book: vampirates!

Well, I finished the book. If you're looking for literary greatness, don't bother. The writing is horribly clunky, and there are a few premises in the plot that make you wonder what the author was thinking. Why was it necessary to set the story in the 2500s?

But, If you love vampires, and pirates, especially 17 year old Irish vampires who aren't trying to be more than friends, this book is for you.

It's a quick read, and truthfully, if my local library has the next book or two, I'd probably check them out. The story is fairly engaging. It's not a book I would recommend seeking out, unless you meet the qualifications stated above, but it's not a book that you would regret reading either.

I leave you now with words of wisdom from Vampirates:

[Life] won't be an easy journey - do not expect it to be. But the easy journeys are not worth the leather on the soles of our shoes... It's the journey that test us to our very core - the journeys that strip the clothes from our back, mess with our minds, and shake our spirits - these are the journeys worth taking in life. The show us who we are. (295)

i'm so excited!

I had a bowl of Bluebell Cookies and Cream Icecream, over a brownie, and I sat down to begin...

Vampirates: Demons of the Ocean!

dun dun dun..... (Imagine dramatic drumroll here)

I love how one of the review says, "Totally original." (Anthony Horowitz)

Umm, how much more original can you get then Pirates who are vampires?

I'm not that far in, in fact, I've only arrived on page 7, but I got so excited that I had to share with you the shanty this whole book seems to be based on. It's sung to twins (boy and girl) by their lighthouse keeper father.

I'll tell you a tale of Vampirates,
A tale as old as true.
Yea, I'll sing you a song of an ancient ship,
And its mighty fearsome crew.
Yea, I'll sing you a song of an ancient ship
That sails the oceans blue...
That haunts the oceans blue.

There are three more verses, but I wouldn't want to give any more of it away.

It was an impulse buy, after resisting purchase earlier, because it seemed a little, well, dumb. But, I gave in after many months, especially when I saw it was so inexpensive.

I'll let you know how it is!

new home away from home

The HFAC and the Law School were my homes away from home in Utah. I'd like to introduce to you my new home, the Music Building. There are no acronyms for the building: it's the Music Building, and that's okay with me. All the pictures are the outside. None are actually the outside of the music building. The brick buildings are various (unknown) buildings on campus. The statue is that of Minerva.






Here is the campus entrance to the music building. It's not the main entrance, but it was the way I first entered when I auditioned oh so not very long ago. The following pictures are of the grounds while crossing the bridge, and a fountain by the music building.

rain

I love rain - I really do. I was even smart enough to remember an umbrella for here in North Carolina, which has been necessary.

Two days ago, I thought I would bring my umbrella to school, but the weather widget said nothing about rain.

They were wrong.

As of now, it has been raining off and on, mostly on, for at least 24 hours. Wow. With no end in sight.

pronunciations

Utah has some strangely pronounced names of places, Hurricane, being probably the most famous, But there's also Scipio, Panguitch, and a slew of others.

I'm not going to tell you the correct way to say these yet, but here are a few names that threw me off when I first arrived in North Carolina. What do you think they should be?

Guilford

McIver

Also, I finished my torture sessions (i.e. placement exams that included written theory and history, dictation and music listening portions spread across two mornings) today. This is perhaps when I saw this headline:

ESPN.com - Mets' Wagner out indefinitely with more elbow pain

I may be excused for thinking that the Metropolitan Opera was not going to be playing Wagner....

wow

I shipped all, well, the books that I decided to bring, media mail, along with my sewing patterns before I left. I had my mail forwarded, then I placed it on hold, knowing the trip would take longer than the mail.

Today, six out of seven packages were delivered by the mailman (I can say that, he is a man) to my door. He was very kind - I offered to help, but he said no, because the packages were heavy. The seventh I guess lost its label and was returned home. Oh, and he called me this morning, asking about delivery. Unfortunately I had smoker voice so I was hard to understand.

I know the packages were heavy! I delivered them in the first place!

When I did took them to the Post Office originally, they did at least allow me the use of a bin to carry them in, and probably if I would've asked for help, it would have been provided.

The difference is that this guy went out of his way to help, even placing them inside the door so I wouldn't have to lug them in. Now I just have to slide them around on the carpet.

I did thank him - I do hope that he realizes it was sincere. Now I don't have to lug the boxes from the Post Office, to my car, etc. etc.

My only regret - I forgot to ask his name, to thank him personally.

made it

After a week of travels, I'm pooped. Below is a map of where I and Kate have been. Pictures will be forthcoming. (Read: when I find my card reader!)



The trip to Oregon/Washington was for a friend's wedding. Kate and I flew to Portland, and then drove to Seattle and back to Portland for the flight out. (She was married in Portland, with a reception in Seattle.) We arrived back in SLC Sunday morning, repacked, and headed out once again with a fully loaded CR-V.

Now comes the settling down, and studying for tests next week. Oh, and reed making in high humidity! sigh.

backpacking: part 2

Here is the final installment of the Amethyst Lake adventure.


Horrible self-portrait. This is what the cold lake water did to it, though, very curly.


The puppy who we tired out.


Blue-green lake we camped by.


Down hill action shot.


Crossing one of the many boggy areas. From left to right, you see Eric, Steph, Jim, Mel and pup-pup in there somewhere. This was the typical line-up until I decided I was not using the great outdoors one more time as a necessary. A thought that I had never thought would cross my mind did: An outhouse is a luxury!


Where the trail paralleled a river for a while on the descent.


Leaving/Entering the Wilderness area. In this instance: leaving.


Meadow pictures





The aftermath. I didn't even try to count all the mosquito bites!

backpacking: part 1

I got to go backpacking for the first time in eleven years with friends Melanie and Stephanie and their husbands. Oh, and Sunny! the border collie pup.

We went to Amethyst Lake, in the High Uintas. The husbands picked the route. They did warn us that the second half raised in elevation quite a bit in a short distance, but we paid them no heed.

I have a very hard time going up hill. I tried to not complain. I like to think that I didn't too much.... However, when we came to a lake that wasn't Amethyst, but was nice, I decided that I was going no further. Yet, this turned out to be a good thing, because we found a great campsite that was out of the way, and some ready-made rock furniture that the llama bearing ranger told us we needed to disassemble upon departure.


Amethyst Lake



Mel at the Lake
She and Stephanie got in their skivvies and went for a short swim. I sat and took pictures of said swim. I did dunk my head into the water, but that was cold enough for me. Notice the snow in the first picture!


Trees






The scenery was glorious! It was very difficult in choosing which angles to take the pictures at, for no angle did anything justice.

septic success!

Here is a lot closer to the end. A stub was found a few feet into the road. I can't remember when all was officially done. Now all we have is an awesome rock filled pile of dirt! Every child's dream. But in this dream, a creek used to run through the property so it is littered with large rocks.

A huge public thanks to Matthew. He dealt with the drama of it all. And Sarah who finished the deal. And Del the digger guy. It would not have happened without them!

septic success... almost

In the almost never ending drama of becoming a sewered house, here are some pictures that I took during the process.











These pictures are from the early days of the process. Before we found out our stub didn't exist within the property, well, one did, but it was out in the street.

quotations

Well, my adventure has begun. For my fearless readers, I will someday post pictures from my summer adventures. But, my week journey that will encompass 12 states. For entertainment purposes, I am dragging along my friend Kate.

A fun introduction to our adventure:

When finding out that a road changed names upon crossing an intersection:

"Bastards."

This will be a fun journey!


Her side:
In my defense we had gone around three times and half the circle is one name, and the other half is another name. You think you're going somewhere, but you're really not. And, our map didn't have those street names anyway.

Kate is hungry.

I shall leave you now.

a clarification

Oh no! In response to thoughts: I didn't mean to come across as saying that amateurs were a hindrance, well, I guess I did, but that was before I had the change of heart, and decided to learn from them.

What I forgot to clarify, is that those who have chosen this route professionally need to take the enthusiasm of those who have chosen to excel in other fields, but still choose to devote much of their time and energies to a secondary (or even a third) area.

That was clear as mud.

For example, my chosen field is that of music. My secondary area would be floral design. The majority of my time and talents is devoted to progressing in the field of music. It is quite satisfying, creatively, but sometimes because it is the way I hope to support myself, there are times it looses a bit of the magical quality that others find in music.

To feed the creative desire, I am an amateur florist. I've never really made money with it, only the expenses were covered. But I didn't mind. I did it completely for fun. I know I'm not trained to do it, so I would feel a bit awkward if I ever received more than expenses. Someday that may change, after more training, but for now it is the way that I create out of pure love and enjoyment.

What I wanted to get across, and didn't (that's the problem with writing while tired) is that a worthy goal should be to take that enthusiasm of creating out of pure love and enjoyment, found easiest in the amateur stage, and apply that love to the practice and knowledge found at the professional level.

a request for parenting from parents

I bought Breaking Dawn at Costco. For $12.50. I am glad I did not spend more on it. It wasn't bad, but, well, it left a funny taste in the mouth. I don't know what I was hoping for - perhaps less focus on the 'intimate relations' of our friends Bella and Edward. I

I finished all 754 pages in about 12 hours, including a few, well, about four hours sleep, so a total of eight hours. I feel the same way I felt after watching the Dark Knight: I do not regret seeing the movie, but it wasn't good for the soul.

I've been reading a bit of the definitions of Romance novels, and the subgenres, and strongly feel that with the usual problems of defining and categorizing things, it firmly belongs within this realm. Okay, I'll let it be in the subgenre of Paranormal Romance. I hope you noticed if you went to the Wikipedia article, that in the url there is the term Bodice Ripper. This is quite literal in this case. (Also, I don't know how I feel of Jane Austen being included, and lauded at one of the first Romance writers. hmm....)

That being said, I know millions of fans across the globe will love every scintillating moment, wishing that they were Bella (or Edward for the male fans). And that is where true problem with the book begins: it is being marketed as a Young Adult book. That, it is not. Parents, I know you won't be able to stop your young girls from reading the book, but please read it yourself so that you know what it contains, and what they have read. Please.

thoughts

So, in commenting on a friends post, I realized that the entry was becoming much too long and complicated. So, I decided to post the thoughts here instead.

Note: though I'm commenting specifically about music, I think that the defining of amateur and professional applies to all fields.


So, I just had my (possibly) last broadcast with the Orchestra at Temple Square. And, though not to the same degree, similar. The organization is weird mix of professional and amateur, very hard to explain.

For those who don't read the post, from what I understand, the basic difference between amateurs and professionals is that amateurs

create music for the pure love and enjoyment of the experience. [A] musician professionally trained in the Euro-classical tradition, where music is made to be performed and in cases to earn money, status, and/or recognition.

The OTS is comprised of musicians from all different types: free-lancer, college/university Professor, Secondary Ed teachers, retired folks, etc. This combination of grouping, all volunteer, creates an interesting dynamic. I was almost bitter for the first bit of my stint - why weren't people taking these more seriously, and well, how could we take it more seriously! This is not serious.

Then, my heart softened. I told myself I was being immature and conceited, and lo and behold, I began to learn things. (I cannot go back to amateur status [on the oboe] at this point in my life for better or for worse. I do have some hope to re-obtain that status or at least the perks, eventually, because many of the members of the orchestra are retired professionals.)

I decided that I would observe people around me. I would learn from them, and their experience even if their level of everyone's playing wasn't what I was used to. Though the music may not be technically challenging regarding fingers, there is a certain emotional challenge. And the stress of being on very public display, and how that was handled. The list could go on and on. Suffice it to say, I learned lessons that I could apply to my chosen path.

After that, things became much more enjoyable, less tedious. And, miracle of miracles, I became less critical.

It is a hard balance to achieve, that level of professionalism that is demanded of musicians(I blame recordings!) yet still to enjoy yourself because that is the way to play musically - by giving something of yourself. And if that self is bored, and tired of playing this piece, it actually doesn't come across to the audience. These bored individuals have such a true ability, that it is amazing, and lovely, and forgettable. As a good friend of mine teaches, if Finale can do it, we should be doing something more.

As I similarly intoned to my Sight-Singing students, We are musicians, not machines. There are some pretty powerful machines out there that serve a marvelous purpose. They have not, though, made the human element completely obsolete. So, let us glory in our human-ness. Though we may not be an amateur, we can learn from them, and not be afraid to show a bit of ourselves, and share what drew us to music in the first place.

who are you?

Note to those who were at the non-canyon but still goodness gathering: this was written a day or so before, but I was trying to space the posts out. That's all.

SallySue. Where did this name come from?

Legend has it, when my mum was pregnant with my older brother, without knowing the gender of their baby, (it) was referred to as Frank. Frank was born in Provo, UT, and the name changed.

With their second child, (it) was called SallySue. This name stuck so well that the older brother balked at the new adorable cute baby (this is why I have limited baby pictures) being called anything but. There was also a time when Molly was considered. Wiser heads (the parents) prevailed, and the youngest daughter was called Heidi. Thus the name of this bloggie.

What is in a name? As Juliet says:

'Tis but thy name that is my enemy;
Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
What's in a name? that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet;
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,
And for that name which is no part of thee
Take all myself.

Even she can't really seem to decide if Romeo would be different if he had some other name.

Oft times I've pondered, perhaps oft is the wrong word. I have thought before how life would have been different if I had been called Molly. I would think of the American Girl with her glasses and sweater. Would I have been a different person? Would people have treated me differently? If I were to visit Germany or Austria, would people laugh at me having a child's name?

I've enjoyed this name: it's not too odd, yet distinct. And, I don't often have to spell it out. (Though I have to more often now with the trend of unique/creative spellings.) When I was younger, I loved the idea of it signifying Battle Maiden, at least in the Big Book of Baby names. Today, that there is a whole area of Austria called Heidiland - that makes me smile. It has helped that I have short curly hair, which is reminiscent of the Shirley Temple version of the film....

I digress.

What's in a name? Why are you named what you are? Is it a family name?

Sometimes I wish I had a family name, but we have Swiss-German ancestry so it is at least from the same area.

What if you were given a different name? Would you have acted differently? Do you think you would have been different in some way? More intro or extroverted? Or are these the ramblings of an insomniac? Names have absolutely no impact. But I doubt this extreme to be true, for why else would it matter that they were now called Sarah or Abraham. Or John. Or Christ, being called Jesus.

In the Book of Mormon, Helaman directly tells his sons Nephi and Lehi that he named them after their forefathers, that they might always have in remembrance their good works.

There are some names that have positive and some negative connotations. I remember the first time I met a fellow student with the name of Jesus! It was made a bit less awkward for me because of the spanish pronunciation. Judas? Some life experiences have shown me some names that I shall never name my child.

What is all the fuss about? On Memorial Day, I went with cousins to visit Sara's grave. While there, I found a stone with the name Phyllis Ray Allen. Very similar to Phyllis Rae Miller Allen, my grandmother who recently passed away.

There were no flowers on her grave. I wished I had had flowers to put on her grave. Why? Because she had the name of my grandma who I love. Without it, I would have made an effort to not step on the stone, perhaps even clean off the grass clippings. But the connection would have been gone.