A Concern

I have a concern. It is regarding this period of my life. (For those females my age you may be able to empathize.)
Lately I feel like every conversation, revolves around marriage or relationships:

Who is engaged to who.
Who is dating someone seriously.
Who is talking about marriage with someone.
Who is waiting for a missionary faithfully.
Who is not going to wait for their missionary faithfully.
Who is secretly engaged but it just isn't official yet.(aka no ring)
Who is heartbroken because of a recent break-up.

I admit- in the past I have contributed to these conversations. I have listened and asked questions that are in a large degree related to relationships.
But then I thought about it, and realized it has been awhile since anyone asked me about something other than my past, present and future relationships. So if you are my friend here are some questions you can ask me next time you see me:

How did you feel when you read Pride and Prejudice for the first time?
What is your favorite character on Lost?
If you could taste any color, which one would it be?
What is your favorite memory of ours together?

These topics are interesting too I think. And if you agree with my concern, let your voice be heard.

Let's all find something new to talk about.

The Age We Live In

There are some problems in this world.

#1- I saw a girl on campus wearing leggings with nothing over them.
#2- A kid I know misspelled the word teeth. (Teath).
#3- There are currently four email addresses I occupy, 3 of which are spam infested.

There are also some great things in this world.

#1- My college physical science professor gave us a 100 point test and the only question was what our name is.
#2- People are proving that tanning causes cancer which is good news for those of us who do not have naturally olive skin, making white skin more permissible.
#3- I won speed scrabble three Sundays in a row.

There may be hope still.

Germany: Love, Friendship and Tom

I have a friend. His name is Tom. He is a very special kind of friend because he is very far away. He lives in Germany with his family and likes to come visit me in America and teach me German words and go to Lake Powell. And I miss him. That's all.

My ABC's

A - Alpine. Not born and raised, but partially raised.
B - Books. Bible. Book of Mormon.
C - Christmas. I cry everyday on the 26th before getting out of bed.
D - Drawing, Painting, Sketching, etc.
E - Elaborate plans I make in my head.
F - Flying. I dream about doing it every night.
G - Google - I use this pretty little tool everyday.
H - Hugs or Kisses? Hmm.... Hugs and Kisses.
I - Imagination. It is both a blessing and a curse.
J - Jocks? Nah.
K - Kit. My most commonly used K word in scrabble.
L - Little Women. Chronologically I'm Beth, but I am Jo at heart.
M - Mandy Madson.
N - New stuff. I like to shop.
O - Only my best friends really know me.
P - Popcorn. My one true love.
Q - Quilting was not fun the one time I attempted to do it.
R - Running, Rain, Reading, Rock and Roll
S - Snow. Snowboarding. Skiing.
T - Thoreau or Emerson? e.e. Cummings.
U - Underwear. I once spent $140 on it at one time. I like it.
V - Vision. I have bad eyesight. But I still have vision.
W - Warts, Weirdo's, and Weddings freak me out.
X - X-tremely into spelling things correctly.
Y - Young. And in love. With the idea of being in love.
Z - Zzzzz Sleeping. Was invented for me.

Socio- Rules of Amor

There is this theory we have created. (We being me and my other half - Elizabeth, aka Lizzie Cosper.) There are three groups of people in this society. I cannot say world, because that is a variable so large I do not wish to attempt*. However, in this society - America, Utah, BYU, whatever you choose - there are three groups of people who relate differently in the ways of love. I will attempt to explain this thesis.

The first group are the ones who are different, and do not care. They may like anime, or Russian literature, and may have bug collections and/or fingernail clipping collections. The point is - they are naturally drawn to those like themselves. Outsiders if you will. They will also grow old happy and content to discuss Star Trek and/or underwater basket weaving.

The third group, (we will come back to the second), are God's gift to mankind. And one another. They enjoy spending Daddy's money, looking great in a size 2 bathing suits, and golfing at the nearby country club. They are well fed, well bred, and well read. They are immediately drawn to one another and one another's equally stunning accomplishments: perfect hair, eyes, bodies, and overall, general perfectness. They may or may not grow old happily, but will eventually marry and spend their trust funds on vacations to Crete and Range Rovers with silver rims.

The second group are, sadly, most of the human race. We may not love Star Trek, but may still enjoy Harry Potter, Scrabble, and the occasional splurge at Buckle. We may or may not be extremely smart, wealthy, nerdy, good looking, or talented. However, we may have great personalities, and may be talented in some activities such as badminton, and Egyptian War. The plight of the seconders is, that unlike the first and third parties, we are not united. We do not want the firsts. We however, all want the thirds. Who, not suprisingly, do not want us. We are then forced to wed one another. Unless true love is acheived, we may marry wishing we could get a third, or we may never wed because we refuse not to marry a third. Although this scale may be exaggerated, it is somewhat factual.

Advice to fellow seconders: Third is not always the best.


*Not to mention, there are still arranged marriages in some places like Arabia

Shh. Code of Hope.

algún día

un jour

Irgendwann

un giorno

Ooit

algum día

когда-нибудь

いつか

Spring Time

"Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Davy Crockett and Sally Ann Thunder Wedding

Inspiration Board:

Sally Ann Thunder and Davy Crockett united for a wedding
that the backwoods of Tennessee and Kentucky
are not likely to ever see again.

Some fun facts about the happy couple:

Sally Ann can: "Tote a steamboat on her back, outscream a panther, and jump over her own shadow."
Davy Crockett can: "Slide down the slippery ends of a rainbow, outrun, outlick, and outholler any ring-tailed roarer east of the Mississippi!"

What: A wedding uniting Davy Crockett and Sally Ann Thunder Ann Whirlwind
Where: The Backwoods of Tennessee
When: One spring day

The wedding's colors included:
Whiskey Brown
Prairie Yellow
Berry Red
&
Various Rattlesnake Prints

The groom and groomsmen wore: Coonskin caps
The bridesmaids wore rattle-snake belts - (The same ones Sally Ann used to rescue Davy with)
The bride wore prairie plaid.
The entire wedding party wore rattle snake boots.

The guests dined on:
Alligator Stew- (Courtesy of Mike Fink)
Dumplings - (That could make a bear cry)
Berry Cake - (Foraged by Sally Ann herself)
Each Guest took home a crock of churned butter (Courtesy of the Grizzly Bear)

The guests enjoyed:
Square Dancing (With bears and humans alike)
Smiling Raccoons out of trees
A rousing game of horseshoes
Walnut Cracking (With front teeth of course)

The guests included but were not limited to:
Mike Fink in the form of an alligator
Fellow Prairie Folk (Supporters of Davy Crockett's political campaign)
Sally Ann and her prairie friends (especially Lucy)
The Panthers - especially the Big Eater of the Forest

Sally Ann says of the day, "After freein Davy from the tree, I knew he was something special. When he told me his "heart was bustin" I knew it was high time that I took his calloused hand in marriage. But there ain't nothing I can do with Davy that I couldn't do before. I was tickled pink that the grizzlies made it to the wedding for some square dancing, and even made some apple dumplings in their honor. I also decided to put myself and Mike Fink's differences behind me and invite him to the wedding. I kept a toothpick in my pocket in case he tried any funny business, I would throw him into the muddy swamp. I will slide down rainbows with you any day Davy. Thanks for being my man."

p.s. a special thanks to Davy for freeing the sun for the special day.

"Oh my stars and possum's why not?"

Text taken from: Osborne, Mary Pope. American Tall Tales. New York:1991. Text.

Makes Me Smile

I heard something beautiful today by my recent friend Jeff Moffat. Hi Jeff. I hope you don't read this, but if you do... consider it a compliment. It was testimony meeting and Jeff followed about five very teary girls. This is how he began, "The gospel makes me happy. Some people cry - and I guess they are tears of joy, but it just makes me smile." As he said that, I realized that I felt the same way. I cry sometimes in my testimony, but only when expressing feelings about loved ones, not really when I share my feelings about the gospel. When I share my testimony about the church, I can't help but smile. I smile because I know it. I smile because it's true. I smile because every part of me is so grateful to have it in my life that it doesn't make sense to me to cry. The gospel makes me happy too Jeff. Thank you.

Emerson Lynn

Today I became an aunt. Yesterday I was not an aunt, but instead a sister, a daughter, a cousin, a niece, a grandaughter and a friend. But today I am an aunt. And I will be an aunt until tomorrow and the next day and the next day and on into the eternities. And even though I have yet to hold my niece, and officially become her aunt - It is possible I will have that opportunity soon.

This makes me think of all the things I have yet to become. A fiance, a wife, a mother, a grandmother, etc. I have a lot of labels left to acquire. But today I am an aunt. And I think I am going to like that.

Ex Libris

I'm reading a terrific book: Confessions of a Common Reader by Anne Fadiman. Warning: Do not read this book if you do not love to read. Furthermore, do not read this book if you only partially like reading. Only read this beautiful book if you are passionate about reading. Because Fadiman is, and she needs only the support of full fledged readers to enter her domain. In this book you will learn proper bookmark techniques. You will also learn about how sexy reading about food can be, as well as the definition of such delicious words as: grimoire, adytum, and my personal favorite, very delectable word - opopanax, ( a reddish-looking plant formerly used as an emmenagogue and antispasmodic). Wouldn't you like to play with a balloon shaped just like an opopanax? I would. She also teaches you a lot about how your future spouse should be - at least to those who wish to live a romantically booky life. You are only truly married when you can share each other's books. You also need someone who will buy you 19 pounds of dusty books for your birthday, and who will inscribe in his very own novel, "To my beloved wife...This is your book, too, as my life, too is also yours." You will read about how romantic it is to be surrounded by Gore-tex, cuddling with your husband (romantically christened George), as John Wesley Powell's diary lay before you by lantern light, watching the Granite Rapids roll by. There are many things each of you need to learn about books. They are - not just things to be read and put down. They are our history, our present, our very future, and the mark we leave as human beings. They in fact - determine our existence, and validate our consciousness. So before you sprawl a book face-down, or dog-ear, or heaven forbid tear out its pages; take a minute. Breathe. Respect.

Romantics

There has been some debate. Never mind how long or how intense. It is about two of my favorite composers; Johann Brahms and Clara Schumann. I have taught Master-classes about them, I have studied their music, and have attempted to play their notes with the passion they composed with. The debate has been going on since they died, and I am sure long before that. No matter Brahms hot temper - he loved Clara. He could never offend her. His beautiful Romance was undoubtedly written for her. Out of respect for them, I must post this poem. Lisel Mueller wrote it, and I cannot say it any better. In other words: Stop debating. Let their music speak for them. It tells us everything we need to know. (As if it were our business in the first place.)

"The modern biographers worry
"how far it went," their tender friendship.
They wonder just what it means
when he writes he thinks of her constantly,
his guardian angel, beloved friend.
The modern biographers ask
their rude, irrelevant question
of our age, as if the event
of two bodies meshing together
establishes the degree of love,
forgetting how softly Eros walked
in the nineteenth century, how a hand
held overlong or a gaze anchored
in someone's eyes could unseat a heart,
and nuances of address not known
in our egalitarian language
could make the redolent air
tremble and shimmer with heat
of possibility. Each time I hear
the Intermezzi, sad
and lavish in their tenderness,
I imagine the two of them
sitting in a garden
among late-blooming roses
and dark cascades of leaves,
letting the landscape speak for them,
leaving us nothing to overhear."

O.C.D = Our Courtly Desires

There is this disorder I have. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Mine is not extreme, although some may worry it is. It does, however, pervade my life. I would like it to stop. To stop. To stop. Some things need to be repeated three times. Random things, there are no rules. They just do. My alarm must be set to the four. I cannot wake up at 7:15. It must be 7:14. Not 9:45, but 9:44. Always. Always. Always. My blinds must be checked one- two- three times before climbing into bed, and stepping on cracks is taboo. Leaves are pulled off of their branches and torn in 19 pieces. It used to be 12, then 15, then 17, but now it is 19. That might have to do with the date of my birth. I worry for when I turn 44. That is a lot of broken leave pieces to scatter as my breadcrumb trail. (I've done this ever since I heard the fairy tale of Hansel and Gretel.) Cupboards must remain shut at all times. Doors must be locked. Teeth must be brushed 14 times each. Hello, hello, hello before I answer the phone without a hello but a hey - or a what's up? Smiles must be faked, pulses must be checked, and on and on and on. And so forth and so on and on and on.

Read On

I have this thing I do. I call it reading. Some of my audience (whoever it may be) may be thinking, "Oh, I do that too." But I have to differ with you a little bit there. I read. And my reading is a little bit different than maybe some of you read. When I read, I read. It's not like I pick up a book and say, "Oh, I'll read until the little hand gets to the six," while I look up after every page or so to see if the little hand is there yet. I read with abandon. Because when I read, I can forget. Who cares about my miserably sad life right now, when Rochester and his little bird are falling in love despite his blindness? Who cares if my tears are running down my face when Florentino and Fermina Daza finally find each other after a terribly long and boring life. (and book). Adah and Caleb are meant to be. And Rachel can be rich in South Africa. And Lily gets to find all eight of her mothers. And Carl Ray finds out who his father is, and Beth Ann shuts up and Anna can die in a freak car accident and ruin an otherwise lovely novel. And it's okay. Because when I read, I am not alive. At least not my problems. And that's the way I prefer it. So go ahead and read - read as you always do, as you always have: one page at a time, while that little stick tick-tick-ticks, and you dog ear, or heaven forbid, sprawl your book down to pick it up later. I cannot do that. Because when I read, I read.