Merry Christmas!Thursday, December 24, 2009
Monday, December 21, 2009
Friday, December 11, 2009
What the what?!
You know it's finals week when...
... instead of singing in the shower, you recite Spanish verb conjugations.
...you get on Facebook every 20 minutes and all your friends are on there, too.
...you start losing your hair.
...getting the flu shot is most exciting thing that happens all week.
...you don't eat breakfast, lunch or dinner at the regular times.
...you don't know if it's cloudy or sunny outside.
...you can't remember if you wore clean underwear.
...the library is crowded.
...the Institute is more crowded.
...you wear the same clothes all week.
...you suddenly become best friends with all the people in your classes
as you all frantically try to cram for the final.
...you fall asleep even though you're sitting straight up in your chair studying.
...you weep from joy as you leave your last class of the day and the semester.
...thinking gives you a headache.
...you just don't care anymore.
...you wake up in the morning and the first thing you think is, "Aw, heck."
... instead of singing in the shower, you recite Spanish verb conjugations.
...you get on Facebook every 20 minutes and all your friends are on there, too.
...you start losing your hair.
...getting the flu shot is most exciting thing that happens all week.
...you don't eat breakfast, lunch or dinner at the regular times.
...you don't know if it's cloudy or sunny outside.
...you can't remember if you wore clean underwear.
...the library is crowded.
...the Institute is more crowded.
...you wear the same clothes all week.
...you suddenly become best friends with all the people in your classes
as you all frantically try to cram for the final.
...you fall asleep even though you're sitting straight up in your chair studying.
...you weep from joy as you leave your last class of the day and the semester.
...thinking gives you a headache.
...you just don't care anymore.
Friday, November 27, 2009
Carolette
Seventeen years plus twelve days ago, a child was born.
Not just any child. One with a round head and a small nose. The first sound she made was silence, the first action she took was blinking.
Little did she know the world she had just entered, little did she know the havoc she would wreak on it. A split open eyebrow, many cuts and
bruises, and a couple sliced open knees later,
she is still kicking, alive and healthy.
And we couldn't be more thrilled. Seriously.Happy Belated Birthday, young one.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Who's counting?
Days until Thanksgiving Break: 1Days until Thanksgiving: 2
Days until the last day of class: 16
Days until Christmas break: 23
Days until Christmas Day: 32
Days until the day after Christmas: 33
Days until New Year's Eve: 38
Days until 2010: 39
Days until next semester: 49
Days until Spring Break: 119
Days until summer: 165
Days until I graduate: 1, 234,567,890
... ... ...
Days until Thanksgiving break: 1
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Anger Management
Oh mass media, how we love thee. Why is it that we love to indulge ourselves in watching and reading about other’s wrongdoings? Is it the shock factor that reels us in? Possibly. The recent vicious attacks made by New Mexico soccer player, Elizabeth Lambert, against players on BYU’s women’s soccer team received national news coverage and the videos on YouTube had over six million hits. I personally watched it at least three or four times, each time in awe of not only Lambert, but how she only got away with one yellow card the whole game! Ridiculous.
Lambert finally gave an apology, two weeks later, claiming it was all just a misunderstanding. Mmhmm.
"I look at it and I'm like, 'That is not me,'. I have so much regret. I can't
believe I did that. I think the way the video came out, it did make me
look like a monster. That's not the type of player I am. I'm not just
out there trying to hurt players. That's taking away from the beauty of
the game. And I would never want to do that."
Oh really Miss Lambert? Please, go on.
"I definitely feel because I am a female it did bring about a lot more
attention than if a male were to do it. It's more expected for men to go
out there and be rough. The female, we're still looked at as, Oh, we
kick the ball around and score a goal. But it's not. We train very hard
to reach the highest level we can get to. The physical aspect has maybe
increased over the years. I'm not saying it's for the bad or it's been
too overly aggressive. It's a game. Sports are physical."
Yes, blame the negative attention on being a girl. Nice failed attempt to explain/apologize.
If you haven’t seen the video yet, indulge and be shocked by some of the poorest sportsmanship you’ll ever see.
Here's the article I got the quotes from: http://sports.yahoo.com/blogs/post/Vilified-New-Mexico-soccer-player-breaks-her-sil?urn=top,203447
Lambert finally gave an apology, two weeks later, claiming it was all just a misunderstanding. Mmhmm.
"I look at it and I'm like, 'That is not me,'. I have so much regret. I can't
believe I did that. I think the way the video came out, it did make me
look like a monster. That's not the type of player I am. I'm not just
out there trying to hurt players. That's taking away from the beauty of
the game. And I would never want to do that."
Oh really Miss Lambert? Please, go on.
"I definitely feel because I am a female it did bring about a lot more
attention than if a male were to do it. It's more expected for men to go
out there and be rough. The female, we're still looked at as, Oh, we
kick the ball around and score a goal. But it's not. We train very hard
to reach the highest level we can get to. The physical aspect has maybe
increased over the years. I'm not saying it's for the bad or it's been
too overly aggressive. It's a game. Sports are physical."
Yes, blame the negative attention on being a girl. Nice failed attempt to explain/apologize.
If you haven’t seen the video yet, indulge and be shocked by some of the poorest sportsmanship you’ll ever see.
Here's the article I got the quotes from: http://sports.yahoo.com/blogs/post/Vilified-New-Mexico-soccer-player-breaks-her-sil?urn=top,203447
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Livin' Life Carefree
A discovery that I’ve made since coming to college has been that, in general, boys tend to be more stress-free than girls when it comes to school work. It has been a mystery to me for a while now. We have the same assignments and tests, but somehow boys just do them and it’s not that big of a deal. So I decided it’s because boys just don’t let themselves get stressed like us silly girls. We worry, and complain, and worry, and stress out way too much. We just need to take on a more boy-like attitude about this whole school thing. Just do it, get it done, and don’t worry about it anymore. So this has been the approach I’ve taken this semester and the difference between this semester and last is vast. I’m not at the library everyday, I still get my homework done, and the majority of the time I’m fairly stress-free. Really, this carefree mindset is simply wonderful. BUT, (and there is a but) there is also a difference in my grades and performance in school which we won't discuss any further. So the mystery remains. I figure it’s not female nature to be that way. We’re naturally stressed out, worried, and anxious and if I want to do well, I guess that’s how it has to be… next semester.
Uh..huh.
Hi, my name's Holly. I'm one of the contributors to this blog who never contributes.
Except for that one time.
Long story short, I'll be writing about something cool enough to put on here soon. Maybe. Hopefully. If I'm not too busy down here in Provo-land where exciting things are happening pretty much all the time.
Oh wait...
Except for that one time.
Long story short, I'll be writing about something cool enough to put on here soon. Maybe. Hopefully. If I'm not too busy down here in Provo-land where exciting things are happening pretty much all the time.
Oh wait...
Friday, November 6, 2009
Short Story Friday
Don't judge too harshly, I'm new at this...
When his mother died, Karl didn't cry. The wells of moisture behind his eyes had been dry for years. Ever since...well, no. He wouldn't think about that now.
People watched him at the funeral. Their quiet mutterings were not lost on him and he saw in their eyes disdain, disgust and disregard. Their feelings were unfounded, he thought. He had never done anything to justify a complaint.
In the last months of his mother's life, he had driven to her home every day, cooking her meals, giving her medicine and making her comfortable. But the neighbors were uneasy. Born in a time of muted warfare when one person suspected the other, when your neighbor could be a communist, or when you could lose everything just by being accused, the neighbors had never lost that sense of suspicion. It was ingrained in them.
Karl understood. His mother had been the same way. But it didn't stop him from hating the way they looked at him.
His grief at his mother's death was trumped by an overwhelming vision of freedom and he didn't feel guilty for it. It was his turn now. His turn to live his life the way he'd always wanted without answering to anybody because he had no family left. No ties. No bonds.
Maybe that's what the neighbors saw in him, that restlessness hidden underneath his carefully crafted demeanor of apathy. They had lived long enough to see through the insincere smiles and concern of younger generations to the genuine desires of the heart.
When his mother died, Karl didn't cry. The wells of moisture behind his eyes had been dry for years. Ever since...well, no. He wouldn't think about that now.
People watched him at the funeral. Their quiet mutterings were not lost on him and he saw in their eyes disdain, disgust and disregard. Their feelings were unfounded, he thought. He had never done anything to justify a complaint.
In the last months of his mother's life, he had driven to her home every day, cooking her meals, giving her medicine and making her comfortable. But the neighbors were uneasy. Born in a time of muted warfare when one person suspected the other, when your neighbor could be a communist, or when you could lose everything just by being accused, the neighbors had never lost that sense of suspicion. It was ingrained in them.
Karl understood. His mother had been the same way. But it didn't stop him from hating the way they looked at him.
His grief at his mother's death was trumped by an overwhelming vision of freedom and he didn't feel guilty for it. It was his turn now. His turn to live his life the way he'd always wanted without answering to anybody because he had no family left. No ties. No bonds.
Maybe that's what the neighbors saw in him, that restlessness hidden underneath his carefully crafted demeanor of apathy. They had lived long enough to see through the insincere smiles and concern of younger generations to the genuine desires of the heart.
Friday, October 30, 2009
...
Once upon a time, in a dark, dark forest,
there lived a a strange woman, all alone. She never
saw the sun because the wooded forest's density allowed
no light to permeate the trees. Every night she heard
creaks and groans, moaning and screaming.
She knew they were out there. Every day
on her morning walk, she observed the tree
trunks she had passed by the day before. And
every morning a new chill crept down her spine
as she saw that the old symbols were gone,
and fresh symbols had appeared.
Never had she expected them to be so active, so...alive.
Never had she expected to be so scared,
so violently full of horrifying terror that she
couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't breathe.
Never, had she expected to be wrapped in a darkness
so suffocating she could feel its hand clamped over her mouth.
But it was too late. Too late to for an escape.
They knew she was here.
And they knew why.
She should never have convinced
her husband to move out of the city.
She should never have allowed
him to buy that house.
The dense, foreboding mist seeping
into their yard from the forest seemed
to carry with it the echoes of a scream,
the scream of someone who lived long
ago and died an unnatural death.
Time for lunch. Time to make sandwiches.
The children and their father were playing
a game out back...they're safe. She wished
they'd stay away from those trees, though.
She finished cutting the apples and a
strange sensation fell over her.
Why is it so quiet? Why aren't they laughing?
Where are they?
Gone.
And so she was here, in the pit of an
evil monster, home to the graves of countless
innocents, not knowing as she stepped
through the trees, that she was
walking over blood and bones.
How soon would they be her own?
there lived a a strange woman, all alone. She never
saw the sun because the wooded forest's density allowed
no light to permeate the trees. Every night she heard
creaks and groans, moaning and screaming.
She knew they were out there. Every day
on her morning walk, she observed the tree
trunks she had passed by the day before. And
every morning a new chill crept down her spine
as she saw that the old symbols were gone,
and fresh symbols had appeared.
Never had she expected them to be so active, so...alive.
Never had she expected to be so scared,
so violently full of horrifying terror that she
couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't breathe.
Never, had she expected to be wrapped in a darkness
so suffocating she could feel its hand clamped over her mouth.
But it was too late. Too late to for an escape.
They knew she was here.
And they knew why.
She should never have convinced
her husband to move out of the city.
She should never have allowed
him to buy that house.
The dense, foreboding mist seeping
into their yard from the forest seemed
to carry with it the echoes of a scream,
the scream of someone who lived long
ago and died an unnatural death.
Time for lunch. Time to make sandwiches.
The children and their father were playing
a game out back...they're safe. She wished
they'd stay away from those trees, though.
She finished cutting the apples and a
strange sensation fell over her.
Why is it so quiet? Why aren't they laughing?
Where are they?
Gone.
And so she was here, in the pit of an
evil monster, home to the graves of countless
innocents, not knowing as she stepped
through the trees, that she was
walking over blood and bones.
How soon would they be her own?
Friday, October 23, 2009
Sitting colorblind
Wouldn't you love to go find a park bench, curl up on it and just read?
*Click on the photos to follow the link.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Kris vs. Adam
Kris Allen's new single, "Live Like We're Dying", is now available on iTunes! It's a beautiful thing and so is he. On October 27, Adam Lambert's single, "Time for Miracles", will be available and is going to be featured on the new movie 2012. It's a nice little ballad and not what I was expecting. To be honest, I was a bit bored with it. I like both these guys, but I personally think Kris beat Adam on this one. Release dates for debut albums:
Kris Allen - Nov. 17
Adam Lambert - Nov. 24
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Can you feel the love tonight?
Disclaimer: If you're male and you get offended easily and you're not going to want to be friends with us after you read this, then don't read it. Simple. Otherwise, please enjoy.
Naming no names, pointing no fingers - putting aside all prejudices and preconceptions about the male species - we've noticed a few things that don't quite add up about how boys act and speak and look and think. Some boys, at least.
So, girls, your hair is either too long or too short, too frizzy or too flat, too fancy or too simple. But make sure it's what guys like. Your body is either too skinny or too fat, too tall or too short, too busty or too flat, but again, make sure it's what guys like. Your face, well with that, there are only two options: cute or not so cute. But girls welcome ratings. So boys, please rate us. If you think that boys don't notice your fashion and style, they do, and more than you think. Take skinny jeans for example. Did you not know that they make your body look unproportional? Did you not know that they accentuate your butt? Did you not know that boys notice all of that? Especially the butt. Actually, we all know that guys notice butts. Also, did you not know that slightly sheer tops, even if you have something modest underneath, are not fashionable either? Nor are boots, unless you're wearing them with skirts. But by all means, do NOT tuck your pants into your boots. Don't wear shawls either. You might even be pushing it with a scarf.
What else...hmmm...if you're not as cute as the girl next to you, be sure to flirt with the hot guys you're around and make them feel awkward, although they will definitely feel flattered and you'll make their head swell to the size of a watermelon and they'll brag to their friends about how you flirted with them even though you're the 'not-so-cute one'.
Now for things you can actually control: facial hair - only eyebrows are allowed, hair color - make sure you find out what color hair the guy you're interested in likes and then dye your hair that color. It's all about conforming, people. Make sure the ratio between your hips and waist is what will attract guys. Make sure your eyes aren't too far apart. Make sure your teeth are proportional to your nose. Make sure your ears are the right distance from your forehead. If none of that's working for you, don't worry, there are doctors who are willing to fix it for a small fee.
To whatever females read this blog, some of you have been lucky enough to find a male type who is mature enough not to let all of this get in the way of how he sees the world. To all others, we believe there is still hope to find guys like that. In the meantime, maybe the critical boys who fit our description should take a good hard look at themselves in the mirror and realize that they are not all that they think they are and maybe, just maybe, they should not be so stinking picky and judgmental about girls. Wonder why you don't have a girlfriend or you're not married? We used to wonder that, too. But we're beginning to understand. You're waiting for the right girl. But, what makes you think that when that girl with the perfect proportions, perfect face, hair, smile, eyes, body - perfect everything comes along, what makes you think she'll want you? Hmmm...something to think about...
Guys, you know we think you're great. Just be nicer, okay? To those of you who try to be gentlemen, thanks. We appreciate it. You may think that girls are mean to each other, but we're genetically inclined to be protective of our gender when it's getting bashed.
Love, Rose and Holly
p.s. In other news, did you know that if you stick your ipod headphones into your nostrils and open your mouth, you can hear the music playing out of your mouth?
Naming no names, pointing no fingers - putting aside all prejudices and preconceptions about the male species - we've noticed a few things that don't quite add up about how boys act and speak and look and think. Some boys, at least.
So, girls, your hair is either too long or too short, too frizzy or too flat, too fancy or too simple. But make sure it's what guys like. Your body is either too skinny or too fat, too tall or too short, too busty or too flat, but again, make sure it's what guys like. Your face, well with that, there are only two options: cute or not so cute. But girls welcome ratings. So boys, please rate us. If you think that boys don't notice your fashion and style, they do, and more than you think. Take skinny jeans for example. Did you not know that they make your body look unproportional? Did you not know that they accentuate your butt? Did you not know that boys notice all of that? Especially the butt. Actually, we all know that guys notice butts. Also, did you not know that slightly sheer tops, even if you have something modest underneath, are not fashionable either? Nor are boots, unless you're wearing them with skirts. But by all means, do NOT tuck your pants into your boots. Don't wear shawls either. You might even be pushing it with a scarf.
What else...hmmm...if you're not as cute as the girl next to you, be sure to flirt with the hot guys you're around and make them feel awkward, although they will definitely feel flattered and you'll make their head swell to the size of a watermelon and they'll brag to their friends about how you flirted with them even though you're the 'not-so-cute one'.
Now for things you can actually control: facial hair - only eyebrows are allowed, hair color - make sure you find out what color hair the guy you're interested in likes and then dye your hair that color. It's all about conforming, people. Make sure the ratio between your hips and waist is what will attract guys. Make sure your eyes aren't too far apart. Make sure your teeth are proportional to your nose. Make sure your ears are the right distance from your forehead. If none of that's working for you, don't worry, there are doctors who are willing to fix it for a small fee.
To whatever females read this blog, some of you have been lucky enough to find a male type who is mature enough not to let all of this get in the way of how he sees the world. To all others, we believe there is still hope to find guys like that. In the meantime, maybe the critical boys who fit our description should take a good hard look at themselves in the mirror and realize that they are not all that they think they are and maybe, just maybe, they should not be so stinking picky and judgmental about girls. Wonder why you don't have a girlfriend or you're not married? We used to wonder that, too. But we're beginning to understand. You're waiting for the right girl. But, what makes you think that when that girl with the perfect proportions, perfect face, hair, smile, eyes, body - perfect everything comes along, what makes you think she'll want you? Hmmm...something to think about...
Guys, you know we think you're great. Just be nicer, okay? To those of you who try to be gentlemen, thanks. We appreciate it. You may think that girls are mean to each other, but we're genetically inclined to be protective of our gender when it's getting bashed.
Love, Rose and Holly
p.s. In other news, did you know that if you stick your ipod headphones into your nostrils and open your mouth, you can hear the music playing out of your mouth?
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
![[2w9XXXqFFqy9zc1hYxagLMG6o1_400.jpg]](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrhaJBk2uW7BF5ELTdfiLPUuWgvS9IJ69yYhqWtebvB5JmApjhWF9asZiJp_T9Bl6MXGlGD1_T2vCJSLDzbV0cBw0Yc3mHAYtAkllM4OBzTyLn7yNNvuv1vDW3woMvL0uUmqJILK4RX7I/s1600/2w9XXXqFFqy9zc1hYxagLMG6o1_400.jpg)
Friday, October 2, 2009
It's today
Today, I woke up from a really pleasant dream right before the best part was about to happen. I went back to sleep to try to continue the dream and overslept for a half hour.
Today, is Friday.
Today, I really want to go see Tim Burton's movie 9. Looks so artsy. What a cool man.
Today, a 70+ old violin-maker man with a German accent told me I looked nice. Thing is, I woke up and was out of my house within 10 minutes this morning. His glasses must've been dirty.
Today, it feels really good outside. Fall is wonderful.
Today, I think I've had more conversations through Facebook chat than in person. Sad or...?
Today, I've been studying for an Anthropology test. I've never studied for so long a time and been so unproductive.
Today, I'm looking forward to General Conference tomorrow and Sunday.
Today, I learned that water has been found on the moon. My hope of a future family boating vacation into outer space has been revived.
Today, I get to start reading David Copperfield. It's only 729 pages. Easy.
Today is probably the 985,230,871, 243th day in a row that my friend and I have gotten on Facebook at the same time.
Today, I heard a man sing a cover of Britney Spears' song "Oops, I Did It Again". I will say no more.
Today, I got a text from my brother Stephen that said, "Boo!" Someone's bored...
Today, life is normal. Except for when I saw Andrew skiing down our hill on wood.
Today, is Friday.
Today, I really want to go see Tim Burton's movie 9. Looks so artsy. What a cool man.
Today, a 70+ old violin-maker man with a German accent told me I looked nice. Thing is, I woke up and was out of my house within 10 minutes this morning. His glasses must've been dirty.
Today, it feels really good outside. Fall is wonderful.
Today, I think I've had more conversations through Facebook chat than in person. Sad or...?
Today, I've been studying for an Anthropology test. I've never studied for so long a time and been so unproductive.
Today, I'm looking forward to General Conference tomorrow and Sunday.
Today, I learned that water has been found on the moon. My hope of a future family boating vacation into outer space has been revived.
Today, I get to start reading David Copperfield. It's only 729 pages. Easy.
Today is probably the 985,230,871, 243th day in a row that my friend and I have gotten on Facebook at the same time.
Today, I heard a man sing a cover of Britney Spears' song "Oops, I Did It Again". I will say no more.
Today, I got a text from my brother Stephen that said, "Boo!" Someone's bored...
Today, life is normal. Except for when I saw Andrew skiing down our hill on wood.
Peace,
Rose
Rose
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Um...
Don't worry, they don't love Seattle that much. It's not really beautiful during the fall, as you can see by the picture. They really miss Utah, which might be surprising, but Jeff has come back to visit two weekends in a row. Definite proof.
Actually...I think they have fallen in love with Seattle and once Jeff is finished with his Salt Lake job, we're going to be hard pressed for reasons to get them to visit. Guess we'll just have to go visit them. Shoot.
picture from http://guides.travel.msn.com
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Aye, avast!
I was diligently writing an essay for my lovely Studies in Victorian Literature class, when I remembered the date. September 19. What's so special about September 19, you ask? Only that it's:
International Talk Like a Pirate Day
You think I'm joking? I never joke, people.
These two guys in New York started it with the help of Dave Barry, a syndicated columnist for the Miami Herald. In Miami. I'd give you all the background and history, but they tell it better themselves. Plus you can learn some pirate lingo. Check it out.
http://www.talklikeapirate.com/piratehome.html
It's a great way for all of us lubbers to expand our horizons. And for any of you that don't have plans tonight, how about we get together and haul some keel.
Arrr,
Rose
You think I'm joking? I never joke, people.
These two guys in New York started it with the help of Dave Barry, a syndicated columnist for the Miami Herald. In Miami. I'd give you all the background and history, but they tell it better themselves. Plus you can learn some pirate lingo. Check it out.
http://www.talklikeapirate.com/piratehome.html
It's a great way for all of us lubbers to expand our horizons. And for any of you that don't have plans tonight, how about we get together and haul some keel.
Arrr,
Rose
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
An unusual day of classes
10:00 a.m. - I watched several people make fools of themselves while singing their state songs. I listened to painful renditions of Yankee Doodle, Home, Home on the Range, Rocky Top (in a western accent) and even a "nose harmonica" version of Utah, This is the Place while not knowing whether to laugh or be embarrassed.
12:00 p.m. - Two freshmen boys sat on either side of me and continued to have conversation with each other across my seat. One of them pulled a Harry Potter by wearing glasses that were taped together. After a power point slide of the Salt Lake Temple was shown, Harry Potter broke out into spontaneous singing of I Love To See the Temple as about 300 people turned their heads and stared. My professor said something about taking temples for granted and Mr. Potter turned to me and asked, "Did he just use a play on words by saying 'granite' instead of 'granted' because the temple is made of granite?"
1:00 p.m. My religion professor kept doing this weird laugh/chuckle thing while he was teaching and it was never after anything funny he said. I believe he was discussing Acts 1-6, which, as I recall, is not a very humorous section of scripture.
So if ever you start losing hope for the people of America, just watch this video and you are guaranteed to have a renewed sense of pride. I know I did.
12:00 p.m. - Two freshmen boys sat on either side of me and continued to have conversation with each other across my seat. One of them pulled a Harry Potter by wearing glasses that were taped together. After a power point slide of the Salt Lake Temple was shown, Harry Potter broke out into spontaneous singing of I Love To See the Temple as about 300 people turned their heads and stared. My professor said something about taking temples for granted and Mr. Potter turned to me and asked, "Did he just use a play on words by saying 'granite' instead of 'granted' because the temple is made of granite?"
1:00 p.m. My religion professor kept doing this weird laugh/chuckle thing while he was teaching and it was never after anything funny he said. I believe he was discussing Acts 1-6, which, as I recall, is not a very humorous section of scripture.
So if ever you start losing hope for the people of America, just watch this video and you are guaranteed to have a renewed sense of pride. I know I did.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Damned if you do, damned if you don't
It's the madre's birthday today. And there are already signs that she's forgotten. She made her own birthday breakfast for the rest of us. She's at Spencer's soccer game right now. And she doesn't want to go out to dinner because it might interfere with her children's social lives. As if we have them.
But it is her birthday and we must honour her. Yes, honour with a 'u'. United Kingdom style. Let me tell you some things that make Lisa one of the most amazing women I know.
But it is her birthday and we must honour her. Yes, honour with a 'u'. United Kingdom style. Let me tell you some things that make Lisa one of the most amazing women I know.
All of her children play a musical instrument, be it piano, violin or cello, or both, we all can sit down and play music. Because of her. Because she took us to lessons every week, practiced with us everyday and never gave/gives up when we give her an attitude only ever provoked by Suzuki. Can you imagine twenty some odd years of doing that? And never giving up? I can't. I can't even begin to imagine the patience and love it has taken for her to deal with us through all of that. I want to do it with my kids, but maybe I'll just hire her...
My mom is herself a brilliant musician. Of course, she denies that. But she got a degree in piano pedigoge from the University of Utah and taught piano for a few years before giving that up because of her children. She taught us at the beginning stages of our piano careers. My dad has always said that when he went to her senior piano recital at the U, as he watched her play, that's when he knew he had to marry her. Sweet, eh? She's accompanied Caroline and I all throughout our violin years, now accompanies Andrew and Spencer. She's the primary pianist, a much harder job than it sounds, trust me. The woman loves music, what else is there to say.
Yams, peppers and spinach. My mother has a rare stomach condition that doesn't allow her to eat all the delicious foods she cooks for us. We sit down to a breakfast of pancakes, french toast, eggs and bacon...she sits down with a plate of peppers. Every day there are yams in the oven, cooking. Right now, even. And she likes them burnt to a crisp. We tease her about it all, but wow, how could you not admire someone for that kind of fortitude? Plus, she never complains about it.
I haven't mentioned sports yet, have I? My mom can play tennis, I mean really play tennis. When she was young she used to go out on their tennis court with her dad early in the mornings and play. She's been pretty patient with us over the years as we've gone from tennis practice to soccer practice to swim lessons and back to tennis. Sort of like the music lessons thing. She's also a wicked water skier.
One time when I was in middle school we were eating dinner and scarfing down her delicious delicious homemade bread with honey. I don't remember what was said, but somehow my mom and I ended up wrestling around having a honey fight. It was a sticky dinner.
A few summers ago, we went to Jackson Hole and on our way home we stopped at a Dairy Queen drive-thru. We had a long drive ahead of us so my mom wanted to make sure we were all adequately relieved of our fluids. As we pulled up to the microphone thing my mom gets out and walks over to the driver's side and right after the worker asked what he could get for us, my mom says, "Do you need to go to the bathroom?" The worker was so confused,"Excuse me...?"
My mom's favorite joke: What did the zero say to the eight? Nice belt. That joke has many a time gotten her laughing so hard she can't breathe. And when that happens, you stand no chance of keeping a straight face yourself.
Anyway, my mom is a great person. She cares a lot about everyone around her and accomplishes so much that none of us even know about. Thanks for being awesome, Mom.
Happy Birthday!
I stole the picture from Kristin. She just caught the most candid moment of the summer with her
awesome camera. It's not possible to keep a straight face when you look at it.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Why?
Why would you ever paint your toenails dull, fungus yellow? Isn't the point of painting your nails to cover the ugliness of the all na tur al? So why make them look like they're dead? It's not attractive, it's revolting. Don't do it, please, just don't.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Oh the maturity
Today, my father's mood has changed drastically, going from his happy-morning-person mood to his tired-Saturday-afternoon mood to his no-one-can-predict-what-I'll-do-next mood.
Just now, the man was in the kitchen. He got a serious look on his face as he watched Caroline pick up her books.
He said, in a very serious tone, "Caroline."
"What?"
"Wanna fight?"
What ensued was a scene to disgrace the one on one duels between all ninjas, elves, men and wizards in the world as these two knuckleheads karate chopped each other with the force of a couple of 2-year-old children.
Needless to say, Caroline was the champion, my dad cowering under her rigid brutality, pleading for mercy. Caroline relented. They both went calmly back to their activities as if nothing unusual had happened.
And that just about wraps up my Saturday afternoon.
Just now, the man was in the kitchen. He got a serious look on his face as he watched Caroline pick up her books.
He said, in a very serious tone, "Caroline."
"What?"
"Wanna fight?"
What ensued was a scene to disgrace the one on one duels between all ninjas, elves, men and wizards in the world as these two knuckleheads karate chopped each other with the force of a couple of 2-year-old children.
Needless to say, Caroline was the champion, my dad cowering under her rigid brutality, pleading for mercy. Caroline relented. They both went calmly back to their activities as if nothing unusual had happened.
And that just about wraps up my Saturday afternoon.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Today...
Today, I ate an apple and a bagel for breakfast, trying to be healthy. I then ate 2 handfuls of peanut m&m's at work to keep myself from falling asleep at my desk.
Today, I decided I was in need of a haircut so I went to Salon Salon. High-end. My hair stylist's name was Rosemary. Just like mine.
Today, my family flew to California for our cousin's wedding. Stephen and I are at home. School. Work. Adulthood. Thbbb.
Today, Holly is supposed to give her two weeks notice. I texted her two hours ago to see if she had done it yet. She said no. I bet you a cup of Spoon Me ice cream she chickens out. Again.
Today, my friend Chelsea who is doing an internship in Washington D.C. sent me a picture of Georgetown University. Probably sent it to Holly, too. We miss her. And we're jealous.
Today, I just got a text from Holly: "I did it!" I guess I owe someone Spoon Me.
Today, I interviewed the associate dean of one of the colleges at the U for a story for the newspaper. I'm proud of myself for asking intelligent questions.
Today, I am tired and it's only the first week of school.
Today, I was listening to people on NPR talk about how multi-tasking doesn't help people be more productive and actually inhibits their productiveness and how much they learn. Then I remembered how one of the cliche differences between men and women is that women can multi-task and men can't.
Today, I was really hot walking around campus. I'm glad it's cloudy now.
Today, I woke up after pushing snooze only 4 times. First thought of the day: "Do I have time to take a nap today?"
Today, I wondered if it would be selfish of me to ask Holly to not move down to Provo tomorrow, but just commute to BYU everyday. I'll chip in a couple bucks for gas...
Today, I thought about going for a run. Nice thought.
Today, the man at the station in the parking garage gave me a tootsie roll. I like Fridays.
Today, I have no more thoughts.
Today, I decided I was in need of a haircut so I went to Salon Salon. High-end. My hair stylist's name was Rosemary. Just like mine.
Today, my family flew to California for our cousin's wedding. Stephen and I are at home. School. Work. Adulthood. Thbbb.
Today, Holly is supposed to give her two weeks notice. I texted her two hours ago to see if she had done it yet. She said no. I bet you a cup of Spoon Me ice cream she chickens out. Again.
Today, my friend Chelsea who is doing an internship in Washington D.C. sent me a picture of Georgetown University. Probably sent it to Holly, too. We miss her. And we're jealous.
Today, I just got a text from Holly: "I did it!" I guess I owe someone Spoon Me.
Today, I interviewed the associate dean of one of the colleges at the U for a story for the newspaper. I'm proud of myself for asking intelligent questions.
Today, I am tired and it's only the first week of school.
Today, I was listening to people on NPR talk about how multi-tasking doesn't help people be more productive and actually inhibits their productiveness and how much they learn. Then I remembered how one of the cliche differences between men and women is that women can multi-task and men can't.
Today, I was really hot walking around campus. I'm glad it's cloudy now.
Today, I woke up after pushing snooze only 4 times. First thought of the day: "Do I have time to take a nap today?"
Today, I wondered if it would be selfish of me to ask Holly to not move down to Provo tomorrow, but just commute to BYU everyday. I'll chip in a couple bucks for gas...
Today, I thought about going for a run. Nice thought.
Today, the man at the station in the parking garage gave me a tootsie roll. I like Fridays.
Today, I have no more thoughts.
Chau.
This post was inspired by mylifeisaverage.com. Call me a nerd, but come talk to me after you haven't spent an hour and a half reading what people post on the website.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Purple blood?
Yes, I think my blood turned a bit purpley blue this summer. I spent it hanging out with some awesome U of U kidoodles and the move down to P-town at the end of this week is going to be very bitter sweet. I don't think I'm ready for a 45 minute separation. So I think the most logical solution to this problem would be to move the BYU campus up to Salt Lake. I'll let Cecil know. Salt Lake is just much cooler than Provo and it'd be nice to have all my friends in one spot. For the last two years, I've felt like I've been living a double life. Week days with Provo friends and weekends in Salt Lake. It's not cheap, lots of gas is involved. So unless someone can actually invent a way to say "Energize!" and be transported to another place at warp speed, we are going to have to find a way to fix this.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Talk about an upset
My name is Rosemary. My name has been Rosemary for the past 20 years of my life. Surprising, I know.
Last night, Holly and I and our awesome friends went to the Taste of Sandy at the SouthTown Expo Center to taste food from the best restaurants around the valley. Um...I would do that every night if I could. I really would. Texas Roadhouse rolls, sushi (which I did not eat), Chocolate Cottage chocolate covered grapes, Market Street Grill shrimp salad goodness, Mike's Pizza pizza, Sweet Tomatoes real strawberry lemonade (it really was real). Best dinner I've ever had for $5. Just pure luck that I happened upon it while surfing the World Wide Web.
While jaunting around testing the deliciousness, we naturally began discussing food. The Chipotle barbacoa meat was quite spicy and as I jumped up and down trying to calm the explosion in my mouth, someone asked, "Rose, you're not a spice girl?" There was laughter from everyone because of the obvious pun, but since I never really listened to the Spice Girls I was laughing because of a less obvious pun: the rosemary plant is a spice. My name is Rosemary (point of clarification).
As I'm laughing and explaining that rosemary is indeed a spice and how funny is that that he just asked me if I'm a spice girl, my other friend Eric says, "Rosemary is an herb, not a spice."
Okay, what now?
Eric: "Rosemary is an herb."
Me: "Um...no no, rosemary is a spice."
Eric: "No, I promise it's an herb because blah blah blah..."
We continue to argue, my reasonable point being that Rosemary has been my name for 20 years and wouldn't I know by now if my name were really not a spice when I've been telling people for 20 years that I'm a spice, and his point being that rosemary is an herb because it comes from the green parts of a plant like the leaves and stem, whereas a spice comes from the roots, bark and seeds of a plant. Completely illogical, I know. The nerve of some people.
Needless to say, we didn't settle the argument and agreed to disagree, although nearly everyone else sided with me on the issue. So just now I remembered the altercation and decided to use the wonderful World Wide Web to my advantage again. You'll never guess what I found. Type rosemary into the Google search engine. First thing that comes up - Wikipedia: Rosemary is a woody, perennial herb with fragrant evergreen needle-like leaves.
An HERB.
I feel like my whole life has been a lie. I feel cheated. And to all of you who have known me my whole life, why have you never told me the truth about my name? Why? Herbs are not as cool as spices. For one thing, they just sound wussier. For another thing...I've got nothing. But I'm upset, people. UPSET.
I for one don't think the rosemary plant smells all that great. But that was okay when it was a spice. It did it's own thing. You don't question a spice. An herb though...herbs are like those kids in school that you respect a lot, but don't hang out with cause they're too nerdy and they smell funny (Holly). But I can embrace it. As I've read up on the rosemary herb, I have discovered new vistas of wisdom. Shall I enlighten you? Okay.
Characteristics of the rosemary herb:
Anyway, my life has changed drastically in the last few minutes and I have doubts that it will ever be the same again. Discovering you're not who you thought you were is oddly unsettling. I now know what Harry felt when he found out he was magical. Except he got to go on and be a wizard. I get to go on and be an herb.
At least it's photogenic.
Last night, Holly and I and our awesome friends went to the Taste of Sandy at the SouthTown Expo Center to taste food from the best restaurants around the valley. Um...I would do that every night if I could. I really would. Texas Roadhouse rolls, sushi (which I did not eat), Chocolate Cottage chocolate covered grapes, Market Street Grill shrimp salad goodness, Mike's Pizza pizza, Sweet Tomatoes real strawberry lemonade (it really was real). Best dinner I've ever had for $5. Just pure luck that I happened upon it while surfing the World Wide Web.
While jaunting around testing the deliciousness, we naturally began discussing food. The Chipotle barbacoa meat was quite spicy and as I jumped up and down trying to calm the explosion in my mouth, someone asked, "Rose, you're not a spice girl?" There was laughter from everyone because of the obvious pun, but since I never really listened to the Spice Girls I was laughing because of a less obvious pun: the rosemary plant is a spice. My name is Rosemary (point of clarification).
As I'm laughing and explaining that rosemary is indeed a spice and how funny is that that he just asked me if I'm a spice girl, my other friend Eric says, "Rosemary is an herb, not a spice."
Okay, what now?
Eric: "Rosemary is an herb."
Me: "Um...no no, rosemary is a spice."
Eric: "No, I promise it's an herb because blah blah blah..."
We continue to argue, my reasonable point being that Rosemary has been my name for 20 years and wouldn't I know by now if my name were really not a spice when I've been telling people for 20 years that I'm a spice, and his point being that rosemary is an herb because it comes from the green parts of a plant like the leaves and stem, whereas a spice comes from the roots, bark and seeds of a plant. Completely illogical, I know. The nerve of some people.
Needless to say, we didn't settle the argument and agreed to disagree, although nearly everyone else sided with me on the issue. So just now I remembered the altercation and decided to use the wonderful World Wide Web to my advantage again. You'll never guess what I found. Type rosemary into the Google search engine. First thing that comes up - Wikipedia: Rosemary is a woody, perennial herb with fragrant evergreen needle-like leaves.
An HERB.
I feel like my whole life has been a lie. I feel cheated. And to all of you who have known me my whole life, why have you never told me the truth about my name? Why? Herbs are not as cool as spices. For one thing, they just sound wussier. For another thing...I've got nothing. But I'm upset, people. UPSET.
I for one don't think the rosemary plant smells all that great. But that was okay when it was a spice. It did it's own thing. You don't question a spice. An herb though...herbs are like those kids in school that you respect a lot, but don't hang out with cause they're too nerdy and they smell funny (Holly). But I can embrace it. As I've read up on the rosemary herb, I have discovered new vistas of wisdom. Shall I enlighten you? Okay.
Characteristics of the rosemary herb:
- native to Portugal and Spain, Mediterranean region
- known as the herb of remembrance
- symbolizes loyalty and friendship
- associated with weddings and funerals
- ancient medicine for rheumatism and gout
- pest control
- "Holy Herb" as dubbed by Christians
- historically used to treat flatulence, colds, headaches and gastrointestinal upsets
- been known to cause comas, spasms, vomiting, and pulmonary edema if too much is ingested
- believed to repel nightmares if placed under a pillow at night
- also repels witches
Anyway, my life has changed drastically in the last few minutes and I have doubts that it will ever be the same again. Discovering you're not who you thought you were is oddly unsettling. I now know what Harry felt when he found out he was magical. Except he got to go on and be a wizard. I get to go on and be an herb.
At least it's photogenic.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
...
Is it possible to live at Lake Powell whilst going to school in Salt Lake?
Let me know if you ever find out how and Holly will be glad to make you giant pumpkin chocolate chip cookies.
Sincerely, Rose
Let me know if you ever find out how and Holly will be glad to make you giant pumpkin chocolate chip cookies.
Sincerely, Rose
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Never, never again
This summer has just been amazing. The best summer of my life, probably. Why, you ask? Well, let me just TELL you why right now. There is one reason and one reason only: summer school. That's right, I took summer school. Be impressed. Three beautifully educational classes that have increased my intellectual knowledge so much so that I feel like an entirely new person than I was even three months ago. I mean, who doesn't love reading the philosophical theories of Plato (Play-doh), Aristotle (Air-is-tottle), Saussure (Seh-sss-u-r-e), Freud (Fr-oi-d), Derrida (Dare-i-dah), Lacan (Luh-cawn), Marx (Mar-ks), Althusser (All-thoos-sss-air), Foucault (Foo-koh), Fanon (Fuh-non), Benjamin (Ben-ya-meen) and Jameson (Jame-es-son)? Not me, that's for sure. I love reading the essays of men who think they know everything there is to know about everything. And I love writing essays about the flawlessness of those theories, theories that I, of course, understood perfectly the first time I skimmed through them. Of course.
I finished these classes this past week and I am so sad. Depressed, even. I have to hang out with friends and do fun stuff instead of studying and doing the homework I always finished on time. I stay out late instead of going to bed early like I did every night when I had class. And I no longer get to look forward to sitting in class every Tuesday and Thursday acing quizzes and listening to the very interesting lectures of my professor that would enlighten my mind so much that I could barely keep from singing.
However, I find comfort in knowing that this leisurely time of my life must only torment me for two more weeks, because fall semester starts in just two weeks and I couldn't be more excited to start school all over again. In two weeks.
I can barely contain myself.
I finished these classes this past week and I am so sad. Depressed, even. I have to hang out with friends and do fun stuff instead of studying and doing the homework I always finished on time. I stay out late instead of going to bed early like I did every night when I had class. And I no longer get to look forward to sitting in class every Tuesday and Thursday acing quizzes and listening to the very interesting lectures of my professor that would enlighten my mind so much that I could barely keep from singing.
However, I find comfort in knowing that this leisurely time of my life must only torment me for two more weeks, because fall semester starts in just two weeks and I couldn't be more excited to start school all over again. In two weeks.
I can barely contain myself.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Happy Birthday Rosemary Grace!
Twenty years old, wow. I will now reciprocate Rose's kind remarks she made for my birthday by writing some of my favorite memories of Rosemary.
- At age 8, she vowed she would never eat chocolate ever again. Ha.
- Once, while in Lake Powell, we were catching lizards and the one Rose was holding decided to jump on her, crawl under her life jacket, and scare the living daylights out of her. I've never seen anyone strip off their life jacket that fast or seen her that scared in my entire life.
- We were always extremely productive when we had homework/study sessions together. There were never times that we laughed so hard we couldn't breathe. ;)
- We never fight. We really don't. But one time we did. While on a double date. We both thought we were right and the other was wrong about the driving directions. We stopped at a gas station, Rose and I went in the bathroom and laughed our heads off about how stupid we were being. Our dates, on the other hand, who were still in the car, were probably contemplating if it was their chance to make a run for it.
- Skiing with Rose. Heard a scream. Turned around. Saw her sprawled like a flying squirrel in the snow, head faced downhill. She started shaking. Pretty sure she was laughing at herself. May have been the best fall I've seen Rose have.
- Tubed down a run at Snowbird at 11 pm, went way too fast for our own good, thought we were going to lose our lives, screamed bloody murder the whole way down, had a good laugh afterwards.
Rosemary has been the best friend anyone could ask for. Extremely loyal, loves you no matter what, patient, good listener, fun, sarcastic, talented, intelligent, athletic, best ski buddy, strong in the gospel, she has made me a better person. So thank you Rose, I'm looking forward to the future, it's going to be a blast!
Love,
Holly
- At age 8, she vowed she would never eat chocolate ever again. Ha.
- Once, while in Lake Powell, we were catching lizards and the one Rose was holding decided to jump on her, crawl under her life jacket, and scare the living daylights out of her. I've never seen anyone strip off their life jacket that fast or seen her that scared in my entire life.
- We were always extremely productive when we had homework/study sessions together. There were never times that we laughed so hard we couldn't breathe. ;)
- We never fight. We really don't. But one time we did. While on a double date. We both thought we were right and the other was wrong about the driving directions. We stopped at a gas station, Rose and I went in the bathroom and laughed our heads off about how stupid we were being. Our dates, on the other hand, who were still in the car, were probably contemplating if it was their chance to make a run for it.
- Skiing with Rose. Heard a scream. Turned around. Saw her sprawled like a flying squirrel in the snow, head faced downhill. She started shaking. Pretty sure she was laughing at herself. May have been the best fall I've seen Rose have.
- Tubed down a run at Snowbird at 11 pm, went way too fast for our own good, thought we were going to lose our lives, screamed bloody murder the whole way down, had a good laugh afterwards.
Rosemary has been the best friend anyone could ask for. Extremely loyal, loves you no matter what, patient, good listener, fun, sarcastic, talented, intelligent, athletic, best ski buddy, strong in the gospel, she has made me a better person. So thank you Rose, I'm looking forward to the future, it's going to be a blast!
Love,
Holly
Monday, July 27, 2009
It's Just Difficult
Hello people. I know what you're thinking: "How come Holly never blogs about anything? It's always Rose writing about meaningless mumbo jumbo." Well, I am pledging to start posting on the blog more often because if I don't, Rose will leave me. It's just that nothing exciting happens in my life! I work at Eyemaster's all the day long and the most boring people come in so I never have funny stories to tell about customers. And then at night, instead of staying at home and playing on my new Macbook and being lame, people make me go on hikes, or go bowling, or roast marshmallows, or go star gazing, or boat at Bear Lake, or play murder in the dark for three hours at a time, for crying out loud.
See? My life is sooo boring. I mean, never would I think to blog about a good movie I've seen or a good book, my sibling's birthdays or random stuff like that. Blog posts have to be exciting and funny, all the time. ALL THE TIME. And I hate to smile and laugh, not to mention making others smile and laugh. I challenge you all to a stare down. But I'm trying to change. Bear with me, be patient. It'll take some time. Lots of time. Or here's a thought: maybe I just have better things to do than post my life on a blog. Probably not though. Probably not.
(this was posted by Rosemary to try to motivate H. Nelson to not be so lazy about blogging. everything said in the post was said out of the utmost care and love I have for Holly, although said with rampant sarcasm. i am not a mean or vindictive person)
See? My life is sooo boring. I mean, never would I think to blog about a good movie I've seen or a good book, my sibling's birthdays or random stuff like that. Blog posts have to be exciting and funny, all the time. ALL THE TIME. And I hate to smile and laugh, not to mention making others smile and laugh. I challenge you all to a stare down. But I'm trying to change. Bear with me, be patient. It'll take some time. Lots of time. Or here's a thought: maybe I just have better things to do than post my life on a blog. Probably not though. Probably not.
(this was posted by Rosemary to try to motivate H. Nelson to not be so lazy about blogging. everything said in the post was said out of the utmost care and love I have for Holly, although said with rampant sarcasm. i am not a mean or vindictive person)
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
The Last of the Little Guys
Sunday was this young one's 12th birthday. We've been celebrating it for about four days because we love him so much. What can I say, the kid makes us laugh.
A few things to know about him:
He can make really ugly faces. Really ugly. You don't even have to ask.
He's a darn good wakeboarder and skier.
He's bound to be the next Itzak Perlman.
He may also be the next Charlton Heston.
He can take Andrew down. (slight weight difference)
He's quite the yo-yo man, probably the best 12 year old yo-yo-er in the Salt Lake Valley.
And he's just a really great person who includes everyone and is an awesome friend and little brother.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Something about being a Campbell...
...a Campbell girl, at least. And some of the boys. For some reason, we all love Harry Potter, we all wish we went to Hogwarts, and we all love Lord of the Rings and wish we were hobbits. Too short to be elves. Maybe it's our Scottish heritage of living in castles and brutally conquering our minions, rebelling and pillaging land. How that all factors into a love of magical, mythical storytelling, I'm not sure. But this love exists in the Campbell family, probably coming down the line through our fathers who introduced us to Mr. Tolkien's literature and our later discovery of Ms. Rowling. We took it from there. Want proof? Cousin Sarah is in love with Harry (understandable). Cousin Amy is a fan of Professor Snape (not really sure...). Sister Caroline thinks Draco is attractive (also not really sure...) and Cousin Anna, well, Anna would probably get along well with Ginny Weasley (both quite sarcastically funny, Anna more so). Cousin Matt can do an eerily accurate impression of Gollum, or so we hear (he's never shown us). And I've been told I strongly resemble Hermione (the book Hermione, because of my mane of hair). Brothers Stephen, Andrew and Spencer...well, they're the most hobbit-like Campbell's yet, something they may or may not grow out of (their feet indicate they won't)(so hairy).
I do recall a Christmas family gathering where Sarah enthusiastically told us about a film crew in New Zealand hiring extras to be hobbits and that we should go. Wasn't a joke. She also claims to know the language of the Elves.
I remember another holiday gathering where we watched a movie of Amy's making in which she was Frodo Baggins, on a quest to Mordor. Her hairdo made for an uncanny resemblance.
I remember sitting on a couch for 14 hours, watching all three extended films of the Lord of the Rings trilogy in one sitting with some friends.
We've read the books. And read them. And read them. When the last few Harry Potter books came out, my family had to buy multiple copies of each one so no fist fights would break out over whose turn it was to read.
Needless to say, we are nerds.
But. This is who we are. You know who we wish to be. Want to be our friend? Buy us a flying broomstick or whistle beautifully into the wind for your white stallion. We'll ride/fly away happily into the sunset. Because we haven't yet learned to apparate.
I do recall a Christmas family gathering where Sarah enthusiastically told us about a film crew in New Zealand hiring extras to be hobbits and that we should go. Wasn't a joke. She also claims to know the language of the Elves.
I remember another holiday gathering where we watched a movie of Amy's making in which she was Frodo Baggins, on a quest to Mordor. Her hairdo made for an uncanny resemblance.
I remember sitting on a couch for 14 hours, watching all three extended films of the Lord of the Rings trilogy in one sitting with some friends.
We've read the books. And read them. And read them. When the last few Harry Potter books came out, my family had to buy multiple copies of each one so no fist fights would break out over whose turn it was to read.
Needless to say, we are nerds.
But. This is who we are. You know who we wish to be. Want to be our friend? Buy us a flying broomstick or whistle beautifully into the wind for your white stallion. We'll ride/fly away happily into the sunset. Because we haven't yet learned to apparate.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Allegiance
Freedom to worship.
Freedom to change.
Freedom to protest.
Freedom to change.
Freedom to protest.
Freedom to defend.
Freedom to speak.
Freedom to travel.
Freedom to create.
Freedom to agree.
Freedom to learn.
Freedom to think.
Freedom to hope.
Freedom to trust.
Freedom to read.
Freedom to vote.
Freedom to own.
Freedom to love.
Freedom to live.
Why are you proud to be an American?
Happy 4th of July, everyone:)
*Picture from Matt Ehrsam Designs
Freedom to create.
Freedom to agree.
Freedom to learn.
Freedom to think.
Freedom to hope.
Freedom to trust.
Freedom to read.
Freedom to vote.
Freedom to own.
Freedom to love.
Freedom to live.
Why are you proud to be an American?
Happy 4th of July, everyone:)
*Picture from Matt Ehrsam Designs
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
No longer a teen
Well after a week of being 20, so much has changed...hm, not really. The biggest change is just saying that I'm 20. Two decades, seems old, yet still so young. It's funny how when you're little, you can't wait to be "legal" and be able to sign for yourself, but all that comes with age is more and more responsibility and bigger decisions to make. I find myself wishing I could go back to my carefree childhood days sometimes. How fun was it to go run through the sprinklers for hours on a hot summer day and lay on the cement to dry off while eating popsicles or riding your bike to the gas station to get some candy and a slurpee and on your way back try to catch baby quail? Oh the good old days. Well I don't mean to dwell in the past, it's just that I don't think I took advantage of my childhood, I didn't appreciate it enough. HOWever, I am looking forward to what it coming in my life. There really is so much to live for. Stepping into the unknown is scary, but who knows, I could live for another 80 years and you can do a heck of a lot in 80 years. So I'll take Elder Wirthlin's saying to heart, "come what may and love it" and that's what I plan to do. Thanks to all of my family, friends and those who fall in both categories (Rose), it's been an awesome adventure so far and I'm looking forward to many many more!
~holly
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Never a dull moment
Yesterday was this treasure's birthday. He's 15 now and one of a kind. The world should probably watch out.
Some words to describe him:
Avid cellist
Nutty as a fruitcake
Daft like Jack
Radiant
Ever so excited about girls
Wacky
Avid cellist
Nutty as a fruitcake
Daft like Jack
Radiant
Ever so excited about girls
Wacky
Monday, June 22, 2009
Two decades = 20 years
Everyone. Yesterday was the Hollster's birthday! She is now 20 years old and much more mature than she was five, ten, even fifteen years ago. Of course, that's a matter of opinion, but I digress.
Here are some things that make Holly great:
One time in high school we were walking out of our Precalc class and it was March. Holly turns to me and says,"Rose, when's April Fools' day?"
Another time we were in our art class and Holly was playing with a stapler, putting her finger right where the staples shoot out. Next thing I know she's jumping up and down holding her finger and I'm dying of laughter because she had stapled her finger.
At Brighton, the halls were circular and whenever we'd be walking together Holly could never walk straight and if I didn't occasionally give her a little push, she would run me straight into the wall.
One time we were late for our history class so we were running through the halls. It was a snowy day so the halls were really slippery and as we rounded a corner, Holly slipped, fell onto her knees and slid across the floor, all the while trying to grab the lockers for support. We barely kept straight faces when we walked into class.
Whenever we'd go to her house for lunch she'd make us really tasty cheese quesadillas and we'd eat pickles and drink lemonade.
All those memories are from high school, but funny stuff happened back then. Funny stuff still happens, but I'm currently suffering from short term memory loss.
Holly's a great person. She's genuine and sincere, and she cares about the right things and the right people (me). I'm glad she's my friend. Happy birthday, Holly:)
Here are some things that make Holly great:
One time in high school we were walking out of our Precalc class and it was March. Holly turns to me and says,"Rose, when's April Fools' day?"
Another time we were in our art class and Holly was playing with a stapler, putting her finger right where the staples shoot out. Next thing I know she's jumping up and down holding her finger and I'm dying of laughter because she had stapled her finger.
At Brighton, the halls were circular and whenever we'd be walking together Holly could never walk straight and if I didn't occasionally give her a little push, she would run me straight into the wall.
One time we were late for our history class so we were running through the halls. It was a snowy day so the halls were really slippery and as we rounded a corner, Holly slipped, fell onto her knees and slid across the floor, all the while trying to grab the lockers for support. We barely kept straight faces when we walked into class.
Whenever we'd go to her house for lunch she'd make us really tasty cheese quesadillas and we'd eat pickles and drink lemonade.
All those memories are from high school, but funny stuff happened back then. Funny stuff still happens, but I'm currently suffering from short term memory loss.
Holly's a great person. She's genuine and sincere, and she cares about the right things and the right people (me). I'm glad she's my friend. Happy birthday, Holly:)
Sunday, June 14, 2009
The Commodore's Big Day
Today was the father's birthday. What a wonderful man! One of the greatest among greats.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Oh the fun fun fun.
I cleaned my room today.
And I also washed the kitchen floor.
Thought you visitors should know.
Thanks,
Rose
Monday, June 1, 2009
Thundering Tumult
At first I thought it was an insane thunderstorm.
Then I saw my family running outside and wondered, "Why is my family running out into the middle of a storm?"
Then I heard it again.
Then I saw my family running outside and wondered, "Why is my family running out into the middle of a storm?"
Then I heard it again.
Pretty awesome, I'd say.
The weather then decided to mimic the planes, as seen by these intense cloud formations.
Happy rain:)
Friday, May 29, 2009
C l o u d y
If you haven't already, take a look outside at the mountains. They are so GREEN! This picture doesn't even do them justice, but I didn't take it so don't blame me...
Monday, May 18, 2009
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