newsy stuffs

Just one more week of this 29 post (hah) in 29 days. Whose idea was this anyway?!?

As you have seen, it hasn't quite equalled a post a day. Mainly because the majority of the missed posts would have been something like tonight's.

Life is good. Busy and good. I currently have two jobs [Asministrative assistant at University; oboe teacher at college], and three callings, or jobs at church, basically, only without monetary renumeration. Thankfully, it's not quite as busy as when I had six jobs, and was finishing my Masters. Or when I was working 30-40 hours while in my second year of my doctorate. At least I tell myself that.

However, I have not been using the little downtime I have had to beat effect. I still must finish my proposal. So I can graduate. No big deal.

And I am woefully behind in book reading! Theoretically I should have six books done on my list by the end of the month. And there are only two. Perhaps I should try listening to a book other than Les Mis on my hour + commute to the college. That book just takes way too much concentration, especially as I am about to begin the portion of the book I have never read before. I have started Tolkien's short story book, and am still slogging through the 'smile' book. So there is hope.

Lastly, this week I have a community school class. It's a bit embarrassing, but I'm still excited. It is a voice-over class. I'll let you know how it goes. The only downside, is it's the same evening as a friend's recital. But at least I can go to the dress rehearsal.

And for real lastly I will finally be meeting the newest first-cousin-once removed, in the family. In the past month or so, there have been four baby boys born in my family. Two in my dad's family: Hunter and Sterling; and two on my mom's: Bowen and Jack. Though Jack's proper name is Jack Winton Marya B. Well, at least according to my mum. I just call him Jack-jack. I need to make sure I get a good start at being the favorite auntie! He got a wee stuffed animal (Thumper) and big brother will be getting a Peter Pan doll. See? Aren't I off to a great start?

Well, as always, you now know more than you ever wanted to. Lucky you.

Till next time.

I know you are all on pins and needles waiting for the resolution of my story from the last post. Yep.

Well, you'll have to wait for a bit longer. I haven't quite figured out how to add pics using my super special phone.

Until then.

In parting, I just want to say, as much as I enjoy work, the best part of the day was coming home and cooking. And watching the cat bat around a chunk of onion that fell to the floor.

There's something so soothing about a fresh cooked meal.

remember?

You know, that one time when your hair posed a threat to our nation's security?

Oh, you don't remember? Well, tomorrow I will enlighten you. Pictures too!

mmm...fertilizer.

I was born in Orem, Utah but as the story goes, ten days later I was on a flight headed to Arizona where I would spend the first fourteen years of my life. I loved growing up in a house that my great-grandparents had built.

The elementary school I attended was built on land previously owned by my (great) grandpa Miller. I remember naively thinking, I will never move.

As fate would have it, my mum sat me down and said we were moving to Utah so she could go to law school. Strangely, my first concern was whether we were taking the pup pups with us. Matthew understandably wasn't quite as calm about the prospect, 'specially as he was about to start his senior year of high school.

We have now had our house in Utah now for fifteen years, though I have not lived there for that entire time. Two years in Provo. Just over a year in Florida - and in Florida I lived in three cities. And three years in Greensboro - with three residences there, too.

When playing with the Old Time Ensemble, we usually introduced ourselves to the audience. The introduction would consist of one's name, major area of study, and from whence you hailed. Generally, I would cop out and say, I'm from the West. (No, that is NOT the Ohio, thankyouverymuch!) Once I joked with a friend I should say, I'm a resident of NC for tuition purposes. But I chickened out. This simple exercise brought a large question to the fore: where the heck AM I from?

Today, as I've visited with relatives, it has made me ponder the question again. One uncle began talking about family and roots. Which made me think, well, not all roots are the same.

Take the cactus. After all, we are in Arizona right now. We learn that the cactus has very shallow roots, that are near the surface so as to take advantage of even the slightest bit of rainfall.

Then there is the awful no good horrible Oregon grape. Where, even if you dump half a thing of poison on its roots, it still comes back to taunt you. Or the bulbs, that geow every year, and can be divided and spread out. Or the tap roots of those naughty dandelions. Or, or, or.

Though I still struggle with an honest answer of, where is my hometown, I do take comfort that perhaps it's not where I from, but that I do put down roots were I am. Food for thought, that is.

happy birthday!

I am in Arizona.

I got to see my Lizzy friend for not nearly long enough, and then met up with family.

It is my grandpa's 79th birthday. We are 50 years apart, almost to the day. I was lucky enough to be his neighbor for fourteen years. I consider myself the favorite grandchild. :)

For his birthday, we went to a celebration for Arizona's 100th birthday. Granted, Arizona does not turn 100 till the 14 Feb, but still.

The celebration was a concert by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, which was pretty cool. Favorite part: Sandra Day O'Connor made an appearance as guest conductor. Do they even teach about her in school anymore? I remember thinking it was so cool that I was from the place she was from. Even though she has grown older, and perhaps a bit frail, she in many ways has not changed much over the years; I still recognized her from across the way, and got really excited.

I guess you could say, as much as I had a hero growing up, she was one of them. I didn't realize it, though, until tonight when I got super excited to see her!

In short, today was a good day of celebrating.

who...me??

Do you have those things in life, perhaps a little checklist, that says, when I do these things, I will be a grown-up?

You know, like have a job with health insurance. Or a Retirement plan.
Have babies. Find my truelove.
Get a dog with a house and a picket fence.

Well, I haven't managed to check off many of those examples. But, today I managed to donate blood! I'm pretty sure I have O- so this is good, too.

Last time I tried, was over ten years ago. I answered all the , and was strapped in the chair, and they could not find my vein. Not only was it small, but rolly too. I habe not been back since.

But in the intervening years, I've had tb tests and even an iv so I figured it was time to try again.

No luck on the left side, but the vein whisperer was called in and had luck on my right arm.

I can now check one thing off my 'I'm a grown-up when' list. Hoorah for me!



[Editor's note: Apparently my blood can go to everyone, but I can only revceive blood from the O family. Umm, that's not fair!]

dun dun dunnnn

Please forgive me if I've told you this story before.


My friends and I would often play ultimate frisbee in the city park. The games were fun, but I always preferred what I dubbed, 'the lazy bum circle'. You know, the post game chat?

Anyhoo, sometimes they would go till dark.

One night, we chatted till dark, which normally wasn't a problem, but this time I had walked to the park. It really was not far away, but the gentlemen being gentlemen, several offered a ride, but I refused, as no one was going that way.

So I started off home, humming Eponine's 'On My Own'. Seriously.

As I was walking down 600 E, I realized there was a car driving really slowly, behind me on the road. No, it was not a car. It was a van. An old dodge van. And the sliding door was open.

Don't Panic, I told myself.

It was hard, but my Self listened.

That is, until I noticed the van stopped when I stopped.

And then, it started when I started again.

About the time the van was going to overtake me, I was bear a yard that had a knee high chain-link fence, with rose bushes behind. I thought, well, that's going to hurt.

Just as I was about to leap the fence, and the car was overtaking me... I realized it was a newspaper delivery person.

This is a true story.

The end.

and now for something completely different

I love stories. My preferred method of story consumption is either print, or aural. Movies are ok, but not my top.

One thing about stories, is I can get really caught up! Case and point: I was required to read Fellowship of the Ring for my freshman college English class. I had avoided it until then, as my brother liked it. And I'd be derned if I liked what he liked!!

But, to my horror, I loved it! Tom Bombadil, and all.

Needless to say, by Thanksgiving, I was finishing the appendices in Return of the King. Hobbitses were regular guests in my dreams. I even began the Silmarillion.

[Reader's start moving their mouse, begin to close window on this crazy woman....]

Perhaps that was an extreme example, but you get the idea.

As I was driving to work today, I thought, wouldn't it be kinda neat, to continue a story line, from one of your favorite books? Not an important line, mind you. So none of this, rewriting an entire novel from some other main character's point of view. I'm talking, more along the lines of some minor character, that plays a part of minor importance. In fact, they weren't even really necessary. Think more, The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner and less Midnight Sun. (Give me some credit: I had to verify the names at least....)

What would I write about? I would do a serial about the Distressed Gentlewomen in Ye Cosy Nooke, from PG Wodehouse's, A Damsel in Distress.

What or better yet, who would you right about?

the miserable

[Editor's note: This was my post from yesterday, started right before midnight. I was having problems keeping the post from being too heavy handed. It was not my intent to be all 'change the world, feed the poor' etc. Not that that is a bad thing! I just am not so good at that myself, and I didn't want it to appear as if I was. I've left the post unfinished, as my thoughts are, too, still unfinished. I have a nagging suspicion that the reading of Les Mis shall inspire more heavy handed ponderings, though. You have been warned!]

Do you ever not read on in a book, because you have a pretty good idea what is going to happen? And, perhaps, if you don't carry on with the story, it never happened?

Jean Valjean just stole from the little boy; Fantine is about to believe she must do whatever her 'lover' says.

GAH.

Don't they know that their one choice will badly effect the rest if their lives?

I was chatting about the book today, and mention Victor Hugo's introduction:
I badly paraphrased it, saying, as long as there is inequality, books like[Les Miserables] must exist. Hugo puts it much more eloquently.

So long as there shall exist, by reason of law and custom, a social condemnation which, in the midst of civilization, artificially creates a hell on earth, and complicates with human fatality a destiny that is divine; so long as the three problems of the century - the degredation of man by the exploitation of his labor, the ruin of woman by starvation, and the atrophy of childhood by physical and spiritual night - are not solved; so long as, in certain regions, social asphyxia shall be possible; in other words, and from a still broader point of view, so long as ignorance and misery remain on the earth, there should be need for books such as this. Victor Hugo; Hauteville House, 1862

Perhaps someday Les Miserables will be not be needed. At least as nothing more than a reminder of what used to be. In this someday, we will be judged for the entirety of our self, instead small individual moments of our lives. That others will give us time to change, and grow. To accept the consequences of our actions

, without being defined by our actions.

Such change as Hugo demands, seems quite daunting.

I have this theory. If everyone were to pray for world peace, no one would know if their prayer was answered. We are not aware of the neighbors across the world that have decided to stop quarreling! We never see the results of our actions. And we give up.

Instead, we should look at the Bishop of Digne. Through the simple act of calling the man Valjean, Monsiuer, Valjean began to believe he was more than his yellow passport.

'Monsieur Curé,' said the man, 'you are truly good. You don't despise me. You take me into your house. You light your candles for me, and I haven't hidden from you where I come from, and bow miserable I am.' (76)

[insert evil laughter]

When I was a sophomore in college, I took one of my favoritest classes ever. (Do note the use of the qualifier 'one'. I do have lots of favoritest classes. You could _almost_ say all but chemistry class fall into that category. But I digress.)

This class was called 'Appreciation of Nature'. It met once a week for several hours late Mondau afternoons. The lecture topics varied between bats to ants to fish to
hibernating bears. Our main assignment was to spot at least 75 different birds and record them.

I was skeptical this could happen, especially as it was winter. In Utah! Didn't all birds fly south for the winter? But before we were left to our own devices, we all went on a bird watching field trip. Egrets. Redwinged blackbirds. Finches. Sparrows! My only problem was I was using old opera glasses which come to find out were not quit powerful enough to see the detail described.

I remember being at the Logan temple parking lot, and seeing a Cedar waxwing in a the trees. The colors on the wing really do like drops of wax!

Later, on my mission in Florida, as my companion and I rode the bus, I happened to look out the window, and in the ditch I saw a pair of roseated spoonbills! That was cool. Really cool.

I even joined the Piedmont Bird club in NC. Part to beef up my instate tuition application, but mostly because I find birds fascinating. The one and only club meeting I was able to attend was a demonstration of the melodic nature of bird sings. I found it absolutely fascinating to witness how music and birds collided.

All this is to explain why I have the Audobon app on my super smart phone. I don't use it quite as much as I'd like, so last night while trying unsuccessfully to sleep, I started playing with it. A feature of the app is the inclusion of many examples of bird songs. I looked up cedar waxwing, and played it.

Max the Cat, who had been sleeping unawares, quickly perked up his head and looked directly at me and the phone, as the source of this noise. I may or may not have waited till he was asleep again to play more bird songs. hee hee.

Just now I was playing the song of a wren and he stalked up to me, nosing at the phone, hoping for a wee wren to pounce on. Alas. He has to content himself with the birdies out the window. Just now a sparrow came to the window well, probably just to taunt the kitty. Well, at least that's what I'd be doing if I were a sparrow. I probably wouldn't live long, either.

hmm...lame much?

I'm not quite sure what is going to make up today's post.

Today consisted of church - which overall was fine - napping and paying bills. I know. My life is SO thrilling. Be jealous.

Max at least thinks so. He is currently trying to burrow under a blankie. He likes to hide out in 'caves.' The problem is, I straightened up the front room, which consisted of folding the blankie back up and placing it over the arm of the couch. So only the top portion of the Cat is covered. He seems to be happy about that.

Ya, well let's hope that tomorrow turns out a better post.

success! (mostly)

Yesterday I receive a phone call from work at the University when I am an hour south teaching at the College. The caller was, well, calling on behalf of a visitor who was looking for a book that I currently have checked out. Apparently he needed one article in the book in preparation for his doctoral something or other. Comprehensives, prelims, what have you.

I explained that I was in College town, and he started to say, oh that's no problem then. I informed him I was about to head home to the University area and that I could try to get this chapter to him. I obtained the necessary contact info, verified the chapter info and headed home.

Upon arriving home, my short afternoon nap turned into a prolonged prebedtimenap. No real progress was made except that I did at least make visual confirmation in finding said book, and the article within.

Then I went to bed.

I woke up late sort of under the weather. Nothing terribly serious, but just enough to NOT want to head up to school to make a scan. But I had told this poor fellow I would. Dilemma!

I turned to my trust all powerful phone and found a document scanner. I took pictures of 25 pages which were fairly successfully transformed into readable pdfs. Neat! Success! Now just to pass this document on.

Two hours later, and after several exchanges of, there is only text in the email, separating the 25 pages into chunks of 13/12 pages each, and sending not at actual size, the required article is now in the digital hands of the intended.

It's pretty amazing I was able to lounge in bed taking pictures of pages, and have them transported to the fellow in need. We'll just forget the fact that I could've been up and back probably two times to school by the time the email was actually, successfully received. Consolation prize: I got to wear a much more relaxed dress code at home. :)

cat approved

As many of you know, I have a cat. His name is Max. Once upon a time he was featured in a regular Friday post called Find the Kitty. He achieved minor celebrity status, but has since faded from the public's conscious. It is my attempt to change that once again. At some point said feature will be restarted - after all, I have quite a number of pictures of Max the Cat on my phone alone. I am That Cool.

Along with being a Cat Lady, I also have several instruments of my own, some borrowed, and some are a part of the house in which I live. These various instruments have varying levels of approval from the Cat.

Oboe/EH: Highest level of cat Non-approval. I only need to start opening the case, and The Cat zooms far far away.

Mandolin/Guitar: If cat is already in the room at the time, he will tolerate a few strums. Maybe even a melody or two. But if there is any forward movement in his directions, off he goes. However, the guitar or mandolin does not require an escape to the basement. He is content with only being in the kitchen if I practice in the living room.

Suling/Penny Whistle: A suling is a recorder type instrument that is played in the gamelan. It is not very loud. Neither is the penny whistle. These are probably the most cat approved instruments I play. The approval level is a high as only glaring at me from across the room. I must only refrain from glaring back, or looking ad if I am going to head his direction while playing.

Piano: Previously at the same approval as oboe/eh, this instrument's cat approval has actually raised. No longer does Max zoom down to the basement, he now only requires a removal to the kitchen. Sometimes he will be found sulking on the stairs.

Even as I write this, the Cat is perched on a chair in the living room. My beautifully adjusted oboe sits next to me in my case ready to be practiced.

Well, he waited to move until I had the complete instrument out at least...progress!

roles?

For part of my job, I put together the 'swag' that is given out at the conferences that the University attends. This weekend there are two conferences going on so I had twice as much scthuff to put together.

As I was gathering the supplies I kept thinking, 'Oh I hope it's enough of this,' or, 'oh this is probably too much,' etc etc. And counting everything before so upon return I have a mich better idea for future amounts.

When I sent off the boxes to the respective representatives, I realized that I sort of felt like sending my children off with their lunches, hoping everything went well. It's not like these people were grown men or anything.

I realized how silly that was, laughed at myself, then began another task for the day.

happy birfday

Today is my birthday. At least for twenty more minutes.

It was a good day. I didn't tell a soul at work. It was kinda fun to have a secret all day. The only bad thing about keeping a secret is that they sometimes feel bad when they find out later. But they shouldn't! It's not like I broadcast the news or anything.

I chatted with the padres before work, received many happy greetings from friends (thanks!), a scoop of icecream from another (thanks!!) and din din with an aunt and uncle and their family.

Once home I got a package containing Downton Abbey(!) and a book I preordered that just happened to have the release date of today. Oh and my oboe came back from the hospital. Yay! I haven't played it yet as work was super busy, but tomorrow. Apparently it was leaking quite badly. Even at the joints because the wood had really dried out, etc. Poor little oboe misses NC.

As today is my 29th birthday (I am SO old now) and there are actually 29 days in the month of February, I'm going to attempt to post everyday this month. As always, I promise no brilliance. Nor do I even have any sort of theme to these posts. Read at your own risk. :)

For now, I bid you adieu. My bed doth beckon me.