Oh, Whitney.
So beautiful. Thank you for the memories, and the music!
*
February 13, 2012
(Work on Your) Poker Face
There are several reasons I wish I could have watched the Grammys last night, and at the top of the list is a burning desire to have seen THIS moment live:
SOMEBODY lost a bet here, and I'm guessing Gaga thinks she knows who it was. (I'm also guessing she's not a fan of country music.)
Picture found here.
SOMEBODY lost a bet here, and I'm guessing Gaga thinks she knows who it was. (I'm also guessing she's not a fan of country music.)
Picture found here.
February 12, 2012
Sunday Snippet (and 30 Days Challenge Update)
Today in Sunday School we talked about 2 Nephi 4, and specifically focused on 'Nephi's Psalm' (verses 15-30). Nephi talks about his delight in the scriptures and the things of the Lord, then goes on immediately to bemoan his imperfections and his sorrow over his sins and mistakes. Then he moves back to listing his blessings and the wonderful things Heavenly Father had done for him. It's an interesting pattern, this moving back and forth, and the discussion generated a couple of points in particular that stuck with me. One was that gratitude is the foundation/key/essential element to happiness. When we focus on all that we have and the ways in which the Lord has blessed, protected, and looked out for us rather than on trials and difficulties (big and small), we invariably become happier. The more we practice gratitude, the happier we are. It doesn't take away the trials, but it does certainly help in the enduring of them. (It just occurred to me, as well, that practicing gratitude could be a really good way to avoid sin - if I'm constantly 'pondering in my heart' how thankful I am for the One who has set the rules, I think I'd be a lot less likely to have the time or inclination to break the rules. Huh.)
Another wonderful point was an excellent analogy that came from the discussion: a class member talked about how before departing on any flight (London to New York was the example) a pilot will file a flight plan. Upon takeoff, the plane pretty much immediately deviates from that plan. The pilot compensates to try to get the plane back on course, and often overcorrects slightly in the opposite direction. And so on, for the entirety of the flight: back and forth, one side to the other, criss-crossing the imaginary line that is the flight plan. The closer the pilot can stay to that line, the better, even though there's really no way to actually stick perfectly to the plan. The pilot constantly tries anyway. And in the end, he lands safely at the airport in New York, his intended destination. In 2 Nephi 4 Nephi describes his own small 'course deviations' that lead him slightly off the course the Lord has set, but he knows that in the end all will be well because he trusts in God, repents of his mistakes, and strives to be better. He is grateful, and happy, and reaches the right destination.
* * * * *
And then the bishop asked me to play in Sacrament Meeting about 15 seconds before starting the meeting. Honestly, I was furious - not so much at the bishop as at the usual accompanist, who had walked out the door two minutes earlier without bothering to try to get a replacement himself. To his credit, the bishop did say that it was perfectly all right if I didn't want to play for the meeting, but I knew I'd feel even guiltier about not playing than I felt stressed about the accompanying. And I decided, between trying to fumble my way through the hymns, that it was time for me to get over it. I can't change the ward, I can't make people be responsible (or even considerate), but I can alleviate my own anxiety by sucking it up, killing my own sense of self-importance, and practicing until I feel comfortable playing whatever is asked. I'd much rather (I realized) feel willing and happy to step in and help whenever needed than stew in an irritated-and-grumpy soup. After all, I'm not going to be here forever, and I have asked for help - if I can't change them, I'll just have to change me. No more guilt, much less at-the-moment stress, AND I may finally be a credit to all those years of piano lessons and Mom's creative rehearsal schedules! I'd be an idiot to let them go to waste by being snippy.
Now I just have to formulate the new goal for additional practice time into a 30-day Challenge, and it will be all kinds of official!
Speaking of, the no-chocolate is still going well, and I'm finally starting to stop thinking and talking about it. It's weird, how much of a habit lingers in the talking, even if you're not actually doing it anymore... Another month and a half until Easter - at which point I may not even want to take a break for a candy bar (or a Cadbury egg). We'll see. The journalling didn't go as well - I missed two or three days out of the first 25 or so, and then petered out at the end. I figured I'd need to start over as another 30DC, but I haven't missed it or felt any urgency to get the (good) habit set, so it may have to recycle a little way down the list. I have started a new shot at getting into a better sleeping pattern by being in bed by 11 and up by 7 at least 5 nights a week - made it last night, and then slept terribly with really weird, vivid dreams (and not fun ones; just creepy). Better luck tonight, I hope! And then I'm going to have to pick one of the more interesting 30DC's to try - I wonder where I can find a ukelele in this town...
*
Another wonderful point was an excellent analogy that came from the discussion: a class member talked about how before departing on any flight (London to New York was the example) a pilot will file a flight plan. Upon takeoff, the plane pretty much immediately deviates from that plan. The pilot compensates to try to get the plane back on course, and often overcorrects slightly in the opposite direction. And so on, for the entirety of the flight: back and forth, one side to the other, criss-crossing the imaginary line that is the flight plan. The closer the pilot can stay to that line, the better, even though there's really no way to actually stick perfectly to the plan. The pilot constantly tries anyway. And in the end, he lands safely at the airport in New York, his intended destination. In 2 Nephi 4 Nephi describes his own small 'course deviations' that lead him slightly off the course the Lord has set, but he knows that in the end all will be well because he trusts in God, repents of his mistakes, and strives to be better. He is grateful, and happy, and reaches the right destination.
* * * * *
And then the bishop asked me to play in Sacrament Meeting about 15 seconds before starting the meeting. Honestly, I was furious - not so much at the bishop as at the usual accompanist, who had walked out the door two minutes earlier without bothering to try to get a replacement himself. To his credit, the bishop did say that it was perfectly all right if I didn't want to play for the meeting, but I knew I'd feel even guiltier about not playing than I felt stressed about the accompanying. And I decided, between trying to fumble my way through the hymns, that it was time for me to get over it. I can't change the ward, I can't make people be responsible (or even considerate), but I can alleviate my own anxiety by sucking it up, killing my own sense of self-importance, and practicing until I feel comfortable playing whatever is asked. I'd much rather (I realized) feel willing and happy to step in and help whenever needed than stew in an irritated-and-grumpy soup. After all, I'm not going to be here forever, and I have asked for help - if I can't change them, I'll just have to change me. No more guilt, much less at-the-moment stress, AND I may finally be a credit to all those years of piano lessons and Mom's creative rehearsal schedules! I'd be an idiot to let them go to waste by being snippy.
Now I just have to formulate the new goal for additional practice time into a 30-day Challenge, and it will be all kinds of official!
Speaking of, the no-chocolate is still going well, and I'm finally starting to stop thinking and talking about it. It's weird, how much of a habit lingers in the talking, even if you're not actually doing it anymore... Another month and a half until Easter - at which point I may not even want to take a break for a candy bar (or a Cadbury egg). We'll see. The journalling didn't go as well - I missed two or three days out of the first 25 or so, and then petered out at the end. I figured I'd need to start over as another 30DC, but I haven't missed it or felt any urgency to get the (good) habit set, so it may have to recycle a little way down the list. I have started a new shot at getting into a better sleeping pattern by being in bed by 11 and up by 7 at least 5 nights a week - made it last night, and then slept terribly with really weird, vivid dreams (and not fun ones; just creepy). Better luck tonight, I hope! And then I'm going to have to pick one of the more interesting 30DC's to try - I wonder where I can find a ukelele in this town...
*
February 08, 2012
Nothing Good Gets Away
John Steinbeck on Falling in Love: A 1958 Letter
by Maria Popova
Nobel laureate John Steinbeck (1902-1968) might be best known as the author of East of Eden, The Grapes of Wrath, and Of Mice and Men, but he was also a prolific letter-writer... Among his correspondence is this beautiful response to his eldest son Thom's 1958 letter, in which the teenage boy confesses to have fallen desperately in love with a girl named Susan while at boarding school. Steinbeck's words of wisdom - tender, optimistic, timeless, infinitely sagacious - should be etched onto the heart and mind of every living, breathing human being.
* * * * *
The content and thoughts on love are beautiful and important, and I also love the relationship presented by a teenage boy consulting his father (and mother, presumably) on such a topic and receiving a considerate, honest, joyful response. This is the kind of message from a parent that a child will (and should) keep for always.
Vive la Post Office!
* * * * *
The original article is here at Brain Pickings.
Thanks to the Facebook friend who linked it!
*
by Maria Popova
Nobel laureate John Steinbeck (1902-1968) might be best known as the author of East of Eden, The Grapes of Wrath, and Of Mice and Men, but he was also a prolific letter-writer... Among his correspondence is this beautiful response to his eldest son Thom's 1958 letter, in which the teenage boy confesses to have fallen desperately in love with a girl named Susan while at boarding school. Steinbeck's words of wisdom - tender, optimistic, timeless, infinitely sagacious - should be etched onto the heart and mind of every living, breathing human being.
New York
November 10, 1958
November 10, 1958
Dear Thom:
We had your letter this morning. I will answer it from my point of view and of course Elaine will from hers.
First -- if you are in love -- that's a good thing -- that's about the best thing that can happen to anyone. Don't let anyone make it small or light to you.
Second -- There are several kinds of love. One is a selfish, mean, grasping, egotistical thing which uses love for self-importance. This is the ugly and crippling kind. The other is an outpouring of everything good in you -- of kindness and consideration and respect -- not only the social respect of manners but the greater respect which is recognition of another person as unique and valuable. The first kind can make you sick and small and weak but the second can release in you strength, and courage and goodness and even wisdom you didn't know you had.
You say this is not puppy love. If you feel so deeply -- of course it isn't puppy love.
But I don't think you were asking me what you feel. You know better than anyone. What you wanted me to help you with is what to do about it -- and that I can tell you.
Glory in it for one thing and be very glad and grateful for it.
The object of love is the best and most beautiful. Try to live up to it.
If you love someone -- there is no possible harm in saying so -- only you must remember that some people are very shy and sometimes the saying must take that shyness into consideration.
Girls have a way of knowing or feeling what you feel, but they usually like to hear it also.
It sometimes happens that what you feel is not returned for one reason or another -- but that does not make your feeling less valuable and good.
Lastly, I know your feeling because I have it and I'm glad you have it.
We will be glad to meet Susan. She will be very welcome. But Elaine will make all such arrangements because that is her province and she will be very glad to. She knows about love too and maybe she can give you more help than I can.
And don't worry about losing. If it is right, it happens -- The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away.
Love,
Fa
* * * * *
The content and thoughts on love are beautiful and important, and I also love the relationship presented by a teenage boy consulting his father (and mother, presumably) on such a topic and receiving a considerate, honest, joyful response. This is the kind of message from a parent that a child will (and should) keep for always.
Vive la Post Office!
* * * * *
The original article is here at Brain Pickings.
Thanks to the Facebook friend who linked it!
*
February 07, 2012
Genetics
Apparently, my father's eyebrows are now growing out of my head.
All those years spent wishing for curly hair... and when it actually does start coming in with curls, it shows up as colorless wire! (On the plus side, when it finally goes completely gray it will be white and gorgeous and have lots of body. So, y'know - thanks, Dad.)
February 05, 2012
February 01, 2012
Strange
Chocolate is strange.
Today I was sitting on the bus, having just finished a grueling 15-page-4,800-word-theoretical (the essay was actual, but the research was all about theory) paper on representative politics in Sophocles' Antigone, eating a frozen smuggled Twinkie - I figured I deserved it. (And by 'smuggled' I mean 'sent all legally and above-board through the Royal Mail, properly marked and taxed yes sir'.) And then I found I didn't want it! I was happy to have it, of course, as it made me think of Monika, who sent me the lovely box of Twinkies last week*, but I wasn't as excited to eat it as I usually am re: sugary/creamy/baked goodness.
I mean, what's up with that?
I blame chocolate.
As you may have heard, I've given up chocolate for the year, and the first month has gone much better than anyone would have expected. (By 'anyone' I mean 'me', and by 'better' I mean 'without any screaming withdrawal migraines'.) It's been nearly 32 days, and this past Sunday when my Visiting Teaching companion was eating a Cadbury bar while standing three feet away I didn't even flinch. Or lean in, in the hopes of catching stray crumbs or even the calorie-laden fragrance. I just didn't care. THIS IS NEW.
As long as pretty much anyone can remember I've been the go-to girl for chocolate - I was worried when school started after Christmas break that my coursemates wouldn't recognize me without a candy bar in hand and biscuits (that's 'cookies' to most of you) on the desk. The average response when I tell someone I've quit cold turkey is 'WHY?!?', and it takes a few minutes before they stop looking like a grassy alien has sprung, fully formed, from the side of my head.
'Oh, come on,' they say, 'there's nothing wrong with chocolate. Why deny yourself?'
'Sure,' I say, 'it's no big deal, or anything - I mean, I was only eating two or three candy bars a day, and I couldn't leave the house without making sure there was a chocolate-covered something-or-other in my lunch bag as well as my backpack. I thought about it, I talked about it, I was constantly providing it for other people... not a problem at all!'
'Huh,' they say. (The grassy alien doesn't usually say anything.)
'And besides,' I say, 'In the month since I've given it up, I've lost probably six pounds - and there's no extra exercise in there, believe you me! Look! Cheekbones!'
'...', they say.
I have a theory that part of the reason I was able to give it up relatively easily this time (yes, I've tried before, and no, I've never made it this far) was because I had largely weaned myself off the cheap stuff. I had moved on to dark chocolate, and not just grocery-store dark chocolate, DESIGNER dark chocolate. I seem to remember hearing somewhere that it's a little easier to get clean off of really high-quality drugs because (other than the drug) there's not as much junk in there to mess up and weaken your body**. So when I decided to quit, it was simpler for my body to clear it out since it had all been high-quality ingredients. That, or the sticker price on the boutique chocolates shocked my system into sobriety... Just a theory. ***
Besides the fact that my face has evidently dropped six pounds and I have a little extra grocery money for vegetables and such (Mama's buyin' a farm, y'all!) it turns out that when chocolate is the main vehicle for your sugar consumption, you also eat a lot less sugar when you stop eating chocolate. And when you stop eating as much sugar, you stop craving it. I mean honestly, those Twinkies have been in the freezer for a WEEK. Who would have thought it possible? (And there are still more in there. I KNOW.)
I have been making a lot of pie dough cookies lately, but apparently cinnamon, sugar, and shortening aren't nearly as bad for you as a chocolate bar. Maybe it's the fact that I have to bake them first... Ooh, new diet plan - less exercise, more baking! It could work.****
See? Strange.
Also strange: the lady on the bus wearing Kelly green leggings with jean-style pockets on the backside. Leggings with pockets?!? What fresh new horror is THIS? You're in leggings, all your bumps are already out for public perusal. And then are you honestly considering ADDING MORE by putting things in your back pockets?!? (Which, really, should be looked at practically: how does anything in a stretch-jersey pocket on your bum stay in the pocket? Are you just going to stand around with a lumpy rear the entire day, or risk leaving a trail of smart phones and iPods and feminine products everywhere you go? This ISN'T 'Hansel and Gretel', lady... WON'T ANYONE THINK OF THE CHILDREN?)
I would blame chocolate, but at present I find I can't be bothered.
Which is SUCH a relief.
*Monika, there was much joy and rejoicing in Canterbury when I got your package - most of my friends (I let them have one Twinkie each, I usually shared the package with them) got one (including this dreamy boy... le sigh) and are now jealous that I grew up in a place where Twinkies run wild (not free, but still). Seriously, you're the best - you've guaranteed my popularity at least until Valentine's.
** I am NOT suggesting anyone do drugs. AT ALL. DON'T.
*** STILL DON'T DO DRUGS. WAAAAY more expensive than chocolate. I've heard.
****Okay, only if you have to walk five miles to your grandma's house every time you want to do the baking, but still.
*
Today I was sitting on the bus, having just finished a grueling 15-page-4,800-word-theoretical (the essay was actual, but the research was all about theory) paper on representative politics in Sophocles' Antigone, eating a frozen smuggled Twinkie - I figured I deserved it. (And by 'smuggled' I mean 'sent all legally and above-board through the Royal Mail, properly marked and taxed yes sir'.) And then I found I didn't want it! I was happy to have it, of course, as it made me think of Monika, who sent me the lovely box of Twinkies last week*, but I wasn't as excited to eat it as I usually am re: sugary/creamy/baked goodness.
I mean, what's up with that?
I blame chocolate.
As you may have heard, I've given up chocolate for the year, and the first month has gone much better than anyone would have expected. (By 'anyone' I mean 'me', and by 'better' I mean 'without any screaming withdrawal migraines'.) It's been nearly 32 days, and this past Sunday when my Visiting Teaching companion was eating a Cadbury bar while standing three feet away I didn't even flinch. Or lean in, in the hopes of catching stray crumbs or even the calorie-laden fragrance. I just didn't care. THIS IS NEW.
As long as pretty much anyone can remember I've been the go-to girl for chocolate - I was worried when school started after Christmas break that my coursemates wouldn't recognize me without a candy bar in hand and biscuits (that's 'cookies' to most of you) on the desk. The average response when I tell someone I've quit cold turkey is 'WHY?!?', and it takes a few minutes before they stop looking like a grassy alien has sprung, fully formed, from the side of my head.
'Oh, come on,' they say, 'there's nothing wrong with chocolate. Why deny yourself?'
'Sure,' I say, 'it's no big deal, or anything - I mean, I was only eating two or three candy bars a day, and I couldn't leave the house without making sure there was a chocolate-covered something-or-other in my lunch bag as well as my backpack. I thought about it, I talked about it, I was constantly providing it for other people... not a problem at all!'
'Huh,' they say. (The grassy alien doesn't usually say anything.)
'And besides,' I say, 'In the month since I've given it up, I've lost probably six pounds - and there's no extra exercise in there, believe you me! Look! Cheekbones!'
'...', they say.
I have a theory that part of the reason I was able to give it up relatively easily this time (yes, I've tried before, and no, I've never made it this far) was because I had largely weaned myself off the cheap stuff. I had moved on to dark chocolate, and not just grocery-store dark chocolate, DESIGNER dark chocolate. I seem to remember hearing somewhere that it's a little easier to get clean off of really high-quality drugs because (other than the drug) there's not as much junk in there to mess up and weaken your body**. So when I decided to quit, it was simpler for my body to clear it out since it had all been high-quality ingredients. That, or the sticker price on the boutique chocolates shocked my system into sobriety... Just a theory. ***
Besides the fact that my face has evidently dropped six pounds and I have a little extra grocery money for vegetables and such (Mama's buyin' a farm, y'all!) it turns out that when chocolate is the main vehicle for your sugar consumption, you also eat a lot less sugar when you stop eating chocolate. And when you stop eating as much sugar, you stop craving it. I mean honestly, those Twinkies have been in the freezer for a WEEK. Who would have thought it possible? (And there are still more in there. I KNOW.)
I have been making a lot of pie dough cookies lately, but apparently cinnamon, sugar, and shortening aren't nearly as bad for you as a chocolate bar. Maybe it's the fact that I have to bake them first... Ooh, new diet plan - less exercise, more baking! It could work.****
See? Strange.
Also strange: the lady on the bus wearing Kelly green leggings with jean-style pockets on the backside. Leggings with pockets?!? What fresh new horror is THIS? You're in leggings, all your bumps are already out for public perusal. And then are you honestly considering ADDING MORE by putting things in your back pockets?!? (Which, really, should be looked at practically: how does anything in a stretch-jersey pocket on your bum stay in the pocket? Are you just going to stand around with a lumpy rear the entire day, or risk leaving a trail of smart phones and iPods and feminine products everywhere you go? This ISN'T 'Hansel and Gretel', lady... WON'T ANYONE THINK OF THE CHILDREN?)
I would blame chocolate, but at present I find I can't be bothered.
Which is SUCH a relief.
*Monika, there was much joy and rejoicing in Canterbury when I got your package - most of my friends (I let them have one Twinkie each, I usually shared the package with them) got one (including this dreamy boy... le sigh) and are now jealous that I grew up in a place where Twinkies run wild (not free, but still). Seriously, you're the best - you've guaranteed my popularity at least until Valentine's.
** I am NOT suggesting anyone do drugs. AT ALL. DON'T.
*** STILL DON'T DO DRUGS. WAAAAY more expensive than chocolate. I've heard.
****Okay, only if you have to walk five miles to your grandma's house every time you want to do the baking, but still.
*
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