An indulgence, if you will

I am in my late twenties, I am working on a PhD, I am not a groupie, and I have a confession to make. This year, since January, I have religiously watched American Idol Season 8. If I can help it, every Tuesday and Wednesday at 8/7 Central, there I am sitting on my couch "doing homework" and watching/cheering/judging all the way. If I have to miss because of some so-called important life activity such as Class (ho-hum), Church (curse my Heightened Sense of Obligation!), or Socializing (yeah, yeah), I am on the gossip websites the next day to get the full recap.

What is with this new obsession? With the exception of the occasional crazy audition episodes (who doesn't love those?!), I'm fairly certain I have never seen an entire episode before this season. In fact, I may or may not have been one of those who hmmphed and rolled my eyes at all the hype in years past. Maybe.

It could be because I've had a crazy, busy semester and American Idol happens to be on when I get home and sit down to eat dinner.

It could be because of my old roommate who aspires to be the next American Idol herself (although she refuses to join her ward choir until they sing a Cher song).

It could be because of The Blind Guy and his ability to learn whole pieces on the piano in a matter of days, which totally intrigued me from the getgo and of course led me to have to watch so I could find out if he was staying alive in the competition (he's out, as of tonight, by the way. It's okay, though. It was time for him to go...).

It could be because of the aforementioned crazy, busy semester and my desire to find at least some joyful moment in the week to let my hair down and chill for a couple of hours in the evening.

Or it could be the bond I now feel with American Idol because of one fateful youtube video. Which was the reason I almost burned my house down on January 17, 2008, and subsequently picked up a stove-to-ceiling flaming frying pan with my bare hands and threw it out the backdoor and burnt off my bangs in the process. But, that's another story.

Whatever the reason, American Idol is my guilty pleasure this semester. And it's lovely.

Masters of the Universe

I kind of felt like Heman (er...Shewoman?), Master of the Universe last weekend. I never knew I could seemingly control the world around me. This is what happened:

Last weekend, I frolicked in Western Nebraska with a couple of friends. That's right, we frolicked because honestly, what else are you going to do there? I think we literally did everything you could possibly do amongst those windy, sandhill-y plains (Carhenge, Chimney Rock, the Sandhill Crane Migration, the Grand Re-Opening of Safeway in Alliance, NE--this was a BIG deal, by the way...). The trip had everything to do with the people I was with and very little to do with the great entertainment we were going to find once we got there.

(Playing at Carhenge)

But, I digress. On this trip, we pretended to be birdwatchers.

While we were birdwatching, I heard a birdcall I didn't recognize. Abby informed me it was a meadowlark. I asked her to point one out to me when she saw one so I would be able to add it to my list of 7 birds I can readily recognize (robin, quail, cardinal, blue jay, oriole, eagle, and owl...um, I'm only sort of kidding about this...). We were driving along and she saw one sitting on a fencepost. Go here to see/hear a Western Meadowlark. We pulled up beside the silent, unsinging bird. Abby said, "Sing, Meadowlark!" And. It. Did. As if on cue. Evidence #1.

A little while later, while I was perusing a bird book we'd been using to do fake birdwatching, I came across the Sandhill Crane information. Now, this was actually one of the reasons we'd trekked to Western Nebraska--to see the Sandhill Crane Migration. It was really quite cool. By the time I was reading about them, we were out of their main migration zone, which made me kind of sad because I wanted to hear the call of the sandhill cranes described in the book: gar-oo-oo! gar-oo-oo! I casually mentioned, "Dang, I wish we were still in the crane zone so we could hear what they actually sound like." A half-mile down the road, we look in a field to the left to see hundreds of them in a random field.

Evidence #2.

A little while LATER, while hiking around Courthouse Rock, we realized we hadn't seen any grasshoppers all day which was going to be a problem if we were going to catch and eat them, as my friend Mili so desperately wanted to do (Yeah, that's another story...). I suggested we call them to us and said, very dramatically, with arms outstretched: "Grasshoppers! Come to us!" Would it surprise you to hear that not 3 seconds later, a grasshopper hopped across the path? It should not surprise you. We've developed a theme here. Evidence #3.

(The grasshoppers that came, dead in a frying pan of onions. And yes, we ate them.)

On our way out from Chimney Rock, Abby inquired as to whether or not Mili had ever touched an electric fence. She had not. Would she like to? Absolutely. We pulled over for her to experience said touching of said electric fence but alas! The fence was not live. Throughout the day, we watched for one, to no avail. Finally, it dawned on us. We needed to call it to us. Jokingly, Abby called. We crested the hill on the road, and behold (I'm totally not kidding, by the way), an electric fence! And it was live...
Evidence #4.

Kind of unnerving. Later, we tried to call the wind to cease to no avail. Dang. Now, that would have been amazing.

A New Endeavor

So, I was talking with my sister on the phone last night and she introduced me to the phenomenon that is The Six-Word Memoir. In a nutshell, this is how it works. You sum up your life in six words. Or, at least sum up some part of your world in six words.
Some examples from the book, per amazon.com’s “Look Inside!” feature are:

“Painful nerd kid, happy nerd adult.” -Linda Williamson
“Offered my heart, he embraced it.” -Sue Kimber
“Red-eye. Him window. Me Aisle. Love.” –Joanne Flynn Black

Since then, this idea has been lolling around my brain and I’ve come up with a few.
Six words on…

…the Pioneer Trek: “Celebrating Pioneers” produces blister from hell.
…Junior High band: Squawks ill-defined as music to ears.
…living in Nebraska: And the damn wind always blows.
…my favorite part of the day: My eyes close as I de-stress.
…truth I learned in 8th-grade: Turns out, I don’t have to.
…Reassurance from my mother: I am always proud of you.

What about you? What would your six-word memoir be?

A Foray into the West

So, I watched my first John Wayne movie this morning. Some neighbors in my ward were having a “Breakfast with the Duke” event that included a delicious breakfast with pancakes, fruit, an entire 9 x 13 pan of pork products (I had a sausage…it was delicious.), and a viewing of McLintock! (I have no idea why the significance of the exclamation point, but it seemed important so I didn’t want to leave it out.)

But, I digress.

Until today, I’d never seen a John Wayne western, or any western for that matter. The sum total of my knowledge regarding anything John Wayne or “western” included:
-Jackie Chan as Chong Wang in Shanghai Noon—and let’s be honest, the most notable of that movie is Owen Wilson as Roy O’bannon, the inept but certainly hilarious outlaw; think “I don’t know karate, but I know ca-razy.” Genius. Hilarious genius.
-John Wayne was a stutterer. (did you know this? This is critical SLP knowledge…)
-westerns looked b-o-r-i-n-g. Lots of range, lots of riding of horses, blah blah blah.

I actually debated whether or not it was worth trekking through the five inches of snow we got overnight for the shindig but, sad to say, the promise of a free breakfast pushed me over. I live for meals I don’t have to prepare. Really, I do.

But, again, I digress.

Here are some valuable life lessons I took away from McLintock!:
Lesson #1. John Wayne looks good in a holster.

Lesson #2. Although boys want you to believe westerns are man-flicks with guns and fights, they’re really chick-flicks with guns and fights peppered throughout to make said men think they’re watching tough-guy cinematic greatness. But, let’s face it, the story line was purely romance.

The Overall Formula:
Man/woman have grown apart, convinced they want divorce
Man/woman are forced to live in same house while daughter returns from college
Wild shenanigans result from living in house together
Hilarity ensues
In moments of heated anger, passion is rekindled
Eyes meet, they kiss, remember what brought them together in the first place
Live happily ever after

The “how-to-make-it-a-western” Formula:
Man/woman have grown apart, convinced they want divorce
*some men push each other around*
Man/woman are forced to live in same house when daughter returns from college
*a couple of guys punch each other to display manhood*
Wild shenanigans result from living in house together
*more pushing around, blah blah*
Hilarity ensues
*now let’s have a gunfight*
In moments of heated anger, passion is rekindled
*big brawl at the mine*
Eyes meet, they kiss, remember what brought them together in the first place
*many men fighting, shooting guns*
Live happily ever after

Lesson #3. Really, John Wayne wears that holster well. Very well.

Lesson #4. McLintock! is kind of obsessed with spanking grown women when they get too sassy. Moreover, the women seem to respond well to this treatment and don’t see any resemblance to domestic violence. Really? Mm-hmm.

Lesson #5. Have I mentioned that John Wayne knows the proper way to wear a holster?

So, my rating? I'd give McLintock! 3 stars-it was alright.

John Wayne in his holster? Two very enthusiastic thumbs up.

I cannot live without books...

I saw these great questions about literature on a friend's blog and immediately began formulating my own answers. I do not consider myself well-read, but do consider myself a reader. Okay, so some literary questions with not so literary answers.

1. If you could host a party with 7 literary characters who would they be and
why?
1- Hans, the father from The Book Thief, by Marcus Zusak
2- Valancy from The Blue Castle, by L.M. Montgomery—but the Valancy who says what’s on her mind, not the pre-29 Valancy.
3- Jo from Little Women, by Lousia May Alcott
4- Atticus Finch from To Kill a Mockingbird, by Harper Lee
5- Neighbor Dorothy from Standing in the Rainbow by Fannie Flagg
6- Anne, from the Anne of Green Gables series, by L.M. Montgomery
7- Richard Kendrick, from The Twenty-Fourth of June, by Grace S. Richmond
I think that all of these characters are great conversationalists and would be active participants, not passive attendees, at the party. I think the conversation would be lively with many varied viewpoints, lighthearted quirky humor, and intelligent topics discussed. My favorite party is one in which we can meet together and chat, everyone helps shoulder the weight of the interaction, and we all have a good time. This would be an AWESOME party.

2. Which literary house would you like most to live in?
Ooh, ooh, I would love to live at Green Gables from Anne of Green Gables, by L.M. Montgomery. To be in the beautiful land of Prince Edward Island, surrounded by fields, woods, and ocean. Wow. Sounds amazing to me. Or The Burrow from Harry Potter—it just sounds like a busy, cozy, homey place to be.

3. Which literary couple would you like most for parents?
Marmee from Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott
Atticus Finch from To Kill a Mockingbird, by Harper Lee
Both of these parental figures convey such pure love for their children by their actions, words, and solid character. Hey, a lot like MY parents!

4. Pick 3 literary characters you would like to have as siblings.
Daisy Fay from Daisy Fay and the Miracle Man, by Fannie Flagg
Hassan from The Kite Runner, by Khaled Hosseini
Ginny Weasley from Harry Potter, by J.K. Rowling
I think we’d have a good time together.

5. Who is your favorite literary villain?
I would have to say the character of Death in The Book Thief, by Marcus Zusak. I know, not really a villain because Death is so likeable, but *ppbbthh*.

6. Name a character that most people dislike, but that you do not. Why do you like them?
I honestly don’t know. Maybe Katherine Brooke from the Anne series. I think she’s just misunderstood. The lesson I learn from Katherine Brooke is that I need to be careful to not be quick to judge behavior I don’t understand. I think if we would just give each other credit for the amazing things we each have endured in our lives, we’d have a lot more respect and love for each other. *stepping off soapbox now*

7. Name 3 books that you rarely see on people’s favorite book lists that are on your own.
The Twenty-fourth of June, by Grace S. Richmond
The Blue Castle, by L.M. Montgomery
Return from Tomorrow, by George Ritchie
These are all fairly obscure books that I have reread over and over again.

8. What is your favorite literary name?
Oh, goodness, I’m not that picky about names. I like the names of my favorite characters! Jo, Anne, Gilbert, Hermione, etc.

9. What is a book that changed your life?
The Hiding Place, by Corrie Ten Boom. A quintessential example of true heroism. But, what I love about Corrie Ten Boom is that she acknowledges that most of the time she doesn’t want to be the hero and has very unhero-like thoughts. And yet, in the end, she is an amazing example of love and forgiveness. Her story made me want to be better.

11. What is a book that you’ve read more than once?
Oh, I’ve read MANY books more than once. I love re-experiencing my favorites over and over and over. One book that I’ve read multiple times for reasons I can’t explain is the Beverly Cleary autobiography (which is actually two books—one for her early life, one for her college and post-college years): A Girl From Yamhill and My Own Two Feet. Why do I love these books?

12. What is a book that you’d want on a desert island?
I’d want a survival guide that could give me all the information I’d need on edible roots, plants, etc and other tricks for surviving in the wilderness.But, if we’re talking about non-reference-y books, I’d probably go with the Harry Potter series. And yes, I mean the whole series. I think they are essentially one book as a whole—a great mix of adventure, love, triumph of good/evil, fantasy, etc.

13. What is a book that made you laugh?
Daisy Fay and the Miracle Man- Fannie Flagg. There was one scene involving a donkey, Daisy Fay in a bathing suit, and a carload of teenage boys whereupon after reading it I actually laughed out loud and kept giggling for the next several pages.
14. What is a book that made you cry?
A Day No Pigs Would Die, by Robert Newton Peck. I was in sixth-grade and it made me sob. It was the first time a book moved me that much.

15. What are you currently reading?
Outliers, by Malcolm Gladwell
Wild Swans, by Jung Chang
The Time Traveler’s Wife, by Audrey Niffenegger

16. What is a book you’ve been meaning to read?
Oh, this list is long too. Currently on my to-read list are:
The Count of Monte Cristo, by Alexandre Dumas
A Tale of Two Cities, by Charles Dickens
Many other classics…

17. What is a non-fiction book that you have enjoyed?
I enjoy reading memoirs, autobiographies, and books about studying human behavior, so I have read a lot of non-fiction. Some of my favorites are;
Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life, by Amy Krouse Rosenthal
Me Talk Pretty One Day, by David Sedaris
The Glass Castle, by Jeannette Walls
I also really enjoyed Blink, by Malcolm Gladwell and Freakonomics, by Steven Levitt and Stephen Dubner.

18. What is a book that you don’t enjoy?
The Twilight Series. I know it’s sacrilege, but it’s a fact. I didn’t care for Twilight. I have, however, been to Forks, Washington and loved it there.

(On the beach in La Push, WA at sunset)

19. What is a book you remember as a real page-turner?
The Giver, by Lois Lowry

20. Who is your literary role model?
Oh goodness, I don’t know. I admire so many literary figures. Anne, for her courage and intelligence. Dumbledore, for his wisdom. Not high literature, I know, but some of my favorites. And Atticus Finch, for his integrity.

Tastes Like Heaven

I thought I knew what heaven would be like. Fields and fields of daisies, forever sunshine, skipping through said daisies in said sunshine. Sounds nice.

But then I found this.

And this.

And THIS.

And just to be sure that you understand the beauty of this ginormous Lindor truffle--let me unwrap it for you.

And now I know that Heaven is really the place where all of the best candy is ten times it's normal size!

You can find your favorite giGANtic snacks here.

I haven't even shown you the best of all. Coming in at 1 meter long, weighing approximately 13.2 pounds, and an estimated calorie count of 10,000--I present the ginormiest Twix I've ever seen.

Ahhh....heaven.

I want to ride my bicyle, I want to ride my bike...

So, I’m in the market for a new bike. The current bike I have, bless it’s little pea-pickin’ heart, has stood by me faithfully but is looking well, a little tired. We became acquainted with one another in the Sear’s Sports Department about the time I graduated from high school when my sister, brother, and I took advantage of the sweet deal and each bought identical Royce Union Mountain Bikes. I know I rode several bikes up until the Royce Union Beauty, but I only remember a couple of them.

From the time I was six or seven until I was ten or eleven, I rode a lovely, red banana seat bike with foot brakes. It had a red-and-white striped basket that strapped to the handlebars and served well to hold interesting rocks, the detonated fireworks my brother and I would scavenge for on the morning after the 4th of July, and various and sundry other interesting objects you could find on the way home from school or on your way to the pool. We spent a lot of hours together, that bike and I.

(Yes, yes. That is me, sporting a velour v-neck sweater and ridiculously short shorts on my awesome red bike.)

One significant memory I have with this bike involved the most blatant act of disobedience my brother and I ever committed together. He had, one day, inadvertently left his bike lock too loose around the seat of his bike on our way home and the chain on the lock dangled in his spokes and made a terrific clicking noise. I promptly hopped off my bike, adjusted my lock until it was dangling just so, and we clicked and clanged all the way home. Upon our arrival, our mother discovered our new breakthrough and plainly told us that it was dangerous to dangle our locks in the spokes and we were not to do it anymore. The next day, we biked a ¼ mile from home, dismounted our bikes, adjusted the chains and went on our way. After school and on the way home, ¼ mile from home, we would adjust the locks in full belief that so long as mom didn’t know what we were doing, all would be well. This worked splendidly until a few days later when I was beebopping along with a loudly clacking bike lock when it lodged in my spokes, stopped the wheel suddenly, and flipped the bike over and I skidded onto the pavement—knees-first. I quickly examined the bike, saw several bent spokes and burst into tears, not because of the damaged bike, or because of the profusely bleeding gashes on my legs, but because we were about to get in the biggest kind of Cabbage trouble: Disobedience. I cried while we walked our bikes all the way home and we didn’t get to ride for the next 2 weeks. Torture to a seven-year-old! But, lesson learned.

After the retirement of the red banana seat bike a couple of years later, my favorite bike to ride was my Mom’s bike and I will tell you why. She had a couch seat. Seriously, the thing was ginormous and cushy and so comfortable. I’d ride around the neighborhood perched on that heavenly seat impervious to bumps, ruts, and washboard roads. In fact, when I got ye old Royce Union, I took the seat from my mom’s long-since-regularly-used granny bike and attached it to my spiffy new mountain bike and enjoyed years of painless rides.

Which brings me to the real reason for my post today. I’m in the market for a new bike. I have gone to the local bike shop and test-rode a number of bikes and have had a realization. The pursuit of finding the right bike is very much akin to Ollivander’s quest, in Harry Potter, to match the right wand with the right witch or wizard. As Ollivander points out, “it’s really the wand that chooses the wizard.” And so it is with bicycles, I have found. I noticed that I can get on a bike and within the first two rotations of the pedals, know it is not the bike for me. The handlebars are too far away or the seat leans me too far back or my feet don’t feel secure on the pedals or the steering is a little shaky or my knees feel like they’re going to hit my arms or…it’s just not right. And then, THEN, you get on the bike that makes you feel like you’ve come home after all these years to your red banana seat bike with the red-and-white striped basket tied to the handlebars. That’s the bike I’m looking for. And I think I’ve found it. This is what it looks like.

Fantastic, eh?