Dad

Dad in high school

Several years ago, one of my favorite blogs dedicated their daily posts to fathers (sorry link is not currently working). Each woman had another unique and beautiful perspective on their own fathers or the ones in their lives. Those posts inspired me to write one about my own dad. And what better day to do it, than in honor of my dad's 78th birthday?

Dad, his sister Marva and his brother Jay

Duane Lyman Bishop grew up in Salt Lake City, UT, born several years after the Great Depression, but into a time that was still strongly feeling the effects thereof. His parents were hard-working, industrious and profoundly faithful people who determinedly raised their 10 children to believe as they did. They were strict about the rules and although they did not have much money, theirs was a house rich with love. I never got the impression from Dad or his stories that they ever really wanted for anything of significance.

According to Dad's stories, in fact, his childhood was a constant adventure. His left-handedness was the cause of repeated mishaps and injuries (and later scars) and the source of my favorite "Dad" stories. He has, of course, many other stories. There's the one where Dad & some of his siblings decided to use oil-based brown paint to paint a little toy boat and got it EVERYWHERE in Grandma's clean house and all over their nice Sunday clothes. There's the one where he used his mother's best sheets to see if he could fly off the roof. The one where he was disciplined by a substitute teacher for humming in class by being shut in a closet.  In retaliation, he found a rope and tied the door closed from the inside and refused to answer to her knocks and pleas until he was "rescued" by the fire department who had to remove the door from its hinges to let him out.  Hahaha!  I still love that one.


Dad has always had a great love of music, specifically classical and opera. Because he was always playing classical music in the car, one of Dad's favorite games was to quiz his children "Okay, what's playing, who wrote it and when was it written?"  9 times out of 10 we would make some lame attempt that involved Mozart or Beethoven.  To our delight, we were more often right than deserved.  Dad's love of opera, I think, heavily influenced my own love of story. Much like my cherished memories of listening to Mom read me books as a little girl, one of my favorite memories is of listening to opera with Dad and having him tell me the dramatic and often tragic stories behind the beautiful music.  Some of my earliest memories included the opera Carmen by Georges Bizet and Tosca by Giacomo Puccini.

Dad has always been the best counselor. Serving as bishop to the congregation of our Latter-day Saint ward (congregation) for more than seven years, he was a source of strength, support, counsel, love, dedication and service to many more than just myself.  As my dad, he was the one I called for advice or comfort, especially when I was first away at school.  Even over the phone, he always had a way of making me feel like things would be alright.

Dad has always loved games and introduced us all to lots of different games like Panjandrum, and Tuxedo.  He tried to teach me chess as a little girl, but that one didn't stick.  (Sorry, Dad!)  He loved Trivial Pursuit and used to carry stacks of cards around in his pocket so that he could quiz himself at a moment's notice, if he ever had down time.  In fact, I remember seeing him reach into his shirt pocket a time or two to quiz himself during Sacrament Meeting!  Well, at least he was learning something, right?  Dad never shows mercy when it comes to strategy games.  This was a source of major frustration as a kid (Who am I kidding?  I still find it frustrating!), but it taught me how to be a little more cutthroat and crafty when I play games.  This has come in quite handy with my favorite game of Carcassonne -  a game I think I've gotten Dad hooked on too.  I now realize this could be both good news and rather frustrating news.  Hmmm.  Maybe I should have reconsidered...  Nah!

Dad is one of my very favorite people in the world.  He is absolutely one of the very best people that I know.  Happy birthday, Daddles.  I am proud to have you as my father, my counselor, and my friend.  I love you very much.

This song is a bit sappy, but the sentiment definitely hits the right spot for me.  You'll always be my father and I'll always be your joy.  (Well, one of them.)

The Mightiest Sword

I've been discussing this post with a good friend of mine for several days. She just posted her thoughts here. I highly recommend that you read them. I would almost just like to say amen to her post and call it good. Alas, I do have some thoughts of my own to add.

Forgiveness has been weighing heavily on my mind lately. I think it's interesting that both my friend and I found inspiration in Broadway songs. Hers came from Les Miserable and mine, a song entitled "Forgiveness", comes from the musical version of Jane Eyre. The following lines have been on near constant repeat in my head:

Forgiveness is the mightiest sword...
You must never lose faith
You must never lose heart
God will restore your trust
And I know you're afraid
I'm as scared as you are
But willing to be brave
Brave enough for love

Those lines paint so many images in my mind; the image of forgiveness being a sword that restores one's own power, the image of God restoring a person's trust by mending a broken heart, and the image of someone bravely forging ahead to seek love. All are simultaneously compelling and sweet.

Making ourselves vulnerable to pain and disappointment has always been a part of life. I can't say that it's ever been my favorite part, but I think I've always been pretty cognizant that it is an unavoidable and even desirable part of human relationships. I mean what's the point of relationships (and I don't just mean romantic relationships) if no one takes any risks right? And some of the most powerful lessons I have learned in my life have come as a result of that kind of disappointment. I would never trade those lessons, even if I also wouldn't choose to relive the painful bits.

At church on Sunday, I was impressed to get up and bear my testimony. I stood and looked out at the congregation and realized that I had no idea what I was supposed to say. I knew that whatever it was, it had to do w/ forgiveness, but I had no idea how to formulate my feelings into coherent thoughts. Thankfully, I had a printed copy of a talk I had recently read (and re-read, and re-read) by President James E. Faust that expressed what I could not. It's entitled "The Healing Power of Forgiveness". I had listened to it several days before and it could not have been more perfectly what I needed. The link to the entire article is here , but let me just share the part that I read to the congregation.

“'Forgiveness is freeing up and putting to better use the energy once consumed by holding grudges, harboring resentments, and nursing unhealed wounds. It is rediscovering the strengths we always had and relocating our limitless capacity to understand and accept other people and ourselves.'

Most of us need time to work through pain and loss. We can find all manner of reasons for postponing forgiveness. One of these reasons is waiting for the wrongdoers to repent before we forgive them. Yet such a delay causes us to forfeit the peace and happiness that could be ours. The folly of rehashing long-past hurts does not bring happiness.

Some hold grudges for a lifetime, unaware that courageously forgiving those who have wronged us is wholesome and therapeutic.

Forgiveness comes more readily when...we have faith in God and trust in His word. Such faith “enables people to withstand the worst of humanity. It also enables people to look beyond themselves. More importantly, it enables them to forgive.”

...If we can find forgiveness in our hearts for those who have caused us hurt and injury, we will rise to a higher level of self-esteem and well-being...Their example of forgiveness is a sublime expression of Christian love."

And so it comes back to the idea of seeking love again. Christ is our ultimate example. He experienced EVERY kind of betrayal, injury, disappointment, loss and sorrow that mankind has ever and will ever have to endure, and still He loves us. One sentiment I expressed in my testimony that I did not fully realize before, was just how far-reaching the act of forgiveness can be in finding that love and in salving our wounds. It's really easy to assume that forgiveness is solely for the transgressor's repentance, but that's only one narrow point of view. I hadn't yet seen how much I needed to forgive not only others, but also to seek forgiveness for myself. And until I could do all of these things, I really was forfeiting my peace and happiness. I kept rehashing. As soon as the wound began to heal, I would pick at it, poke at it, until it began to bleed all over again. And because of that, I became weaker.

I'm not certain that I've fully achieved everything that Pres. Faust talks about, but I know that I am progressing toward it. Right now it is still a constant battle. I have to remind myself daily to forgive. I have to remind myself not to forfeit the peace and happiness of knowing that God loves me and that He loves those who have injured me. I'm working toward that kind of love. I have to plead daily for that kind of humility. Some days I feel like I've found it and others I find that I have to trudge back up that hill a little ways. Some days I wake up and I feel like John Breen, a fifteen-year-old survivor of the pioneer Donner party, when he had finally made it to safety after months of starvation and incredible suffering. The images he creates with his impression of the ranch he came to on that first morning are the most powerful images for me in this very image-laden blog post. "The weather was fine, the ground was covered with green grass, the birds were singing from the tops of the trees, and the journey was over."

I have hope that this particular journey or battle will soon be over, replaced by a great feeling of love. I have faith that I will get to the point when I can see the green grass and hear the birds sing and feel the sun on my face every morning. I believe that God will restore my trust. And ya know what? I am willing to be brave enough for love.

A Little Boob-tube Therapy pt. 1

Here is a post that I originally began on 09/29/08. I'll be following this up w/ my current TV therapy. Remember the ones listed below were from 2008. What are some of your favorite shows to unwind to?

Because I'm so busy this semester and dealing w/ a fair amount of stress, I thought I'd detail for you what is, I realize, a very silly post. Trust me - this is purely for therapeutic purposes. Between work, school, homework, internship, my church calling and the stake play, I have very little time to decompress, but when I do, it's usually to the tune of some TV show that I watch online. Come on. You have your own television distractions too, admit it.

Because not every show has premiered yet this season, here are a few of my current distractions...followed by a few of my ongoing distractions.

Psych - If you haven't watched this show yet, it's one you can jump into at any point and still enjoy fully. I haven't found clever, funny, truly laugh out loud writing like this since the early days of Gilmore Girls. In fact, this is kind of like Gilmore Girls for guys....uhhhh, kinda. And it doesn't hurt that Shawn and Gus are equally adorable.

Burn Notice - Another show that is a mere distraction. It's a little deeper than Psych, but still formulaic and simple enough to follow. It's really only slightly weightier material, but still has a good amount of humor. And again...it's led by a pretty face. Are you seeing a trend here? Hey, it's my therapy, okay?

Chuck - Yet another light-weight show, centering around an average guy caught up in above average circumstances. Dialogue isn't as clever as other shows like Psych, but the characters, twists, and ultimately the actors keep me coming back for more. Plus, it's got a lot of humor and it's relatively innocent - which is refreshing w/ all the trash on TV right now. And yeah, you guessed it. THIS is another big draw for me. (I mean, for the LOVE! Wow, he's a beautiful boy!) So I have a thing for tall, lerpy, brunettes, okay?

The Office - Classic. Season 5 has just started, but it's already off to a great start! Humor and silliness abounds.

Heroes - (Insert added 2011. I have no idea what I would have written here three years ago, but I think I was on my way out with this show. Heroes had a BRILLIANT first season, followed by an alright second season aaaaand then it rapidly spiraled out of control. I went back to reacquaint myself w/ Season 3 from 2008 and I don't remember much at all, so I'm guessing this is about the time I jumped ship. Such a great idea. So convoluted and ugggggghhhhh. Enough said.)

Pushing Daisies (I bought Season 1 on DVD and I've been enjoying every last bite - of the show and of this guy. Sigh. Oh, and the new season premieres this week.) [Insert added 2011 - Adorable, light and joyous show. Unfortunately, it jumped the shark in season 2 and was thusly canceled.]

Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles (Insert added 2011. I know, I know. It's just what you think it is and it is admittedly both more intriguing than you might expect and just as cheesy as you might expect. The show ended getting canceled early. Go figure.)

Eureka (A perfectly enjoyable diversion, without a lot of complicated plot developments. It's both humorous and sweet. This is definitely geeky, quirky, clean, and funny. While it's got plenty of deaths, the show always seems to end on a positive note.)

Battlestar Galactica - (Insert added 2011. I'm just saying if you haven't watched this show....whoa. Okay, this is NOT for everyone. It has some VERY racy scenes that I highly recommend you fast forward or watch on a clean flick dvd player, but it also has some really deep correlations to the gospel. So this is a remake of that incredibly cheesy 70s/80s TV series and creator of the original show was (not sure if he still is) a member of the LDS church. So some of the mythology surrounding the show is kind of awesomely steeped in Latter-day Saint theology. Also, for those afraid of science fiction, rest assured that this is very light on the "beep-boop" components so prevalent in many ridiculous science fiction shows. So yeah. It's kind of great...aside from the icky sex scenes. Justification much? Hmph.)

Lost - (Insert added 2011. Do I really need to say anything about this show? Well, I could, but so much has already been said about it that I just don't feel that I need to make my own contribution. Suffice it to say I love the show. I'm still not sure how I feel about the way it all ended, but I'm really glad that it did. It was betimes simultaneously brilliant and incredibly frustrating, but I have a soft spot in my heart for it all the same.)

Never Forget

Ten years ago I was in German class at BYU where my teacher was trying to explain the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center in German. I remember being confused because I didn't fully understand the vocabulary she was using and even when she drew pictures on the board of the twin towers and airplanes, I was still confused. I hadn't been listening to the news or anything before going to class that morning. A classmate in front of me turned around and explained what had happened to me in English. Directly after this class, I was scheduled to attend Russian, but classes were suspended. My classmate and I went to a media center in the JKHB (as it was) and immediately tuned into the news. We watched as the towers fell in complete shock. I believe I was in such shock that I don't really remember feeling anything. Although most of that day was a blur, I can still remember that I went to work at the MTC that day and told my elders about what had been going on. The mother of one of my elders was a flight attendant and he had no idea where she was at that moment. He was understandably concerned. Thankfully, we later learned that she was alright. I don't remember much else, but I do remember ending up at home and sitting for hours in front of the television watching the coverage of the attacks. It wasn't until that point that I learned that there had been separate attacks on the Pentagon and the crash of United Airlines Flight 93 crash in Pennsylvania and the gravity of what had happened that day began to sink in. It wasn't until that point that the tears started flowing. Days later I had reached maximum saturation from being glued to the television coverage of the attack.

Certainly this experience affected me profoundly. Initially it created an enormous sense of fear and uncertainty, even living in far away Utah, and I felt heartbreak for those who had died or been injured and all of their families. Ultimately it engendered a deep feeling of pride in the way the nation came together. Never before had I experienced such a swelling of respect and pride for the United States of America. Say what you will about President George W. Bush and his administration, but I was and am so grateful for the way he led our country in the days surrounding this tragedy. In the years since 2001, I have gained an even greater respect for the men and women working to defend our freedom and protect our country. May Heavenly Father continue to bless them and bring them home safely.

Now living in the DC area, observing the 10th anniversary of such a terrible day is even more poignant. I love living here. I love feeling that same sense of unity with my fellow citizens when walking around DC on any given day, but especially during this significant anniversary. Some have asked if I feel frightened living here when this area is under such heightened security from more terror threats, but as odd as this might be, I have never felt safer. Considering the heightened awareness and precautions (near the Pentagon, the police were pulling over and inspecting all semi-trucks), I feel like there really isn't a safer place I could be. Where were you on 9/11/2001? What are your thoughts as we remember 10 years later?

I pray for the protection of my brothers and sisters defending our freedoms. I pray that we might seek peace and understanding instead of greater division and hatred. I'll let Tiny Tim take us out with his Christmas wish, "God bless us, every one!"

Happy Anniversary!

Okay, so here is the oldest of my un-posted, unfinished entries. This was dated 9/9/08 and is now almost exactly three years old. My how time flies. I find it funny that I didn't just go ahead and post it as is. I mean, I know that I really wanted to find some significant highlights to include for each year and possibly include some pictures, but come on Christina. Hmph. Also, I just realized that I have none of my mission pictures in digital format, so I wouldn't have been able to include them anyway. Hmmm, new project to look forward to, perhaps? Anyway, I don't know if this one is terribly exciting, but enjoy it anyway!

It has been ten years since the day I entered the MTC to serve a mission. Weird. Am I really that old? Piffle. Ooo. I just said piffle. Dangit, I guess I really am that old. Sigh. Well, Happy Anniversary, Rachelle and Heather (my two MTC companions), wherever you may be today!

Here are few highlights of the last 10 years of my life:

1998:

• Completed 1st semester at BYU after transferring from Ricks College - most miserable semester of my life.
  
• Submitted mission application and waited 7 weeks to receive mission call
• Learned I was going to the Lithuania Vilnius Mission, Latvian-speaking
• September 9, 1998 entered the MTC in Provo, UT, where I learned the language, the gospel and how hard missionary work was going to be
  
• November 11, 1998 arrived in Latvia - didn't understand very much
• 1st Christmas in Latvia filled w/ lots of new traditions, songs and food. Not long after, I threw up on a trolleybus. (One of my favorite stories...remind me to tell you about it sometime.)
  

1999:

• First baptism in February of 1998 - Trainer, Sister Jamison, and I witnessed two young girls (Kristīne Baradovska & Liene Meiere) and an older lady (Lidija Tarabukina) that we had taught, join The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, through the waters of baptism.
• Learned A LOT of Latvian and continued teaching myself Latvian Sign Language from a small picture dictionary. Began to interpret for the Deaf family in the branch in Rīga (Bērgmaņi).
• Witnessed several more baptisms from teaching - many of them resulting from 6 week companionship w/ Rachelle: Sanita Janovska, Skaidrīte Bokuma, Evita Janovska, Dzintra Leonoviča.
  

2000:

• Witnessed several more baptisms: Hildegarde Brauna, Anda Saulīte, Zane Finstere, & Santa Lieģe. A couple that happened after I went home were Aija Vismiņa and Antra Gundarina.
  
• Returned home honorably from serving in Latvia.
• Began teaching at the MTC and started back at BYU again in the Linguistics program.
  

2001:

• Returned to Latvia with my former companion, Rachelle. We visited all of our wonderful Latvian friends. We met up with another former missionary, Kelly Draper, rented a car and drove up to Tallin, Estonia to see what they had to offer. Gorgeous medieval town with very nice people! We also attended the Latvian Song and Dance Festival that only happens once every 5 years. This was one of the most amazing concerts that I've ever attended (or series of concerts, I should say). We got to see our friend Agrita and a few others perform in that massive, massive gathering. I also got to hear Vaira Vīķe-Freiberga speak. I kind of thought that was cool, since she was the first female president of Latvia and the first female leader in Eastern Europe.
  

2002:

• I volunteered to help with the Olympic Winter Games in Salt Lake City. I worked with the Latvian team, but mostly just hung out in the Olympic Village chatting it up w/ some of the managers of the hockey team or wandering around trading pins w/ other teams. I did, however, get to go see the bobsleigh team compete. That was exciting for the first 12 seconds, which is about all I saw from our position at the beginning of the track. But hey, I was THERE!
  

2003:

• Graduated from BYU w/ a Bachelor of Arts in Linguistics, Minor in TESOL.
• Began working full-time at the Harold B. Lee Library at BYU as the Humanities Department Assistant. So many good memories here!
  

2004:

• I got engaged and unengaged.
• I'm sure there were some other significant things that happened this year, but I can't recall what they are at the moment.
  

2005:

• I traveled with two of my best friends Marin and Andrea to NYC, Paris, London, Venice, and Florence. It was a truly glorious trip! Too many adventures to name...girls, you know what we did. :)
  

2006:

• Applied and got accepted George Mason University to start Masters program
• Moved across the country to Alexandria, VA to begin a Masters program in Folklore at George Mason University.
  

2007:

• I bought my first new car that wasn't a pimped out Nissan Sentra. Woot! Love my Toyota Corolla!
  

2008:

• Traveled to Puerto Rico w/ some awesome friends and had some great adventures in spite of the fact that all of our planned activities were foiled by a tropical storm. So instead of swimming in the bio luminescent bay, we rented a van and drove around trying to find beaches that weren't too treacherous to hang out on, all the while singing Disney songs at the tops of our lungs.
  

An Exercise in Humility

Do not adjust your computer screen. I'm actually posting something to my blog. I know. I nearly had a heart attack too. I was just discussing blogs w/ a friend of mine who is a successful blogger. Not only is his blog interesting and varied, but he's consistent with his follow-through. Impressive. Maybe that's not so impressive to you, but to me? I'm obviously not as good at that part. So when he was asked whether I had a blog, I shamefully hung my head and mumbled (or I would have mumbled if we had been speaking face to face), "I have a blog but haven't written in years." As it turns out, it's only been like a year and a half, but still. He felt that I'd write interesting things. Very flattering. I explained that I often have these ideas for something interesting and I'll start writing a post, but because I want it to be perfect, perfect, perfect, I stall...and then it never gets posted. This got me thinking. Maybe I should just take all the posts I've already started and post them as is - as an act in humility.

Heh. I just went back and read through my unposted entries. This could be kind of fun. So. Prepare yourselves. I'll make sure to include when the post would have originally been published. I may also add a little something, but for the most part, I'm going to try not to alter the original state in which it currently resides. And as an act in consistency, I'm going to start out with posting one/week, unless I feel inclined to post more than that. I'm going to commit to the weekly post and then go from there, k? K.

Hee-YA!

I know just about everyone has seen all of these commercials and the genius BYU parody, but honestly, how can I pass up posting these gems?

You may remember this magnificent marketing campaign for Old Spice beginning with this:



and following up with this:



Well, the Harold B. Lee Library at BYU decided to get in on the action and produced this brilliant version of their own.



It makes me miss working at the HBLL. Especially because A. they have guys that good-looking roaming the stacks, and B. they finally implemented a "snack zone". So unfair that I missed out on both!

One more thing. These commercials are getting so much attention, that CBS News even picked up on the phenomenon and gave BYU a little face time. Sweet!

Mom

So I was sitting in church today, thinking about the lesson I had prepared to teach the Young Women on the importance of writing in a journal and the fact that it was Mother's Day. What better way to combine both than to write about my own mother in my journal? I began making a list of some of the things I love about my Mom and decided that it was too important not to share. Keep in mind that this is not an exhaustive list, but it does cover some key things.

• I love her faith and testimony of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. Her quiet, firm foundation in the gospel is evident in everything she does and says and in the way she serves her family and others in her neighborhood.
• I love her love of family. Family always comes first. She prays for all of us each day and thinks of ways to reach out and help us.
• I love the way she loves her grandchildren. Watching her read a story to, bake cookies with, or create an art project for one of my nieces or nephews is one of the sweetest things ever!
• I love her love of family history and her determination to acquaint her children with our ancestors.
  
• I love her creativity - painting, sewing/quilting, crafts and doodling. I always love seeing the doodles she creates while on the phone w/ someone. Mom, I wonder if you know what a wonderful artist you are?
• I love her love of reading, good storytelling, and learning. Thanks to her, I grew to love reading too and to pursue my education as far as I have. One of my very first memories ever is of her reading me stories. It is also one of my sweetest. I still find listening to her voice reading to be one of the most comforting and beautiful things I can imagine.
  
• I love her physical beauty. My mother is simply lovely.
• I love her hands. There is something comforting and familiar about her hands and what they have been used to do over the years. They have been used to cook, comfort, wipe away tears, cuddle, create countless art projects, edit countless school papers, bake bread, cookies, brownies, prepare innumerable meals (many of them far under-appreciated), pin, hem, sew everything from pants to prom dresses, and so much more. I find them inexpressibly beautiful. I love that when they are at rest they are still always carrying memory, experience, and love.
  
• I love her for her faith in me. She has always had the ability to see some things more clearly than I - whether that was regarding my serving a mission or not or whether or not I could complete my Masters program. She always believed I could do it and always encouraged me beyond my own insecurities and sense of failure. She always prayed for me by name.
  
• I love her for her patience with me. Sometimes I feel endlessly needy - especially throughout my Masters program, constantly seeking her skills as an editor at all hours of the night and she was always there.
  
• I love her love for me. It is kind of hard not to love someone who loves you and I think I've already given enough proof that my Mom loves me very much. But the simple fact that she loves me is enough for me to love her back.

Lois Anne Whitaker Bishop, I love you forever. Happy Mother's Day!

Did you wish your Mom a Happy Mother's Day? What do you love about her?

Mary, to the Savior's Tomb

Listening to our prophet, President Thomas S. Monson, speak about the resurrection and the reason we celebrate this glorious Easter holiday reminded me of a special song written by my great grandfather, Albert R. Lyman. It is entitled, "Mary, to the Savior's Tomb".

Mary, to the Savior's tomb hastened at the early dawn.
Spice she brought and sweet perfume, but the Lord she loved had gone.
For a while she ling'ring stood, filled with sorrow and surprise,
trembling while the crystal flood issued from her weeping eyes.

But her sorrows quickly fled, when she heard his welcome voice.
"Christ is risen from the dead and he bid your soul rejoice!"
What a change His words can make!
Turning darkness into day!
Ye who weep for Jesus' sake, He will wipe your tears away.

Amen.

Happy Easter, everyone!

Panacea Playlist

A week ago, a friend of mine invited me to act as guest blogger to a collaborative blog called Setlist Society to which he regularly contributes. How flattering! I mean, it's not like I contribute that often to my own blog, but being asked to guest blog? Well, that's just might be enough to actually get me to write something! For those unfamiliar w/ the Setlist Society, the rules are that each week a new theme is chosen and throughout that week, each contributor must submit his/her musical realization of that theme in the form of a setlist. The setlist, however, must A. be no longer than an 80 min. cd, B. come from music you actually own, and C. must be submitted w/in the week. So, honored w/ the task of blogging AND choosing the week's theme, I dove right in. Enjoy! (Be sure to check out the Setlist Society's earlier themes too. I've been introduced (and reintroduced) to some great music thanks to these fine folks! Scroll down for the week's theme, followed by my post or simply go here to read/hear it.

Ya know when you've had the day or week from hell and you feel like screaming, crying, shaving your head and joining a monastery, punching something (or someone), or just going to sleep for a long, long time? You, my friends, are not alone. If you're anything like me, you may occasionally feel like wallowing in all that self-pity, frustration, and sorrow. Other times you have so much anger or frustrated energy that you need help releasing it. Time for a little music therapy with the perfect panacea playlist! Let's hear yours. Who are your musical shamans? No one is the same, so I'm looking forward to a group of setlists as broad and varied as the emotional spectrum. Let's dance/sing/scream it out.

After a series of weeks of frustration, disappointment, stress, heartache and sadness, things are finally looking up. Ahhhhh. Thank goodness. Thanks, specifically, to the music I turned to for a little symphonic soothing. While a hellish week might suggest angry chick rock to one and mopey emo tunes to another, as a musical panacea for all that ails me this go 'round, I've really craved a gradual progression from beautifully melancholy to happily peppy songs. Follow my progression thusly, won't you? Look below the widget to read about my explanations for choosing each song.



"Both Sides Now" from Hits by Joni Mitchell - If you've ever seen "Love Actually", you will also remember the scene where Emma Thompson listens to this song alone in her bedroom after realizing that her husband is cheating on her. Thompson's heartbreaking performance coupled w/ Joni's mournful song...well, if you haven't seen it, it says it all.

"What Happens When the Heart Just Stops" from Strict Joy (Deluxe Edition) by The Swell Season (originally written/performed by The Frames) - I just love the last 2 lines - "There's a bad bone inside of me. All my troubles started there." The lyrics of this entire song are perfect, actually. I've definitely had this one on repeat in the last few weeks. I love you, Glen.

"Hallelujah" from Grace (Legacy Edition) by Jeff Buckley - Heartbreaking, slow, and beautiful. Amen.

"Fake Plastic Trees" from The Bends by Radiohead - This song has always made me kind of weep inside. Perfect for the days when you're feeling like weeping on the outside too.

"Breakable" from Girls and Boys by Ingrid Michaelson - Picking up tempo here. Simple lyrics, but easily very relatable. And sometimes I feel like a breakable girl.

"Way I Am" from The American by Martin Sexton - Progressing into the feel good section here. Martin's voice does things for me that penicillin never will.

"The Flower Duet" from Lakme by Leo Delibes - Mmmmm. Close your eyes and listen to this one. I actually can't listen to this duet without involuntarily closing my eyes.

"O mio babbino caro" from Gianni Schicchi by Giacomo Puccini - Transportation to a beautiful place...probably Italy. This may or may not have something to do w/ the movie "A Room With A View".

"Somewhere Over the Rainbow" from Alone in IZ World by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole - No matter how many times you've heard this one, tell me it doesn't make you smile.

"Sweet Disposition" from (500) Days of Summer Soundtrack by Temper Trap - The opening of this song forces my eyes closed and utterly transports me. As silly as it might sound, it makes me feel like I'm floating. I love that.

"This Too Shall Pass" from Of the Blue Colour of the Sky by OkGo - Because every so often we need full, orchestral reminders that this too SHALL pass! Also, if you've never seen the most recent video for this song...it is pure genius and will add another smile to your face.

"Little Secrets" from Manners by Passion Pit - Just a few weeks ago when I was having a really rotten day, a friend shared this one with me and it instantly made me smile from the inside out...and may have poured out of my eyes a little bit.

"Bohemian Rhapsody" from Classic Queen by Queen - Entering the "sing along as loud as you can" section! I dare you to try NOT to sing along!

"Island in the Sun" from Weezer [Green Album] by Weezer - I thought of including any number of other Weezer songs, but I just really loved the feeling of being on a holiday. Go ahead. Take a musical holiday from your problems for 3 minutes and 20 seconds.

"Lollipop" from Life in Cartoon Motion by Mika - Jared, thanks for reminding me of this song. I love it and I love Mika's infectious peppiness. Also, this has some pretty apt lyrics.

"Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa" from Vampire Weekend by Vampire Weekend - VW never fails to infuse me with some much needed pep and feelgoodery. I could have included Paul Simon, because he often has the same effect, but I thought I'd give VW a shout out.

"Diner" from Black Sheep by Martin Sexton - Because Martin is just too good NOT to include twice. And doesn't this happy little ditty make you start moving in your chair or beating your knee/desk along w/ the beat?

"Chelsea Morning" from Hits by Joni Mitchell - The worst is over and you can wake up to your own Chelsea Morning. Who doesn't want to feel the sun pour in like butterscotch and stick to all your senses? Mmmm. Thank you, Joni, for being able to express my melancholy and my happiness!

"Here Comes the Sun" from Abbey Road by The Beatles - Cue The Beatles. Joni asked for the sun and here it comes.

Are you smiling yet? You should be.

Snowmageddon, Snow-pocalypse, SnOMG...Oh snow they di-in't!

So where were you when the Great Winter Storm of 2010 struck? Why, I was right there in my house...where I then stayed for the next six days (and then some). [deadpan] Boy, it was fun.

Is anyone as tired as I am of hearing about, looking at, thinking about, shoveling up, or dreaming of the snow? Yeah. It is everyone's pet topic on the east coast and the amount of snow we've received in such a short amount of time that it's caused nearly everyone to react thusly. Seriously. There is no better word to describe the general reaction to all the snow than panic. From the general frenzy witnessed in nearly every grocery store in the area beginning last week Wednesday, one would have thought we were preparing ourselves for the end of the world. Picture going to your local store and finding the shelves cleared out of milk, bread, fresh produce and snacks with check out lines from here to kingdom come! Now picture every hardware and convenience store sold out of shovels and rock salt for the rest of history and you'll have the prevailing hysteria that has swept this part of the country.

Well, after the first onslaught of snow last weekend, it was on for real and considering the fact that nearly every county in Virginia has already overspent their snow removal budget for the year, it wasn't looking good that we would be going anywhere anytime soon. So here I sit...after six days of being home, shoveling A LOT of snow, baking/cooking a lot of food with my roommate(s) (but mostly just Becca since the other two jumped ship), sleeping...and perfecting my techniques on precisely how to be lazy. With so many days of snow, work/school cancellations, and involuntary house arrest at least we can say that we set some records! Highest snowfall for the DC Metropolitan area. 55 INCHES!! Well, hallelujah! For all our troubles, at least we made history.

And now for some visuals.










































































If you're interested in watching the rapid accumulation of Snow-pocalypse Part I, click here.


Proof that the snow wasn't just invasive, but also really lovely. For anyone who wants to see more pictures (complete w/ descriptions) feel free to check out my picasa pics here.

We'll Bring the World Our Truth

No. This isn't a missionary blog post...although if I knew what was good for me, it would be. But no. I feel this has to be addressed.

I was recently having a discussion with a friend about a most disconcerting trend that is slowly taking over our collective consciousness. I, myself, am not immune. Upon making this realization, I posed the question to my friend, "When will the madness end?!" and he responded, "They won't stop until the entire earth is covered."

That made me think of the glorious, albeit singular and ambitious work of environmental artists Christo and Jeanne-Claude, who frequently cover large edifices or landscapes in fabric.


What could we possibly be discussing, you ask? What else? Snuggies, of course! Now, let me be perfectly clear. I love Snuggies. I purchased two for my parents as Christmas gifts last year and two for myself. Admittedly, the two for myself were an unintentional purchase, but (and I think my roommates will concur) they are fantastic! They are every bit as cozy and warm and snuggly as advertised. Inane, though they are, the Snuggie really is useful.

What concerns me is the craze that has been spreading rapidly behind this phenomenon or, dare I say, movement. Hm...concerns may be too strong a word...but I don't know of an adjective that simultaneously means concerned and amused. (Wordsmiths? A little help?) Come to think of it...add awed to that word too. Snuggies started out as just your average informercial marketing scheme, a la the Bumpit, the Ab Rocket, and the Bedazzler. (I'm not necessarily endorsing any of these products, but if they want to send me free stuff for advertising for them, how could I refuse?) After only a very short time span, Snuggies had sold over 4 million units and had a waiting list for people who wanted their Snuggies. In fact, my parents and I had to wait about a month or more before our Snuggies arrived! So, okay. Kudos to them. Way to go, little entrepreneur! But now the growing product line is getting a little more disturbing. Follow the trend here, will you?

We began with this:



And then we came to this:



(Who can argue with the genius of such dialogue: "Just put, put, PUT your arms through and see what you can do!" or my personal favorite "Don't bug me. I'm wearin' my Snuggie!")

What's next? The only natural conclusion, of course, is this:



I'm not sure who was/is in charge of the script-writing, direction, etc. for these infomercials, but in my opinion they were just begging to either inspire a cult following or to be spoofed. I mean, come on now. Whose idea was it to have a kid doing the macarena? All joking aside, you really do have to hand it to the entrepreneurs behind this craze. They have obviously embraced the kitsch-factor and run with it all the way to the bank! And you have to have a pretty healthy sense of humor to hold your own fashion show in the heart of fashion central New York City during Fashion Week! So kudos to them and kudos to those of you who own Snuggies. We can form our own cult/fan club and hold monthly meetings where we read books, enjoy a snack, or attend outdoor sporting events! Who's with me?

Oh...and for those new moms concerned about taking their new babies out in the cold weather...we've got you (and your baby) covered.

The Bog of Burnsie

I want you to imagine the worst thing that you have ever smelled. No...worse. Got it? Now triple it. Quadruple it. That is what the inside of my car currently smells like. It's like the Bog of Eternal Stench got together with every landfill, decaying roadkill carcass and your stinky, little brother to spawn the most unimaginable funk known to man. Noxious, deadly, poisonous, lethal, toxic, putrid, malodorous, reeking, foul, rank, squalid, decaying, fetid. Nearly fatal, at one whiff it will put you into a hundred year coma. Smelled peripherally, it will merely knock you unconscious for several hours...possibly days and make you incapable of eating for weeks afterward. What's worse…my hands still stink - after vigorous scrubbings and repeated sprays of Glade Fabric & Air, they still stink. You never realize just how many times your hands come near your face until they resemble the odorous equivalent to mass genocide.

How? How is something of this magnitude possible? Would you believe that instead of a can of whoop-a#$, this morning I opened a can of death? As is my usual morning routine, on my way out the door, I grabbed a banana and my can of Safeway brand Weight Loss Shake. As I sat at the light, waiting to turn left out of my neighborhood, I shook up my can and popped it open. Imagine my surprise when it started to fizz and bubble, pouring over the edges like a bad science experiment.

What the? I was immediately greeted by just the edges of a new smell, but it was one I couldn't imagine coming from this can. It didn't smell like bad milk product. Instead it started first as an almost sweet smell and then rapidly progressed to an acrid, deathly gag-inducing cloud of putrescence*. Thankfully, I quickly came to another light, so I was able to open my door and pour the remaining offensive liquid onto the pavement. Unfortunately, I was still left was the offending can and the aftermath of the spillover on my floor mat, drive shaft area and even my pants. I drove the rest of the way with my windows down, but was still unable to breathe through my nose. Oh. I should also mention this. Honestly, I don't know what possessed me, but I kind of think it's a slightly human reaction to just "want to be sure". Because I still didn't quite believe that such an astonishing smell could come from my innocent can of liquid breakfast, I lifted the can to my nose and took a swift sniff. Now, I have a fairly strong stomach. I don't get car-sick. Gross stories don't literally make me want to lose my lunch...but this...ugh. It took an inconceivable amount of control NOT to vomit on my dashboard. But yes. I know. I asked for that one*.

I knew that I couldn't just get to work, abandon my car and run into work, so I called in and told them I'd be late and stopped at the first grocery store I could find. I have now employed the use of some heavy-duty fabric cleaner, 3 liters of water, a scrub brush and about half a bottle of Glade Fabric & Air. Pray for my car, folks. Pray for it. I'm actually afraid that when I get to my car after work, the noxious fumes will have reduced it to nothing more than a slightly steaming hole in the ground. So pray for Burnsie, folks. Also, if you can suggest a place that does good interior detailing for cars, I would be much obliged!

* Thank you Princess Bride.

**Does anyone remember the sketch on SNL with the family sitting around the table and one person opens the carton of milk and goes, "Oh man! This milk is bad! Smell it!" He passes it to the next person who smells it, makes a similar exclamation and thus it is passed from one person to the next...they follow w/ other things like, a broken chair - "Ow! This chair is broken! Sit in it!", etc. If had could have found a clip of it somewhere, believe I would have posted it here! But what on earth IS it about stuff like this, that we have to be sure or seek a second opinion? We humans are weird.

Pictures Worth a Thousand Words

A number of things have sparked my interest in writing this post, but it's mostly meant to be a visual. I was just reminiscing about some of my favorite books as a child and why they were my favorite books. As is well-documented here, I'm a major pushover for a good story, but I'm equally swayed by a moving illustration or picture. So often, pictures tell parts of the story that words or our own imaginations cannot...or they simply enhance our own imaginations. So w/out further ado, here are some of my favorite illustrators. Who are some of yours?

P.J. Lynch
Hands down my favorite illustrator. I will buy just about anything if he has illustrated it. Plus he's Irish. Plus I heard him speak at a BYU Symposium for Young Readers a few years ago and he's delightful!


As if his rich and beautiful use of color and detail isn't enough, he also alluded to one of my all-time favorite paintings (Gustav Klimt's "The Kiss" - picture on the right) in his illustration of my all-time favorite fairytale, "East O' the Sun, West O' the Moon"(picture on the left).












Is anybody swooning yet? Because you really should be.


Marilee Heyer

Heyer also illustrates a lot of really wonderful folk and fairy tales. The cover below is of a book that I bought purely for the pictures and ended up loving the story. I've also had a long love affair with Asian books/stories, so it had me at hello. I love how her pictures are sweeping, graceful and intensely intricate. I love detail. LOVE IT. Some of her books beg for you to spend hours just staring at her pictures...which I will neither deny nor confirm doing. Another book of hers that I'm fond of is The Girl, The Fish, & The Crown. Simply lovely illustrations.


















Trina Schart Hyman

Hyman's illustrations evoke something of the 70s to me. I can't quite put my finger on it. Maybe it has something to do w/ her pictures being somewhere in the middle between sketch and painting or the heaviness of her lines...but it just feels like my early childhood. Hm...not that I think of my early childhood as being somewhere between sketch and painting, nor did it have heavy lines...but well...her pictures just make me feel that way, okay? She also has lovely, graceful lines and delicate details. Her style is distinctive and memorable. I love it. I own this copy of Snow White, which was also purchased solely for the illustrations.
















Maurice Sendak

How could I have a list of illustrators without mentioning Sendak? Some of the most vivid images from my childhood originated in his imagination. Where the Wild Things Are & Outside Over There are two of the most vivid for me. Sendak is so talented at evoking a sense of fantasy and mixing in a bit of melancholy, eeriness and something uniquely beautiful. In short, I love his artwork and I love his stories. What more do I need to say, really?

















Leo Lionni/Eric Carle

I combine these two because something about their affinity for collage-ish/cut-out artwork makes me want to group them together. Also, I'm getting tired of writing, so I just wanted to make this go a bit faster. Also...they kind of look a little alike, don't you think? Lionni's character, Frederick, is one of my very favorite characters from my childhood. Perhaps I loved him so much because I was a daydreamer too. And what's not to love in such a sweet, adorable, unique little mouse made of paper?

Carle's pictures aren't quite as dear to my heart, because he didn't create actual characters, just illustrations. However, there is no denying that his illustrations are bright, cheerful and very memorable, which is why I've included him here.


















Dare Wright

Who says that illustrations always have to be paintings or drawings? These books have been stuck in my subconscious for as long as I can remember. My mom checked them out from the library for me when I was a little girl and I must have asked for them a thousand times after that. I was at least 80% convinced that because they were photographs, they were real. This little doll lived alone in a house w/ two stuff bears...and I was totally enamored with the idea. There is melancholy and loneliness in a lot of these pictures. (I'm noticing a trend w/ my attraction to illustrations/stories...) Being separated from my parents as a little girl was my greatest fear, so I think I was both horrified by the visual reality of such a thing and enchanted by the thought that even if that were to happen, someone/something might come along to care for and love me. Like a couple of teddy bears. Don't judge. They're special books, okay? And I still love them.
















So what books do you remember most from your childhood (or after) because of the illustrations?

Awesome Possum!

So, it would seem that I am driven to blog primarily about rodents. (Fine - rodents, mammals and marsupials, if you want to be completely accurate.) Just to recap, I've now blogged about field mice, squirrels and a raccoon - all of which met their untimely demises at the will of my car. Today I am forced to blog about another member of the rodent family; the opossum. To be specific, the Virginia Opossum. Thankfully this one is alive and well and currently hiding in our kitchen. Yes. That's right. Our kitchen. (Update: the possum has vacated the premises...details later in the post)

How did all of this begin? Well it all started when Roommate #1 inadvertently left the patio door in the basement open for several hours on Monday. Roommate #2 discovered this when she came home late that night and shut the door. The following morning Roommate #2, whose bedroom and bathroom are in the basement, found a little "gift" waiting for her on the bathroom floor. Say what you will, but at least the little critter had the decency to relieve himself on the bathroom floor and not the carpet. (We're all praying that there are no more little "gifts" waiting somewhere else! [shudder]) Roommate #2 was so disturbed by what she found that she wiped up the droppings and flushed them away. Understandably, R#2 was distressed and so she immediately contacted Animal Control to see if they could come and remove the animal - whatever it was. Unfortunately, Animal Control informed her that they would only dispatch someone if we had actually seen the animal. Sigh. R#2 and I searched the house (with broom in hand) from top to bottom and neither found nor roused anything, which only added to the frustration of the situation. This meant that because R#2 was the only one who had seen the droppings, she would have to use her super-sleuthing skills (thank you Google!) to figure out what kind of critter we actually had. Because she was at home that day, she gave me periodic updates and informed me that she thought it was either an opossum or a cat, but she seemed pretty sure that it was an opossum. Well, if it was, that would explain why we hadn't seen/heard anything in our searches because they're nocturnal and notorious for...well, "playing possum".

After returning from work, there were no new developments, so we decided to head off to institute and bother with it later. Later found R#2 and I in the living room at around 11PM both on our laptops and watching a bit of TV. Because this gave me the perfect sight line with the basement door, it was I who noticed movement and looked up just in time to see tiny black eyes peering from the delicate pointy-nosed face of a very small possum with a look of curiosity. My reaction? "R#2, R#2! Possum! Possum", spoken while pointing wildly toward where the little possum had just headed for the closed front door. Thankfully R#2 had her camera handy, so we got some good shots of the frightened little guy.













Let the games begin! The idea was to try and keep him corralled in the entryway, while we got the front door open and shooed him out with a broom or other such tool. Sadly, it didn't quite work out that way. As I slowly approached the possum to get him to the side of the door, so I could open it, he darted past me and behind the entertainment center in the living room. BLAST! So close! R#2 and I got down on our hands and knees and tried to find where he had gotten to, but couldn't immediately find him. He was a quick little guy and well, I already said it, but he was little. After moving as many objects on the floor that would provide hiding for him, R#2 lifted a blanket from a pile of other blankets and found this.

That's right folks. Have you heard that Snuggie is going for a new marketing scheme, focusing on a new and growing demographic? "Possums: the new spokescreatures for the Snuggie." (And yes, I own two Snuggies. What of it?) We succeeded in shooing Poss (he needs a name, okay?) back the way he had come, in hopes of getting him to head for the now open door. Unfortunately, because we hadn't thought to create barriers to other doorless openings, he instead, made a run for the kitchen. Sigh. We thought that wouldn't be such a big deal, because the kitchen is small and there aren't many places that he could hide, but rodents are clever and very squishy and he found a happy little crawl space between the bottom drawer and the floor. ARGH! This time we weren't going to fall for his shenanigans. We set up barriers using anything and everything we could find and then laid a trail of trail mix from his hidey-hole to the door. After that proved not as successful, I added some smelly bananas to the mix.

We retreated to the living room to wait him out and before long, we heard him happily munching on the bananas. We were not, however gifted with stealth and we had soon scared him back into his little hideaway. Great. Now he's fat and happy and has found a place to hang out indefinitely! What next?

After a few more times of him poking his little snout out and then running back to safety, we decided to back way off and just be patient. By this time it was nearing 2 AM and while I had been determined to stay until the job was done, I realized that I would be worthless today if I didn't get some sleep, so I went upstairs to get ready for bed. R#3 came down to keep R#2 company and to take her turn on "possum watch". By about 2:30AM I was in bed, but not yet asleep when I heard the front door close. I ran downstairs to see that the front door was, indeed, closed and when I asked whether Poss had acheived freedom I was met with R#2 & 3's joyous cries of triumph! Yes, he had found his way out of his hole and they shooed him the rest of the way. HOORAY! So it is official. We are finally possum-free.