Monday, December 29, 2008

The Worth of a Soul

And this is infinitely more wonderful than anything I posted in the last one (possibly ever). Look at this! It's Liz Lemon Swindle's "The Worth of a Soul." Love love LOVE it!

Topsy-Turvy Jo

I was feeling extremely nasty and gross yesterday, which ended with me sleeping for nearly 20 hours. It was simultaneously awful and blissful. My friend Lauren called during the time I was conscious (about a four hour period from ten to one) and asked if I wanted to come sledding today.

Sledding, I thought. Huh. Sledding...sledddddd.....sledding...

"Okay," I told her, with not a thought as to what the word "sledding" really incorporated. Snow. Wet snow. Speeding down a hill at breakneck speeds. Cold. Wet.

The first thing I said to my mum when I got up this morning was, "Hey, I'm going sledding with Lauren."

She kind of gave me a weird look, seeing as she came into my room last night when I was barely coherent and knew just how sick I was. But she's learned not to argue with me about things like that. And in my defense, I was feeling better.

So in typical topsy-turvy Jo form, I journeyed out into the cold wearing thermals, jeans, a coat, and a matching hat/glove/scarf set. (Sometimes I'm astounded at my own stupidity.)

It was really fun; I went off this killer jump twice and got some major air, but soundly knocked my head the second time around; flew screaming down the hill with Lauren; had a dangerous snowball fight; tackled a kid who weighs half as much as me and still lost; and got soundly wet.

Now my cough is twice as bad as it was last night, I have (had; Ibuprofen is better than a boyfriend) a headache the size of Toronto, and I feel all-around gross.

And do you want to know what the funniest/sickest part is? I'd do it again. Yeah, my friends are that cool.

Saturday, December 27, 2008

Modern Jo + Boredom + Saturday Night = The iPod Shuffle Game

So, on account of me being bored out of my everloving mind, and my friends having dropped off the face of the earth, I decided to play the iPod shuffle game. I got the questions from Cindy's blog and the songs come from my own little Sansa music player. Ready, go.

1. If someone says "Is that okay?" you say:
Patti-Class (Forbidden Broadway)

2. How would you describe yourself?
Joy in the Journey (Day of Celebration) HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

3. What do you look for in a guy?
Gliding (Ragtime)

4. How do you feel today?
We Dance (Once on this Island) Not really; not dance-y. Just jittery.

5. What is your life's purpose?
What is this Feeling? (Wicked) To hate people, apparently.

6. What is your motto?
Prolouge: Ragtime (Ragtime)

7. What do your friends think of you?
Cinderella at the Grave (Into the Woods)

8. What do your parents think of you?
The House Upon the Hill (The Secret Garden) I must be surly like Mary Lennox.

9. What do you think about often?
An Operatic Tragedy (Little Women) This one actually works! I constantly have stories and narrations in my head.

10. What do you think of your best friend?
Little Voice (Hilary Duff)

11. What do you think of the person you like?
So Yesterday (Hilary Duff) Hey! This one works, too! I don't like anyone right now, and the person I used to like is definitely so yesterday.

12. What is your life's story?
Joseph's Dream (Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat)

13. What do you want to do when you grow up?
For Good (Wicked)

14. What do you think when you see the person you like?
Nothing Like the City (Ragtime)

15. What will you dance to at your wedding?
Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (Mamma Mia) Yes ma'am; ABBA is the pants.

16. What is your hobby/interest?
The Voice Across the Moors (Jane Eyre) Being either a jerkwad minister or a slightly clairvoyant leading lady. Sounds healthy fo sho.

17. What is your biggest fear?
One Small Girl (Once on this Island) Midgets?

18. What is your biggest secret?
Take a Chance on Me (Little Women) I have a secret crush on Teddy!

19. What do you think of your friends?
The Cheat is Not Dead (Strong Bad Sings) This is the best song ever. Listen:

20. What song will they play at your funeral?
Do-Re-Mi (The Sound of Music) I sure hope not.

That was less amusing than I hoped. Maybe if I didn't have so many musicals on my Sansa... I can't even tell you how many finales and prologues and entr'actes I've got floating around on that thing.

I think I'm gonna go make emo/gothic/random Miis on the family Wii. Have fun with life, readers.

Thursday, December 25, 2008

Merry Christmas to every one of dang ya'll!

Merry Christmas!

Yeah, like you're really gonna read anything past that. But in case you are, I didn't get a phone. Phooey. And no, Brandon and Mandi, the cutesy little "smart phone" you got me does not count. I recall someone did that to Matt last year and I thought it was SOOOOO funny. It wasn't so funny when I first opened it (because by the time I opened it, it had become abundantly clear that I wouldn't be getting a real phone), but now it's amusing.

Mostly it's funny now because it makes noise when I press the buttons, so I've been following my parents around all day, pressing the buttons constantly, and making them wish I had a silent phone.

I really ought to take a lead from Micah, though. He really wanted a Nintendo DS. Although he didn't get it, he was still enthusiastic about all his other presents. When he opened his first present (a stuffed puppy), he said,

"Oh. It's not a DS, but I still really like it. Feel how soft it is!"

And don't get me wrong; I promise I'm not one of those spoiled brats who throws a fit and cries when they don't get what they want. I sulked for a little bit and let my nasty Hyde side out for a few well-chosen sarcastic comments, but I'm pretty much over it by now.

Plus, I'm going out to the T-Mobile store first thing tomorrow morning to buy a phone for myself. So :P, Santa. I'll get a Razr for $20 and get on Brooke and Eric's plan for like $10 a month.

Sunday, December 21, 2008

It's beginning to look a lot like sick-mas...

Ick. Not only is Christmas in four days and I'm not even close to done with my Christmas shopping, I currently feel like crawling in my bed and sleeping until I'm 100% better. I'm super cold, my chest is pressurized, my head is all achy, and I, in general, feel gross. I took Ibuprofen and Sudafed, but it's only worked a little bit. No bueno.

So I haven't felt like writing anything creatively for a while, but I wrote this snapshot-thing for my dad and my seminary teacher for Christmas, and I kind of like it. (Yeah, it's safe here; my dad never reads my blog and I already gave it to my seminary teacher.) Everyone always focuses on Mary and the Wise Men and the shepherds in the Nativity, but how did Joseph feel?

A Father’s Love
Becca Barrus

I had been anxious for the arrival of this Child, not only for Mary’s sake, but also because He was not mine. The Eternal Father had entrusted this lowly carpenter with the task of raising His Only Begotten in the flesh. What mortal wouldn’t be nervous about such responsibility? I also worried that, because He was not mine, I would not be able to love Him as my own, and that He would not love me as His father. A fervent prayer had burned in my heart since the angel's visit that I would be able to give him the love of a father.

The Savior was born in humble circumstances, much humbler than I had expected. A stable was not the sort of place I would have chosen for my wife to bear any child, let alone my Lord and King. But there was no room to be had anywhere in the city.

Mary looks up at me with her beautiful, exhausted brown eyes. She wants to know if I would like to hold Yeshua now that He is cleansed of the blood. I hesitate and she grasps my hand.


Her sweet voice mingles with an inner voice I have felt often since the night of the angel’s visit. The compassion, the gentleness, the warmth cause my heart to swell. I tentatively ease the Child from her arms.

He warms my hands and chest as I hold Him close. Every line of His innocent, bruised face fills me with overwhelming joy and gratitude. His hair is dark and thick, like His mother’s. I see His clear blue eyes for a moment before He closes them, undoubtedly a gift from His Father.

As this Child, this Savior of all mankind, snuggles closer to my chest, all my doubts ebb away. The love I feel for Him is more wondrous than any other feeling I have experienced. The love and purity I feel radiating from His tiny body causes tears to slip down my cheeks.

Mary lays a hand on my arm, and her serene joy penetrates my soul. I kiss her forehead softly, then I kiss Yeshua’s brow. A faint smile lights His features. Mary looks into my eyes, glowing with maternal pride. She wants to hold Him again. I hand the Child to His beautiful mother.

He is not my son, but I have tasted how His true Father must feel.

(If you are going to re-post this, send it, whatever, please give credit where credit is due.)

Monday, December 15, 2008

Oh my yes.

So there's this thing called "Carols for a Cure" which is Broadway casts singing Christmas songs, putting them on a CD, and then giving the proceeds to AIDS research. Sometimes they're classics (like the Hairspray cast singing "Jolly Old Saint Nicholas") but sometimes they're NEW AND AWESOME CHRISTMAS SONGS THAT EVERYONE AND THEIR MOTHER SHOULD LISTEN TO! Such as "Angelo Rosenbaum" by the Lion King cast, which is about a Catholic Jew.

And BUM BA DA DUM! Twelve Days of Phantom!

Not only is it Phantom of the Opera (which is one of my favorite musicals), it's super hilarious. Who couldn't use a little late 19th century Parisian spice for their Christmas?

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Christmas musings

So I was thinking today (shocking, I know), and I was pondering on the true meaning of Christmas. You know how everyone's always saying that Christmas is about giving, giving, giving? Well, I was thinking of Christ and the Nativity and came to the conclusion that Christmas is also about receiving.

"What?" you're thinking. "This goes against everything I've ever been taught! Including the multiplication tables!"

Some people really have that whole giving thing down. They give so much that whenever you ask what they want for Christmas, they reply, "Oh, nothing" and you're stuck at the store, trying to imagine what they would like best. And then on Christmas morning they say, "Oh, Becca, you didn't have to get me anything. Here's this amazing present that you've wanted for fifteen years."

Since Christ gave His life for us and since He spent His whole life serving, the main lesson most people get from the Nativity is to serve our fellow man.

But think. His sacrifice is totally wasted if we don't choose to humbly receive it. He wants so badly for us to use the Atonement.

So that's why I think that learning how to receive graciously is just as important as learning to give. The end.

Monday, December 8, 2008

Christmas Memories

I've actually been planning to blog this for a few days now, but every dang time I sit down to blog, someone or other always comes along and kicks me off the computer. Like now. My dad just came in and told me to come "interact" with the family. Uh.... okay... I'm off for a little interaction break...

*insert chintzy Christmas muzak here*

Yes, well, this is going to have to be fast coz they're gonna kick me off again in 10 minutes.

It's that magical time of the year, in case, like myself, you haven't noticed. I was driving to school one morning and a DJ said something about there only being so many shopping days til Christmas and I shouted,

"Como se WHAT?! It's December? Since when?!"

And another reminder from my little brother happened while we were at the dinner table. My oldest little brother was saying something about someone stalking him and Micah exclaimed,

"What's stalking? Where's MY stocking?!"

Hee hee. These flavors of the season got me thinking about other memorable Christmas moments. There was the year where a neighbor made us a Nativity scene out of white chocolate. When it came time to eat it around New Year's, we ate the sheep and camels and Wise Men and shepherds with relish. However, when it dwindled down to Joseph, Mary, and the baby Jesus, no one was comfortable enough with their standing in heaven to eat them. I think I finally braved Mary, but we threw Jesus away because we'd rather not eat the Savior of all mankind.

Further moments in future installments; now I should probably go write my Great Ideas paper or read some Agatha Christie.

Sunday, November 30, 2008

Heck Week!

In the wonderful world of theatre, there is a period before the show opens called "Heck Week." In this week, the cast and crew scrambles to get the sets, costumes, numbers, and lighting in order. Mr. Garrison (the WJHS theatre teacher) likens it to puberty; it's this totally awkward but necessary phase for a show that hopefully transforms it into a beautiful specimen of glory.

But kinda sucks while you're in it.

Most people hate Heck Week, but I'm a total fan. I love staying at the theatre for all hours of the night; I love the goofy backstage jokes (and man am I backstage a lot...); I love doing scene changes over and over and over until you get it right, dang it; I love the general air of stress and the relief when we're finally let out at like 11.

So I might not blog for a long time. And if I do, it might be about the inconspicableness of getting stampled by Cotis. (no, it's not supposed to make sense unless it does)

Friday, November 28, 2008

Blonde McBlonderson

I consider myself to be a pretty bright individual, but some days I'm as blonde as blonde can be.

For example, I was playing Scattergories with my family over the Thanksgiving break and the letter was "R." I tore through the list with amazing speed, only to be stumped by "girls' names."

Rachel? I thought. No, Amy wants to name her first daughter Rachel; she'll totally have it. Rachelle? No, too close to Rachel. Rrrrrr.... Rrrrrr.... Ra....Ra....Ro...Ro...Re...Re...Reb...Rebe...Rebec....

"Duh!" I said out loud, scribbling my real name on the paper.


That's embarrassing. It took me almost two full minutes to think of my own name.

Welcome to Blondeness.

Monday, November 24, 2008

Para Mi Amiga Blanca

I really should start blogging more often, especially since my awesome white friend Korinne loves reading the nonsense I crank out. (No slight on your taste, deary.)I always have a hard time thinking of what to write...

Today's sale's pitch is called "Why Becca Would Like a Cell Phone for Christmas": (Korinne is also a big advocate of this movement)

1)Mom and Dad, I know that you say I can use your cell phone at any time, but lately I've been using it more than you've used it in the past three years. :)

2) Korinne wants to have almost unlimited access to me when we need to vent about stupid people.

3) Brandon and Mandi can add me to their family line for only $10 a month; money is not a problemo for me, especially since I can fill up the Green Vomit for less than 20 bucks every two and a half week. Hoo hoo!

4) My stupid car got another flat tire today (second time in a month! ARGH!) and I had to use a freshman's phone to let my parents know my stupid tire wouldn't come off. Also, I had to use someone else's phone to call them after rehearsal today and when they called back, I'd already left.

5)My parents would be able to take it if they thought I was abusing it, and I would put up no resistance at all.

6) Why not?

Thoughts, comments, rebuttals?

In other news, I broke down and saw Twilight on Saturday (yes, Korinne had me read the books, and yes, it was Korinne who invited me to see it). I liked it! I went in with way way way way way WAY low expectations and came out happy. I liked Bella a lot more in the movie more than in the book, thank heavens. I'm even going to see it again this weekend with Jaimi. My only complaint was that when Edward went into the sunlight and was supposed to sparkle like diamonds, he merely glistened like glitter. Hee hee...

However, my approval of the movie does not prohibit me from posting this awesomepants spoof I found on YouTube. I busted a gut laughing at this thing. I hope you enjoy it as well.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

More musings.

Time to get back on the old bloggo horse. Nothing super deep this time around, either. Mostly just random musings/updates.

In my creative writing class (which is fantastic, btw), our next assignment is to write a fanfic. Hoo hoo! Taking other peoples' universes and playing in them is one of my very favorite things to do! But I can't decide what to write... I think I'm going to do a Little Women fanfic, in which Amy drowns and Jo marries Laurie, Jo goes to Europe instead of Amy and Jo marries Laurie, Amy gets killed in Europe in a Paris riot and Jo marries Laurie, or Amy's face scarred in a horrific accident involving acid, she moves to France, and takes up residence underneath the Paris Opera House, where she threatens the owners and trains singers.

I'm not an Amy March fan; is it obvious?

*cough* Anyway, what other fanfics could I do?

My other musings include:

1) Have you ever noticed how high energy and low braincells are a lethal combination? It's like little dogs that are hyped up, but aren't bright enough to run around in open areas and end up running into walls. My brain was on a herbal tea break all day today and I was exhausted, and then at lunch something muy exciting happened. My energy level went through the roof, but left my poor little braincells behind. Not a very good combination.

2) Why is it "stalking" when a not very good-looking guy follows a girl around, watches her in while she's in her bedroom, and stares at her all the time, but deemed "romantic" and "totally appropriate" when a hot guy like Edward Cullen does it? In fact, Edward Cullen is a VAMPIRE and is more dangerous than any ugly guy! Is this what we are teaching our youth?! (I am only being semi-sarcastic)

Friday, November 7, 2008



I should probably write something. And it should probably be entertaining or something.


I got nothing.

Well, I got grounded. But that's pretty much it.

No, I didn't get caught smoking pot again (hahaha).

No, I wasn't caught with a guy (although I totally told my YW group that and they were scandalized...haha).

No, I didn't get arrested or ticketed.

I can't think of any other reasons a person would be grounded, besides the actual reason.

Last Friday I spent nine hours at Kayla's house and I didn't call my parents to check in and Kayla had turned off her cell phone, so they couldn't get a hold of me. So they were less than thrilled when I got home at midnight. (Not to mention this was a repeated offense; I got in that late pretty much every weekend in October.)

And plus I started this new medication that can have a side-effect of suicidal tendencies, so when they couldn't reach me, they thought I'd offed myself.

So, yeah, I'm grounded, but I'm glad my parents care enough to ground me.

Thursday, October 30, 2008


Today I made the most important discovery of my life.


I am NOT joking.

Most Important Discovery EVER:


There is no Hell. There is only an eternal math class.

The discovery happened during Calculus (surprise surprise) and went a little something like this:

Calculus teacher: All right, today we're going to tackle the revenue formula, learn why completing the square works, and fight our way through a bunch of matrices.

Me: *blinks*

Calculus teacher: *throws out formulas faster than most people can inhale a piece of cake*

Me: *squints at the board*

Formulas: *make whistling noises as they generously clear the top of my head*

Calculus teacher: Any questions?

My brain: *catches fire, therefore rendering its owner incapable of asking what time it was, much less what had just happened on the board*

Kid who can actually keep up with this dizzying barrage: Yeah. How can we calculate the maximum worth of NBA players?

Calculus teacher: Excellent question! Well, if you take the....*begins pulling numbers out of the air like Cinderella's godmother*

Me: *regaining a few braincells* I think I'll draw an eyeball in the margin of the notes I'm not taking.

Calculus teacher: ...and then you square the revenue, then divide by negative infinity...

Me: *looks up at the board; it is covered in scary-looking numbers* Mmhmm. Negative infinity. Got it.

Calculus teacher: ...and voila! NBA players are paid more than firefighters, policemen, and other civil servants who actually work for a living COMBINED.

Me: You needed a stupid math problem to figure that out?

Okay, so it didn't actually go down like that; the real version was much more boring and involved me losing consciousness for minutes at a time, only to wake to find that we were still on the same Satanic problem. Anyway, the moral is still the same: Math = my own personal hell.

Tuesday, October 21, 2008


This may or may not be a thinking post. I haven't decided yet. I just noticed that my last post is like a week old and that I should probably whip out something new.

Thought for today: You never notice how many bumps a road has until you drive on it when you have a full bladder.

Thought for the week: Never post anything on your blog that you don't want your little brother to read. Josh was mad at me the other night and irrationally fumed, "You can't even get a date!"



Anyway, that's the last I'm going to blog about dating. Ever. In fact, that's the last I'm going to TALK about dating. It's like having a peg leg; deal with it. Talking about it will not make that shark spit your leg back out. So you'd better get used to stumping around and having people give you weird looks.

This next bit isn't mine coz I don't ever write poetry, but I read it on a friend's blog and decided to steal it.

The Man In The Glass


When you get what you want in your struggle for self
And the world makes you king for a day,
Just go to the mirror and look at yourself
And see what that man has to say.

For it isn't your father or mother or wife
Whose judgment upon you must pass.
The fellow whose verdict counts most in you life
Is the one staring back from the glass.

You may be like Jack Horner and chisel a plum
And think you're a wonderful guy.
But the man in the glass says you're only a bum
If you can't look him straight in the eye.

He's the fellow to please-never mind all the rest,
For he's with you clear to the end.
And you've passed your most dangerous, difficult test
If the man in the glass is your friend.

You may fool the whole world down the pathway of years
And get pats on the back as you pass.
But your final reward will be heartache and tears
If you've cheated the man in the glass.

Sunday, October 12, 2008

How to be Less Intimidating

Although the title makes this post sound like a "How-To" post, it's not really. It's actually a curious request for advice.

So I've been of dating age for a year, a week, and two days now, and not once have I been asked on a date. Maybe it's because I'm unattractive, but everyone tells me it's because all the guys I know are intimidated by me.

Which is stupid because most of the guys I know are pretty cool, and I wouldn't turn them down if they asked. I wouldn't want to date them steadily, but a fun date once in a while would be socially healthy.

What should I do? Should I ask them out? I mean, I'm all for the whole feminist "girls can ask guys out" thing, but I want to be the one who's asked at least once. Is there a way to seem more approachable without dumbing myself down or dressing like a floozy? Or do I just have to wait for someone (select few know who I'm talking about, if indeed I am referring to someone specific) to get brave enough to ask? I don't want to appear desperate, but subtlety is not working so well.

Ayudame, por favor.

Sunday, October 5, 2008

Into the Mind of Korinne

I went to Into the Woods again last night with my friend Korinne because her dad couldn't go since he had to go to Priesthood session. Isn't that swell of her?

Anyway, since I think interviews are fun to do and I haven't interviewed anyone besides my stomach, I decided to take a notebook along and interview Korinne about random stuff.

Me: Well, it's intermission and I'm here with Korinne Ivory. I'm not sure why I'm interviewing her, but I am. First question: What do you think about the show so far?

Korinne: (Are you going to be one of those people who writes down everything I say? Me: Yes.) I love it coz everything at Hale is amazing. It's pretty awesome. It's...ffffantastic...with an exclamation point. Little Red Ridinghood is great and that one stepsister...she's funny.

Me: What do you think of J-Biz? (he was a student teacher for the choir at WJHS; he played Cinderella's prince)

Korinne: He's not very prince-ish, but he's doing a good job. I can't picture my student teacher as a prince.

There is a pause as I run out of questions. I ask Korinne to help me out. She has no ideas. I remind her that all five people who read my blog will be reading this interview. She gets excited because some random Argentine has been on my blog, and Korinne wants to be Hispanic.

Me: What would you like to say to the Argentines?

Korinne: They probably think I'm a retard...Hola!

Another pause. She asks why I'm interviewing her again. I tell her it's because I've only ever interviewed one person for my blog, and it was my stomach. So I'm 0-1 in coolness.

Korinne: I'm cooler than your stomach!

Me: Yes you are. Now, if you could be any role in this show, what would you be?

Korinne: Uh....think think think...

Me: Or your top three.

Korinne: *pauses*

Me: Five? Your top five?

Korinne: Either Little Red Ridinghood or Cinderella...ooooor a character...whose name is...I don't know. Anyone! I could play anyone. Except a male. I'm not a male.

Me: Since you're an amazing soprano, you could rock Rapunzel's role.

Korinne: Oh yeah. I'm amazing. Jk! And I have long hair!

Me: True on both accounts.

Korinne: *points to some random audience members* You know how they're sitting right by the platform where the narrator stands sometimes? I thought they were in the show. I was like, "What role do they play?"

We both laugh and I tease her and neglect to write down what we both said.

Me: Would the role of the baker be greatly improved by Dehaan?

Korinne: Of course! I mean, the baker's good, but Dehaan would be better. Por supuesto.

Me: What role can you see me doing?

Korinne: *taps chin in thought* *starts playing with tongue* Maybe the stepmom coz I can see you shanking off the toe... I don't know if you can shank off a toe. Can you?

Me: I dunno. So you think I'd be cast solely for my shanking abilities?

Korinne: *laughs* Yeah, you have great shanking skills.

Me: Are you ready for Act II? It's kind of dark/depressing.

Korinne: It is? No! I don't like depressing! I like happily ever after!

Me: To be continued after Act II.

Korinne: Okay. I'll try to intelligent up a little.

Me: Hahaha.

Later, when we had arrived at Korinne's house, she asked me to finish the interview.

Me: I have no more questions.

Korinne: What was the question?

Me: I didn't ask one.

Korinne: What? You didn't ask one? How am I supposed to respond to nothing?! "Here, Korinne, here's some silence; respond to it."

And that's where the interview ends. My interviewing skills aren't so great yet, mostly because I can't write as fast as Korinne and I talk. Maybe next time I'll just record us and then type up a manuscript from that.

Friday, October 3, 2008

Into the Woods and Out of the Woods and Home before Dark!

I don't really want to write anything today, but I would be remiss if I didn't review the production of Into the Woods I saw last night. (Into the Woods is Sondheim's mixed up fairy tale with lots of quick wit, quick lyrics, and deep social commentaries.)

Buuuuut I'm feeling really lazy, so I'm just going to give you some highlights.

- It was at Hale Center Theatre, so the revolving stage and the amazing sets and costumes dazzled my very eyeballs from their sockets. A-mazing.

- Little Red Riding Hood cracked me up like nobody's business. She was probably in her twenties and taller than Cinderella (she was 5 foot nothing, I swear), but she looked and acted exactly like a litter girl. She definitely stole the show. In one scene she threatens Jack (the beanstalk one) with a knife, then begins cleaning her nails with it.

- The Princes. Heavens to Betsy. SO funny. When Rapunzel's prince got blinded by the witch, he said "My EYES! (in that pompous princely tone that Edward uses in Enchanted)" staggered off-stage blindly and said "shoooot" under his breath. And of course, the "Agony" reprise is so repulsive and funny.

- The Baker's Wife continues to be my favorite character in the show (besides perhaps the witch, but I'll get to that in a sec). She's strong and human, funny and clear-thinking, and an all-around deep character. Haha, my favorite scene is when she attacks Cinderella in order to get her golden slipper and screams "I need your shoe to have a baby!"

- The witch is usually my favorite character. She's sarcastic and mean and powerful, but underneath all that, she really loves Rapunzel. I love "The Witch's Rap," "The Last Midnight," and "Lament." In Hale's production, however, our witch was also the director. Usually I'm okay with the director being in the show, but not if they don't rein themselves in. The witch, who isn't really a main character (she's more the voice of reason), hammed it up shamelessly last night. During her rap, she "fell asleep" and it took two minutes to wake her up. By the time she started singing again, I forgot what she had been singing about! The witch was better in the second act, but I was still kind of disappointed.

Hmmm, I think that's it. If anyone wants to hear about any of the other characters, let me know, all right? And yes, Mandi, Cinderella was very good, but I wish she had been a little spicier. (***NOTE: READ STU'S COMMENT*** Cecily is a freakin' trooper.)

And Brandon, I'll post my fable later. :)

UPDATE- Ironically, when I saw the show a second time, my only qualms were quieted. The witch was powerful and didn't try to ham it up too much, and Cecily was phenomenal. So much more depth in the second act. (probably due to her not getting a concussion this time!!!) I wish I'd seen her when she played Jo in Little Women a year or so ago!

Sunday, September 28, 2008

Musings during a Primary Program

Today we had our Annual Primary Program during Sacrament Meeting. For all those of you who don't know what a Primary Program is, it's when all the children under 12 in the congregation get up and share a spiel about the gospel. Children are said to be wise beyond their years, but mostly I just think they're hilarious. Here are some notes I took during the duration of forty-five minutes.

- "I (unintelligible) destiny." I'm not sure what this kid was saying, and I'm not entirely sure that destiny is part of church doctrine.

- "I incepted Hebenly Fadder's plan."

- After the three and four year olds got done with their bit, they went to sit down. Almost immediately a brawl began. "Hey, that's MY chair!" Howling and crying ensued. The toddlers involved remained upset during the whole program.

- While singing the song "Called to Serve" one little girl decided right then and there to bust out a solo. She grabbed the nearest mike (which wasn't on) and started singing until her teacher pulled her back.

- Micah, it seemed, had created interpretive dances for each one of the songs. He was highly entertaining to watch.

- The part with the most s's inevitably went to one of the only kids with a lisp. "Jethuth Chritht ith my Thavior and the Thavior of all mankind."

- My rebellious brother Josh has apparently taken up ventriloquism. He would barely move his lips, and yet sound would come out. (Sort of. He's not so good at the whole projecting part of singing yet.)

- The bishop's daughter started experimenting with the organ until he turned around and gave her "the eyebrow." This happened fairly fast; she only had time to press one key.

- I love when tall kids insist on standing on the topmost step of the step stool and they're sticking out three feet above the podium.

- I also love that some younger kids are clearer and more intelligible than the "cool" older kids. Example: A group of eight year olds quoted a scripture in the Doctrine and Covenants, which I could understand perfectly. I couldn't even tell what scripture the 11 year olds quoted. It sounded like "Mumble jumble wumble Lakers mumble grumble."

- The aformentioned Josh, when he got up to share his testimony, not-so subtly pointed out that he had actually turned 12 two days before and that he wasn't even supposed to be up there. Bless his heart.

I feel kind of bad, actually. I took more notes this Sunday than I've probably taken six months. Hopefully this is reawakening of a good habit. And if not, at least these funny childish acts have been immortalized. Who knows? Maybe that lisper will end up a famous orator or apostle. Maybe that mike-grabbing girl is the next Gladys Knight. You never know.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

The Cast List

Okay, okay, okay, okay. I'm getting down to it and posting. (Steph, it was your nudge that motivated me; I wasn't actually going to blog tonight.)

I didn't get the lead. But you know what? That's okay with me. I still have one more year at Paradigm. One more shot at the lead. At least I have a character with lines and a name.

I'm Mrs. Bixby, the shopkeeper's wife. As far as I know, I'm more "ensemble" than "supporting lead," but hey. I'm down with whatever I'm given. I trust Mr. Macy and Mrs. Steinmann's decision.

At least I am now. After seeing the cast list and seeing that I got the part I wanted the very least (she doesn't even sing; kind of a waste in my eyes), I had to take a time out. A literal time out.

You know, the kind that little children have to have when they're cranky and upset and doing/on the verge of doing dangerous things.

I turned to Jaimi (who has been my support system all week long) and said, "Hi. Will you sluff your next class and come sit in the Green Vomit with me?"

"Biology? Heck yes. Let's go."

So we sat in my car for an hour (Mr. Andrews even saw us and let us be), and I cried and pouted and Jaimi was just generally my voice of reason. If I hadn't taken that time-out, I would've thrown a diva fit and dropped the play altogether. But I took a step back and realized how fortunate I was to get a named character. If I hadn't been expecting the lead, I would've been ecstatic. So why should that change?

And Amy reminded me of when we saw "Cinderella" at Tuhacan and how we hated the lead, and how her stepsisters made us bust our spleens. So I've decided to be the ensemble character who steals the show. *mischevious smile*

Jo March is making her way up into the world. Look out, Broadway! I'm going to be the BEST MRS. BIXBY THIS WORLD HAS EVER SEEN. Ding!

Monday, September 22, 2008

Crazy Monday

So, today pretty much sucked up the wazoo. Not really badly, but enough that after Spanish 3 (my first class of the day) I went up to Jaimi and told her that I wanted to run away and join the circus because my life would never amount to anything. She managed to soothe me to the point that I agreed to face Calculus, and after that, the day wasn't as bad as it could've been.

Although, I was at work and a man dropped off EIGHTY FIVE shirts. They were dress shirts and all of them were still packaged and buttoned. Uck. He dropped it off about 45 minutes before we closed, and we were still tagging them 20 minutes after closing. I wanted to kill myself.

To blow off steam, I started talking. Anyone who knows me knows that I could talk the eyeballs out of a blind fish (whatever the heck that's supposed to mean) when I get in the mood. I thought of all the things I'd like to do to this guy when he picked up his shirts.

And somewhere in there, I started singing. I'm pretty sure my co-worker thought I was certifiably crazy, but whatever. I starting singing about how much I hated the shirts, and she said I should write a musical.

"No," I said after some consideration. "And even if there WAS a musical about dry cleaning, I wouldn't be in it. It would be like asking a concentration camp survivor to be in a play about the Nazis. Welcome to Bad Ideaville, USA."

I'm not sure why that was so funny at the time, but a lot of unfunny things have been hysterical to me lately. It's a sure sign that I'm becoming unhinged.

The cast list is going to be posted mid-morning tomorrow. This may be the staple to my sanity. :D But no sweat, right?

Sunday, September 21, 2008

From Hilary to Behuthis

(That title actually sounds like a pretty interesting book/movie title. I want everyone's ideas on what it would be about. You, too, blog stalkers.)

After reading my friend Sarah's blog (the chica is a literary genius), this post is going to seem so shallow and dumb, but I'm posting it anyway.

First off, happy seventeenth birthday to Hilary! I'm not sure if she reads my blog at all; however, I am wishing her most happy returns anyway. She is one of the only people who can keep up with my world famous mood swings. Hilary is also the reigning champion of effectively comforting me when I'm crying my eyeballs out. And she's got possibly the most gorgeous voice I've ever heard AND she's a kick-buttocks actress. Hilary, you're the pants. I wish I had a decent picture of the two of us to post here, but alas; 'tis not so.

One of my favorite Hilary memories is the one where we were walking home from Gardner Village or the cemetery and she got a blister... I'd say more if I was sure she wouldn't kill me in my bed for it. *mischievous grin*

This next sequence might be funny to some of you, and it might not be. Although I thought it was hilarious, I've been known snort uproariously at things such as the "p" being burnt out of the "pharmacy" sign.

Anyway, Micah tried to write his first and last name today and left his results lying around on the table. (I was going to post the actual paper, but blogger's not feeling like letting me upload it.)

I walked by it on my way through the kitchen, and I stopped to squint at it for a minute.

"Micah Behuthis? Who on earth is that? Behruhes?"

My mom immediately jumped to Micah's defense.

"It says 'Micah Barrus.' He's still working on his writing skills."

I'll say. During church today I had him trace letters on my back, and I couldn't tell a Q from an A. (Okay, so he did it correctly on the back of the "Behuthis" page; but still.)

That's all. I really stink at conclusions. The thought for this week is "Everyone is Different."

Friday, September 19, 2008

Another Audition

At the command of my older brother, I'm blogging about my audition/callback experience for Seven Brides for Seven Brothers.

Despite my previous, ignorant hatred of the show, I decided to audition. I mean, it's not like I'm going to get any other chances any time soon, right? So I went and sang "Forget about the Boy" for Mrs. Steinmann and Mr. Macy (both amazing individuals).

I should explain that at auditions I either completely suck up the floor or totally rock. I totally rocked, if I may be so humble. Mr. Macy even told so me afterward. :) I rocked the high notes that I usually can't hit decently. Adrenaline pulsed through my body and added emotion I didn't even knew I had.

It was a good audition.

I got callbacks, as you can obviously tell from the top paragraph, and I went today from 3 to 5:30. I don't want to give my honest opinion so I don't jinx myself, but let's just say that I feel very very very very very good about my whole performance (especially in regard to some of the others). But that's all I'm going to say about that.

Anyway, I'm over my hatred of the show. As I've learned more about it, it's become more and more palatable to me. Especially since Milly has to civilize six brutes. I mean, hey, I do that every day with my little savage brothers!

The cast list is going to be posted on Tuesday. I'll letcha know what happens.

Sunday, September 14, 2008

Friend hierarchy

I use Facebook (the online social network) because it's a way to keep up with my friends that doesn't result in being cyber-preyed. (I read a scary book on cyber predators the other day; Sheep's_Clothing. It gave me nightmares.) However, the term "friend" is loosely defined on Facebook. It's pretty much anyone you know or know through somebody.

For example, I have ninety-one friends on Facebook, but I'd only count twenty-two of them as my real friends. Of the seventy left, I only really really know twenty (likes/dislikes, hobbies, family). The rest are people I know vaguely (brother-in-law's sister, sister-in-law's cousin, random people from school, friend's brother, etc).

In my opinion, there should be a way to differentiate between true friends and random people I would never hang out with. Instead of just a "friend" status, there should be "schoolmate," "vague acqaintance," "acquaintance," "cousin," "friend," and "close friend." There should probably be a "sibling" status, too, in case you aren't friends with your siblings, unlike myself. (Well, except for Josh, but he's on there illegally anyway; the moron changed his birthday so now it says he's 18. Liar!)

Or maybe even a "lackey" status. I have a few of those on Facebook...

Yeah, that's pretty much it. If I don't write for a while, it's because I'm completely engrossed in my schoolwork. Huzzah! I'm so excited for this year. I'll probably drop dead halfway through it, but it will be worth it. I've decided to get a five on the AP Calculus test if it kills me. There is no way I'm EVER taking math during college if I don't have to.

Monday, September 8, 2008


Before I start blogging about my first day back at Paradigm, I've got to set aside a few paragraphs for my little brother, Micah.

Today Micah is turning five years old! It's insane. It seems like just yesterday that he was a little obnoxious red-headed baby with a wheat allergy. Now he thinks I'M obnoxious and can eat whatever he dang well pleases. What would I do without him?

Like this morning, for instance. I was up along with everyone else for the first time since June, and my mum was talking to Micah about what birthday cereal he wanted.

"I want Raisin Bran!" (we never have to buy the stuff; no one but my dad and Micah eats it and we have several boxes in the basement)

Ew. Josh tried to tell Micah to get Crunch Berries or something, but Micah was staunch. He wanted Raisin Bran! What a character.

Yesterday we went to Temple Square on a family outing. Micah was playing the role of tour guide very well, despite the fact that he made up everything as he went. We were in the South visitors' center; the one with the big window with a view of the Salt Lake Temple.

In his tour guide voice, Micah pointed at the temple and said, "There was this one time where I was a good guy and the bad guys were in there and they were making fun of me, of course."

My mum and I exchanged amused glances.

"Micah, what building is that?"

"The great and spacious building." (from Lehi's dream)

Bless his little heart.

Happy Birthday, Crazypants!

Now for Paradigm. MAN I love that place! Seeing all my friends and the mentors and the not-even-half-finished made my heart swell with love. (look, I already know I'm a nerd; if you didn't you've missed the last 65 posts) Even though I didn't have any actual classes, it was still the pants. Ms. Hanson pulled some strings and now I'm in her mentor class! She's possibly the coolest teacher at Paradigm (which is saying something because all the mentors at Paradigm are all really cool).

I'm ready to learn!

Saturday, September 6, 2008

Mamma Mi-diocre

There's this song on "Forbidden Broadway: Special Victims' Unit" called "Mamma Mi-diocre." Like all Forbidden Broadway songs, it's spot-on and hilarious.

(I've been trying to find a way to post it on my blog for about two hours now.)

Anyways, that's not the point. The reason Forbidden Broadway is so funny is that they either hit the truth right on the head, or they exaggerate it. The sort of stuff they say about "Mamma Mia" is that it's fantastic, but only compared to the dreck B'way has been cranking out lately.

I didn't really take this into account when Danika called up Thursday night and asked if I wanted to come see it. After all, FB mocks "Thoroughly Modern Millie" and says it didn't deserve to win the Tony for best musical. They could be wrong about "Mamma Mia," too, I thought. Plus, it's ABBA music! You can't go wrong, right?


Terribly, terribly wrong.

It wasn't until 2 hours and &7.75 later that I fully realized this, though. "Mamma Mia" was tasteless and had possibly the worst plot I've ever had the misfortune to meet. There were a few (very few) funny lines, but musical lovers cannot live on humor alone.

You know that friend that everyone has who hates musicals because it's so unrealistic that people would break out into song like that? Well, that friend would be justified by "Mamma Mia." Rather than the traditional style where the songs are written for the musical, "Mamma Mia" was written around the ABBA songs. So each song was an awkward leap into the abyss. *shudder* It was good music with some pretty good vocals, but it just didn't make sense.

Also, too many innuendos and too much talk about sleeping around. The romantic relationships were woefully underdeveloped. Donna (Meryl Streep) and the Dynamos were obnoxiously juvenile. And couldn't they have at least dubbed Pierce Brosnan's voice? If dubbing is good enough for Audrey Hepburn (the queen of the screen), it's dang well good enough for James Bond.

If you want to rock out to some ABBA songs, go buy their CD. "Mamma Mia" is not worth your time or consideration. Period.

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

The Slurpee Adventure

Yesterday was not so great. I mean, it was okay up until the whole work thing.

Today was almost the exact same; I woke up, did nothing productive, went to WJHS during lunch, came home, did nothing productive, then went to work.

Except today I went on The Slurpee Adventure! Dun duh da dun!

Actually, I was going to go on The Slurpee Adventure with Korinne yesterday, but I couldn't find her until lunchtime was almost over, so it was postponed until today.

As soon as I met Korinne by her locker, she said, "Becca, I drew you a picture! I did it in physics when I was bored."

There are some things I should probably explain:

1) The Green Vomit- The Green Vomit is my car, and was, sadly, being used by my older sister. We had to drive my big 15 passenger grey and white van. Just the two of us. It was awesome.

2) "I <3 School!"- Korinne likes to make fun of the fact that I love learning/school. One time she even said, "I'm Becca! I love learning! It's better than Disneyland!" (which is kinda true, actually...)

Anyway, I had to do some fancy driving and wrong-turning in order to maneuver the bus to the nearest 7-11. When we finally got there, apparently it's this hang-out for the Shady Creeps' Gang. Seriously. The only people there were shady gangsters. It was great.

And then--get this--Korinne was only going to do ONE flavor of Slurpee! Holy cow! Who does that? She said, "I think I'll get the pina colada..." and I said, "What now? Oh, yeah. You're my one-Slurpee-flavor friend. Weirdo. It's all about layering!" Then, in an act of supreme courage, she put all the flavors in her Slurpee.

I've never been so proud in my life.

So, I took her back to school for her fun half of the day, and I was left with a little life-saver to hold onto when that jerk-face swore at me during work. I hope he's grateful; he was one Slurpee and a Korinne-hug away from being repeatedly stabbed in the jugular with a hanger.

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

A Jonah Day

Whoosh. Do you ever have one of those days where you could literally kill every annoying/inconvenient/stupid person you encounter? Anne Shirley calls those days "Jonah days."

I call them "I want to kill every annoying/inconvenient/stupid person who has the misfourtune to cross my path" days. (or IWtKEAISPwhtMtCmP for short)

Usually it's just my little brothers. They have this innate ability to get juuuust under my skin without actually breaking any house rules. Thus, when I punch them for being annoying, I'm the one who gets busted.

But today it was nearly every customer who darkened our door. Okay, that's not true. It's time to be rational, Becca. It was just the ones who dropped off more than 5 items of clothing. And the morons who had the audacity to come drop off 16 items of clothing 15 minutes before closing.

I'm usually okay with those morons, but when they all get together and decide that they're all gonna visit within minutes of each other, that's when I think it's about time to bust out the spike strips.

*sighs* I need a way to get rid of all of this irrational anger. Any suggestions?

PS- Is it technically lying when people ask you how you're doing and you say "good," even when you'd like to slit their tires?

Friday, August 29, 2008

Signs that I need to go back to school

The top however-many-I-feel-like signs that I need to go back to school:

1) I went to go watch Wishbone today and it was a rerun. From the June.

2) The fact that watching Wishbone (even reruns) is usually the highlight of my day.

3) The only person I hang out with is Micah, my four year old little brother, because everyone else is back in school/has a life.

4) My friends ask me to help them with their essays for school. Not only do I do it, I enjoy doing it.

5) The majority of my day is spent thinking up new and innovative things I could do and then never doing them.

6) I sneak into WJHS at lunch to see my friends.

7) I eat breakfast at 10, then start thinking about what to eat for lunch at 11. It takes so long to decide that it's usually 1 by the time I actually eat.

8) I've probably read over fifty books this summer. And now I'm sick of reading. (gasp in horror, gentle readers; this is a big thing)

Yeah, I think that's it. Anyway, at least there won't be a full week of Jumpstart-ness. Since we're starting so late, full class days begin on the Thursday after we start. Huzzah!

Tuesday, August 26, 2008


Paradigm is doing retarded Seven Brides for Seven Brothers (which, if any of you are interested, is on the list on Western musicals that I hate; Annie Get Your Gun, Oklahoma, and Paint Your Wagon are on that list, too) for our school musical. I'm sure I could get over that fact (after long sessions of therapy), if not for something else.

Jordan High is doing Thoroughly Modern Millie.

*writhes in sheer agony*

Thoroughly Modern Millie is on my "A" list of musicals. It's up there with Wicked, Little Women, Fiddler on the Roof, and Into the Woods. I would give my left lung to be in the chorus!

To be completely fair, though, I haven't actually seen SBfSB; however, I've heard most of the music and I've got a complete bias against country-sounding musicals. Ick.

Plus, there are at LEAST seven male roles that need to be filled. Which means we'll have to find at least seven guys who are willing to sing, act, and dance.

Which isn't gonna happen.

Two years ago, Paradigm did You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown. There are quite a few guy roles, right? Linus, Schroader, and, por supuesto, Charlie Brown.

Not one guy auditioned. So our drama teacher made the best of it; he made it an all girl cast. They were all fabulous, but that strategy won't work for SBfSB. Um, awkwardness of awkwardnesses. No can do.

We'll just see...

....not worth titling....

This is Ophelia.

She was driven insane when Prince Hamlet spurned her.

She drowned herself.

This is Becca.

She went crazy for lots of reasons.

Not only does her school not start for another two weeks,
she just found out that her school musical is "Seven Brides for
Seven Brothers."

She's not going to drown herself, but I'd keep lakes/rivers/oceans
and all sharp objects away from her.

Seriously SO TICKED

I am about ready to start bustin' heads, Chuck Norris style.

My family just got an email from Paradigm saying that we won't be starting until the 8th.


Friday, August 22, 2008

Redneck Becca

Today was a day of self discovery. Exactly what did I discover? An insane passion for extreme sports.

All right, so riding mechanical bulls is not "extreme." But it's harder than it looks.

I was always one of those people that scoffed at cowboys. And in that song "Live like You were Dying" where Tim sings about going 3.7 seconds on a bull named Fumanchu, I always thought, "What a loser. Less than 4 seconds... I coulda out-rode him!"

My family was at Snowbird today for one of my dad's work parties, so I did rode the Alpine Slide a couple of times, then got bored. (The line was obscenely long.) There was a mechanical bull randomly by the track, but I ignored it largely.

It caught Micah's eye, however, and he told me that he "wanted to ride the camel." Since he's not seven, though, he couldn't. So I let him ride vicariously through me. My first ride I was a little stiff, but it was so much fun!

And so I went again....

And again.....

It was pretty much the awesome-sauce pantalones from heaven. There were these guys in their 20's there and they were getting thrown left and right. It made me feel pretty good about myself. That, and Micah is the high-pitched screaming in the background. He thinks I'm so cool now.

I've decided that this would pretty much be a kick-butt date. Now if only I could find a guy who'd be willing to be thrown off a bull...or a guy who's willing to go on a date with me period....

PS- I hope you watch these videos more than once. They are taking a maddeningly long time to upload.

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Relationship problems

I've been having relationship problems lately. We agreed to separate for the summer, but now I'm ready to get back together. It's just been too long! He says he doesn't want me back for a couple weeks.

I'm ready to dive into a more serious relationship, but he says that he just wants to play for the first little while.

As angry as I am at him right now, I honestly can put up with it. I know that once we get over this rough patch, he'll sweep me off my feet and we'll get along again.

Who is this studly guy?'s kind of embarrassing.....


It's my school. I know, I know; que un petardo! ("what a nerd" in Spanish) I know I'm a nerd.
Everyone who knows me knows I'm a nerd. And I'm okay with that.

I've been waiting for school to start since the beginning of July. It's set to start on the 2nd of September (our new building isn't quite finished yet); however, the first week is known as "Jumpstart Week."

I was hoping it'd be "jumpstart" like "we're going to give you a mind-stretching essay that's due by the end of the week." Nope. It's "jumpstart" like "we're going to play games and get to know each other and talk about our school values." Seriously, we only have to go to school for four hours a day the first week.

That kind of thing is acceptable as a first-day-of-school thing. Maybe even the first and second days. But a whole week? I'm deeply saddened. We don't even get our final schedules until the 5th.

I'm sure that by the end of the first day I'll be elated and drugged up on joyness. But for right now, my soul is cast into the deep pit of woe and no man can drag me from thence.

Sunday, August 17, 2008

The trend has begun...

Apparently, somebody in Beijing read my last post and decided that The Pants would be a really cool building.

Behold!This is the new CCTV headquarters. One of my YW leaders excitedly informed me of its existence today during church. I couldn't believe my fortune. Woo hoo! Once I get China under my control, everyone else is pretty much hosed! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Saturday, August 16, 2008

The Pants

Have you ever wondered who starts trends? Who decided that the side bangs are cool? Who decided that the nasty baggy pants are cool? Who decided that "cool" is cool?

Ordinary people like you and me.

Of course, it's not the people that make something catchy. It's the catchiness in and of itself. It has to be almost universally appealing or it won't work.

Anyone who knows me knows that lately I've been using "the pants" as an expression of pleasure or approval. I used to think that I heard an old guy using it and picked it up, but I'm not so sure anymore. One day I texted Korinne and said, "You're the pants!"

She gave the reaction that I've heard many times since.

"I'm the what?"

People always react like that, but if they're exposed to me long enough, they start saying it. They even make up other jokes to go along with it. The first time I called my sister's friend Caryn the pants, she didn't even flinch.

"Yes! I've been the capris for so long! I'm glad I got promoted to the pants."

Even if it never catches on a huge scale, it can be my little quirk. It rolls off the tongue and screams "Becca!"

Oh, and the fact that school doesn't start til the 2nd of September for me?


Monday, August 11, 2008

Little Women meets Harry Potter

Okay, I have to get this off my chest; I hate fictional relationships that make absolutely no sense. It's all right when you look at people in real life and say, "How on earth did you two hook up?" because it's real. But for heaven's sake, if you're going to have two fictional characters get together, at least make it believable. Do I have any specific examples? You bet.

Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley. The Harry/Ginny relationship is my biggest pet peeve ever. (Number two is Ron and Hermione; I'll explain why it's only #2 in a sec.) You have Harry Potter, main character, hero, complex, very well-rounded. And then you have Ginny Weasley. Red haired. Uh... Quidditch keeper? What the heck do we know about her? She's a hit with the boys, apparently. But that's it. What does she actually help Harry with? We barely see her in the first book; she sets Voldemort loose in the second book; she's pretty much nonexistent in books three and four; she semi-helps with the raid on the Ministry in the fifth book; I can't even remember her role in the sixth book besides making out with Harry; and she's got no role at all in the seventh book.

And the MAIN CHARACTER ends up marrying her and naming his children stupid names with her? (Albus Severus...I ask you!) Good job, JK.

Ron and Hermione make a little more sense; at least they sort of hang out in all the books. But of the two, Hermione is about a hundred times more important to the plot (and Harry's life) than Ron.

JK Rowling was an avid Little Women fan when she was younger, did you know that? (She likes being called "Jo," actually.) That little-known fact gave me a foundation for my theory:

She wants to inflict the same pain she felt when Laurie didn't marry Jo on our generation. Jo and Laurie (like Harry and Hermione) make perfect sense, too. But Louisa didn't want Jo to get married because she herself never married. So she had Jo shun Laurie.

Of course, the fans back in the 1800's wouldn't hear of Jo staying unmarried. So Louisa introduced Professor Bhaer, the kindly old German professor who thinks Jo is the pants. Jo agrees to marry him, and Laurie marries Amy (Jo's LITTLE SISTER; Ginny, anyone?).

Ms. Rowling is spreading her anguish to the Harry Potter generation. I guess that makes my irritation at Harry/Ginny and Hermione/Ron a bit more bearable.

But only a bit.

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Seriously posting

Hey! I'm finally buckling down and blogging! Remember how I promised how this post would be amusing/engaging? Well, I may or may not have been lying. We'll just have to see...


WAIT! I think I have a spark of creativity!

Mmm, nope. That'd be my stomach. Sometimes it talks to me. Want me to interpret?

Stomach: "Hey! Let's go get some Bajio!"

Me: "Nope. We got some yesterday, remember?"

Stomach: "Yeah, and remember how good it was? We could eat chimichangas all day!"

Me: "We probably could. But then we'd explode, like that guy on Batman."

Stomach: "Ew. That's gross, Becca."

Me: "I know, right? That's why we're not getting Bajio today."

Stomach: "*sighs* What about Panda? Can we go get Panda?"

Me: "*looks at clock* No. It's 12:50. We need to go make a pants cake with Lauren in a little bit."

Stomach: "Oooh! A pants cake is almost as good as Panda!"

Me: "We won't be eating it, stomach. It's for Gretchen and Missy."

Stomach: "...oh...."

Me: "Let's go make a sandwich so you stop whining, okay?"

Stomach: "Woot! Let's do it!"

So, I'm going to go get a sandwich for my loud stomach. I'll think of something funny/creative later, okay?

Thursday, July 31, 2008

*Warning; this is possibly the lamest post ever*

It's been a while since I've written, but I can honestly say that I've had nothing good to write. No musings, no stories, no critiques. I've seen plenty of movies in the past little while; however, none of them warrants a full review. The Dark Knight was all right. I'm not a huge fan of explosions and violence galore. Definitely, Maybe was better than I expected, which doesn't say a whole lot because my expectations were low. Abigail Breslin was absolutely repulsive. I have never seen a less endearing child. Merci Pour Le Chocolat is a French "suspense" movie about this crazy woman who drugs hot chocolate for fun... It was supposed to be Hitchcock-ian. I was not impressed.

I haven't read anything grippingly good either. Death on the Nile (Agatha Christie) doesn't count because I'd already seen the movie and guessed who the killer was. (That, however, is a fantastic movie; maybe I'll go rent it.)

And it doesn't help that I'm all gross and sick from this kidney infection I picked up this past week. Blech. It's time for a shower, and then I'm going to watch Little Women until my brains fall out. I promise that the next post will be more coherent and amusing than this one.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

The Lord commanded "No Ponies"

Another Micah story here; he's just s'dang funny that I had to share it.

He likes to talk to himself a lot, especially in our living room. So just a couple minutes ago I went in there and sat on the couch. Micah was not amused.

"Go away," he said in an irritated voice. "I'm talking to myself."

"Can I talk to yourself, too?"

"No. You can't listen to me." Death glare.

"Well, can I talk to myself while just so happening to be in the same room?"

"No." He flopped back onto the couch opposite me dramatically.

"I'll leave if you give me a pony." (ponies are my answer for everything)

Scowl. "There are no ponies in the land."


"Only horses and other animals. God doesn't like ponies."

I grinned at him, which annoyed him even more. "So are you saying God didn't create ponies?"

"Yes. The Lord commanded 'No Ponies!'"

I left him alone then (he's still flopped on the couch) to have a huge long laugh without being scowled at. "The Lord commanded 'No Ponies'..." I had no idea.

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Broken heart

Do you remember my last experience of seeing Little Women: The Musical? It was mostly positive, right? (despite my complaints about Jo, but that was mostly jealousy) I thought, despite being a lowly city-run show, it was fantastic on the grounds that it was Little Women. No one can destroy or dismantle the musical completely, right?


Here in the Salt Lake Valley, Hale Center Theatre is a huge thing. The shows are expensive, and rightly so. I've been to several shows there (Little Women, To Kill a Mockingbird, The Secret Garden, Thoroughly Modern Millie, The Civil War, The Miracle Worker) and have been blown away every time. The effects, the acting, and the singing are all very professional. I have never walked away from a Hale Center show disappointed.

Which is why, when I saw that Hale Center Theatre-Orem was doing Little Women, I called my friend Hilary and told her that we simply must go on an excursion there. The tickets were a reasonable price, so I ordered them and we drove there Saturday night. I prepared myself to cry (I've cried all 4 times I've seen it previously) and laugh and enjoy myself.

I laughed. I enjoyed myself reasonably. But. I. Did. Not. Cry. I know that seems like a small thing for those of you who aren't well acquainted with Little Women, but it's huge. One of the most captivating things about Little Women anything (the movie, the musical, the novel) is that it manages to balance the humor and drama perfectly. We wouldn't love Jo as much if she didn't make us laugh; inversely, it wouldn't touch us so deeply if it didn't make us cry or ache.

The director played the humor card too much and didn't leave the audience any time to really connect with the characters. The last time, my only complaint was against Jo; this performance left me with complaints about almost every character except John Brooke (he's not a very round character anyway). Criticizing time.

Let's start with Jo. She had very good comedic timing, I'll give her that. The playbill said that she played Rita in Lucky Stiff, and I honestly think she would have shone in that role. It took me until halfway through the first act to realize who she reminded me of. Idina Menzel. She had the same kind of nasally style as Idina in Enchanted. Don't get me wrong; I loved Idina in Enchanted. She busted me up every time she took the screen. I love Idina. Just not as Jo. There was a certain lack in energy. I couldn't really differentiate between her vivacity before Beth died and afterwards. She just felt wrong.

Beth. She was very Beth-looking and a sweetheart to boot. Also, I've never seen a Beth in the musical cradle dolls like this Beth did, which I thought was an excellent idea. But she kept cradling this stuffed monkey, and I snorted with laughter every time I saw it. Did they have stuffed monkeys during the Civil War? Also, I know she was dying during "Some Things Are Meant to Be," but she could have sang a little louder and clearer.

Meg. Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh. She had a good voice........ But, erm, you know how Meg is supposed to be the beauty of the family? Well, uh, this Meg...was rather large and...not...pretty... That's all I'm gonna say...

Amy. I think Amy was probably the one I liked the most. She, too, was rather large (almost bigger than Jo), but she was a good enough actress that I forgot about that.

I wasn't really supremely bugged by any other players. Not enough to give them their own paragraph anyway. Mr. Laurence had a fruity voice and expressions, Laurie handled Jo's rejection all wrong, and Professor Bhaer had an inconsistent accent and was boring. Small Umbrella put me to sleep. They didn't even do the umbrella kiss.

And you know the dream sequence in Fiddler on the Roof? How it's a total drug trip? "Weekly Volcano Press" was about five times worse. It's supposed to be slightly surreal, but this was ridiculous. The hag (as played by Marmee, who I felt apathetic towards) was this huge thing with bulging eyes and a protruding mouth. I looked at Hilary, who was stifling giggles, and said, "What on earth IS that?"

Well, I've ranted long enough. Hopefully my next experience with Little Women will bring rave reviews. And as long as I'm hoping, I might as well hope that I can be in the next show. Right, right?

Monday, July 21, 2008

Artists are special

I love drawing. I taught myself how when I was in 7th grade and not learning anything at my crappy public school, and now I doodle on everything: note cards, notebooks, napkins, paper tablecloths, camp manuals, etc.

I especially love drawing people. Sometimes they're random people in my head, and sometimes I use people as models. (Not actual people; generally pictures from magazines or whatever.) But sometimes I get the weirdest urges...

I'll be walking along, minding my own blessed business, when I see someone and BAM. I get this almost uncontrollable urge to draw them. Usually it's people I see more than once, but don't know very well. I can't very well whip out a sketchpad and draw them right then and there; these things take time. And I can't ask for their picture. Can you imagine how weird that would be?

"Excuse me. I barely know you, but could I take your picture? I would love to draw you." Awkward!

Maybe I'm too sensitive. What do you all think? If a random person who you sort of knew came up and asked if they could draw you, would you be okay with it?

The reason I bring it up at all is because when I was at Girls' Camp last week, one of the stake YW directors was very draw-able. Not because she was super-gorgeous or anything; she just had a very aesthetically pleasing face with just the right lines. So I spent all 4 days debating whether or not I would ask if I could take her picture...

It's hard to have the drawing bug and not be able to draw what got it started in the first place. I got out my notebook and sketched sundry characters in my brain, but I was restless. Doodles filled my pages; however, nothing got me excited.

The end of the story is that I never did ask. And now I'm aching to draw! It's like getting an itch when you have a cast; you know that if you really tried, you could scratch it, but you don't know if it would be worth it. What do you think?

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Little Brother-ism

My little brother Micah is four years old and somewhat of a sassypants. He used to worship me, but that got lost somewhere... Now he thinks I'm annoying (imagine that!), despite the great care I take of him.

This past Saturday, he said he was hungry, so I told him I'd make him something. He said, no, he just wanted one of the sandwiches Mum had made a couple days before and stuck in the fridge.

"But Micah," I said, "You won't like it."

"Yes I will!" said Micah, ever contrary.

"It has Miracle Whip. You hate Miracle Whip."

"No, I love Miracle Whip!"

"But it has mustard."

"I like mustard!"

"It has ham."

"I like ham!"

All of these declarations of love from my little brother were false. He hates all those things! So, to show my horror at his falsehoods, I said dramatically,

"Lies! Scandal!"

By this time he'd taken the sandwich out of the fridge and, looking at me innocently, said,

"I like lies and a scandal."

...what a liar...

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Corpse Auditions

In order to replace a certain musical-which-shall-not-be-named addiction, I picked up the "Lucky Stiff" soundtrack at the library the other week. It's good, catchy music and has a hilarious plot.

Here's the run-down. There's this guy named Harry Witherspoon whose uncle was killed in Atlantic City. His Uncle Anthony is prepared to leave six million dollars to his nephew, but only if Harry wheels his uncle's body around Monte Carlo for a week and pretends that he's alive.

So, naturally, Harry tries it out. He wheels this dead guy around the stage the whole entire show, and the dead guy is very convincing. Which leads me to the question that nagged at my mind as I was drifting off to sleep last night: What kind of audition do they have for the guy who plays the corpse? He doesn't have to sing. He doesn't have to speak. He doesn't have to move. (Well, not counting his dance number...)

Do they just sit him in a chair and see how corpse-like he can be? Do they poke him? Do they tickle his nose?

This is one of those questions that will haunt me 'til the day I die.

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

The Inbox of no return...

I have a confession to make: sometimes...I don't reply to emails for a very long time. It's not because I hate (or even dislike) the people who write to me or anything. And it's not like I let the emails rot for months (or even weeks) on end. They just sit there for a couple days, and I look at them and say, "Oh, dear. I really should write back to Beth. And that one from Meg has been sitting there far too long. I should write back..."

And of course I don't until a few days later. Is this a normal? Am I lazy? If it's an urgent email, such as one from Korinne saying how much she hates boys and would like to talk to me as soon as time permits, I reply as fast as anything. But the commonplace email usually marinates in my Inbox for a day at the least.

That leads me to the question of the day: does the majority of the technologically-savvy world reply to conversation emails faster or slower than I do?

Input and comments are greatly appreciated.

Saturday, July 5, 2008

Before Green Gables

I'm generally not a fan of the -quels. You know, sequels and prequels and the ever-dreaded threequels. Sometimes they're done by the original creators, and sometimes they aren't. Some are fantastic and leave you drooling for more (ex: Uglies, Harry Potter, etc). Some, such as the Star Wars prequels, explain a lot, but aren't necessarily needed. Some, like National Treasure 2, are good, but pretty much just copies of the original. Some are just stupid and you wonder why on earth you wasted your time and energy watching/reading them.

So I had mixed feelings when I saw Before Green Gables: The Prequel to Anne of Green Gables on the shelf of the teen fiction section of my library. On the one hand, I love Anne almost as much as I love Jo, and was aching to learn more about her. I mean, caring for three sets of twins when she lived with the Hammonds? Heck, I couldn't do that! But on the other, more cynical hand, it wasn't written by LM Montgomery and published long before I was born. It was written by Budge Wilson and published this last February.

As it happened, there wasn't anything else worth reading in the aforementioned teen section (I feel like a body snatcher visiting an old graveyard for the hundredth time whenever I go there; very rarely do I come away with something worth taking back to Dr. Kisset.), so, in spite of my doubts, I checked it out.

The first couple (and by couple I mean twelve) chapters focus on Anne's parents, Walter and Bertha Shirley, in Bolingbroke, Nova Scotia, Canada. This takes up the first fifty pages of the novel. Unfortunately, it's easy to forget that this is about Anne Shirley at this point. It talks about Bertha; it talks about the unhappy state of affairs her neighbor is in; it talks about the cleaning lady, Mrs. Thomas, and how surprised she is that Bertha and Walter actually love each other. It's interesting, but not enthralling. The same goes for the next eight chapters because Anne cannot talk fluently yet, and everyone knows that a good part of Anne's charm is in her quaint word choice.

After those first few obstacles, one can whole-heartedly throw oneself into the story. Anne faces setback after setback after setback and still finds time to smile and to laugh and to dream. There's a touching moment where she's talking to Mr. Thomas (yes, Mrs. Thomas' "intoxicated husband" to whom Anne refers when she accidentally sets Diana drunk) and he asks her why the noise of his four very rowdy boys (and cranky wife) doesn't bother her. She explains her knack for pretending things and urges him to try it. It seems to work on the depressed soul for a while, but ends up in a drinking streak and the family has to move from Bolingbroke to Marysville.

It is in Marysville that Anne acquires her exquisite new vocabulary. Mr. Johnson, the Egg Man and resident tragic victim of romance gone awry, is enchanted by Anne and teaches her five new words each time she comes to fetch the eggs. He gives her such Anne-esque words and phrases as "imagination," "depths of despair," and "exquisite."

Alas, Mr. Thomas dies, and poor, plucky Anne is sent to live with the Hammonds. Until reading this, I'd always envisioned Mrs. Hammond as some old crank with eight children, neatly intersperced. Nope. She's only twenty-four (she married at nineteen) and has children every May "as regularly as clockwork." So when Anne gets there, there are already six children, all under the age of four. The spring after Anne arrives, another set of twins comes and adds to the pandemonium.

Anyway, to make a three-hundred-and-eighty-seven-page story short, Mr. Hammond dies as well, and Anne is shipped off to the orphanage where, of course, Mrs. Spencer comes and picks out an eleven year old girl for the Cuthberts.

I was so engrossed that I jumped right from Before Green Gables to the original Anne of Green Gables. It was a rather awkward leap, just because you've been in Anne's head so long that it's weird to be re-introduced to her through Marilla's eyes. But in all other aspects, it's very nearly perfect. My only complaint is that Mrs. Wilson didn't explain where Anne got "kindred spirits" from, but you can't have everything, I suppose.

However, it gets double deuce action from my thumbs. I highly recommend it to anyone who loves Anne as much as I do. Or to anyone who's sick of perusing through "Bad Girls in Love" and "Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen."

Thursday, July 3, 2008's like the Twilight Zone over here.

I live in a house of boys. Energetic boys. Noisy boys. Boys who lack certain social graces. Boys who play tackle football in their rooms...complete with field goals. I complain about them kind of sort of a lot. Just ask my friends. Hilary's forever telling me to share one of my brother's irrational outbursts. "I hate you! I hate this family! I'd run away and join the circus, but I hate the circus!"

My family's been on vacation this past week, and I've had the whole house all to myself. It's been weird. I don't have to shank anyone in order to get on the computer. I don't have to wake up at 8 and tell Jonathan to STOP JUMPING ON ONE FOOT RIGHT OVER MY ROOM. I can watch whatever movies I want without someone whining that some football teams are playing on some field somewhere. (The Rose Bowl? What on earth's that?) The house stays cleaner, smells nicer, and sounds better when my little brothers are gone.

But now that they're back, I don't know what I've done for entertainment for the past week. How have I lived without making fun of my tough brother who giggles like a pansy? Without lying to Jonathan about stupid things and seeing his innocent reaction? Without listening to Micah stumble through the words in the scriptures and pronouncing "flocks" like "flock-ez"?

Sure, now all the good food disappears before I can blink; the kitchen is a veritable wreck; I've already lost my temper twice; I've lost my freedom to come and go when I please. But for some reason, it hasn't gotten under my skin like it usually does.

Much as I complain, I kinda like 'em. *puts finger to lips* But shhhh. I let them think that I can't stand them.

Hell hath no fury...

My summer's been a wee bit dull. However, that's not the reason it's taken so long for me to post something. If I could describe myself in a word, it would be "lazy." I've had plenty of time to think of something clever or inspiring; I just haven't done it. Lots of things have happened that I could have written about; I just...didn't.

So it figures that it would take some real riling up to get me motivated. Today's rant, boys and girls, is brought to you by the letter "S," Johnson and Johnson (a family corporation), horny boys everywhere, and the Arthur Vining Davis foundation.

Maybe I'm being too harsh because I haven't been in the mind of a teenage boy. (By the way, I'm not condemning all teenage boys in this rant; just the ones who are morons. ) I suppose I'll never understand "locker room talk" or anything. I'm actually been okay with the way some boys talk about girls as long as it doesn't impact me or one of my friends.

Oh, but now that it has, I am about ready to bust some heads. You know the verse "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned"? Well, in my book there's one that says, "Hell hath no fury like one whose friend's virtue has been questioned by a moronic hormonal teenage boy." I haven't been this furious in a while.

I'm not going to post the whole story; just know that someone I'm close to has been insulted and hurt in the lowest degree by a smear of scum who has the impertinence to call itself "human." I've been talking to him, and he's been trying to tell me that it's just a big misunderstanding and arguing his case to me. And now I have a little insight into his mind.

I feel sorry for him. Sorry that he's ruined his chances with such a wonderful girl, as well as with anyone who's heard the story. Sorry that he couldn't distinguish between fantasy and reality. Sorry that he's giving the other boys his age a bad name because he couldn't control his hormones.

But most of all I'm sorry because he's going to get lynched by an angry mob of girls if he doesn't watch his back.

Saturday, June 21, 2008

Indiana Jones and the Undue Popularity

Everyone knows Indiana Jones. Even if you haven't seen the movies, who doesn't think of him when they see a whip or a brown fedora? And isn't the Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland one of everyone's favorites? (besides Pirates, but I'll get to that in a minute)

I've never really understood the whole fascination with Indiana. Maybe that's because I've only seen the first movie. So last night when my sister suggested that we watch "The Last Crusade," my reaction was, "Meh. Okay. Let's do it."

I still do not understand Indiana's popularity. The filmmakers rely too heavily on big exploding action sequences rather than actual plot. The plot is as follows; Indiana Jones is looking for the Holy Grail. Lots of things blow up, and he hooks up with a hot Austrian-Nazi chick. Nazi chick betrays him. He follows the Nazis into the desert. Lots of things blow up. They go into a random cliff-temple thing. Indiana Jones finds the Holy Grail. The bad guy dies. The Grail is lost to the world, and so is the Nazi chick. Things blow up.

Yeah, that's pretty much it. I guess I'm too much of a girl to appreciate the action sequences. I almost fell asleep during the dog fight between Indiana and the Nazis after he escapes from the zeppelin. I'm not a huge fan of hit-you-over-the-head action; I like suspense, like in murder mysteries. There's a difference between Indiana getting coshed by an unrealistic amount of bad guys (none of which come even close to beating him, despite the fact that there are 500 of them and one of him) and Phillip Durrant being stabbed in the base of the neck because he got too close to finding out who the murderer was (Ordeal by Innocence).

Or perhaps it's the lack of clever dialogue. My guess is that the script writer got brain damage halfway through production and the producers were too nice to fire him. It was awful. "That belongs in a MUSEUM!" That is the lamest catchphrase ever. I mean, I can understand if the golden cross was actually stolen from a museum, but the dudes just dug it up, for heck's sake. Who cares? And "Nazis. I hate those guys." Yeah, the hatred is kind of implied. Does anyone who paints Nazis as the bad guys genuinely like them? Of course not. Completely unnecessary.

I'm not against actions movies in general. I just have my standards. I LOVE Pirates of the Caribbean. It's clever and thrilling. (Although Orlando Bloom is the one bad casting job; his main acting abilities consist of whispering and shouting.) The Italian Job is one of my favorites because it's not just brainless explosions; it's explosions coupled with quick-witted characters.

Would anyone care to explain Indie's popularity to me? I just don't get it.

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Yo en Tres

I don't normally do those lame-o tagging things, but since I have nothing of importance to write, I might as well. This one is called, "Me in Three." (or "yo en tres" for all my Spanglish amigos.) Apparently I'm supposed to list 3 joys, 3 fears, 3 goals, 3 current obsessions/collections, 3 random surprising facts about yourself.

1) Laughing (whether at clever jokes, stupid people, or my sister Brooke after 9; it makes no difference to me)
2) Sarcasm (the devil's language, but oh-so wonderful)
3) Acting! (I love performing so much that it's probably unhealthy.)

1) Failure.
2) Accidentally killing someone I love. (like running over them or not being able to donate a kidney)
3) Getting a debilitating disease that makes me a vegetable. (pull the plug, people!)

1) Going to a university on the East coast.
2) Being on Broadway at least once.
3) Getting married to a guy who's hot, smart, and socially competent and having lots of little girls.

Current obsessions/hobbies:
1) I'm currently working on my caricature/likeness skills with Sharpie and poster board. I'm getting pretty good.
2) Uglies.
3) Learning Italian.

Random (and perhaps surprising) facts about myself:
1) I don't have my appendix or tonsils.
2) My middle fingers are crooked.
3) I love looking at things. My room is plastered with posters and pictures.

If there is anything else you would like to know, please contact my secretary, Senor Cardgage, on the way out.

(Disclaimer: Senor Cardgage may or may not give a vague or nonsensical answer.)

Monday, June 9, 2008

Things I Learned on Vacation

Hello, faithful, few readers. As some of you may or may not have known, I have just spent six days in lovely southern California with five of my brothers and my parents. It was an ordeal I will not soon forget.

Being the staunch student I am (hahaha), I continually look about me for life's lessons. And here they are, in all their glory!

1) Seaweed is five hundred times heavier than it looks. You'd think coz it floats that it'd be easy to pick up and launch at unsuspecting younger brothers, wouldn't you? Oh, no. I grabbed a gob and tried strangle Jonathan, but the lad just laughed and ran away while I lugged the wad which weighed approximately the same as a baby elephant. Lesson learned: you can't commit murder with seaweed unless it's an unsuspecting sunbather and you have killer biceps.

2) There is no such thing as too much Tally Youngblood. (See my Uglies post) I reread the series on the trip and found myself using Tally-Shay vocab. (Example: The beach was really cold on the first day and when I first got in, it was exhilarating. When I got out, however, I found myself saying, "There comes a point when cold isn't bubbly anymore; just warmth-missing.")

3) It makes more sense to talk to seagulls than brothers sucked into the Gameboy zone. You can at least pretend the seagulls are listening; you know the brothers are not.

4) Taking your pants off in the ocean is lots easier than putting them back on. I had this weird rash on my legs from the salt water and my board shorts chaffing, so finally I said "To heck with modesty!" and pulled them off. When I went to get out of the water, I decided that modesty was probably a good thing and tried to put them back on. Yeah, not so easy.

5) In 'n' Out burgers are highly overrated. 'Nuff said.

6) Few things feel as good as a nice, hot 50 cent shower.
My family doesn't believe that the trashy parking-lot-campground-wannabe showers actually cranked out anything more than lukewarm water, but I always got the steaming variety. Mmmm.... so good...

7) Wal-Mart does indeed sell modest swimwear...even in California.

8) Sand has the nasty habit of getting into everything, kind of like a toddler.
Only it's more annoying. And gross. But at least sand won't pull your pots and pans out of the cupboard.

Well, it's time to go sleep in an actual bed instead of a too-short seat in the family ghetto bus. Woot woot! I am livin' large!

Sunday, June 1, 2008

The Follow-Up Story

(This is Bel Canto. We are wearing awesome dresses with tags that say "Trashy Diva.")

As you all probably know, I am not dead. Huzzah! Mrs. Steinmann was okay with the whole thing; in fact, she told me that she was glad I hadn't told her beforehand because she would've said no and the audience wouldn't have liked "Big Spender" as much. I poked my head in her office after school and said, "Can we still be friends and will you sign my yearbook?" She wrote:

"I'm so so so so a million times happy that you joined choir. Plus I really like you as a person. Just consider how harmful smoking is to your health. -Frau Steinmann"

Hee hee. I'm glad she's not one of those super uptight teachers. Those can be such a drag.

Blech. Speaking of drags (and, no, I don't meant the cigarette variety), school is officially out and I could not possibly be any more depressed. I mean, look at these people! They're crazy! A perfect fit!

Awww, I love these guys. I guess I'll just have to go cruising with them or something...

PS- Feast and Ball stuff is coming; I just have to get pictures from various sources.