight shot, as though you're looking out of their living room TV right at their couch.  Scotty, the youngest, is tucked into a corner, wrapped in her mother's old blanket, and you see her father coming back from the kitchen with two bowls.  He sits down next to her and hands her one bowl, filled with strawberry ice cream, and pulls the blanket over himself as well while holding his bowl of mocha chip.  They sit there, eating their ice cream, watching a documentary narrated by Morgan Freeman, and you can see the elder daughter walk by in the background.  She pauses, then comes in to the room and perches on the edge of the couch next to her father.  He scoots over so she has room and pulls the blanket over her as well, while she sinks back into the couch against him.  After he settles the blanket over her, he hands her his bowl of ice cream and they all watch the TV.  He reaches over and takes a bite of strawberry ice cream, the camera watches them watching the show, and then the scene ends.

After the movie ended they asked me where exactly I'd gotten cut off the first time.  I told them and explained how sad that was because that last scene was my favorite in the whole movie.  Callie agreed, but then scoffed "Except...I'd love to see any family that actually does that.  Everyone sits on the same couch, under the same blanket, with only two bowls of ice cream?"

It was one of those moments where you feel yourself creating a future memory in your head.  The moment where something hits that perfect soft spot in your soul and you know that one day you will recreate that moment in your own life.  That's how I felt about that scene as I was watching it.  Then, when Callie scoffed at it I was sad, as though she was telling me that I couldn't create that in my own future family one day.  That beautiful moment of unity and comfort.

But I will create that.  I will have a moment under the same blanket, sharing ice cream, all on the same couch with my children.  And when that moment happens, I will look at my life from above for just one second and I will see that I have fulfilled my dream and my soul will be completely and utterly content for a heartbeat.

Cultural Education Times

Fun Fact: weddings are a big deal.  Always.

I'm currently in Germany for two reasons.  The first is because I've wanted to come back to Europe ever since I left it four years ago.  The second, and rather more important, is that my good friend Ralf is getting married.  Strike that...he now IS married.  At least, part way.

So, we got the news last fall that he was engaged and I decided right then and there that I was going to be at the wedding.  As it turned out, it wasn't quite that simple, since Ralf and Marlene decided that they were going to pick a date two weeks before the end of my semester.  However, I somehow worked it all out, and here I am.

Today was the first day of the wedding.  That's right, it's a two day affair.  Today was the civil service, which is a quite small affair, and then tomorrow is the big religious ceremony that will be attended by about 160 people.  Today was when they go to the equivalent of the city hall (the village...office of bureaucracy?) with only their very immediate family and get married legally.  Ralf's parents and his two sisters (with respective boyfriends) were there, as well as a cousin he used to be best friends with when they were young.  Marlene's two brothers, her sister and sister's fiance and their baby, her parents, and her grandparents were there.  And me and Kara.  I felt mildly out of place for a moment.  But then they asked me to take a lot of pictures for them and I didn't feel so out of place.  Alas, unlike an American city hall, which would be boring and beige and have recessed fluorescent lighting making everyone looked green, their city hall equivalent was...in a crypt?  It was in a stone-built basement space that really did seem incredibly crypt-like.  Either way, it was really wretched lighting and most of my pictures came out blurry so I won't really be able to help the family out after all.  Not to mention, I decided it would be cool to video the actual ceremony, so about three minutes after the dude started giving his speech, once I realized he was speechafying rather than just asking everyone to sit down and shut up, I started recording.  I handed the camera to Kara because she had a much better view, but we eventually decided that perhaps we should stop videoing until something interesting happened.  Which meant that Kara turned the video off.  And then they stood up to exchange vows.  Kara ran over to the aisle so she could get a really great shot of the the minister between their two backs and caught the whole thing perfectly.  Except she forgot to actually turn the video back on to record.  So really all she got was her own nice view of the vows.  And Ralf and Marlene have a nice long video of their minister talking forever.  I hope he was at least interesting.  Alas, I have no idea...

Because I don't speak German.  Turns out "lending a hand" is 100% easier and less frustrating when you can actually understand what is happening around you.  Kara and I spent a hefty part of this morning just standing around wishing we knew what was going on so that we could help.  Even just getting to the hall was hard because no one seemed to know what was going into what car, including us.  Also, it turns out that if you get a crowd of Germans in a room and you want them to accomplish something you should give them about 50 times longer than you think they'll really need.  We stood around doing absolutely nothing for a solid hour after the wedding service trying to figure out when and where to sit down.  Eventually we did sit down to tables that Kara and I had set up the day before for Sabine, Ralf's mother.  We ate possibly the most delicious soup on the face of the earth.  It looked like this:

It looked sort of completely terrifying, but turned out to be heavenly.  Those cubes are actually egg, prepared some mysterious way so that the yolk and white were completely homogeneous.

Here's a picture of the table settings and Marlene's flowers

Kara took that picture.  The dinner was lovely, except for the part where the guy handing Kara her plate knocked over her champagne flute full of orange juice and some of it got on my camera.  I was real worried, but turns out it was ok.  There was also a stinkin' cute baby girl there who, aside from a really unfortunate mullet decision by her parents, was skull-explodingly adorable.  This is another of Kara's pictures, showing her in all her cuteness wearing the fabulous little baby sweater I want to learn how to knit:

Ok, so that picture doesn't really show the sweater.  But it shows her insane cuteness in profile.


Anyway. Enough pictures for now because it is taking forever to load them and I need to go to bed 18 minutes ago.  So, after the luncheon Kara and I were put in charge of clearing off and putting away all the tables and chairs, which we completed with admirable swiftness.  All of us then trouped home (siblings, parents, significant others, and us Americans) and changed out of our nice clothes so we could go to the other hall where we'll be having the other service tomorrow.

This was where the insanity really began.  Remember how I said weddings are a big deal?  Remember how I said a bunch of Germans in a room are completely incapable of just getting to work?  Yeah, both of these facts were forcibly demonstrated to me today.  Along with the conviction that when it comes to setting up tables and chairs and covering those tables with table cloths...just trust the Mormons.  Seriously.  We have years of experience with these things.  We really do know the best way to fit the tables in and still leave room for the caterers.  Alas, they did not trust the Mormons, and they were a bunch of Germans (and one of them is a physicist!  I should have already known we were screwed!).  So we literally spent 40 minutes just trying to figure out exactly where the tables should go.  Part of this involved the most perniciously fastidious measuring of distances I've ever seen.  Heaven preserve us from a table one or two millimeters out of line!  Also, I think there really is some truth to the idea that Americans are obsessed with work.  In the time it took Kara and I to fold all 160 napkins (into chicken's feet, if you listen to her, though I thought they looked nice enough) They managed to...put two strips of ribbon on all the tables?  I think they also managed to put out a few glasses.  Most of the people there were actually eating some of Marlene's lovely chocolate cherry cake, or sitting and chatting.  After Kara and I finished the napkins we took over putting out the glasses (water and wine) and trying to make sure that all the wine glasses matched.  We kept having to work around the two or three guys who spent pretty much the entirety of the 5 hours we were preparing the hall going around making infinitesimal adjustments to the silverware, chair, and table placements to make sure that they were all lined up absolutely perfectly!  I've never seen such obsession over alignment in my life.  And so completely unnecessary....

After five hours of this Kara and I were ready to go home.  The fact is, there really was only enough work there for about three hours had everyone chipped in and worked hard.  Instead we drug it out by an extra two and that knowledge was wearing on the two of us.  Except that we realized that probably much of our frustration would have been eased had we known what anyone was saying at any point during the entire process.  For one thing we could only ever wait for Ralf or his sister Andrea or Joe (the American exchange student of years gone by) to tell us what to do.  No one else felt comfortable talking to the Americans.  For another, no one but those three could understand when we made suggestions, so we were pretty much completely ignored every time.  But despite all that, when we came back from a trip to the grocery store with Ralf we were forced to admit that the hall did look quite lovely.  I will admit that I was worried.  There are no less than four different reds on those tables, and not a one of them matching.  But from a distance they sort of all blend together and you don't notice so much.

Tangent about the floor:  instead of the traditional boards, cut in long strips along the grain of the wood, this floor was made of the perpendicular ends of the boards.  That is, if you took the ends of all those long boards and stuck them all in together, you'd have this floor.  It was a fascinating pattern of half-arches and I'm going to take a picture of it as soon as we get back tomorrow.  Bryan will love it!

Anyway, we finally made it home--all of us wiped out.  Tomorrow Kara and I have to get up early so that we can move our things to a neighbor's house, where we'll be spending Saturday night.  Some 20 or so cousins are descending upon this house tomorrow, or so we've been told.  I can only assume they'll be packed over the floor much like the Africans were on those old Spanish slave galleys back in the 15th century.  Kara and I (as well as Kami and Joseph when they return from Berlin) will get a full apartment to ourselves in said neighbor's basement and I'm perfectly willing to relocate for that kind of space and privacy.  I believe we'll be back Sunday night, though, since someone in the family is supposed to be driving us to the airport Monday morning.

I'm both excited and nervous for tomorrow.  On the one hand, it will be nice to see all our work from yesterday put to use.  The ceremony tomorrow is much grander and I think it will be much more comparable to an American wedding.  I'm quite looking forward to the experience (though not so much to the open bar, especially combined with the dancing we've been told to expect in the evening).  However, the temperature here has been dropping every day and tomorrow is supposed to be the coldest day so far.  Of course, the day I'll be wearing a thin little dress!  I may die, and I'm sure Kara definitely will.  But we'll power through as best we can and hopefully I'll get some great pictures to show you all tomorrow!

Lastly here's a picture of the happy couple just after they were married.  I'm excited to see her fer rlz wedding dress tomorrow!

Adventure and Discovery

I only have classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays this semester, which has been one of the greatest decisions of my life.  Especially on "long weekends" like the one we just had.  See, my normal weekend is already four days long so I didn't think the long weekend would affect me (effect me?), but with BYU's obsession with mucking about with the calendar suddenly my long weekend turned into a week off!  And over the course of this week off I have done some awesome things.

I sat down and tried to actually plan my life.  I sort of didn't quite plan it as thoroughly as I hoped to, but I've made a good start I think.  I discovered that this is the best possible semester I could have ever have chosen to miss the last two and a half weeks of school.  Truly, it's like it is meant to be.  I went to the library and checked out most of the books I need to read in the next three weeks.  It's a hefty re-useable shopping bag full and I'm pretty excited.

Awesome!  A picture of the exact re-usable bag  that is currently sitting on my backseat stuffed full of YA fiction!

I rediscovered Mumford and Sons and Queen and The Civil Wars, having neglected them for about 9 months.

I played Trivial Pursuit with a lot of people I love and discovered that I'm still really bad at Trivial Pursuit.  Not only that, but as soon as you ask me a question to which I do not know the answer I suddenly become incapable of formulating an answer that is even an appropriate guess.  I believe this phenomenon is responsible for all of those "Americans are such idiots" videos Leno likes to show.

I actually visited some of the people that you see randomly and say "we should totally hang out some time!" and then you completely forget about them.  When I ran into Denise in the JFSB and we said that I said "No, but really.  We're picking a day.  Right now!" and we did and I went and it was awesome.  I went over to their house for dinner on Sunday and I finally met her and Tyson's little boy Will .  He is one of the happiest, calmest, adorable-est babies I've ever met and I can't wait to play with him again.  I played games with the Remys for several hours and had an absolutely lovely time.  Next time I'll have to invite them over to my apartment for dinner.  Whether or not they can come with the baby, at least I can invite them.  I think they'd enjoy games with my roommates.

are we seeing how cute these people are??

On Monday I forced myself out of my comfort zone to go on a snowy adventure with Griffin, Mike, Jessie, and Griffin's cousin Taylor.  Before I went I was not quite to the point of nauseating nervousness, but just shy.  But, as it turned out, I had a really great time.   I mean really.  Such a good time that two days later I'm still thinking about it.

Tuesday I read a book.  I read the entire book.  Then I felt restless and unproductive for having spent the day reading, even though it was homework.  I went into my bedroom, closed the door, and had a killer ipod dance party.  I reveled in the fact that my knee only hurt a teeny bit.  Then I sat on my floor and started drawing illustrations for a children's book that I have decided to make.  Then I watched New Girl with my roommates.  Then I came into my bedroom and started teaching myself to knit while watching Tangled.  I felt better about my productivity, even though I only created one line of stitches.  I'll figure out how to add another line of them!

except I was knitting with much prettier charcoal grey yarn...

And today I read another book.  All of it.  And halfway through I looked at myself reading my book and I suddenly realized that I didn't feel that anxiety of wasting time that I have felt any time I sit and read anymore.  Devoting a second day to reading broke that wall that has slowly built up over the last few years that cut my psyche off from the immense, calming joy that reading has always brought it.  I found that joy again today.  I felt the old familiar annoyance when I had to put my book away and go to work.  Luckily, today I finally got to see our new shop and find out how awesome it is!  We have windows now, and the space is so much lighter and nicer, with the potential to be even more awesome as Caleb continues to finish it.  And Caleb takes such good care of me! He has set up two full tables that are just for me and he says he wants to get me another one so I have "enough space"! He worked all weekend putting up about eight 100-watt lights to make sure I have plenty of light.  He just got me a sonic cleaner and an oven.  He is, without a doubt, the best boss I've ever worked for.  I love my job so much!  And then as I was driving home I realized that working down in Payson will give me the perfect excuse to drive.  See, I love to drive, but I don't really ever have anywhere to go and can't really justify just driving around for no reason when I have to pay for gas.  But now I get to drive 30 minutes to and from work so I don't even have to feel guilty about it.  Awesome!

image searched "driving" and found this.  Why does this picture even exist?

Then I got home and decided completely whimsically and on the spur of the moment to buy my friend's Kindle for no other reason than that she wanted to sell it to me and I want it.  But I'm pretty excited about it.  And my roommates were discussing Lent when I came in, and what they were planning on giving up for their Lenten fasts.  And I have decided that I am going to try to give up something.  I'm going to give up all meanness in my life.  I've been feeling strangely disturbed recently by all the unkindness I've seen around and I think this is the perfect time for me to try and get rid of some that may be of my own creation.

Then end result of all of this is that right now, as I lie here in bed and write this before going to sleep, I feel a great, comforting sense of optimism about my life.  I don't know what it shall be, but I am sure, in this moment, that it will be lovely and that I will be in control of it.  I don't feel that soothing assurance often, so I am luxuriating in it for now.  I am learning how to knit, I'm creating a children's book, I have an awesome job, and I have the benefit of so many wonderful people in my life.  I am grateful.

there is no possible better way to end this post than with a picture of Wil Wheaton.
Fact.