My computer, the Internet, Blogspot.com and/or all of the above have been wonky for me lately, and as a result my previous post does not look the way it's supposed to. Rather than spend any more time trying (unsuccessfully) to tinker with it, I'm going to leave it alone and trust that all y'all are smart enougth to figure out what I was going for, since I ought to be out and about attempting to have a life.
No longer Coming Soon: The rant about men. I mean, hey, what's the point?
January 26, 2009
Tagged, But Exploring Options
So, Kathy tagged me the other day (week, whatever... XO) and for various reasons, I was left befuddled. Here's my attempt to explain my way out!
Sixth PHOTO in folder:
OK, sixth folder: Blog Clipart. Huh. Sixth image in folder:
Cute, but not actually a photo.
Sixth PHOTO in folder:
Also adorable, but alas, just a still from my favorite episode of Vicar of Dibley, and still not people I know (darn it) or anything I have any real stories about.
Next, I removed a folder that doesn't actually have any pictures in it (Adobe software? In My Pictures? Huh?) and with a new sixth folder got: two more folders and FIVE stray pictures. *Sigh*
Moving on to the sixth picture in the SEVENTH folder:
[REDACTED] Ahem. Sorry. The legal issues are still pending on that one.
Then I got mathematical: I counted out 36 folders, ticking off the folders inside other folders, and then took the sixth picture from the 36TH file. Oh, please:
You'd think a file labeled "Halloween 08" would get you SOMETHING worth talking about, wouldn't you? But no, it's one of the two pictures in the file almost too dark to see. What it actually IS is a shot of Kingsbury Hall just before a performance of "Odyssey Dance: Thriller" (LOVE!) with dancers wandering the seats dressed up as really creepy zombies and freaking people out. Good times. I was dressed as Professor Trelawney that night, and my friend totally chickened out and didn't dress up at all. LAME. (Love ya, Matt!)
Finally, I counted six folders from the bottom of the list, and found a whole file of zoo pictures. No stories. "See, this is when I went to the zoo! The end." Instead, I grabbed what is certainly the most interesting picture from the file:
And this is what happens when you leave a camera unattended. My brother steals it and takes pictures of himself making crazy-eyed faces. Speaking of... Facebook! Woo!
The End. (Really.) Oh, except for...
I Tag: anyone who has a great stash of pictures and would like to share, and
Brittney, Kyle, & Raina!
January 25, 2009
Convinced But Not Yet Converted
In which we shall see: Talk of both (SPOILER!) Exercise and Religion, and multi-tasking with a combined picture post.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
As part of my renewed commitment to the family weight-loss competition and a goal to work out twice a day as often as possible, I walked to church this morning. It wasn't bad, just a 15-20 minute stroll each way - a little drizzly, but my red-polka-dotted umbrella coordinated with my red coat and black outfit, so that was OK. (Fashion first!) On the way home it occurred to me that I have become truly convinced about the principle of exercise. I recognize that since I've been making it a priority I have more energy, my back and pinched nerve feel much better, my waist is (probably) slimming down a little... I'm convinced, but not converted. I'm exercising not because exercise itself is a good and beneficial thing, but because I'm motivated by the cash reward from the family competition. I hope to be converted by the time the next five weeks are up (when the contest ends) and I expect that I will be and plan to keep working out - but I'm not there yet.
Church today was Stake Conference, and the theme was prepping the whole stake for Youth Conference this summer, with the focus on the Book of Mormon. Our stake has been asked to read the Book of Mormon by June, and several people talked about President Hinckley's challenge a few years back (has it really been that long? Wow). That got me to thinking - how converted am I to the principles of the Gospel? How often am I actively changing because of those principles, and being changed by them? I read the Book of Mormon in 2005 and had a great experience with it - so why has my focus not remained there?
In my missionary set of scriptures I have a note written in the margin of Mosiah 5, which wraps up the teachings and great conference of King Benjamin. It reads: "Being Born Again (i.e., converted) Is a Continual Process." This morning I was glad to be out walking and moving around, and I didn't let the rain deter me - I could be closer to conversion there than I thought. Why is scripture study (let's be honest, scripture "reading") so often just a habit or an obligation, rather than an exciting discovery zone? I've had experiences when I didn't want to put them down, to just keep reading and making notes and feeling my mind and heart open up - how do I make that a regular occurance?
I suppose it's by doing just what the prophets say: Remember the things that you have seen and felt and experienced before, keep going, trust the Lord, and have faith that the conversion with come - as it has before, and as it will again. (Keeping an eye on the final prize doesn't hurt, either.)
Lessons in faith learned in running shoes - who woulda thunk?
* * * * *
My latest work projects (a review): dummies, pillows, curtains, and fringe. And currently, more fringe. (Plus fringe again.)
I made the tablecloth:
The yellow pillows here are the ones I pieced together. The show's director keeps trying to sneak pillows off the set, and the designer keeps sneaking them back on.
One of my three body bags (they all pretty much look like this) with the re-mummified dummy inside. He's gotten pretty beat up during the course of the show - he was falling apart, so I went in and re-assembled him and then gaff-taped him up but GOOD.
Posing with my re-habbed dummy (as with most pretty males, you've GOT TO PROTECT THE FACE):
The dummy for the next show: He'll make a very dramatic entrance, thrown on stage wrapped up in a curtain, with just an arm hanging out. He's got to flop naturalistically, so the limbs are stuffed with bags of beans. I not only make good-looking fake bodies, I make dummies that can act! (Insert own actor joke here.)
This is a major piece in "Carlotta's Bordello", as we're fondly calling it - it's a dressing-table top that fits over a desk that will already be on stage. I upholstered it with a staple gun, five different trims, and approximately 50 yards of fabric (that's what it seemed like, anyway). There are also four or five pillows to match, and a hugely oversized velvet throw that I'm finishing trimming with (wait for it....) fringe.
Seriously, I'm kind of a set-decor rock star. And I have the pin-scratches and staple gun blisters to prove it.
Watch out for falling bodies (no, seriously) -
Cyd
Coming Soon: tagged random (er, 6-of-6) picture post, review of cheesy dance movie and exploration of "The Gallagher Effect", sheep theories, and yet another rant about men (may be included with the sheep theories).
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
As part of my renewed commitment to the family weight-loss competition and a goal to work out twice a day as often as possible, I walked to church this morning. It wasn't bad, just a 15-20 minute stroll each way - a little drizzly, but my red-polka-dotted umbrella coordinated with my red coat and black outfit, so that was OK. (Fashion first!) On the way home it occurred to me that I have become truly convinced about the principle of exercise. I recognize that since I've been making it a priority I have more energy, my back and pinched nerve feel much better, my waist is (probably) slimming down a little... I'm convinced, but not converted. I'm exercising not because exercise itself is a good and beneficial thing, but because I'm motivated by the cash reward from the family competition. I hope to be converted by the time the next five weeks are up (when the contest ends) and I expect that I will be and plan to keep working out - but I'm not there yet.
Church today was Stake Conference, and the theme was prepping the whole stake for Youth Conference this summer, with the focus on the Book of Mormon. Our stake has been asked to read the Book of Mormon by June, and several people talked about President Hinckley's challenge a few years back (has it really been that long? Wow). That got me to thinking - how converted am I to the principles of the Gospel? How often am I actively changing because of those principles, and being changed by them? I read the Book of Mormon in 2005 and had a great experience with it - so why has my focus not remained there?
In my missionary set of scriptures I have a note written in the margin of Mosiah 5, which wraps up the teachings and great conference of King Benjamin. It reads: "Being Born Again (i.e., converted) Is a Continual Process." This morning I was glad to be out walking and moving around, and I didn't let the rain deter me - I could be closer to conversion there than I thought. Why is scripture study (let's be honest, scripture "reading") so often just a habit or an obligation, rather than an exciting discovery zone? I've had experiences when I didn't want to put them down, to just keep reading and making notes and feeling my mind and heart open up - how do I make that a regular occurance?
I suppose it's by doing just what the prophets say: Remember the things that you have seen and felt and experienced before, keep going, trust the Lord, and have faith that the conversion with come - as it has before, and as it will again. (Keeping an eye on the final prize doesn't hurt, either.)
Lessons in faith learned in running shoes - who woulda thunk?
* * * * *
My latest work projects (a review): dummies, pillows, curtains, and fringe. And currently, more fringe. (Plus fringe again.)
I made the tablecloth:
The yellow pillows here are the ones I pieced together. The show's director keeps trying to sneak pillows off the set, and the designer keeps sneaking them back on.
One of my three body bags (they all pretty much look like this) with the re-mummified dummy inside. He's gotten pretty beat up during the course of the show - he was falling apart, so I went in and re-assembled him and then gaff-taped him up but GOOD.
Posing with my re-habbed dummy (as with most pretty males, you've GOT TO PROTECT THE FACE):
The dummy for the next show: He'll make a very dramatic entrance, thrown on stage wrapped up in a curtain, with just an arm hanging out. He's got to flop naturalistically, so the limbs are stuffed with bags of beans. I not only make good-looking fake bodies, I make dummies that can act! (Insert own actor joke here.)
This is a major piece in "Carlotta's Bordello", as we're fondly calling it - it's a dressing-table top that fits over a desk that will already be on stage. I upholstered it with a staple gun, five different trims, and approximately 50 yards of fabric (that's what it seemed like, anyway). There are also four or five pillows to match, and a hugely oversized velvet throw that I'm finishing trimming with (wait for it....) fringe.
Seriously, I'm kind of a set-decor rock star. And I have the pin-scratches and staple gun blisters to prove it.
Watch out for falling bodies (no, seriously) -
Cyd
Coming Soon: tagged random (er, 6-of-6) picture post, review of cheesy dance movie and exploration of "The Gallagher Effect", sheep theories, and yet another rant about men (may be included with the sheep theories).
January 20, 2009
Chick-Lit Live
Tonight's agenda: Wedding reception. (Not mine.)
Equipment: "Hooker" stiletto boots, red pearl beads, take-no-prisoners red coat. Slimfast shake (to fend off reception food).
Situation: Brother of the bride is ex-boyfriend.
Mission: Make nice with bride and groom, show ex what he’s missing. Bonus: Irritate single bridesmaids.
Status: ACCOMPLISHED.
Agenda for rest of evening, since there were no convenient attractive single cousins/groomsmen of appropriate age at reception: Pilates workout. DVD of cheesy new dance movie. (It’s a sequel, even.) (They’re always cheesy.)
Status: PENDING.
INSPIRATIONAL MOMENT OF DAY:
Congratulations, friends! (I'm pretty sure at one point she was on my list. Not the list you think, a different list... and she made it off! Awesome! Hope remains!)
Equipment: "Hooker" stiletto boots, red pearl beads, take-no-prisoners red coat. Slimfast shake (to fend off reception food).
Situation: Brother of the bride is ex-boyfriend.
Mission: Make nice with bride and groom, show ex what he’s missing. Bonus: Irritate single bridesmaids.
Status: ACCOMPLISHED.
Agenda for rest of evening, since there were no convenient attractive single cousins/groomsmen of appropriate age at reception: Pilates workout. DVD of cheesy new dance movie. (It’s a sequel, even.) (They’re always cheesy.)
Status: PENDING.
INSPIRATIONAL MOMENT OF DAY:
January 17, 2009
Huh.
It really is MUCH easier to walk/jog/run when you have music. I guess those three days of agonizing over figuring out how to load my Shuffle (it's teeny!) were worth it.
This picture is right about the same size as my Ipod. NO JOKE.
Days without chocolate: still none since 2008, unless you count one Slimfast shake, which I DO NOT
Who knew?
This picture is right about the same size as my Ipod. NO JOKE.
Days without chocolate: still none since 2008, unless you count one Slimfast shake, which I DO NOT
Weight lost: Still not enough, but hopefully back on the downward slope
Talks to write before tomorrow: 1
Ideas on what to talk about: 0
Procrastination abilities magnified by possession of Kindle and several digital books: +50
January 14, 2009
My Idol Journey
In which we shall see: a brush with fame, fortune, and reality TV.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Today I got to be famous.
After my monthly stint as chaperone for the BHS drama department to see a performance at a local big-name theatre (scenario one: "It's Charisse! Huuuuuug!!!" "Me too!" etc...- I now know how the cream filling in a Twinkie feels) (scenario two: I didn't know that many students could fall asleep that quickly 10 minutes into a play - hint: this production was NOT a favorite) I stuck around to act as a judge for the school's yearly talent show, "Brighton Idol". Instead of picking random teachers (read: anyone willing to stick around for the evening) they decided that this year they wanted people who actually knew something about talent (not my phrasing, I swear). There was a dancer ("the first Brighton Idol!"), a musician ("he can rip 16 bars at 350" or somesuch), and me, there to represent "actors". I had a distinct feeling it was going to be fun.
To start off, the three hosts took turns introducing the judges, and after presenting actual credentials tossed in some completely ridiculous freebies - for example, I will evidently be the next Celebrity Guest Judge on American Idol, and I hold three blackbelts in Taekwondo. Good times. Then each performer did their thing, and we judges scored them (anonymously) and then gave them brief feedback. Overall it was an excellent show - there really was some fabulous talent, and the scripts the hosts were working off of were quite clever and entertaining. At one point I used a staged "bit" - I had arranged with another student that he would call me just as I began my comments. He did, and when the phone rang you could hear the gasps in the auditorium, particularly when I interrupted proceedings to take the call. "Hi," says I, "right, sure, he's right here, uh-huh, I'll tell him" - at which point I went back to the mike and told the performer that "Randy Jackson (a real judge for American Idol) is on the phone, and he wanted to say 'You got it dawg', and 'you're destined for fame'. That's all!" It got a good laugh, and the student thought it was pretty cool.
At intermission, though, two sweet little girls (freshmen?) came up to the table and breathlessly asked, "Do you really know Randy Jackson?!?" I (laughed in my mind and) gently informed them that it had been a joke. They evidently didn't get that "joke" meant "not real" because they then proceeded to assure me that they were each my biggest fan. Apparently, between my intro and the Randy Jackson "call" they became convinced that I actually WAS a judge on American Idol. That, or they were faaaar better actors than I would have given them credit for, and were playing a joke on their own. Heh.
The show went really well, the judges managed to keep their remarks to a minimum (even with my occasional "bits") and fun was had by all.
Maybe I should try reality TV as my next career move - I'm pretty sure I could get the student population of Brighton High School to vote for me!
Watch out for falling turtles (and guitar picks, and ratings),
Cyd (BHS Guest Judge)
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Today I got to be famous.
After my monthly stint as chaperone for the BHS drama department to see a performance at a local big-name theatre (scenario one: "It's Charisse! Huuuuuug!!!" "Me too!" etc...- I now know how the cream filling in a Twinkie feels) (scenario two: I didn't know that many students could fall asleep that quickly 10 minutes into a play - hint: this production was NOT a favorite) I stuck around to act as a judge for the school's yearly talent show, "Brighton Idol". Instead of picking random teachers (read: anyone willing to stick around for the evening) they decided that this year they wanted people who actually knew something about talent (not my phrasing, I swear). There was a dancer ("the first Brighton Idol!"), a musician ("he can rip 16 bars at 350" or somesuch), and me, there to represent "actors". I had a distinct feeling it was going to be fun.
To start off, the three hosts took turns introducing the judges, and after presenting actual credentials tossed in some completely ridiculous freebies - for example, I will evidently be the next Celebrity Guest Judge on American Idol, and I hold three blackbelts in Taekwondo. Good times. Then each performer did their thing, and we judges scored them (anonymously) and then gave them brief feedback. Overall it was an excellent show - there really was some fabulous talent, and the scripts the hosts were working off of were quite clever and entertaining. At one point I used a staged "bit" - I had arranged with another student that he would call me just as I began my comments. He did, and when the phone rang you could hear the gasps in the auditorium, particularly when I interrupted proceedings to take the call. "Hi," says I, "right, sure, he's right here, uh-huh, I'll tell him" - at which point I went back to the mike and told the performer that "Randy Jackson (a real judge for American Idol) is on the phone, and he wanted to say 'You got it dawg', and 'you're destined for fame'. That's all!" It got a good laugh, and the student thought it was pretty cool.
At intermission, though, two sweet little girls (freshmen?) came up to the table and breathlessly asked, "Do you really know Randy Jackson?!?" I (laughed in my mind and) gently informed them that it had been a joke. They evidently didn't get that "joke" meant "not real" because they then proceeded to assure me that they were each my biggest fan. Apparently, between my intro and the Randy Jackson "call" they became convinced that I actually WAS a judge on American Idol. That, or they were faaaar better actors than I would have given them credit for, and were playing a joke on their own. Heh.
The show went really well, the judges managed to keep their remarks to a minimum (even with my occasional "bits") and fun was had by all.
Maybe I should try reality TV as my next career move - I'm pretty sure I could get the student population of Brighton High School to vote for me!
Watch out for falling turtles (and guitar picks, and ratings),
Cyd (BHS Guest Judge)
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