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This is a test. This is only a test. Hopefully, if this test goes through, then this posting (and all future postings) will once again allow comments. I'm chagrined that my last couple posts decided to veto comments, but I've chastised my blog for its misbehavior, and hopefully it won't act up again. Thanks for reading :)

Why I shouldn't blog at 2 am

It's after midnight and I'm not ready for bed yet. Which of course means it's blogging time.

This year has been a pretty good one by most accounts; I was finally freed from the bondage that is school, I passed the CPA exam, I learned how to make eclairs, and in a couple days my former roommate will transform into my new sister-in-law. I am so, so grateful for all those things, especially the eclairs. Just kidding...I'm especially grateful for Kyrie joining my family.

It's funny how anxiously I awaited graduation this last year. For the whole twelve months leading up to graduation, I could tell you the countdown in days till I was free. But since I graduated, I've been drifting from day to day, pretty much, because I haven't started my full-time job just yet. I haven't wanted to go back to school by any means, but I've been anxious about starting the new job. This last week I've been pretty much depressed about it. Not about the job, actually--I'm really excited about being an accountant. Maybe some years from now I'll think about changing jobs, but for now I'm looking forward to it.

Really, though, I think I've been mourning my life as a student. Student life is a liminal state--many of us have left the boundaries of the lives we led as youth, but we haven't really entered the adult world. We often seek to define ourselves, find ourselves, and form ourselves. As far as I've observed, there are two main rites of passage into the adult world: marriage or careers. Until at least one of these events takes place, we non-youth aren't quite adults yet, for the most part, and we're not quite fully formed or molded. We're not in the real world yet.

But now, I'm starting a full-time job, and I have to leave the liminal world of the student. I am becoming an adult. And in that sense, January 3rd--my first day on the job--will be the first day of the rest of my life. And the death of my life as a student. For many reasons, I'm excited to embark on this new adventure. But it's a bittersweet adventure, because yes, it's a rite of passage into the adult world--but it's not the one I wanted. Sometimes it's really hard to be patient and remember that in the future, some day, I'll find someone I want to share the rest of my life with--who wants to share his life with me too. There's plenty that I've felt that way about, and there may have been some who've felt that way about me--but the hard part always seems to be finding someone with whom the feeling is mutual. But while I haven't found that someone yet, I still have to leave behind the safety and comfort of the world I've known as a student, and I must venture out into the world of adults, for the time being alone.

So while this January marks the start of a new adventure and the end of an old one, I think I'll take a couple more days to mourn  the end of my life as a student and the beginning of my life as an adult. It's been a long December, and there's reason to believe maybe this year will be better than the last.

Merry Christmas!

Oh what fun it is...

I have had a few exciting events over the last two weeks: I had my first encounter with Roscoe's House of Chicken'N'Waffles, I successfully finished my NaNoWriMo writing dash, and I moved out of my parents' house.

First off--Roscoe's was everything I had hoped for and then some. I wasn't sure what to expect, really, except that I could eat chicken at the same time as waffles. I think I imagined a sort of fast food place like In'N'Out where there were only two main things on the menu--chicken and/or waffles. So when I went to the Roscoe's on Pico in LA with some friends, I was surprised to see it was a sit-down place very similar to Denny's. I was surprised to see that the menu had many choices, only one of which actually combined chicken and waffles. And even though I'd been told about it before, I was still a little surprised to be the only white girl there. But the food was good, the atmosphere was fun, and the company was great. So overall, Roscoe's made me happy.

Next--I was a NaNoWriMo winner! Which doesn't mean I've completed a novel, actually...but I've got about a 50,000 word start on one. I posted a sample of it. Feel free to either read or ignore. I have every intension to finish the novel eventually (though I'll be deleting the last thousand words since it was just a temporary ending. The highlight was the very end...by November 28th I had about 35,000 words, so I had to write 7,500 words two days in a row. I didn't know I could even come up with that much to write in one day. But of course, we were going for quantity, not so much quality.

Last--I have officially moved to Newport Beach, CA. Here's our front room, complete with the cat that doesn't like me. I'm super excited because (a) it means I'm not living with the 'rents anymore, and (b) I can get settled in before starting work next month. I've been here about a week now. I've unpacked all my stuff, I've met a few people, and I've taken my first bike ride on the beach. It's starting to really feel like home here--One more month to find my way around and/or get lost, and to make friends, before busy season swallows me whole.

And here's my lovely room, complete with sister, previous roommate's furniture, and current roommate's fiance (he was the first person I met in the area; all the roommates were out visiting people when we came by so the fiance gave my sister and me the grand tour).

NaNoWriMo Excerpt

So here's an excerpt from the novel I started for NaNoWriMo. It may not be the Great American Novel, but I had fun. There are six main characters:

Anna--recently graduated in Actuarial Sciences
Seth--boyfriend to Anna, also graduated recently in actuarial sciences; works for an insurance company
Everest--Anna's cousin; slowly finishing a degree in anthropology
Stella--Everest's sister, and Anna's cousin.
Tom--Seth's coworker at Collins & Firth, an insurance firm
Sheila--Tom's wife; graphic designer

* * * * *

At that thought, Anna's phone rang. It was Everest.

“Hey Everest,” she said.

“Hey Anna. You guys about ready?”

“Yeah— you want to head on over?”

“Sure. We’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.”

“Perfect. See you then.”

Crap. She had fifteen minutes to get ready. For a hike when she was out of shape, and at a time of day when she would normally be sleeping. Hopefully if she stayed awake all day today and got thoroughly exhausted on the hike, her body would let her start getting used to being diurnal again, instead of running on its normal nocturnal schedule. It was worth a try, and anyway the hike should be a lot of fun.

Hurriedly she threw her sketch pad and pencils into a desk drawer after admiring the sketch. The plant hadn’t turned out too bad, though it seems as her thoughts had trailed off, she’d just stopped drawing. Funny, she didn’t remember that happening. Ah well, what can you do, right?

She changed into basketball shorts and a tee shirt, with her old pair of running shoes, and grabbed an antiquated sweatshirt from the back of the closet. As she was putting her hair in a ponytail, Seth knocked on her door. Well she thought it was Seth, at least. She jammed the elastic around her hair and then opened the door. Sure enough, Seth was there. He came in while she hurriedly filled a water bottle and got a few snacks from her pantry.

“Any more cheese dreams?” she asked him.

“No, though I did dream that aliens were coming to inhabit the earth. Only, their ships were croissants. I guess they came from a planet that stressed double uses for everything, and if they got somewhere they couldn’t leave, then they’d at least always have food,” he said.

“Oh, that completely makes sense. I don’t know why I haven’t had that dream before.”

“Do you ever think that somehow, maybe someone really is trying to send you a message through your dreams?”

“Mine are usually too boring for that, or just weird. But I don’t think I’ve had any that really felt like messages.”

“So you’ve never felt like you would be the ambassador for the world, when the aliens came?”

“Aliens?”

“Or when the zombies attack?”

“Zombies? Really Seth? Are you sure you’re awake?”

“Oh I’m awake. The question is, am I really alive.”

“Remember, we’ve already had the talk— if you turn into a zombie, Seth, it’s okay for me to kill you because you’re not you anymore.”

“You are right. And same for you, Anna— if you turn out to be a zombie, I’ll make sure you get a nice burial, love.”

“You remember that time you told me about your brother waking you up?”

“Oh yeah— like, his dresser drawer or something next door just crashed to the floor, and the first thing I think of when I wake up is, ‘Oh my gosh— zombies.’”

“I still laugh out loud when I think about that.”

“Hahaha yeah me too. I think I told him about that— if I haven’t, make sure to remind me and I’ll tell him how he started the zombie attack without knowing about it.”

“Or maybe he did know it was the zombie uprising, and just wanted you to think it was something else.”

“Oooh, good point. You are a sly one.”

“I think I certainly have my moments. All right, I’m all ready— you have everything you need? Food, water, warmth, foliage?”

“Foliage?”

“You know, just in case you need to blend in or something like that.”

“Fair enough. Sadly, no, I left my foliage kit back in Arizona.”

“Ok. I am bringing toilet paper though.”

“Good call.”

There was another knock at the door, and Seth opened it to find Everest and Stella outside.

“Hi Everest, nice to see you,” Seth said, shaking Everest’s hand. “And I’m guessing you’re Stella?”

“Yep,” Stella said.

“I’m Seth, Anna’s boyfriend, chauffer, valet, or handyman, depending on whatever she needs most at the moment.”

Stella laughed at this, and Anna joined in heartily also. Once Everest saw it was okay to laugh, he joined in too. Once they’d all died down, Seth said, “Well, let’s do this then. I can drive, since we’re meeting up with Tom and I know where he lives.”

They all tramped over to Seth’s corolla and slid in. Soon they were on their way. Seth had Anna call Tom to let them know they would be there soon. In the meantime, they all exchanged pleasantries. Everest had been working early again, but only for a few hours. The jobs his boss was getting weren’t as steady as they’d been before, which worried Everest a little.

“Hey, you could always join me in the job hunt,” said Anna.

“True, but I don’t know if I could compete with you,” said Everest. “I mean, for one, you’re already prettier than I am.”

“Well, that’s not much of a challenge,” piped in Stella. “Just about anyone has that checked off their list.”

“Touché,” said Everest.

“With your degree, there has to be several jobs you’re qualified for,” said Anna.

“Well, yes, eventually when I get said degree I’ll be qualified for jobs, but as of right now I am still a college student— and poor.”

“Oooo, I know how that one goes,” said Anna. “Well, we can be poor together for a while, and it will be fun. Seth’s already been easing back into the college student diet.”

“What, bean burritos and ramen?” said Everest.

“Hey, good idea— I forgot about those options,” said Seth laughing.

“At least that would be a little variety,” said Anna. “No, Seth’s main staple this week has been Macaroni and Cheese. He even had to save the world from being overrun by cheese just a night or two ago.”

“Good work man,” said Everest. He and Seth fist-bumped. “Though it is a shame to let all that cheese go to waste.”

“I know, right?” said Seth.

Anna and Stella just looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

Seth saw them doing this and decided to interfere. “So Stella,” he said. “Tell me about yourself. I feel like we’re strangers.”

“That’s probably because we are,” Stella countered. “Well, I’m Anna’s older cousin and Everest’s baby sister, and I’ve been working with humanitarian aid groups in Africa for the last while.”

“That’s exciting,” said Seth. “You love it?”

“I really did, because I felt like I was helping people and making a difference in their lives.” Stella said.

“You say did— you don’t think you’re helping anymore?” Seth asked.

“Well, I mean I’m here, I’m not there anymore,” said Stella

“Did you know California has a higher number of homeless people than most other states?” asked Seth

“Are you suggesting I become one of them?” asked Stella, amused.

“No, the opposite— there are lots of programs that work with transient individuals or those who are trying to get back into the job market. Maybe there is a niche for you out here. I mean, yeah, a lot of us are white, but we’re pretty cool too, maybe.”

“Maybe you’re right— I could look into jobs they’d have around here. I have pretty good non-profit experience, and they’d maybe let me help out at some place around here.”

The car pulled into a parking lot at this point. Seth slid into a spot near one wall of apartments, then hopped out and knocked on a door nearby. Soon a man and a woman emerged, talked briefly to Seth, and then got into their own car. Seth walked back and got back into the driver’s seat.

“Okay, we’re going to follow them to a place about twenty or thirty minutes from here,” said Seth. “So get cozy, and Anna I appoint you official DJ. If you guys have any dislikes, voice them or forever hold your peace.”

“I’ll take anything but rap,” said Stella.

“I only like rap,” said Everest.

Anna looked back at them, shocked, but she turned just in time to see Stella hit Everest and say, “You liar.” Stella turned to Anna and say, “We’ll both like whatever you pick out.”

As she went through the various local stations, she settled on a song by the Cure.

“You know, I’ve been hearing a lot of them on the radio recently,” said Seth.

“Good thing, too— I love the Cure,” said Stella.

“The Cure is good, the Smiths were better,” said Everest.

“I think the Smiths are better for the days I’m depressed,” said Anna. “But when I’m feeling pretty happy, the Cure’s better.”

“You don’t want to be utterly miserable all the time?” said Everest.

“No, she has to decide she wants to be miserable first,” said Seth. “But once she’s there, she really needs a good, melancholy, depressing song, and the Smiths will deliver every time.”

“You don’t think ‘Girlfriend in a Coma’ is a happy song?” said Stella.

“Well, true, especially compared to ‘There is a light that never goes out,’” said Everest.

“Which one is that?” asked Anna.

“Um, my favorite part is, ‘To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die,” said Everest.

“Oh, I think I remember that song. It is a really pretty one though,” said Anna.

“Well they do have some happier songs— I mean, there’s ‘Shoplifters of the World United Take Over,” said Stella.

“Good call— I’m guessing that theft is okay as long as it’s coordinated, right?” said Seth

“Exactly,” said Stella.

“Hey Anna, guess what?” said Everest.

“You’re running away from home to join the circus? It turns out you have an identical twin who just turned up in Russia? You’ve grown a cabbage that looks like John Lennon?” guessed Anna.

“No— though the cabbage thing would be pretty cool. Stella, we should grow some cabbages. No, the real thing is, my mom’s coming into town to visit.”

“Oh really? She’s always been nice to me. And to you guys too, I’m sure,” said Anna.

“Yeah, she’s pretty nice,” said Stella.

“Who’s she planning on staying with?” asked Anna.

“I offered her my couch, but for some reason that didn’t quite appeal to her,” said Everest. “I think she’s going to be staying with Aunt Grace.”

“Aunt Grace does have some nice rooms, if I remember correctly,” said Anna. “That’s exciting! When is she coming?”

“She should get here sometime this weekend, I’m guessing, though to be honest I’m not really sure. We talked to her last night and she decided it was about time she come to the west coast to see us.”

“Is your dad coming too?”

“I don’t think so— she didn’t say anything about him, and I don’t know if he would take time off work. He wouldn’t come all this way just for me, but seeing as Stella’s back on the continent, it could be just enough to make him decide a trip out here wouldn’t be so bad after all, even if he would have to see me in the meantime.”

“Oh don’t be ridiculous,” said Stella. “Dad loves you and he’d love to see you too— it’s probably been longer since you’ve seen him than since I’ve seen him.”

“Well everyone else gets to be ridiculous, I figured it was my turn,” said Everest. “I’m not sure that you really know what you’re dealing with when you talk about Dad’s feelings for me. He just doesn’t ever seem happy that I’m still alive.”

“I don’t know…maybe you guys are just too much alike. I mean, you don’t wear your emotions on your sleeve either,” Stella said.

“Oh, was it ketchup I left on it, then? Bother, I hate when that happens,” said Everest.

“No, I think this time it isn’t ketchup either. Must be chocolate. Or mustard or something,” Stella retorted.

“You’re right, Dad and I are both the strong and silent types. Maybe I should just go have a man-to-man talk with him. Which would, as usual, involve us cleaning out guns and watching sports,” said Everest.

“You guys actually did that?” said Stella.

“No, no we never did, but it seemed like that’s what anyone else ever did when they had a man-to-man chat with their dad, so I figured why not give it a go,” Everest said.

“Seth, do you clean guns with your dad when you have a serious talk with him?” asked Anna.

“Sometimes— though we don’t use them too often, so we have to come up with other things to do. Like taking apart the lawn mower,” said Seth.

“Ooo, that sounds like a good one,” said Everest.

“It’s amazing how you can come to an understanding with someone when you’ve been staring at the same engine for an hour or so,” said Seth.

“What do you do to have a man-to-man chat with your mom, Anna?” asked Everest.

“Man-to-man? Come on! At least acknowledge that I’m a girl. Um, we’d have a good heart to heart whenever it was time to retire more toys to the attic. Since then, I’ve run out of toys, and we haven’t had a good talk,” said Anna.

“So you’re saying you want a dollhouse for Christmas, right?” asked Seth. “The dutiful boyfriend should be able to interpret the conversation thus, right?”

“If you want, but you’d be the only one playing with it. I don’t think I ever actually had a dollhouse,” said Anna.

“My sister did,” said Seth. “They’re loads of fun. We could get you all set up, and we’d get you furniture and everything for it,” said Seth.

“Very touching, dear. How about we just get me some real furniture?” asked Anna.

“Nah, with a dollhouse you can at least actually have a place to put it. I do love our dear little complex here, don’t get me wrong, but once you step inside, you have just enough room to turn around and then that’s it,” said Seth.

“Stella, you used to have a dollhouse, didn’t you?” asked Everest.

“I think I had one when I was like four or five. You remember we’d play with it?” asked Stella.

“I am far too manly to play with a dollhouse. Please, don’t besmirch my image in front of our cousin,” said Everest.

“Oh, so you’re saying I should tell mom not to bring the photos of us playing with it after all? I thought you were really excited to see those again,” said Stella, smiling.

“Stella, do you really have pictures of that?” asked Anna.

“Really truly,” Stella said.

“That is awesome. You just made my day that much better,” said Anna.

“Thanks sis, you really know how to help a guy,” said Everest.

“Oh come on brother,” Stella said. “You know those are some of your favorite pictures. At least it’s not the ones where you’re naked,” said Stella.

“Well I know for a fact you have at least twice as many naked pictures as I do,” said Everest.

“Who doesn’t have a good collection of naked baby pictures,” said Seth. “At least, they’re usually baby pictures. I think we kept getting some of my brother till he was about eight or nine…it took us that long to convince him he should keep more than boxers on. Boxers are too easy to pants.”

“You would pants him and then take pictures?” asked Anna, scandalized.

“I mean, I would just happen to have a camera in my hand, and my sister would just happen to help dear brother with his pants at the time. It was always a magical moment,” said Seth.

“Did your mother find out?” asked Anna.

“She usually found out once she took the rolls to the store to get developed. It was a long time before she could come home from developing photos without finding any naked pictures of Brett in them,” said Seth.

“And did she yell at you?” asked Anna.

“Oh, she yelled at us all in turn. She knew exactly what happened, and she yelled at Brett as much as she yelled at us, because she was sick of him sitting around in his boxers,” said Seth.

“What got him to finally keep his pants on?” asked Stella.

“You know, I don’t really remember,” said Seth. “But he just stopped wandering around in boxers. My sister and I were kinda sad about it, but we soon found other things to do. And Brett got in on those, so I’m sure in the end it was good— it let us bond and all that good stuff.”

By this time the car ahead of them, with Tom and Sheila, had reached a dirt road. They followed Tom’s car up the road to a parking lot that was surrounded by a fence. Then Tom and Sheila jumped out, and Anna, Stella, Everest, and Seth all followed suit.

“Hi, I’m Tom,” said Tom, walking to their car.

“I’m Sheila,” said Sheila, following them.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Seth,” said Seth with a grin.

“Oh, is that your name?” asked Tom. “I’ve been wondering what to call you all this time.”

“Well, as long as it’s not ‘Moron,’ it would probably do just fine,” said Seth. “Tom, Sheila, this is my girlfriend Anna, and her cousins Stella and Everest. They’re brother and sister.”

Every one said how nice it was to meet everyone else, and then they headed on the trail.

After hiking for a while and talking, they got to a beautiful vantage point over the valley. Just as they were admiring the view, Seth pointed out something in the distance. It looked larger than the birds that were wheeling above. With every second, it loomed closer and closer. They still couldn’t make out what it was, but it came from the west, floating in from the ocean. Within a couple more minutes, though, they could see it, though they didn’t believe it.

“It’s a croissant!” shrieked Stella.

“You’re crazy, Stella—no way that could be a croissant,” said Everest. Still, he looked doubtful.

Anna suddenly looked over at Seth who was watching with his eyes wide open—his eyes and his mouth too.

“Seth, this isn’t what your dream was like, was it?”

He couldn’t speak—he was too shocked—but he nodded, his eyes trained on the airborn croissants.

Soon they could see that it wasn’t just one but many—a whole fleet of croissant airships. Everest tried calling in to the police on his cell phone, but the line was busy. Hopefully they weren’t the only ones to see the pastries coming in for landing.

Soon, one by one, the croissants took a position in a large circle around the city. From where they were, they could see it for a circle; they were out on the northernmost edge of the city but they were still too far away to be encircled. Just then, Tom took out his own cell phone and made a call. He was somehow able to get through to the party he was calling—whoever it was—and then started speaking to someone. Anna wasn’t sure what she was hearing, but she was pretty sure she’d never heard any language like that. She looked at Seth questioningly—really, she was just afraid to look at Sheila—but Seth didn’t offer any help. He just stood there looking dumbstruck. Anna finally risked a peak at Sheila, and to her relief Sheila looked just as surprised as she did. But when Tom hung up the phone, she said, “You scheduled the landing for today? This couldn’t wait until later?”

“My love, I figured today was just as good as any—we’ve gained all the knowledge we need to know how to handle humans. They really don’t understand how valuable their insurance information is to outsiders like us, or else they would have done a little bit more background checking.”

Seth finally found his voice again. “You lied to me? You didn’t go to MIT after all?”

Tom turned. “No, Seth—everything I’ve told you is absolutely true. I just didn’t tell you that my family and Sheila’s are from the same galaxy. They came out here with a group about a hundred years ago to blend in and study, and it’s finally been in the last few years that we’ve gathered the last few crucial bits we needed to be able to announce ourselves to Earth.”

Anna swatted Seth and whispered, “All of this happening and you only worry that he actually went to MIT? You’re crazy!”

Seth shrugged apologetically at her, but continued to watch. Anna waited for a bomb to drop, for buildings to explode, for something—anything—to happen. To her surprise, though, the circle of croissants just descended on the city. In fact, there wasn’t anything to indicate that anyone in the city had actually seen any of it happening.

“Um, Tom, are you guys planning to…eat us or something?” she finally worked up the courage to ask.

“Anna, I don’t think humans would taste good.” Tom told her, straight-faced. Then he laughed. “No, in fact we’re not even here to conquer you guys at all. The reason we finally had those ships land today is that we’ve found a niche for ourselves in this world. Our own planet has been dying for the last while, and we’ve been sending croissants over into your galaxy for the last couple hundred years. But as much as we tried farming, or ship building, or any number of other industries, we were either way too good for the unions to let us join or we couldn’t do anything right and we’d get fired. We’ve been trying for job after job, where we could launch into production without the population noticing too well. Heck, I even tried accounting, but that was still a little too uninteresting for me, though I’m sure some of mine would like it. No, I knew once I stepped into Collins and Firths that first day that I’d found the right niche for us. Most people think insurance is such a dreadfully dull thing anyway, and we’d be able to expedite processes. Furthermore our methods of calculations are better than actuaries and our investments tend to do better—so we could actually support ourselves on your planet without really bothering anyone.”

“Tom, was it you sending me the dreams?” asked Seth, timidly.

“Ah, you got those—very good. We’re still experimenting with them, but it seemed worth a try at least. Yes, we wanted to have you be one of our ambassadors, or employees, in the line of insurance companies we’ll be setting up. You seem to have a good knack for it and I’ve enjoyed becoming friends with you. Will you join us?”

“Wow. So the croissant dream really did have a message. Yes, I’d be happy to join—that is, if you could find a job for Anna too. She’s very good at numbers also.”

“Not to mention she has a delightful personality,” said Tom. “Yes, I do think we’d have a great position for you, too, Anna, if you could choose to accept us.”

“I-I’d be honored,” said Anna, her head reeling. “Is this for real?” At this point she could see all the croissants had disapeared from the sky.

“It’s quite for real. And Everest, we have need of an anthropologist. Would you be interested in helping us make sure we don’t commit too many faux pas?”

“I’d be honored,” Everest said.

“I’m pretty good at helping families get situated,” volunteered Stella. “Can I come on board?”

“Sure, we’d love that,” said Tom.

“Well, guess that’s everybody,” said Sheila. “Nice to meet you all, and I’m excited to have you working with us. Honey, remind me to start on the insurance brochure once we get home.”

Now that the landing was complete, they were able to return home, help the other aliens get situated, and find lots of good recipes involving croissants, so that the space ships could be put to good use.

THE END

Dance parties and rock climbing

A few weeks ago I was babysitting my nieces. On this particular night, they decided that a dance contest would need to be part of the evening festivities. Therefore, they brought out their Barbie stereo, started blasting the pop music, and began to get their groove on. Once they'd all had a turn to do impromptu routines, they wanted me to tell them who had been the best dancer. I compromised and told them each one which category they were best in.

If they'd been normal kids, they may have accepted that and just moved on. But of course, these girls are Slades, which means that part of their DNA tells them their main objective in life is to be the winner--not a winner. The winner. We tease my older sister about her competitive streak as a ten-year-old when she'd play herself at Monopoly; one of her pieces would be for Kashia Winner and the other would be for Kashia Loser, so that even when the rest of us kids didn't want to play, Kashia could make sure she'd have a competitor she could dominate.

It's taken many years for me to realize how competitive I am. I think the main reason I'm not a huge fan of playing sports is that I'm not naturally athletic which means I usually won't win. I guess as much as I'd try to say "I'm in it just for fun," I really haven't tried out many activities where I felt like I'd always be losing. There are exceptions, but in general I've avoided things that might have been fun, not because I didn't think I'd enjoy them but because I couldn't be one of the best, or at least one of the better ones at it.

Last week I went rock climbing in Rock Canyon with some awesome people, and after making our first climb, we went to a portion called "the Kitchen." I was so tired that I couldn't get all the way to the top, even though it's a fairly short climb that takes most people 30 seconds at the most. I definitely tried about 20 times. After I finished my attempts, I watched other members of the group tackle the Kitchen and reach the top in about 30 seconds. Then I watched as one member of our group took on a part of the wall that was more difficult. He was using handholds and footholds that I couldn't have used, and of course he had a whole lot more muscle than I did.

Still, in that particular run he would get to some point, try to move up, fall off the wall, then try again.

Eventually he made it to the top. When he came down, I told him I was impressed with his climbing. He said it just came down to failing again and again, but working through the failure and trying again and again. I keep thinking back to that climb, and I realize that failing and trying again is something I'm not very good at. I like to win on the first try, or at least do all right--which I think everyone does. But instead of acknowledging that it would be nice to be great on the first try but not very realistic to expect that of myself, I just avoid activities that I would fail at. Rock climbing is one of the first things I've picked up a little where I can fail and fail and fail but still keep working on; it's one of the first activities where I've been able to see that just consistently putting in effort does pay off.

I'm really kind of sad for all the opportunities to fail that I've lost over the years. Really, I am sad--while I know I might have tried something out and just hated the experience partly because I was failing at it, I could have learned a long time ago that it's okay to fail. That is a lesson that I'm still learning. I'm not sure that my nieces are quite ready to be told they fail at something, but at least they have something going for them--I'm almost 20 years older than them, but they're already better dancers than me. Maybe when they're my age they'll be ready to fail also.

To NaNoWriMo and beyond!

November's a pretty exciting month this year. I get to hang out in Utah and see awesome people, I get to eat my sister's food, and I get to find out if I'm all done with the CPA exam. But on top of all that fun, I'm think I'm going to write a novel. Some time ago, some pretty cool people decided that they should think up something to do with all their empty afternoons in November (I don't know what they do with the empty afternoons every other month). What did they decide? They decided that they should fill those November hours with lots of writing. So now, the challenge is on, for any who want to join them, to write a 50,000 word novel from start to finish in the month of November. I hope to put in about 2500 a day. So far, I have 1,289 words. But the night is young and before the dawn comes tomorrow, I may have set down another 1,211 more. If you're thinking right now, "This sounds like an awesome idea!," well, I'm here to tell you it is pretty awesome, and you should join me. Any takers?

So I'm living with the parents for the next couple months, and a week or so ago I came across a letter I'd written to my family when I was in Bolivia serving a mission. It amused me so I thought I'd share:

"There's a young woman, Nelly, who wants to be baptized but we need to get permission from her parents before she can. She told us recently that she had kneeled in her room to pray, and was asking out loud, "Heavenly Father, help me know if the Book of Mormon is true." Meanwhile, her brother had heard her praying so he came to the door and said "Noooooo."

Haha while she may have been surprised by that response, I believe she did get an answer from Heavenly Father that the Book of Mormon was His word, in addition to the Bible. Sometimes I just sit in awe of this book, and ask myself, "Did all this stuff really happen?" But when I read it, I feel so happy, and when I apply the principles from it in my life, I feel that I'm a better person and I'm closer to Heavenly Father. Just like the Bible, it helps me look to Christ as my savior, and it helps me understand what will make me the most happy here in this life. I'm glad I have the Book of Mormon in my life to learn from, and I highly recommend it for anyone who hasn't read it before--and also for those who have :)

Autos, autos, everywhere

So halfway through August, I moved back in with the 'rents for a couple months. I feel that I'm doing a good job freeloading here, but occasionally I'll help the family out. Beyond, of course, gracing them with my presence and serenading them with the four (soon to be five!) chords I know on the guitar. Most recently "being helpful" has involved chauffeuring my youngest sister, Haley, to high school.

Naturally, I feel it's reasonable to sleep in as much as possible. So when it was time for Haley to leave, around 7:40 am, I was still in bed. A pair of flip-flops and a sweatshirt later, we were on our way to high school. But there was something very unearthly about the experience. Maybe unearthly isn't the right word...maybe very unVentura-ly.

I live in a very calm suburban town. For the most part, people leave here to go work in Los Angeles or Santa Barbara or other, more exotic places; they typically leave around 6:30 am for work, or if they're really anxious to go and park on the freeways, they leave for work around 7:00 or 7:30 am. That being the case, normally the streets are pretty quiet in the morning.

But that day (and the next, and the next) as we went to the local high school, I was pretty sure that every single car in Ventura was on the way to the same block we were. Maybe they weren't all going to the high school, but our high school is half a block away from a middle school, kitty-corner to an elementary school, and down the street from a community college. As a result, what is normally a simple seven minute drive became a twenty minute all-out strategic battle: cars jockeying for space in the turning lanes, only to have to wait for three or four light cycles before actually turning, cars trying to change lanes and actually accomplishing the objective five minutes later. Drivers were nice to each other, and really, no bad driving was taking place. It was simply very, very crowded.

Haley and I managed to get to school by taking a right turn when we'd normally go left (but of course, we couldn't because there was no room in the left turn inn. I mean, lane.), making a U-turn about 50 feet past the light (at an intersection, very neatly and very legally. I think.), barreling down the main road leading to all these schools, pulling some neat maneuvering around apartments, dumpsters, and back lots of grocery stores, and finally ending up across the street from the high school. Haley had about five minutes to get onto campus, get across campus, and get in her seat before the bell rang.

After Haley began her cross-campus run, I turned around and headed home, mostly retracing the route we had just taken (but minus the back lots and dumpsters). But somehow, in the ten minutes it had taken for me to retrace my path, all the cars had vanished. There was still the occasional station wagon or SUV putting along the freeway, but the masses of automobiles that had clogged Ventura's streets just minutes before had all disappeared. I'm still trying to figure out where all the cars go during that, but I've decided, in the end, it's a pretty good magic trick.

BEC: Check. FAR: Check. AUD: please oh please oh please...

I passed I passed I passed I passed I passsed!!!!

So far I've taken two sections of the CPA exam--probably the easiest and the hardest ones. Last week I knew I'd get my score back for the first one, but I didn't think the second (and harder) one would have been posted. To my delight, I found out tonight that I got passing scores for both tests. I think I may have studied too hard...but that's okay, they're all over with forever. Hooray!

These both give me extra confidence for the next one I take, in about 65 hours...I haven't studied nearly as much on this one, and I'm counting on my mad multiple choice skills and my stunning good looks to get me through it.

FAR (but not far enough)

So much depends

upon

A CPA

test

Glazed with

rain

Beside the white

chickens

How can you tell a Utahn from a Californian?

Now, I know there are many differences between people who live in Utah and people who live in California. For example, when Californians go to the beach, they head toward the Pacific; when people in Utah go to the beach, they head toward a lake. Any lake. Nevertheless, I recently became aware of another schism.

My friend Donna and I took a road trip to Los Angeles last weekend, and through the course of our trip we traversed several freeways. When I was getting directions from friends, the conversation would often proceed in the following manner:

Emily: "Ok, take the 134 West to the 2 North to the 101 North to the 405 South, and that should get you there."

Me: "Ok. The 134 to the 2 to the 101 to the 405. I think I got it."

Now, Donna grew up in Utah and so she's used to the idea of a freeway. Having to cross many freeways in a single trip was a little less common for her, but still not mind-blowing. However, for her, a conversation about multiple freeways would probably go such:

Donna: "Ok, take I-15 North to I-80 West, and you'll be there."

Angela: "Ok, I-15 North to I-80 West. I think I got it."

Did you notice the difference? After living in Utah for about 6 years, I never had, so don't feel bad if you didn't.

What I discovered with Donna was that Californians tend to use the definite article "the" in front of the names of our freeways. We don't waste time mentioning whether the freeway is an interstate or not; it doesn't really matter, usually, because you won't be on the freeway long enough to change states. You'll be on another freeway--perhaps another two or three--within the next hour.

Utahns, however, have perhaps as many freeways to claim as they have fingers on one hand; therefore, they don't feel the same pressing need to shorten the titles of the freeways; after all, they rarely travel on two different freeways in the same day. Therefore, they ceremoniously refer to their freeways as "I-15" or "I-80." Though they usually don't intend to traverse the freeway long enough to change states, they still must mention that the freeway is an interstate one, so you could visit another state on it, if you'd like to. I think it's very endearing.

As long as you ask a Utahn about directions to I-15 or I-80, you will get very positive results. But start asking about directions to "the 15" and you'll probably get a blank stare or a pause for just a second--long enough for the person you're speaking with to think "Oh, the poor dear...obviously confused and mixed up. Who would ever call I-15, 'the 15'! Well, I won't make her (or him) feel bad...I'll just tell her (or him) how to get to I-15 and maybe someday she'll (or he'll) catch on." After which you'll get your directions.

But for the dear souls hoping to perhaps bridge this syntactic Utah-California gap, "the I-15" is apparently just as painful to hear as "the 15." Feel free to steer clear of both--just call it "I-15" and you'll be fine.