Styhead Pass

For those of you who were lucky enough to experience Styhead, I encourage you to do a Google Image search (or some other search engine I guess works too). Go on, search Google Images for "Styhead Pass." See what you come up with. I came up with a bunch of images that (if I strained my brain really hard to imagine mist surrounding everything and focus on the scenery in my memory) looked VAGUELY familiar. But really, the only one that I recognized definitely was this one...

http://scottishwintermountaineering.co.uk/photos2006/styhead.jpg

Okay, so that's not us, and I'm pretty sure our day was foggier and wetter and more King Lear-ish, but since when is the Lake District sunny like all those other pictures? But besides the weather, the one thing in that picture that rang out the familiar chords of Styhead Pass for me?

http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3174/2698647659_4c2741bb68.jpg?v=0

Disillusioned

One night, in London (it all seems like a dream now), I stood in the National Theater, having just finished watching a performance of Shakespeare's All's Well That Ends Well. Now, if you know All's Well, you'll know that it's a problem play, and it leaves you feeling and thinking, "What the heck just happened?" And that is how this performance was. The supposedly-happy couple at the end--that you are really thinking, "Why does she even want him anymore?!"--is taking their wedding pictures. And in the last freeze-frame of the play, no one is really smiling. I smirked and matter-of-fact-ly stated, "Because there are no happy endings in real life." Katy and Bentley laughed at me, responding, "We didn't realize you were so disillusioned Rachel, but maybe there's something in your past we don't know about." I was quite serious. I do believe in happy endings, I really do, and I'm not sure how to explain the fact that I was serious about there being no happy endings when I really do believe in them, but I promise that it works out. I was serious more about the concept rather than reality. Anyway, I'm only confusing myself now.

But Katy and Bentley were right. They don't know part of my past that counts as a disillusionment period. In fact, for two people who spent every hour of 2 months with me and who had lots of talks with me, they hardly know anything about me and events in my life. Because I don't talk about them a lot. Maybe the only people (from the trip) who know about the two major events I'm thinking about are Christine, John Bennion, Anneliese...And then I think that I hardly know anything about lots of the people I was with too. And that scares me. Stupid fear of personal disclosure. Stupid wanting to know people and thinking you do until you realize that you don't. And then you realize that it really doesn't matter and you love them anyway and you do know them, even if you don't necessarily know the events that made them who they are.

Anyway. My past. Being disillusioned. There have definitely been times where I've felt disillusioned, like there are no happy endings. And yet, I'm happy, for the most part, now. Life goes on. Yet, looking forward to the future, the times where I will be completely happy in the places I have perhaps been disillusioned in seem so far away and almost impossible to reach. Although I'm happy now, it sometimes seems as if my time for a happy ending will never come. I believe once, in a journal-ish type writing thing I worded it like, I believe in happy endings, just not for me. Ugh. How gross is that? I'm lame.

Just so none of you worry, I am not currently feeling that way. It's only been a train of thought I've had tonight. The only disillusionment I'm feeling right now is the sad fact that my time in England had to end, that I couldn't stay there forever and that I'm now back to being stuck in Twin, working a job that I know I can do better than (but am afraid I'll be stuck in for the rest of my working life), and that the progression is stopped. I feel like I'm writing the personal essay of my life and now I have writer's block.

So, although I'm disillusioned by accepting the fact that I live on a blighted star rather than in a Utopia, I guess I'm not quite to Dystopia and ultra-Tess-blighted star yet. :)

Sitting Pretty

You know you've worked at DownEast Basics too long when...

You know that the shirt you're wearing is called "The Sitting Pretty Top" in Fig and it also comes in Turtle Green.
You've started almost answering your cell and home phone "DownEast Basics; this is Rachel."
It bugs you when your shirts at home aren't folded the "right" way and when the tags on shirts in other stores stick out it drives you insane.
At last count, over 60 DownEast shirts filled your closet. And that was a couple months ago.
Your manager starts dating someone in the summer. You leave town to go back to school and when you come back to work again the next summer, they're married.
All you ever seem to say is "Hi! What can I help you find today?" and then go on to explain the current promotion.
You hate much of what the company does and wish you made more and wish your discount was higher, and yet you can't bring yourself to quit (although this might just be because I need the money...)

All this after 4 months there last summer and 3 weeks so far this one. Oh wow. :) I'll probably transfer down to Provo this year. Oh, DownEast Basics...why is our relationship so full of love, so full of hate?

WTMF

What the Monkey Feathers.

I have no direction in my life and have no idea what I'm doing at all with anything anymore or even what I feel and what I want and what is best for me.

Things I'm Thinking Right Now

My lower extremities hurt. I feel worse than I did after I had spent the day hiking 17 miles and then standing at the Bronte museum. AKA I think I'll wear my hiking boots to work tomorrow for another 7 hour shift of standing and running around the store.

I never want to work directly with my manager again.

Heehee. Giggle.

I want to see my best mate. And Lisa. And Amandas. And Camille. And Christine. And I want to work with Julie.

I'm Harry, Harry Potter.

I want ice cream. And dark chocolate digestives.

I miss talking like Chris Bennion.

When I'm this tired, I can sleep anywhere.

I want letters. I also need to write letters.

I want to go stargazing.

The end.

Sigh

That last post wasn't supposed to be nearly so long...

Rollercoasters

My best friend turned 20 today. Makes me feel old. And yet I'm excited to turn 20 in a couple weeks. Ups and downs.

Opening the store at work means over 50 hours of work this week. Yay money, but boo being tired. And it makes me want to spend my money on cute clothes. Ups and downs.

Being at home is...I can't say nice. Not after some of the things that have happened while being here. And yet it is. But I miss Matt. My mom and I are getting along better these past couple weeks. But my dad and I have been a lot worse than usual. Ups and downs.

I enjoy seeing the friends that I do here in Twin--Chip and Kristine, and hopefully soon Lisa and Lindsey comes home soon. But I miss those who aren't here. My England family, Sarahs, Amanda, Lila, Tracy, temporarily Lindsey. And I wish I were with them. Ups and downs.

I loved getting a random email from John Bennion today and reading it and laughing and then starting to cry because it made me miss him and everyone else so much. Ups and downs.

I love helping people and giving them advice and being happy with them, or even being sad with them and listening to them and whatever, if that's what they need. I love giving an old roommate advice through her struggles that are so similar to mine and what I've recently gone through (or am still going through). I love talking to an old friend and just listening to the wonderful but confusing things going on in her life and cheering for her. But I hate it when I just want to cry, and need someone there, and no one is--not because they don't want to be, because I know that if they knew and had any possible way to, they'd be there in a second. But because they don't know that I'm silently crying myself to sleep, missing hugs and friends and needing more than just someone to talk to. And even if they did, they are halfway across the world or country or state or city, hours away or even just unreasonable minutes. It's not that they wouldn't be more than happy to. It's just that it's physically impossible or too unreasonable for me even to suggest anything but wishing. Ups and downs.

"Just because they can't feel it, too, doesn't mean that you have to forget"

The Call--Regina Spektor. Go listen to this song right now. It screams England to me. As in my experience and friends, not just the country. Especially the last verse. I want to go back to my Narnia.

It started out as a feeling
Which then grew into hope
Which then turned into a quiet thought
Which then turned into a quiet word
And then that word grew louder and louder
Till it was a battle cry
I'll come back when you call me
No need to say goodbye

Just because everything's changing
Doesn't mean it's never been this way before
All you can do is try to know who your friends are
As you head off to war
Pick a star on the dark horizon and follow the light
You'll come back when it's over
No need to say goodbye

You'll come back when it's over
No need to say goodbye

Now we're back to the beginning
It's just a feeling and no one knows yet
But just because they can't feel it, too
Doesn't means that you have to forget
Let your memories grow stronger and stronger
Till they're before your eyes
You'll come back when they call you
No need to say goodbye

You'll come back when they call you
No need to say goodbye

Relationship Advice, $.50. Oh, and Essays and HP

Yes, only $.50. Because that's about how much my advice is worth. It's better than free advice, but not by much. My ears, however are free, and that's because they're good. They're always there for you. But you know, for being single my whole life, and having basically botched any chances at relationships I've had in the past, and the amount of issues I've had with sorts of things like that...people come to me for relationship woes a lot.


I don't mind at all. I'm always there for someone who needs to talk to just talk, and I'll listen. If they want advice, I'll try to give some. But really, why me? It just doesn't make sense to me. Friends in the past have said it's because they know I'll listen (and I will. If anyone ever needs to talk to someone, call me up, no matter the time of day. Seriously). But when I start to give advice to I think, "Whoa. Rachel. What are you doing? You are not qualified to give that advice. In fact, if someone gave you that advice you would say, 'yeah, I know' but wouldn't do it. You shouldn't give advice you wouldn't do yourself."

Also. Today I was playing Debussy and Ravel because I'm taking summer piano lessons from my old teacher Bonnie and I was thinking, "This is impressionistic music. I want to write a personal essay." Yep. That was my train of thought. Now, if you had read some of my personal essays I wrote in England, that train of thought would make much more sense. But anyway. Then I thought of how Katie P. once said that she couldn't finish having an experience now because she always started to tie it into a possible essay and we all (read: everyone who was there at the time of this conversation which might have just been me but was probably only just me and/or a couple other people) agreed. I thought the essaying thing would stop when we left England, but apparently not. Which is a good thing. Except I never write in my journal anymore because my life is boring and/or we're not allowed to actually do stuff at the kiosk except sit and be bored. You can only straighten shirts so many times! It can't unfold itself! Which is why I'm excited to get the store where there will be more busy work to do instead of just sitting there bored as heck all the time and wishing that I could be writing when I can't because I'm sitting on a chair in the middle of the mall trying to look enthusiastic and not bored and hoping that some poor soul will stop and buy like $100 worth of shirts to keep me occupied for an hour. The end of that tangent. Sorry about that.

Um. So. I'm rereading Harry Potter. The British versions. I've probably already said that on here. But I'm almost done with number 4. As in, Cedric Diggory is dead and Voldemort has risen and is about to reveal his evil plot to Harry and then they'll duel. But I'm not their yet. I'm simply about to start Chapter 33: The Death Eaters and Voldemort has just risen. So I don't know about the whole creepy wand thing, Priori Incantatem, that's about to happen, or that all but 3 of my favorite characters will die in the next 3 books (REALLY JK Rowling!!!! You'd think a girl could keep at least HALF her list of characters she didn't want to die). ANYWAY (Dee-may-lo! I am so long winded...sorry peeps). I had forgotten how magical these books are. When reading the first one, maybe it's because I started it on the grass outside Westminster Abbey, but I was enraptured anew. And this is reading the book for about the 25th time. Given it was the first time in two years, since I reread the entire series in 2007 before the 7th book came out, but still. I don't remember it having been that amazing. Although, it had to have been for me to become obsessed with it. Also, I had forgotten how endearing Fred and George are. And Oliver Wood. And surprisingly Cedric Diggory. I liked him a lot this time around. I don't think I did before. In fact, I liked him so much that I was still shocked when he died. I knew it was going to happen and I was still shocked. Hey, thanks, JK Rowling. Even though you kill almost all my favorite characters, you did create a book series I can devote my life to and love whole-heartedly and read and reread 20 million billion times and still be absolutely in love with it and still be surprised and feel emotions the way I did the first time around. Or stronger. Hooray. Sigh. I love books.

I'm sorry I'm so long-winded. I wouldn't be surprised if people actually don't even read all this because most of it is just me rambling on about nothing really.

Oh, and thanks Emma Richey, for wanting me to go back to Tintagel and eat Custard Cremes and play with you. Remember that one time we were on the Isle of Wight going up to the Downs and you ate them all before I got any? Yeah, me too. BECAUSE I DIDN'T GET ANY! But I still love you anyway. :) Do they have Custard Cremes in the States? Harry Potter and Fred and George's Canary Creams make me really want to eat some...Emma, I'll share them with you. Anyone else can come too.

Okay, I'm really going to stop now. I mean it! Stop laughing at me! I am. Really. This is the end. Goodnight. P.S. I love you all. And Cheers. Kay. Bye. For reals.

New Look

I decided my blog name was boring. So I changed it. Ta-da! Custard Cremes and Milk. Random, less lame, and some of my favorite things to feast upon.

And then I decided that, in celebration of a new name, I needed a new look. So I got a little more tech-fancy than I usually do. I changed the colors, added the picture at the top (which, by the way, is of Tintagel, in Cornwall, which was on of my favorite places in England--it's taken from King Arthur's castle looking down into the cove that's home of Merlin's Cave), and...i don't know, just made things more exciting. :D

So yep. Welcome to the world of Custard Cremes and Milk!

Love

Because I'm missing my England family and the whole England experience of always being intellectually stimulated and always pondering, and also because going to work at DownEast again makes me feel like I'm going back to last summer and that England was a dream, which makes me kind of hate being in Twin Falls, I'm going to write a list of things that I love.

I love: when my best mate comes to town, laughing for 30 minutes for no reason and having the time of your life just sitting in the kitchen drinking milk with your best mate, Pixar movies, lightning, getting letters from missionaries, missionaries' family members who forward weekly emails or post them on blogs, rain, my Dad, forming my own opinions, free thinking, watching movies just for entertainment, watching movies that make you think, thinking a good thought that isn't too intellectually strenuous when you're watching a movie that you just expect to be fluff, reading friend's blogs, smiling, singing Defying Gravity and the top of your lungs with two best friends in the Winco parking lot before buying ice cream, writing letters to missionaries, reading Harry Potter, reading in general, looking through England and Lit pictures on Facebook, milk, waffles for breakfast, scrunchies, crossword puzzles, sudoku, good dreams, falling asleep after a long day, and the last one for tonight is: really, really, really awesome friends, whether they're your best mate who's just home for the weekend, an "older brother" who's currently on a mission, your soul mate, or just someone who is wonderful who you haven't seen for a while but was just randomly thinking of.

The end. Cheers!