31 October 2009
29 October 2009
Eating Crow
Once upon a time, there was a very strong-willed girl. And because this stubborn characteristic had served her well often in her life, she was, not surprisingly, unwilling to change that about herself. She prided herself on using it when it came to important decisions and how capable she was of sticking to those positions.
She was a big fan of musical theatre, and in high school, there was a new musical out on Broadway called, "Rent." From what she'd heard about it, she felt strongly that she didn't want to have any interest in it. Thus, when a group of friends announced they were planning to see the Natn'l tour of it playing in L.A., she not only turned down the invitation, but she lectured her then-boyfriend about how & why he shouldn't go either. He went anyway (as he should) and came back raving about the experience. She was surprised how she felt more hurt by the envy than the so-called "betrayal." Of course, she didn't admit that to him.
A year or so later, after this young couple had gone their separate ways, this girl was away at college. As she was shopping at a Virgin Records store (pre-iTunes-days, you see) she stumbled across the 2-disc set of "Rent" in a sale bin. Her curiosity won out, and she made the purchase, figuring that it was a harmless choice for $9.99 (plus tax). She went back to her apartment, grateful that her roommates were obviously still in class, and began to listen. Next thing she knew, it had become her favorite musical. She played it every day at every possible moment, memorizing the entire thing, purchasing the vocal selections, dancing around the apartment with one of her roommates, singing at the top of her lungs. She even went to see a live production in Palm Springs with a good friend. Somehow, the ex-boyfriend caught wind of it and called her, teasing her ruthlessly as she had to quietly admit she was wrong before.
*chew, chew, chew, gulp*
Not much later, maybe 3 years, this same girl was doing a performing stint in Japan. As she was sitting in the green room in between shows, she was chatting with some fellow cast members while they all ate their lunch. One of the cast mates pulled out an avocado. The girl crinkled up her nose and, being the dope that she was, exclaimed, "Ew! I hate avocados! Are you just going to eat it plain?!"
The cast mate replied, "No. Of course not. But it tastes really good on Saltines."
The girl exclaimed, "Gross! That is so sick!"
Another cast mate, suspicious of the overreaction, questioned, "Have you ever even tasted an avocado?"
The girl recoiled. No. "Um... maybe not."
"'Maybe not'?!"
"... no."
"Then how do you know you don't like them?"
After another ten minutes of a losing battle (due to an obvious invalid argument) the girl finally tried a small slice of avocado on a saltine cracker.
She ended up buying a pack of 4 at a small convenience store on the way home from work that day. It took a few months before she had the courage to pack one in her lunch. When she did, her cast mates (deservedly) took the opportunity to say a few things before finally letting it slide and allowing her to eat in peace.
*chew, chew, chew... digest"
You would thing this girl would learn her opinionated lesson.
Wrong.
Recently, a book came out. And then 4 of these books came out. As well as movies of these books. And t-shirts & bumper stickers & pens & ... pretty much anything that one could imagine. The obsession this book created was amusing to her. So much so, that she found herself mocking it and the people who loved it. She swore, despite enjoying to read, that she would never read these books. She was disgusted by the hype and verbally made that clear whenever getting the chance. She even made fun of friends who had fallen into its ridiculous clutches.
After fighting it for over two years and listening to a couple of well-meaning and at least seemingly intelligent friends, the girl was lent the book (for free - one of the stipulations).
When she'd already found a glaringly obvious grammatical error on page 9 (page 9?! Come ON, people!), she debated putting the book down and moving on with her happy, vampire-less life. But the kids were asleep. It was a nice, cool night. She was comfortable on the couch. It had been ages since she'd read an actual book about anything other than parenting. So she continued.
Over 300 pages later, she decided she'd better go to sleep...
... and 1 day later, she found herself knocking on the door of one of the friends she'd mocked, a teenage girl from her ward, asking for book #2, with an apologetic and sheepish expression on her face.
... and one of the only reasons she's actually capable of writing this blog at the moment (and not reading) is because the owner of these books isn't out of school yet, and so she has to wait another hour to obtain book #3.
*chew, chew, chew.... cough, choke, swallow*
Crow is not my favorite fowl... can't I just stick to chicken...?
She was a big fan of musical theatre, and in high school, there was a new musical out on Broadway called, "Rent." From what she'd heard about it, she felt strongly that she didn't want to have any interest in it. Thus, when a group of friends announced they were planning to see the Natn'l tour of it playing in L.A., she not only turned down the invitation, but she lectured her then-boyfriend about how & why he shouldn't go either. He went anyway (as he should) and came back raving about the experience. She was surprised how she felt more hurt by the envy than the so-called "betrayal." Of course, she didn't admit that to him.
A year or so later, after this young couple had gone their separate ways, this girl was away at college. As she was shopping at a Virgin Records store (pre-iTunes-days, you see) she stumbled across the 2-disc set of "Rent" in a sale bin. Her curiosity won out, and she made the purchase, figuring that it was a harmless choice for $9.99 (plus tax). She went back to her apartment, grateful that her roommates were obviously still in class, and began to listen. Next thing she knew, it had become her favorite musical. She played it every day at every possible moment, memorizing the entire thing, purchasing the vocal selections, dancing around the apartment with one of her roommates, singing at the top of her lungs. She even went to see a live production in Palm Springs with a good friend. Somehow, the ex-boyfriend caught wind of it and called her, teasing her ruthlessly as she had to quietly admit she was wrong before.*chew, chew, chew, gulp*
Not much later, maybe 3 years, this same girl was doing a performing stint in Japan. As she was sitting in the green room in between shows, she was chatting with some fellow cast members while they all ate their lunch. One of the cast mates pulled out an avocado. The girl crinkled up her nose and, being the dope that she was, exclaimed, "Ew! I hate avocados! Are you just going to eat it plain?!"
The cast mate replied, "No. Of course not. But it tastes really good on Saltines."
The girl exclaimed, "Gross! That is so sick!"
Another cast mate, suspicious of the overreaction, questioned, "Have you ever even tasted an avocado?"
The girl recoiled. No. "Um... maybe not."
"'Maybe not'?!"
"... no."
"Then how do you know you don't like them?"
After another ten minutes of a losing battle (due to an obvious invalid argument) the girl finally tried a small slice of avocado on a saltine cracker.
She ended up buying a pack of 4 at a small convenience store on the way home from work that day. It took a few months before she had the courage to pack one in her lunch. When she did, her cast mates (deservedly) took the opportunity to say a few things before finally letting it slide and allowing her to eat in peace.
*chew, chew, chew... digest"
You would thing this girl would learn her opinionated lesson.
Wrong.
Recently, a book came out. And then 4 of these books came out. As well as movies of these books. And t-shirts & bumper stickers & pens & ... pretty much anything that one could imagine. The obsession this book created was amusing to her. So much so, that she found herself mocking it and the people who loved it. She swore, despite enjoying to read, that she would never read these books. She was disgusted by the hype and verbally made that clear whenever getting the chance. She even made fun of friends who had fallen into its ridiculous clutches.
After fighting it for over two years and listening to a couple of well-meaning and at least seemingly intelligent friends, the girl was lent the book (for free - one of the stipulations).
When she'd already found a glaringly obvious grammatical error on page 9 (page 9?! Come ON, people!), she debated putting the book down and moving on with her happy, vampire-less life. But the kids were asleep. It was a nice, cool night. She was comfortable on the couch. It had been ages since she'd read an actual book about anything other than parenting. So she continued.
Over 300 pages later, she decided she'd better go to sleep...
... and 1 day later, she found herself knocking on the door of one of the friends she'd mocked, a teenage girl from her ward, asking for book #2, with an apologetic and sheepish expression on her face.
... and one of the only reasons she's actually capable of writing this blog at the moment (and not reading) is because the owner of these books isn't out of school yet, and so she has to wait another hour to obtain book #3.
*chew, chew, chew.... cough, choke, swallow*
Crow is not my favorite fowl... can't I just stick to chicken...?
23 October 2009
My Future SuperStar
These are from our trip up to Utah last August.
They are just too cute not to share. Sorry... well, not really.:)
*proud*
They are just too cute not to share. Sorry... well, not really.:)
*proud*
09 October 2009
A Love/Hate Relationship
Last night, David and I went to see "Parade" at the Mark Taper Forum in downtown L.A. (Thanks, Mom, for watching the girls).
When I found out that they were going to be doing this show so close to me, I nearly flipped out and was ecstatic to find that they weren't completely sold-out, yet. I was even more ecstatic to find out that cheap tickets (the only way to convince David to let me go) were also not completely sold-out!
"Parade" is one of my all-time favorite musicals. I bought the CD in, oh, I want to say 1999 0r 2000... and it's had plenty of play. Jason Robert Brown is one of my favorite musical theatre composers. As a singer, I love the dissonance as well as the unique lyrics and melodies that are found in his compositions. As a pianist, oh man.... his accompaniment is always much more complicated and richer than that of other composers *cough, cough* Lloyd Webber *cough.* I've actually played through much of his music without singing, just for the fun of it. Being able to play his music has also earned me a cool penny here & there in college when friends would pay me to play it for them at auditions and recitals because they couldn't find many to play his pieces.
The problem with his shows, however, is that they just aren't catching on with the general public. For some reason, us musical theatre enthusiasts (geeks) seem to adore him, however, his stuff generally never makes it past the off-Broadway realm. Which is lame. So lame. Trust me. Look into his stuff. He. is. awesome.
So, I was a little nervous because this musical is so near-&-dear to my heart, and the lead was going to be played by T.R. Knight of Grey's Anatomy fame. I don't watch the show, so I don't really know if he's that great of an actor. But, let me tell you, as a singer, I get SO IRRITATED when these film/television stars get these awesome roles in musicals and then botch them up because they can't sing!
So I was anxious....
He was phenomenal, BTW. Absolutely, perfectly, I-couldn't-believe-every-physical-nuance-even-his-dialect-was-spot-on-&-I-was-drawn-in-the-moment-he-stepped-on-stage-I-loved-every-single-minute-of-his-performance AMAZING he was.
But he's not who I love/hate. I loved him. Love, love, LOVED him! (Did I mention he was good?... because he was). P.S. the female lead was amazing as well. Her mezzo soprano mix was flawless and amazingly healthy. Bravo, Lara Pulver. Bra-freaking-vo.
Here's wherein lies my conundrum:
I love to go to the theatre. I especially love to go see musicals. And I ESPECIALLY love to go and see really good talent being performed within an amazing production. I have never gone to a professional production of a musical without crying the moment the lights go down and you hear even the faintest sound of the overture beginning. Anyone who's been with me to see a good show knows this is true. I've actually literally, fallen out of my seat before at shows where I was just moved by either the production itself or a person who is phenomenally talented. (I would've most likely done so last night, but it was a small theatre, and one of the ushers would've mistaken me for an epileptic).
GUH! I can't express in words the way it moves me. There have been moments, lying on the floor in my room, listening to a musical play, that I have choreographed and staged the entire production in my head as I listen (with me in the starring role, of course). Speaking of "Parade," I listened to it my 2nd night in Japan, 6 times IN A ROW, and bawled the whole time because I was homesick and the comfort of a good musical was all i knew to give me what I needed.
However - it is also very painful for me to go to the theatre. I get sick with envy, desire, and even (embarrassingly) occasional regret. I want to be up there! I want to be on that stage! I want to be the person taking on the life of someone else and presenting it for the world in song & dance form, moving someone to tap there foot or cry from their core or stand in applause because they just can't contain them self.
When I went with my mom & sister to see "Wicked" in L.A., last year, I sobbed through the entire song "Wizard & I" because I remembered going to that callback, singing that song for the director and casting director, the musical director at the piano, having them tell me I was perfect and doing exactly what they'd wanted, and then having to turn my back on it all, knowing it was not what was best for my daughter, my future children, and my marriage.
So, you see? It is a love/hate relationship. I love to go see a good musical, but I often hate that I'm not up there.
Going to see this show with David last night, however, I was put in an interesting place. He loves to perform as well. After all, it is how we met. But I found myself reminding him, at those moments when he expressed how it was hard for him to not be envious as he watched, that we have so much more than that. We do not receive the accolades and the paycheck. We don't have fans and that glamorous lifestyle.
But we have made 2 little people with spirits who are children of God who he works for in a boring cubicle to feed and give shelter to, and we are raising them in a home with their Mommy available in her sweatpants and poop/snot/food-stained t-shirts at their beck and call, to know about Jesus Christ and who we are guiding to make decisions that will bless them with eternal life...
...and there ain't no amount of singin' and dancin' in purty costumes with a full orchestra behind you and gettin' paid millions that deserves the ovation we deserve for doing what we do.
No amount.
Pssst! Don't tell anyone... but I will probably always feel this way whenever I go to a show. I'm resigned to that fact. *shrug*
P.S. Here's a little clip from the show's website.
04 October 2009
Why I Love Elder Holland
It was Spring General Conference of 2006. I was sitting in my 4-month-old baby's pitch black nursery, with a white noise machine running, my hand paralyzed on her back. I had read somewhere that being right there at the moment your baby wakes from a catnap so that you can pat/shush them right back into another sleep cycle was a good no-cry sleep solution for better naps. I had been warned by a sleep doctor that, while he advocated crying it out for most bad sleep habits, he didn't recommend it for Malia until her colic was officially gone.
So, as I did three times I day, I sat in her dark room during naps. It had to be dark. It was the only way she was capable of shutting out distractions. My left arm would be draped over her crib, constantly resting on her back as I played Tetris on my cell phone with my right. It had become a ritual.
While this sounds depressing, I had actually come to grow quite used to it. Some people suggested it was better for me if I just let her catnap so that I could actually have even a brief moment of free time. But that wasn't my reason for wanting to extend her naps. I wanted her to be as healthy as possible due to my ignorance as to what was causing her pain at that time. And I knew sleep could make a world of difference. Good sleep, that is.
However, despite it being a regular part of my daily life, it hit me kind of hard one Sunday Morning during General Conference. I have to admit, a tiny part of me was saying a prayer in my heart, asking the Lord to help her sleep better than usual so that I could listen to what He wanted me to hear. I figured this was the one time He might be willing to intervene.
Nope.
So, there I was, crying softly to myself in Malia's room, as she slept soundly, due only to the fact that I had eliminated all possibilities of her senses being stimulated and the comfort of my hand on her back.
Elder Holland has always been my favorite speaker. Even when I was younger and couldn't stand when my mom made us sit to watch Conference, I enjoyed him. There was a charm in his voice... a gleam in his eye. He smiled more than many of the apostles. I had hoped that he would speak while Malia wasn't napping so I wouldn't miss it.
As I was crying to myself, feeling somewhat bitter towards God due to His lack of making one exception to, what I thought, was a pretty righteous desire, I had an idea. I called our house phone on my cell phone. I could hear it ringing faintly in the living room. David picked it up, sounding a bit confused (we had caller ID).
"Um... hello? Are you ok?"
I replied as quietly as I could.
"Yes. I just thought of something. Can you put the phone on speaker, so that I can listen to Conference through my cell while I'm in here?"
"Oh... hey, good idea. No problem."
At that precise moment, through no coincidence, I'm convinced, Elder Holland began to speak. And through, yet again, no coincidence, he began to speak on a topic I was beginning to feel all too familiar with. Adversity.
"I speak to those who are facing personal trials and family struggles, those who endure conflicts fought in the lonely foxholes of the heart, those trying to hold back floodwaters of despair that sometimes wash over us like a tsunami of the soul. I wish to speak particularly to you who feel your lives are broken, seemingly beyond repair."
(Broken Things to Mend, Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, April 2006)
And so it was, I will always favor him over most of those wonderful men who speak to us every 6 months. Not because he's a better person. They're all phenomenal men. But because, I feel like he speaks to me.
And today, as he spoke on the Book of Mormon and was as straightforward as I've ever heard anyone be regarding its authenticity, it was no different.
Conference rules.
So, as I did three times I day, I sat in her dark room during naps. It had to be dark. It was the only way she was capable of shutting out distractions. My left arm would be draped over her crib, constantly resting on her back as I played Tetris on my cell phone with my right. It had become a ritual.
While this sounds depressing, I had actually come to grow quite used to it. Some people suggested it was better for me if I just let her catnap so that I could actually have even a brief moment of free time. But that wasn't my reason for wanting to extend her naps. I wanted her to be as healthy as possible due to my ignorance as to what was causing her pain at that time. And I knew sleep could make a world of difference. Good sleep, that is.
However, despite it being a regular part of my daily life, it hit me kind of hard one Sunday Morning during General Conference. I have to admit, a tiny part of me was saying a prayer in my heart, asking the Lord to help her sleep better than usual so that I could listen to what He wanted me to hear. I figured this was the one time He might be willing to intervene.
Nope.
So, there I was, crying softly to myself in Malia's room, as she slept soundly, due only to the fact that I had eliminated all possibilities of her senses being stimulated and the comfort of my hand on her back.
Elder Holland has always been my favorite speaker. Even when I was younger and couldn't stand when my mom made us sit to watch Conference, I enjoyed him. There was a charm in his voice... a gleam in his eye. He smiled more than many of the apostles. I had hoped that he would speak while Malia wasn't napping so I wouldn't miss it.
As I was crying to myself, feeling somewhat bitter towards God due to His lack of making one exception to, what I thought, was a pretty righteous desire, I had an idea. I called our house phone on my cell phone. I could hear it ringing faintly in the living room. David picked it up, sounding a bit confused (we had caller ID).
"Um... hello? Are you ok?"
I replied as quietly as I could.
"Yes. I just thought of something. Can you put the phone on speaker, so that I can listen to Conference through my cell while I'm in here?"
"Oh... hey, good idea. No problem."
At that precise moment, through no coincidence, I'm convinced, Elder Holland began to speak. And through, yet again, no coincidence, he began to speak on a topic I was beginning to feel all too familiar with. Adversity.
"I speak to those who are facing personal trials and family struggles, those who endure conflicts fought in the lonely foxholes of the heart, those trying to hold back floodwaters of despair that sometimes wash over us like a tsunami of the soul. I wish to speak particularly to you who feel your lives are broken, seemingly beyond repair."
(Broken Things to Mend, Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, April 2006)
And so it was, I will always favor him over most of those wonderful men who speak to us every 6 months. Not because he's a better person. They're all phenomenal men. But because, I feel like he speaks to me.
And today, as he spoke on the Book of Mormon and was as straightforward as I've ever heard anyone be regarding its authenticity, it was no different.
Conference rules.
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