woo hoo!

Well, I walked over two months ago, but I 1) wanted to wait until I turned in my last paper, and 2) seem to have placed my little camera in a safe place, so you're just now getting my official grad-e-ation pics. These are courtesy of Auntie Marki.







I'm not gonna lie - I love that Music degrees result in pink graduation hoods!

an official announcement

My new homepage.

an answer

When I tell people that I study music, I get various reactions. Most seem as if they want to pat me on the head, and say, "Oh honey, that's so sweet!" I usually just smile, and, well, smile. And try not to bare my teeth.

But, occasionally there are people who really do get it.

I'd like to post part of an interview by one of my favorite authors of her interview with another author:

Why do you write?

Sometimes I wonder that myself--especially when the writing part isn't going well. Like today, for instance! But generally speaking I write because writing makes me feel more alive, more connected to the world. When I'm writing I pay more attention to what's happening around me--and when that happens I am struck over and over again I am by the awful beauty of life.

Amen!

If it isn't writing, perhaps it is music. Or reading. Grammar. (I'm sure there are some out there!)

For all of us to survive, we must find something in this world that makes us "feel more alive, more connected to the world." For truly, this life is too short to be spent miserably, trudging along. There is a fine balance to act out, but, "...if their works were good in this life, and the desires of their heart were good, that they should also, at the last day, be restored unto that which is good. And if their works are evil they shall be restored unto them for evil." (Alma 41:3-4) We don't magically know what will create these feelings of beauty in our lives when we die. Today is the day.

This idealistic mood of mine may be caused by falling asleep to Jeremy Irons intone The Alchemist or from the biography of C.S. Lewis that I'm reading (more on this later) but I very strongly believe that we truly are happiest when we are 'searching for our personal treasure,' or 'Joy' or Sehnsucht When we are realizing our divine potential. For we are Pilgrims, nay, Strangers here on this Earth. We are here for but a short time, to learn and to grow, and to be happy - the true and lasting happiness.

Last random thought. Sorry, still a bit philosophical. Just blame it on the books I've been reading lately.

Not too long ago I was reading and realized in the earlier quoted chapter, the "Wickedness never was happiness" has another side to it. You can only be one, or the other. If we are unhappy, there is something that is off: it does not have to be anything major. Ofttimes it is not. Most often, it is because we are being cruel to ourselves, or selling ourselves short. And please don't misinterpret or use the cheap definition of happiness. To find out what I mean, look here and you will find some interesting similarities in the causes of happiness.

I always knew the answers, or what the teacher wanted to hear, in my younger years. In Sunday School, I soon grew tired of knowing the correct answer and began answering every question with the answer of Happy. It was a bit of a joke at the time, but now, I don't think I was too far off.

aaa! (not aah, but almost aack!)

Well, I spoke Spanish on the phone today. I haven't done that for, well, probably since the good ol' days in Florida. Thankfully the speaker's accent was very clear, and he didn't mind my use of Spanglish. phew.

I honestly haven't used Spanish much since Florida; I can't even use the excuse of not having anyone to talk to. I do occasionally talk in my bad Cuban accent just to weird people out, though. That's always fun, because even people who know Spanish don't always recognize which language I am speaking. Or, it is to recreate a favorite time passer of speaking Spanish with a Southern accent: oh the things one does!

I used to have no fear, nor embarrassment (two similar, yet different emotions) in speaking a different language. Most times it was pure joy to see the confusion on people's faces that I, definitely of no hispanic origin, was able to speak somewhat understandably in their own tongue.

Perhaps because the need is gone, the ever ready to creep in fear and embarrassment attacked. Maybe I felt that if I continued to use the spanish, I would never really transition back into being a normal human being (sin plaquita) again. (Side note: I looked up 'plaque' in the bilingual dictionary, and was worried for a brief moment that I had been saying blood platelet for a year and a half! Why didn't anyone tell me.... But, I wasn't. phew.) We've all been there: sitting there with the returned missionary, trying not to get annoyed when they get together in masses, hablando their mission language - for those who are not included in the exchange, it can become a tiny bit tiresome; I never fully understood why that happened. I can now, but for the benefit to those on the outside, I tried to limit my flirtations with my latin lover.

I even waited till I was a graduate student to take a class. This, by the way, was a bad idea. The class was good, but it was my first semester in graduate school and I took it concurrently with a baroque music class. Spanish grammar, and baroque music - one or both are bound to suffer, and, in this instance, well, they both suffered.

I really need to find a happy balance. I truly do love the language of my ancestors (I am 1/8 Mexican you know!) and wouldn't be very happy to loose the little fluency that I acquired, but for some reason I don't think that random people in Macey's truly are impressed by you wanting to talk to them 'because we speak the same language.' Seriously.

Even to this day, when I need to pray with real intent I tend to revert to Spanish. Even with my limited vocabulary, it is, well, easier. I still have to remind myself that locations of scriptures on the page are different in the different translations.

I know I am not alone in this dilemma. And I know this is not a problem limited to returned missionaries - I happened to stumble upon the problem of bilingualism through preaching the gospel. Let me rephrase, the problem is not being bilingual. The problem is, how to live in the world, but not of the world. How do I improve upon my skills, without being obnoxious. I decided I should just move to Spain. Problem solved. But in the meantime, any suggestions? I know many of you are successful bilingual-ites and would love to for you to share your pearls of wisdom.

definition: 2

Merge: hurry up and pass as many cars as possible before the lane ends.