I'm Going There Someday

Scott Cannon

Day After Thanksgiving

Tromping through the woods

Snow-covered trees

The perfect Christmas tree

The Season is here

Happy Thanksgiving

I am grateful for . . .

• My family
• My roommates
• Spencer
• My friends
• The Gospel of Jesus Christ
• My mission call
• Russia
• The temple
• A roof over  my head
• Food to eat
• Hugs
• Chocolate
• Blankets
• Running water
• BYU
• My education
• My healthy body
• The Atonement and repentance
• Technology
• Automobiles
• Safe travel
• Music
• Sleep
• Literature
• Shakespeare
• Movies
• Art of all kinds
• Nature
• England
• Writing
• My job
• Love
• And much, much more

I'm Harry, Harry Potter

It was well worth writing 30 (yes, 30) pages of essay in 3 days in order to experience tonight.

The dressing up. My roommates and friends. Holding hands and screaming and freaking out during all the right moments. Experiencing Harry Potter and England and these things I love so much. It was beautiful, brilliant--both as Harry Potter and as its own film. Congrats, David Yates. You've made this hard-to-please Harry Potter fan very upset that she has to wait 20 months to see Part 2 (but don't get me wrong, she's very glad you split it into two movies). I just feel sorry for those people outside of the 5ish-year age group of the Harry Potter generation. They don't understand. They didn't literally grow up side by side with Harry, Hermione, Ron, Neville, and the others.

Hello, my name is Rachel, and I am a proud member of the Harry Potter generation. AND I LOVED DEATHLY HALLOWS PART 1.

P.S. England and Lit 2009 shout-out. Malham Cove. Freaked out when I saw it in the movie. I was like . . . "I know that place. That's Malham. I'VE BEEN THERE." Love love love.
P.P.S. I'm too lazy right now to do more than just paste a link, but I also love love love this picture and it epitomizes what I want to do right now: http://www.flickr.com/photos/joel_r/5090741361/sizes/l/in/set-72157625060828229/

Stress

I haven't been this legitimately stressed out in a while, mostly because I feel as if I've learned how to deal with my stress through the years. But here's how you can tell that my body and mind are both rebelling against these anti-stress techniques and that I'm stressed.

• My productivity comes in huge waves.
• I can't get up in the morning to save my life, no matter how much sleep I've gotten.
• I haven't had this much hair come out of my hand--whether in the shower, in my brush, or shedding just because--it a LONG time. (Good thing I have a lot of it to lose, although I'd rather it stay where God put it)
• CRAZY DREAMS about things I am anxious about. Last night involved events mostly centering around my Shakespeare and Film midterm, although it also had cameo appearances from not finding parking, being late, not showering, my Pearl of Great Price class, seeing Spencer, and just feeling horrible.You know it's bad when you start writing papers in your dreams. As you, my thought process involved no images, but it was like I was sitting at my computer writing a paper. They were really great ideas too, unfortunately, it just stressed me out and I can't remember any of the specific ideas.

Chair Dance Party

Just a a few things.

I think Shakespeare and Beyonce would have been friends. It's the only explanation for why Halo popped into my head while working on outlining my midterm essays for Dr. Siegfried's class. So of course I had to listen to it. And the more I think about it, the more Beyonce's songs fit perfectly with Will's plays. Halo = Romeo and Juliet. If I Were a Boy = Midsummer Night's Dream, or any of the cross-dressing comedies like Twelfth Night or As You Like It. Irreplaceable =  Othello. Okay, so that one was a bit of a stretch, and they're getting tougher, but really. Can you see it? I can see it. Oh, Beyonce and Shakespeare. How I love thee both.

AND HARRY POTTER AT MIDNIGHT IN JUST A FEW NIGHTS!!!! We're all dressing up. Jen and I are going to be the Patil twins. And we're all going to have Horcruxes. Yes, we are that cool.

MWAP!

 I've realized that there are two halves to my brain, which we shall now explore further in depth.

1. The I WANT TO MAKE WEIRD NOISES! side. This part of my brain really just wants to make noise and for some reason thinks it'll be as awesome as possible to be as obnoxious as possible. This involves making cat-esque noises, screeches, screams, Lisa-heep imitations, whistles and other quite indescribable caterwaulings. And because I think, in my brain, that these sounds would be really cool and socially acceptable and AWESOME to make, I do. This part of my brain is also very nimble and quick, like the Jack who jumped over the candle stick. But there's a catch.
2. There is the second half of my brain, the RACHEL THAT IS NOT SOCIALLY ACCEPTABLE/TACTFUL side. This side of brain is obviously a stick in the mud and not very fun. But you know, it's helped me get this far in life, so I figure I should keep it around. In fact, it often comes in handy. Unfortunately, it also thinks a lot slower than the I WANT TO MAKE WEIRD NOISES! side of my brain. This provides for interesting situations. 

For a hypothetical, "nothing like this has EVER happened" example, a few roommates and I stand/sit around our apartment, all doing various things. And then Half 1 of my brain (think Thing 1 and Thing 2 from the Cat in the Hat, or maybe Kronk's shoulder angel/devil) says, "RACH! It'd be a great idea for you to just kinda make some random, crazy-sounding noise right now. Come on. Really loud. Just do it. Ready . . . GO!" And so I do what it tells me to. Obviously. I mean, it's not like I haven't thought it through--my brain just did think it through. INSERT NOISE HERE. And then . . . About a full minute later . . . Half 2 says, "Rachel, dearest, you shouldn't listen to that first side of your brain, you know. It's crazy, bonkers, round the bend. And people probably won't think your cool if you make noises like that and yell at them all the time, no matter how lovingly. They'll probably just think you're an idiot and laugh at you and love you, but think you're kind of socially inept or something. So . . . don't actually make that noise, okay? Let's just stay sane and full of tact and good social judgement."

Whoops. Too late.

P.S. If you can't tell, it's kind of late at night and I have a very interesting thought process late at night when I try to be funny but don't really succeed. This is also associated with the 1st half of my brain that thinks it's all that and funny and awesome, when really, it's more just obnoxious and kind of dumb. So sorry that I say dumb things sometimes. Even my socially-able side thinks that they're still funny, even if they are dumb too. The end. 

Time to Start Shopping

We are getting Kate a chinchilla for Christmas. 

CHINCHILLA!

 (. . . maybe)

I Should Have Used the Other Door!

3/4s of Mwah Fafloogah

Here's something that harks back to the good ol' days of Girl's Camp 2007, where Lindsey and I ruled the world as graduated seniors and third-year YCLS, and we hung out with Julie Bastian and Chip and Kristine, and our "destinies" were based on initials/YW leader's sons and things were funnier with twinkies on our heads and no one wanted to be Coriander seed and everything was Harry Potter and no one got any sleep (which explains quite a bit of what you're about to read). Please excuse any blatant errors. This is copied and pasted many times removed, and I fixed most of them I could see. And now, I present to you a story of silliness, by the best-selling authors of "Larry Snotter and the Goblet of Coffee" . . . 

Oozing Spleeniness

by Mwah Fafloogah

The two men were scaling the wall to the abyss. They were both nursing their injuries from the fall. One man had a severed lip. The other man had a severed spleen and was oozing spleen spleeniness all over his pants. "What does your spleen do anyway?" said the man trying to lighten the mood. "I'm not a doctor." the man snapped. "It does what it's supposed to I guess." Silence fell between them as they continued their acsent upwards. All of a sudden a flying monkey, that looked aged from rotten bannanas, appeared to lick the man's oozing spleeniness. The monkey was wearing a purple bandana and heart boxers. Loosing his white knuckled grip on the granite wall, and was about to plumet to his death. He was miraculously saved by the flying monkey because of his greed for oozing spleeniness. His friend that still clung to the rock, was frozen by sheer panic. No way of helping his friend he continued his acent upwards. 

The monkey having had his fill of spleeniness let the man continue his fall. It seemed for a time he was doomed to sudden distruction but this being the abyss, there was no bottom. But there was a ledge. he was saved when he fell on the back of a unicorn. Miraculously he was not dead from oozing spleeniness. The unicorn whinneyed (horse thing) and a giant bat came swooping down hearing the call of the unicorn. He swooped down to help his distressed friend. He grabbed the man off the unicorns back. He decided at this moment that he would shout his name, Stanley. He heard back the echo "I'm really a woman!" Confused by this new echo the bat drops the man who returned to his thoughts of his sudden destruction. But this being the abyss, there was no bottom. But there was ledges! 

Stanley landed with a sickening crunch. There was a sudden POP. and Harry Potter, scar and all, had apparated into the nothingness. Stanley's appearance had mutated so he was a shocking shade of periwinkle. Harry Potter gazed at his beastly appearance. "I'm Harry. Harry Potter." Harry said in a fake british accent. "Harry Potter?" The man said repeating the fake british accent. "I, Harry Potter, will take pity on your poor wretched soul." Potter said still using his fake brittish accent. Potter whiped out his wand with a flourish. He levitated poor Stanley onto the back of the unicorn which caused him so much grief earlier. But Stanley resisted saying "No not the unicorn!" And that caused Harry's own spell to backfire on him. And Harry Potter was levitated onto the unicorn himself. The unicorn recognized Harry Potter and gored him with his horn and plunged him into the abyss. Tragically for Harry Potter there were no ledges to save his whiney (not horse thing) life. 

Stanley returned to his spot where he was previously levitated. Amazed at his continued life he leaned over the edge and said "You're just jealous because your spleen isn't oozing spleen sleeniness!" The jealous abyss answered back in the same echo he heard earlier. "I'm really a woman!" The startleing revelation echoed back to the man with the severed lip causing him to loose his tentative grip on the granite wall. His form plunged passed Stanley. But this being the abyss there was no bottom, but there are ledges! Unfortunately, he did not land on any. Stanley had leaned over the edge too far to watch his traitotous friend's fall. His oozing spleeniness made his hands loose his grip. And Stanley continued, once again, his doomed distructive plummet. But this being the abyss, there was no bottom but suddenly he plunged into something wet. The icy chill ran up and down his spine, tingleing it's tingly tingle of death. Stanley EEped."But this is an abyss, there is no bottom" Stanley exclaimed. Then, the realization dawned on him. "This is a ledge" he cried with emotions jerking him to near tears. What Stanley failed to realize was that the ledge was pure water. So he plummeted like a rock!

Continuing his descent Stanley was used to the crunching sound on ledges. What was suprizing about this ledge was the beautiful face that looked at his morbid form. He recognized this face instantly as a blast from his childhood. It was Belle from Beauty and the Beast. "I will help you in your distress, poor child" she said. "I'm not a child!" Stanley replied. The echo came back to him saying "I'm really a woman!" Belle grabbed Stanley's shirt that was stained with oozing spleeniness and threw him mightily as if she was Klark Kent's cousin. Stanley's heart lept with joy as the sunlight broke through the gloom of the abyss. But Stanley did not stop when he reached the top of the Abyss. Yes it's true. Abyss's have tops, and ledges. But no bottoms. He continued to soar impossibly high. And he broke through the atmosphere that surrounded the strange world. The air was sucked from his lungs, and his soal continued the journey his body could not.

THE END!!!

Chandler Burr . . .

writes perfume reviews, and pens gems like these:

• "If Chanel No. 5 were a Jolly Rancher flavor, this would be it."
• "Yes, something’s there, but it’s detectable in the way that AM radio picks up ghost-like murmurings."
• "It starts out as a delightful retro, channeling the aftershave used decades ago in Italian barbershops – delicious, aromatic pine with bark of burnished cinnamon. About five hours later, after that burns off, the scent that remains is neutral human breath, warm and strange – and incredibly, almost upsettingly intimate. The barber is inches away, squinting as he trims your sideburns. If you find that he’s a bit too close, simply reapply after a few hours and the ’50s-era pine will return and endure."
• "It’s a gourmand, and I have a real weakness for gourmands."
• "Laotian benzoin, a sweet Asian incense, approximates its warmth, and Japanese yuzu, a deliciously fragrant citrus with notes of lemon and tangerine, conjures its aromatic, nearly edible quality."

Also, perfume names . . . they're ridiculous in the most ridiculous way. Like "Midnight Fantasy Britney Spears" (I actually really do love this review though. Made me literally LOL).

And this, my friends, is what Kate and I stay up late reading. It's absolutely ridiculous, and I'm now addicted. 

Better

When you are stressed out and worried and not feeling very happy, here are some things that should happen. And then you will feel better.

• Hug from Lisa
• Pumpkin cake from Jen
• Hilarious comments from Kate
• Excitement from Jake
• Call from Spencer

And somehow, that will make the world all right and you'll be happier and renewed and able to write your outline and get to bed at a semi-reasonable hour.

WARNING WARNING

This post is being written by an emotional, stressed-out, exhausted girl running on almost no sleep who has been doing homework, or sitting in class or at work for essentially all of the past 45ish hours. My mom had her baby, which is great and exciting and all, but seeing how little Jacob Benjamin can't really do my homework for me or make all my responsibility go away, and I don't get to meet him until next weekend at the earliest, it's more just stressful. My brain is broken, which is bad, seeing how I still have to write my entire Pearl of Great Price outline. It feels like Friday, because the week has been so long, yet a Friday that by some cruel twist of fate is actually Monday, because I still have so much to do until I reach the end of the week. I am physically, mentally, spiritually, and emotionally drained. My room is a mess and I don't have time to clean it until it becomes priority number #1 for cleaning checks on Saturday, which means I don't get to sleep in.

What I really want to do is have a good cry, and then curl up on the couch with a blanket and my boy, eating some of my favorite mac and cheese (oh, I just want some warm, unhealthy dairy comfort food) and watching movie. That would make me forget everything not good in the world.

smitten kitchen
This is not my favorite recipe. Only the best look-alike picture I could find.

AHHHH! SHAKESPEARE AND FILM!!!

Orson Welles as Macbeth

Nazgul King from Peter Jackson's LotR

See a resemblance? Both men, who have become only shadows due to their lust for power. Both believe they cannot be defeated, either by man born of woman, or man, and end up being proved wrong. Yep, Peter Jackson brilliantly cites Orson Welles's Macbeth with his Nazgul King, especially in the scene where Eowyn kills the Nazgul. Once again--can we say BRILLIANT? This is why Shakespeare and Film with Dr. Siegfried is the best class ever. Apparently there are a lot more Shakespeare/Shakespeare film citations/allusions in the LotR trilogy. Makes me want to watch the extended versions with Jen before I leave for the mission. Now if only I had the time . . .