Saturday, July 23, 2011

my grandmother(s) are beautiful

My mom posted this photo of my grandma on her wedding day. I can't help but love it. She looks like a young Elizabeth Taylor. I love her smile with her charming little gap, her perfectly arched eyebrows, and I love love love that at my age, she also had very short hair. Her little tiara veil is too adorable. I asked my mom where my grandma's dress ended up. She doesn't know. My great grandma (on the left) made the entire dress by hand, beading and all.

I also love the look on my other great grandma's face (on the right). Maybe that's where I get my sass.

At times I really miss my grandma. She passed away two and a half years ago. Sometimes I think out of everyone in my family, she and I were the most alike. When her eye sight started to fail, I would drive to her house and read to her. We got nearly half way through Vanity Fair before I left for college. She loved books as much as I do. And she had this great sense of humor. I can still picture her face when she'd grin and laugh. In fact, I can even still hear her laugh when I think of it.

I like to think that shortly after this photo was taken, her eyes crinkled a little more and that laugh spilled out a little in joy.

Saturday, May 28, 2011

five things

1. Why do Mormon gatherings nearly always revolve around food and non-Mormon gatherings almost always around alcohol? Neither are socially appetizing to me.

2. I'm glad the art of radio isn't dead.

3. I think my insomnia is back but I can't say for sure. It's only been 3 days. Adam's certainly is. Perhaps I'm just feeling his lack of sleep.

4. NeuroBliss truly is bliss. I'm hoping NeuroSleep really is sleep.

5. I think I had other things to say but I'm so tired that I can't remember.

Thursday, April 21, 2011

photographic ordinary people are everywhere

i can't stop listening to the age of adz. i've cried multiple times in my many listenings over the past three days. i think "i want to be well" and "futile devices" may very well be perfect.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

so much. so little.

Today, for some reason, I've had the urge to "blog." About a lot of things actually. I've been following the Middle East and North Africa somewhat closely - counting casualties, testing the waters on just where I stand politically, worrying about people getting electricity and water, crying with the wailing women at the Bahraini funerals. It's been an interesting ride. Libya has turned into a game of Risk with fatal consequences that I can't entirely agree with, though I can't entirely disagree with either (I feel akin to Turkey though I understand the UN's impetus). And as the revolution marches on, into Syria, I can't help but feel a fullness in my heart. Every one of these revolutions has started with throngs of people peacefully stating that No, we will no longer take this. Meet our demands of equality, dignity and accountability or step down.

After recounting to Adam my shock at the 10 people who have already died in the 6 days of protest in Syria, he said "people die in revolutions." It's true. And I, like the anti-government coalitions, consider them martyrs. I wish in many ways I could be there with them, offering my support.

Briefly, I considered what this meant for our country. It's interesting. I wondered how the Tea Party militias feel. If they consider themselves one in the same as these "Arabs," even though I would assume most of them think any muslim must be a terrorist (perhaps that is closed minded of me, but I can't help but agree with Ron Schiller.). I find the stance the Middle East and North Africans have taken so much more noble. Their decision to stand together in non-sectarianism and fight for equality among the people, not just one religious group, is so much more honorable than to fight for a Christian Constitution that alienates any and every other affiliation (full irony noted).

I went for a drive last Sunday, just to get out of the house for a moment. And as I headed down Provo's main drag, suddenly I saw, barreling down the street toward me, a three-wheeler (what else does one call a three wheeled "motorcycle"?) with a small trailer behind it. In the trailer was a stuffed gorilla probably about my size with his arms propped up on what looked like a shotgun that lay the width of the trailer, and waving in the wind behind him the tell-tale yellow flag with a serpent and the words "Don't tread on me." Shocked and awed, I glanced into my rear-view for a second look but he was too far gone to see much more.

These groups are something I cannot understand. How can Peter King (or the new McCarthy) target Muslims in an attempt to monitor their "radicalization" without even glancing at these militias and teabaggers who are focusing on voting on state guns and extending justifiable homicide to protecting unborn fetuses (i.e. legalizing the executions of abortion doctors)? It makes no sense.

I feel a lot of frustration with our government, yes - particularly with their desire to protect the Libyan people, but their complete disregard of Bahrainis simply because they could never say no to their golden child, the one who will SURELY keep them out of the nursing home when they're old, Saudi Arabia - but more than that, I'm so incredibly frustrated with Americans. Who are we? Why do we care more about the thought of slight radiation hitting the shores of California than the hundreds of thousands of people displaced, missing or dead from twin disasters? And WHY would we rather read about which cast member most recently hurt themselves in the accident riddled Spider Man musical than pay attention to what's going to happen in the next 6 months - namely the ungodly rise of oil prices as we approach (or hit) peak oil and battle the oil-powered juggernaut that is China?

The world is about to change. For the better or worse... well, it depends on your geographical location and your need for oil... but either way, it simply cannot sustain itself the way it is. I'm praying that THIS is real, and not science fiction. If it is, we could very well be heading toward something of a Utopia. If it isn't, well, I suggest we, as a people, start coming together and making some positive changes, perhaps with the example of so many civilians flooding squares, mosques and streets in peaceful shouts of equality, dignity and - most importantly - ACCOUNTABILITY!

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

oh my

how lovely