Short and Sweet. And a Tumbleweed.

Yep. It's come to that.

I'll bet you got all excited that there's actually a new post here, and then there's just this tumbleweed. My apologies if this is you, because if that's what happened, you're probably that faithful person who checks the blog every few days "just in case" even though nothing's happened on it in a few months.

(And it's entirely possible that your name is Andrea. But if it isn't, hey, there...you!)

You'll hear from me next year. Till then, make the most of these last two days of 2013.

And, because I want to avoid angry comments...here are 10 random nouns that have to do with my 2013.

10 Things of 2013

1. Book. I've read 31 of them this year! (33 if you count the two I read twice (The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky and The Fault in Our Stars by John Green))
2. Music. I listened to a lot of it this year, and sang a lot of wonderful stuff with my wonderful choir.
3. Joseph. I have a brother named that! But also..."Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat" was my first role in a Bethel Theatre production this past February. I have never understood the Biblical story of Joseph (and his seduction by Mrs. Potiphar) so well.
4. Ballet shoes. I bought my first pair and took my first ballet class this year, which was fun because taking ballet was on my bucket list.
5. Amsterdam. I finally know where this is and am intimately familiar with its history as a result of "The Diary of Anne Frank." (Also, it's an awesome song by Imagine Dragons. I listened to it every day before rehearsal the last few weeks of the show.)
6. Script. Under the direction of Clarence Gilyard, I learned how to really read one.
7. Minnesota. My favorite place I visited this year. Beautiful.
8. Buick. My beautiful Buick LeSabre died this year :( R.I.P. Mobie (so named because she wailed/whaled)!
9. Blog. Well hey! I started one of these this year. I may not be doing the greatest job of running it, but hey, I have one!
10. Jesus. He was the boss of this year and will be in charge of all those to come. And thank goodness, because I don't have a clue what I'm doing.

Are you thinking, "She should do three more since it's 2013!"? Well I thought about it, but that would make me Christhirteen. Which would just be weird.

See you next year, faithful blog readers!

From Apartment to Annex (and back again)

(tap...tap) Is this thing on?

Okay, I'm REALLY, REALLY SORRY that I haven't blogged anything in about a month and a half. If it makes you feel any better, I feel somewhat bad about it. Just a little.

Mostly, it's the result of how I've been really, really busy. This semester I am taking 17 credit hours including 8 classes. It didn't sound like much on paper for some reason, so I didn't think my semester would be too out of the ordinary, especially because a lot of these classes are electives and rumor has it you're supposed to be able to relax a little your senior year and blah blah blah...

Well those were filthy, rotten lies! Even before the play (which I'm going to talk about shortly), I was up to my ears in homework, real work, classes, clubs, etc. It sounds like I'm complaining, but it actually felt really good to be so busy. And now, as many probably know, I have been blessed with the privilege of working with professional actor (and, okay, kind of one of my childhood TV heroes) Clarence Gilyard

                                                                      (^this guy)
on Bethel's fall drama, "The Diary of Anne Frank."

And when I say blessed, I really mean it. I don't remember what I was expecting, exactly, when I auditioned. Subconsciously, I don't think I thought I would make it. The whole audition process was very intimidating this time around because we were asked to prepare two one-minute monologues and a sixteen-bar song, the callbacks lasted over four hours, and...oh yeah...the director was on Walker, Texas Ranger. I'd done music auditions, I'd done monologue auditions; but I'd never had an audition ask for more than one monologue and a song on top of that, and I'd certainly never auditioned in front of someone I grew up watching on TV. I remember standing outside the audition room as I was "on deck" to audition--I hadn't yet met Professor Gilyard and had no idea what to expect--talking to A.J. (friend, ASM and "dramaturgy extraordinaire") and trying to calm myself down. I'd been supernaturally calm that whole day (thanks to the many who were praying for me), but the nerves really hit me right before I went in. "He's just a guy, right, A.J.?" I asked. "He's just a guy," he confirmed. When the door opened up, I took a breath and just walked. I acted confident and did my monologues, sang my song, succeeded in not making a fool of myself (yet) in front of Professor Gilyard, even succeeded in making him laugh once. I felt good, and I felt even better when I got the callback. When I saw my name on the cast list next to "Mrs. van Daan" that Friday, I just about had a heart attack. The thought that Professor Gilyard saw something in me that was worthy of being onstage was so beyond me, and I couldn't stop smiling and answering text messages in all caps.

Then rehearsals started, and I sobered up. At our first rehearsal (the very Friday we were cast), Professor Gilyard told us that oftentimes when he was cast, he immediately thought to himself, "What have I gotten myself into?" I was hit with a heavy dose of that after our first readthrough of the show, and continue to be hit with it almost daily now. This show is unlike anything I've ever been a part of. It's easily the hardest thing project I've ever been involved in. Four hours per day six days a week, the fourteen of us transition into the Annex, into the dreadful circumstances the Frank and van Pels (van Daan) families and Mr. Dussel faced, into the danger Miep and Mr. Kraler faced in aiding them. It is incredibly difficult. I would honestly argue that transitioning back into real life in 2013 and going back to my campus apartment full of giggling girls is a lot harder. The immense amount of research we have to do, the homework, the line memorization, the lessons on acting in such a way that I'm not really acting, the focus it takes to remember that I'm barely Christen anymore but almost entirely Mrs. van Daan...it absolutely wears me out. And I adore it.

I still look back on that moment around 8:00 am on that Friday morning when I opened the e-mail attachment with the cast list and saw my name on the list, and I feel that rush of giddiness again. I remember the audition process and how throughout it I felt the prayers of people who were on my side, I felt that Jesus-y peace about everything I was pouring into the audition, I felt very much like Professor Gilyard saw me. Most of all I think about the amazing opportunity this is and how I still can't believe it was granted to me...and I just can't believe I'm here. I don't have to do this; I get to do it. I didn't have to go through with the audition when I found out how intimidating it would be. I didn't have to accept the role. This is my pleasure, my joy.

So people keep asking me how rehearsals are going, which I really appreciate because I love talking about it and because, again, I still can't believe I get to do this. My usual response is something along the lines of, "It's great! It's really intense, but really good." I keep it to a few sentences like this because I could go on for a while and most people...well...let's let Sweet Brown say it instead.

So I thought I'd take this opportunity to elaborate a bit on some of the aspects of this show. It has been a pleasure thus far to step into the Annex and watch this story come alive. Hope you enjoy!

10 Things I have to say about this production of "The Diary of Anne Frank"

1. "Clarence Gilyard is..." A lot of people--including himself--describe him as "intense," and they're all correct. He's very passionate about this play and he expects his actors to take it seriously. He also expects a lot out of his actors, but he makes sure we know it's because he knows we're capable of it. It's so amazing to have a professional actor believe in you. Yes, he's stern. He will make you go through a sequence of lines a million times until you get it just right, and he'll expect you to do it even better from that point on. But when you do get it right, he is so excited. "YES!" he'll exclaim. "THAT'S IT! EVERYBODY GIVE ______ A HAND!" He is indeed intense, but it is never without purpose. Personally, I really appreciate having a professor who challenges me this much.
2. It's really cool to see your professor on TV. I was working at the Acorn the other afternoon and, of all things, Walker, Texas Ranger was on one of the TVs. Every time Ranger Trivette (see first photo) popped up on the screen, I squealed like a kid and exclaimed, "Hey guys! That's my professor!!!" to whoever happened to be in the line at the time. I mean, it's one thing when a professor gets interviewed for the evening news and you see him once for about ten seconds. It's another when he's got a principal role in multiple TV shows and movies. I've been pretty good about not acting like a crazed fangirl around Professor Gilyard, mostly because during rehearsal I tend to forget that he's famous. But every so often, I remember it and things like this happen. I told him that evening, "Hey, I saw you at the Acorn today...because Walker was on TV." He laughed and said, "Yeah? Was I kicking somebody's butt?!" I love it.
3. We have the greatest cast. The fourteen-ish actors we have in our cast ranged anywhere from "oh yeah, I love that person!" to "I don't think I've ever seen that person in my life." At this point, they have all easily moved to the first category. I think the size of the cast and the heaviness of the play knits us even closer together, and I'm so happy I get to work with the group we have. I also really think the actors were perfectly selected for their roles. Oh, which reminds me...
4. It is so amazing to watch the cast come alive in their characters. Professor Gilyard has been working us really hard on making ourselves believable in our characters--which goes back to the whole "acting without looking like we're acting" thing I mentioned briefly before. It's interesting because a lot of the actors are no strangers to the Bethel stage, so you might have an idea what to expect when you see them act. But let me just say, you won't even recognize your friends and colleagues anymore. During rehearsal, I frequently forget we're in a play and that the characters are really actors I've known for years. Elaina (stage manager extraordinaire) will call "Okay, guys, take five!" and I'm all surprised because here I thought we didn't get to leave the Annex. This goes for outside of rehearsal as well; people ask how the show's coming along and I'm like, "Oh yeah...it's a show." Maybe the fact that it once was real life makes it more believable, but I know the acting has made it a lot more possible.
5. We legitimately spend one full day per week in rehearsal. I don't do much math, but I know that four (hours per day) times six (days per week) equals twenty-four (hours in a day). Typically, Bethel shows require about three hours per night and only five days a week. The extra hour per day and day per week definitely make a difference. This is amazing to me. We're a little less than halfway through the rehearsal process and we are "officially" off book now. So with three more weeks of rehearsal--twenty-four hours per week--I just can't wait to see where the show will end up. It is a big time commitment to be involved in this show, but it's also really amazing to be able to put this much time into it. It's going to help the show out a lot.
6. We have the greatest stage managers. Elaina (stage manager) and A.J. (assistant stage manager and dramaturge (oh, and I totally don't know the rules for when to use dramaturge/dramaturg/dramaturgy, so I'm super sorry if an error is made)) are the perfect team for the cast to work with on this show. My top three reasons for this (but surely not the only reasons) are: (A) they're both left-handed, (B) they're both gingers, and (C) they coordinate their clothes without even meaning to:
   
   Plus they offer the correct ratio of whip-cracking and chillness needed for this show. So much win.
7. Assignments with A.J. Since this is a very historically-significant play, the cast partakes in frequent history lessons with our dramaturgy (see aforementioned disclaimer on usage of this word) A.J. This week we had to read through the 613 Mitzvot (commandments) of Judaism and come up with questions about specific laws. (Let me just say I never want to hear another Christian complain about having to memorize the 10 Commandments. That's totally not allowed anymore.) It's a lot of work, but it's very helpful to immerse ourselves in the circumstances of our characters. Sometimes it's tough because of the subject matter--honestly, I have a really hard time taking in that much information about the concentration camps and what went on there. But it is necessary to realize what was at stake for those in the Annex to be able to do this story any justice. 
8. This is more than just a play. It is a story that needs to be told. It is heavy stuff, but it is the kind of stuff that could change lives. We never know who might be in the audience and what it might mean to them. This is a very important play because it really happened, because we see history unfolding before us. 
9. It wasn't all gloom. You will laugh, too. There are some seriously funny moments in this play, and a lot of them are funny because they portray real life and we can so easily relate. There are a lot of moments during rehearsal when we have to work on not laughing at someone else's line, or when we need to pause for a moment to get all the laughs out at something happening onstage. For me, this is the beauty of the play--seeing that it wasn't two years of pure misery and gloom. Those things had their place, for sure, but there were also good times to be had. Maybe not many, but they were there. You will see them. 
10. You need to see it. Really, guys. We open on October 31 (THIS MONTH!). If there is one show you don't want to miss, it's this one. I think you will understand why once you've seen it. Words aren't quite enough to describe it. Tickets are going to sell fast, and you can get them here or call the ticket office (the number of which is on that page). You'll want to get them soon. Believe me, it's worth it.

*Bonus list item: My parents rock, because they have been praying for me and supporting me so diligently throughout this process. I so look forward to the times I get to call them and tell them what went on in rehearsal the day before, and I really can't wait for them to see this play.

So now you have a little more info than I've been able to give you previously! My apologies in advance if you don't hear a lot from me in the coming weeks as things will only get busier as the show draws near. I'll do my best to keep you posted on life, and I thank you for caring and reading. Y'all rock.

A Happy, Happy, Happy Summer [Reading Review]

Hello again, diligent blog-readers! Well, you may have noticed my blog has not seen much in the way of wordage in the last month and a half or so. (Honestly, I'm just happy the page wasn't covered with dust and tumbleweeds when I opened it back up.) But hey! I've got a valid excuse. In the last two months, I have been so busy as a result of my rising success as an amateur entrepreneur that...

Just kidding. I'm honestly surprised I spelled "entrepreneur" correctly on the first try.

The truth is I don't have a great excuse for not blogging. I was waiting on a good, relevant topic to write about and in the process I got caught up just plain living life. Sometimes no news is good news, you know?

Well. Summer is coming to an end. I wish I'd been able to blog more diligently during the last few months; the change of scenery from dorm to farm could've been nice. But oh well. I've got other things to think about as I set out for my final year of college.

(Yeah. I've also been watching a lot of Duck Dynasty.)

The last few summers--before my sophomore and junior years, that is--seemed to trudge by, like when you try to run in a dream and are astonished at how heavy your feet have become. This one, on the other hand, seriously flew by. I keep looking back at my pictures from choir tour and thinking, "Didn't I just get back from that???" It doesn't seem possible that that was nearly four months ago, as was the last time I talked to...well, a whole lotta people.

So am I ready to go back?

Ehhh...not really.

Usually by this point I'm bouncing off the walls, but this year I've really enjoyed my time at home. I'm not ready to swap the quiet country for the siren-laced city (and I know true cityfolk will tell me that Bethel's stretch of Mishawaka hardly qualifies as "city," but hey, compared to what I'm used to? It's THE city). The country makes sense to me. Going back to school means having to analyze countless situations--not to mention people--that may or may not actually have a solution. But I did move some of my stuff into my new room today, and I've got to say that helped excite me for the new year. I am indeed super excited to see my friends again, and even excited about some of my classes! And guys, guess what?! A week from today--Friday--I will once again be sitting in choir! Ah, how sweet it is.

So yeah, I've enjoyed my summer. It's been a very unexpected delight as I expected to be working and keeping very busy, and in reality I have been doing all that but I've been doing it all at home because I didn't actually find a job. That's another one of the perks of living on a farm; there's always something to do, something to make you feel like you're contributing to the world. Plus, the lack of a job has given me the opportunity to do some great things I wouldn't have been able to do otherwise.

For one, I've been able to go help out at my Opa's house with my dad a few times a week. Opa turns 82 today (Friday the 23rd, depending on when you're reading this) and has given up driving, so the rest of the family has been helping him out in whatever ways we are able/necessary. He's still sharp as a whip, especially when it comes to wisdom and humor--and he's one of those rare people who can mix the two effectively. It's been, again, an unexpected joy to help Opa out this summer and get to spend more time with him.

For another, I've begun sponsoring a child in Haiti. I know it sounds weird to say that I wouldn't have been able to do this if I hadn't not been able to find a job, but for some reason that's what it took to get me to actually do this. I've thought countless times about sponsoring a child, but I always thought, "I'll do it next semester when I'm working more hours and making more money." This summer, as I'm pretty much poorer than I've ever been in life, I realized that if I can't take it upon myself to help a child when I'm at my worst, I'll never do it when I'm at my best. Besides, it's $20 per month. Honestly, I spend more than that on myself per month regardless of my job situation. Which is pretty sad. So it was like humble pie, I suppose, and I'm doing my best to eat it daily. It was so exciting to pick out a child to sponsor from the wall of children in need of sponsorship, and so difficult to pick just one! I settled on a beautiful little girl named Sophonia Ocean, who will be ten years old next month. I just had a good feeling about her. I'll admit it's a little odd getting requests for child support payments in the mail, but it's totally awesome. Future goals include (A) meeting pretty Sophonia and (B) sponsoring another child, although that one will have to wait till I am in better standing.

Finally, I've been able to take advantage of summer for its reading opportunities--which is actually why I'm writing this anyway! The chance to finally read for pleasure is one of my very favorite parts of any school break, and I definitely took advantage of it this summer. I think my total count of books read is somewhere around 14 or 15, which isn't as many as I'd have liked, but it was soooooo nice to just read again. I never did understand the people who don't read. I mean, I "get it," but I don't get it. You know?

Anyway. Here are my 10 favorite reads of the summer, plus a few bonus points at the end because I couldn't make up my mind. Good to be back, blog readers!

[NOTE: These are listed in the order in which they were read, not by ranking.]

Chris-10's Top 10 Summer Reads:

1. Push by Sapphire. I picked this one up at a Goodwill on 50% off day and read it almost in one sitting. This novel, which inspired the 2009 film Precious, is all of about 150 pages but it has enough story to span at least twice that. It's the story of a young mother, abused in unimaginable ways, who learns to use writing as a means of turning her life around for herself and her child. It is anything but light reading and if you're offended by intensely crude language, you'll probably want to keep your distance. It's also pretty hard to read because of the way Precious, the narrator, talks--but that's one of the beautiful parts of the book, too, because you can actually watch her improve. 
2. The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton. This is one of the only books I can ever remember having to read for school and actually enjoying. I decided to give it another read this summer since it's been a while, and I'm so glad I did. This book is the exceptionally well-written story of a young man named Ponyboy (real name) essentially trying to overcome the gang life. I discovered after reading it a second time that S.E. Hinton was just 15 when she started writing the novel and 18 when it was published. I wish I'd done something cool like that.
3. The Help by Kathryn Stockett. You know how when everybody says a book is really good or a really fast read, you like, unintentionally stop believing it'll be any good? That's what this was for me. I'd seen the movie and figured it honestly couldn't be much better than that, but I was way wrong. The movie was very good and followed the book rather well, but this was an amazing story. It was really eye-opening to me since I haven't really lived in the time of maids or, for the most parts, racism. I also really appreciated how Ms. Stockett told the story through the voices of 3 different characters, each of whom had a very different voice/vernacular, and she switched back and forth between them flawlessly.
4. The Green Mile by Stephen King. So, books don't usually make me cry. And I figured that since I'd seen the movie and it made me tear up but not really cry that I'd be fine. But this book really got to me in a different way than the movie did. King's The Green Mile is the story of an inmate on death row, and it's told through the vantage point of the prison guard who oversaw all the executions. The story takes you through their respective stories and surprises you in the true natures of every character. It is not one of King's famous horror novels, but rather a novel with a supernatural flair. Oh, and it tugs at your heartstrings like crazy. Plus The Green Mile is actually a serial novel, which means it was released in five separate mini-novel installments. I'm really glad I got ahold of it after all the installments were released and I could buy it as one book, because that would have driven me crazy. But it is an amazing book, and to me, the way it was released is yet another example of King's genius in writing. I feel like he was sitting at his writing desk and thinking, "Let's see. I could do another novel, but that's what they'd be expecting. OOOOH! I'll write it as five little baby novels!" I can see how it would've built up suspense if you'd had to wait on each installment, which I'm sure was an added bonus.
5. Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson. This is one of those books that all the other girls read in middle school and I just got to this year. It's the story of a girl named Melinda who is starting her freshman year in high school as an outcast-squared as the result of something that happened that summer. She decided, because of this, to just not speak to anyone. The great thing about this book is--well, yes, it has an amazing story--but Melinda is downright hilarious. I love it when a serious topic can be intermingled with humor, and this is a great example of that. Also, it has a happy ending. Which is good, because the alternative would've been pretty depressing in this case.
6. Walk Two Moons by Sharon Creech. I actually read this one when I was in seventh grade and didn't think a whole lot of it, but I'd found it--yet again--at Goodwill on a 50% off day, so I decided to give it another go. This time through, I was blown away by the amazing story I sloughed off so many years ago. It's the story of a young girl Sal and her relentless search for her mother who left years ago, told to her grandparents as they take a roadtrip from Ohio to Idaho to find said mother. The grandparents are kooky and hilarious; and I was super excited that not only did they mention traveling through Indiana, but Elkhart and South Bend were actually mentioned by name. As I recall, the grandfather said to the grandmother, "Don't you remember Elkhart? We ate lunch in Elkhart. Don't you remember South Bend? You took a pee in South Bend." LOVE IT. And the ending had the tears rolling, and once again I wondered how this didn't happen the first time I read the book. Ah, how perceptions change from seventh grade...
7. The Fault in Our Stars by John Green. So, this book automatically gets points because (A) John Green has a writing style that actually makes a person laugh out loud, and (B) he's from Indiana! But seriously, this book was beautiful. It is about a seventeen year-old cancer patient named Hazel who meets a fellow survivor named Augustus (unfortunately called Gus) at a support group. I know, you have probably just figured out the rest of the story...but you actually probably haven't. I won't say too much because I don't want to spoil anything, but this one is definitely worth a read and definitely good if you need an emotion-laced read.
8. And the Mountains Echoed by Khaled Hosseini. I remember when I saw the posters up for this novel back in April before its release, I nearly squealed like a little girl. I love Hosseini's writing. I had to read The Kite Runner in high school and it was so good that I read his second novel, A Thousand Splendid Suns, which is one of my all-time favorites. So I had high hopes for this book, along with some ideas of what it would be like. Hosseini's work is usually incredibly fast-paced, thrilling, emotional, and eye-opening, so I figured this would be every bit as intense as his other works. And it...wasn't. I guess he decided to try his hand at subtlety, because this was not intense, nothing like his previous books. BUT...it was nonetheless amazing. I don't know how to describe the plot because it covers a lot of territory and somewhere around 70 years of time passage, not to mention multiple points of view, shifts in past and present tenses, character voices, and even languages. And once I took my expectations back and let the story tell itself, I realized he nailed it. So if you haven't read it yet, reevaluate how you think it will go and just read it. I think you'll be surprised like I was. This book was beautiful, an amazing piece of craftsmanship. 
9. P.S, I Love You by Cecelia Ahern. Total girl novel, I know. But you  know, maybe it shouldn't be. This story is about a 30 year-old woman who's just lost her husband to a brain tumor and her journey towards healing with a little help from her friends, family, and the letters her late husband left her. If you've seen the movie, it's the same idea but there are major differences in the story. I still love the movie, but this book was amazing. It was almost 500 pages in the small paperback edition I have, but it flew by and I was sad when it was over. I think anyone who's experienced loss could relate, and they'll find themselves laughing aloud along the way.
10. Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury. I know, I know, everybody else read this in school. Well, I didn't! I'd even tried to read it multiple times before and was never successful and getting through the first few pages. This time, however, the timing must've just been right because I nearly devoured this book. It's an eerie tale of a futuristic America in which it is illegal to read/own books, so all books and the dwellings in which they were found must be burned by the firemen--who, yes, now start fires rather than putting them out. It's always interesting to see what people of the past thought the future would look like, and it's always a little freaky when they get some things right. 

Honorable Mentions To:

• The Chosen by Chaim Potok. The only reason this one doesn't make the top 10 is because technically my summer had not yet begun when I read it. I started it during the school year and finished it on choir tour, so it may or may not count and for technical reasons I figured I'd knock it out. But it's totally  worth mentioning because it was a surprisingly beautiful book. It's the story of the unlikely friendship of two boys from different Jewish sects. The story was heartwarming and surprised me at every turn. Knowing what little I knew about the novel--we studied it briefly during my freshman year at BC and I promptly forgot most of the plot--I was not expecting the book to be as readable as it was, or to find myself near tears as the story wrapped up while I was on a bus to Minnesota surrounded by my peers. It's not exactly "light reading," but if you're looking for something that will enlighten you and make you think, you should definitely give it a read.
        Also, my copy smelled really good.
• True Grit by Charles Portis. I was amazed to find myself picking this book up this past May and even more amazed to find myself glued to it. I've never really been into Westerns, but there was a lot of raw emotion to this book and golly, it went by fast. It's the story of a 14 year-old girl named Mattie who sets off with a bounty hunter to avenge her father's murder. And I'm like, "Yeah! Gutsy female protagonist! Get it!"  But it lost points because (A) there was an incident with a pony dying (go ahead and judge, but I really can't handle animal deaths in media) and (B) I didn't care for the ending. Endings can really make or break a story--it can be the most amazing thing you've ever heard, but if the ending gets botched, it ruins the whole thing.

Just Stay Away From:

• Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen. Okay, you don't actually have to "stay away from" this book if you don't want to. I mean, read it and decide for yourself. But personally, *sigh* I had suuuuuuch high hopes for this book. The storyline was stellar--what's cooler than a man, overcome by his circumstances, getting picked up by the circus?--and the movie was one of those I expected to be good and then it ended up being even better than I expected. I know they say that if a book is made into a movie, you automatically prefer the one you saw first...for me, I've really never found that to be true. But anyway. The big problem with this book for me was that I found myself just despising the main character, Jacob. He wasn't a bad guy or anything, but as I read on I realized that if I actually met someone who acted like him--attitude-wise, decision-wise, etc.--I'd probably want to punch him in the face. The even sadder thing is that it was one of those novels that like, starts off with Jacob in a nursing home in his nineties and then the story is told through flashbacks/dreams from when he was in his twenties, and I couldn't stand Old Man Jacob either. He might actually have been even worse than his twenty-something self. So yeah, this one was a disappointment. For once the movie was better. It did, however, deepen my desire to have a pet elephant.

So there you have it! If you have differing opinions on any of these books, PLEASE, do tell! I love book chats and arguing about literature. I thank you all for being such cool people and reading this blog and making me feel better about myself. Y'all rock.

Listening to Country, Eating Crow

I think it's safe to say the vast majority of arguments my brother Joe and I had growing up were somehow caused by country music. Joe loved country music; I hated it. I know--I live in a town with more cows than people and we have an FFA-sponsored "Drive a Tractor to School Day" every year at NorthWood High School; that makes me the odd one out. I wanted rock or pop or quite honestly anything but country. For the longest time, it was one of about three genres of music I just couldn't stand. But Joe's older than me, got to drive before me, and by golly, he would have his way when it came to what we listened to on the radio. I can't tell you how many rides to school were punctuated by my begging him to change the channel and his grinning and saying, "When you get to drive, you pick what's on."

Well, now I'm a big girl! I've been driving long enough to have to renew my licence! And I'm listening to...

Country music.

Guys, I have no idea how this happened. If you do, please tell me. Because as the Good Lord is my witness, I'm loading over half my presets with country stations and planning on going to country music festivals with my brother and sister-in-law. I don't get it, but I'm, well, I'm "eating crow," as Andy Griffith used to say. (Nobody uses that expression anymore. Maybe they figured out crow is really high in cholesterol or something?)

It's a recent thing. Not even joking, one night I was sitting in my dorm room, scrolling through my Spotify, and I said (maybe even aloud), "I want to listen to country!" I had no idea why--still don't--but knew that's what I wanted to listen to. So I put on a country playlist created by someone far better versed in said genre than I, and I haven't looked back.

You know what I think it is? I mean, don't get me wrong, some of it is indeed the sheer craftsmanship of the music--I'm a sucker for good harmonies and well-used mandolins. But honestly, I think after three years of college in Mishawaka--legitimately city living for someone like me--I've finally realized that country music sounds like home. Not my home specifically--Dad and I always went for classic rock growing up; and I listen to Aerosmith when I'm truly homesick--but like my hometown. FINALLY, people are enthusiastically making music about tractors and cruising through country roads in big trucks! It's not all about going to the club and singing "baby" when you can't decide what to write next. Okay, you've still got your beer-drinking songs in country music. In fact, you've got quite a few of those. But you listen to this music and realize that somewhere out there, morals and appreciation of the little things still exist. You listen to this music and you can hear that the artists are making music because the music, not the money, is so important to them. You listen to this music, and for the duration of one song you truly know the artist. These songs represent who they are, how they were raised, the very core of their existence in some cases. You could be listening to their song, or you could be sitting at the breakfast table with them, shooting the breeze over a glass of sweet tea. It's not just a song, it's an experience. That's what music ought to be.

Now, in saying all of this, I'm not by any means hating on all my other favorite non-country songs. Most of my all-time favorite artists from the UK, for goodness sake. Country music is kind of the anchor that reminds me where I'm from, and reminds me that you can do anything in good old America, including making great music. Once a year, everybody dons red, white, and blue and sings, "God bless America!" But country artists essentially sing that song every day, just written differently. It's like when Thanksgiving comes around and people say we should be thankful year-round. Shouldn't we be grateful for this rockin' country we live in--every day? Just something I've been thinking of while listening to Darius Rucker.

It's just weird sometimes. There are a lot of country songs I heard back in the days when I pulled the short stick and had to listen to my brother's radio stations, and I vividly remember them sounding like nails on a chalkboard. But now they come on the radio, I listen, and I turn up the radio and smile. Perfect example: Zac Brown Band's "Toes." Hated it. But it was playing while I was driving the other week and I was so confused as to why I was grinning from ear to ear. It's like I get it now.

Dude. Weird.

I thought about telling you my ten favorite country songs, but I've done things like that a few times already and it's probably starting to get old. Plus I'm super excited about the list I actually came up with, mostly because I'm still learning about this style of music that I've been saturated in all my life and am just now getting into. But, in case you were really dying to know a few of my favorites (as I'm sooooo sure you were), I'll squeeze in a non-ten number of them in a non-list format immediately following the actual list.

Ten Things I've Learned Since Starting to Listen to Country Music

1. Real country music enthusiasts hate Rascal Flatts. I never quite figured out why this is, but it must be true because I've always liked Rascal Flatts. Maybe in ten years I'll hate them, too. Although honestly, I hope I don't :P
2. Apparently one more beer song is always necessary. I mean, most pop songs are almost exclusively about drinking or partying or something of the sort. Country has to have its own sort of equivalent. Now, country beer-drinking songs are a lot classier than pop drinking songs are (not to be confused with pop-drinking songs, which would be about drinking pop, because there is nothing wrong with a good ol' pop-drinking song), but there are some really downright funny titles out there. The ever popular "Beer for My Horses," "Beers Ago," "Pretty Good at Drinking Beer" (oooh you must be talented!), and my personal favorite title, "Beer Thirty." You must've had a few if you thought up that last one.    
3. Tractors are cool. So cool that songs actually get written about them! And, okay, I have to share this story: So I was with my family at an open house for a John Deere dealership a few years ago. They had this big white tent, a skidloader bucket full of ice and Pepsi, and country music blasting from speakers. Suddenly, Craig Morgan's "International Harvester" starts playing. Okay, guys, this is an awesome song. It definitely captures the spirit of driving a tractor down a busy road at 25 mph. But, just in case you don't know about tractors, the rivalry between IH and John Deere is like the one between USC and Notre Dame. So naturally, the tables previously filled with the sounds farmers talking farmer talk exploded with shouts of, "TURN THAT #$%^& OFF!" and the like.
        Because tractor songs are fantastic. Just as long as it's the right tractor.
        And I am my father's daughter. And the right tractor is John Deere.
4. Your "violin" is now a "fiddle." I've had my violin for about a year and a half now and I'm pretty sure my brother has never once called it a violin. Because in country music, it's a fiddle. That's what it is.
5. Who needs a tenor when you can have a bass? Josh Turner. Trace Adkins. Ladies and gents, Mr. Johnny Cash. Need I say more? Which reminds me...
6. You don't mess with a Johnny Cash song. Remember when Adam Lambert was on American Idol and he did his own little spin of "Ring of Fire"? Okay, I liked it. But keep in mind that (A) this was in my country music-hatin' days, and (B) I, well, okay I really liked Adam Lambert. In hindsight, I listen to the original song and think, "Holy crap, I can see why this ticked people off." I'm really, really curious what the Man in Black would have thought of that rendition of his song. But his true fans? They hated it.
         And, side note, one of the items on my bucket list is to successfully learn all the cities listed in "I've Been Everywhere" in order. Then to sing it without passing out. I don't know, though. It's gonna be rough.
7. If you're a man, you should have a truck. But not just any truck..."a jacked-up Chevy with a lift kit." Is it way too big for a normal parking space? Does it run on diesel? Does it have giant chrome stacks protruding from somewhere prominent? If the answer to any of these questions is "no," you're doing it wrong. And if you're a woman, you are clearly falling over men who drive those trucks. And you probably dig that southern drawl and want to take the truck out muddin'.
8. Harmony > Autotune. Lawd have mercy. I have yet to hear a country song with any hint of autotune in it--okay, except for that remix of "Cruise," which doesn't really count and which I still don't know how I feel about because I really love Florida Georgia Line's original. In country music, you hear the singer's voice. I think I can safely say I've never heard a country artist who didn't have an amazing set of pipes. You hear a few voices expertly harmonizing, you hear the rich timbre of once voice; and you undoubtedly hear that twang.
9. The smaller the town, the greater the pride. We heard "California Girls" and "New York State of Mind." And honestly, wherever you're from, I'm glad if you're proud to be from there. But so few people write about those small towns. I'm from a town of a little over 2000 people and, as I've said at least once, quite a few more cows. When I first heard "Where I Come From" by Montgomery Gentry, I think my jaw dropped and I said to myself, "Holy poop, this is about Wakarusa." I don't know what town it's actually about, but it speaks for the little towns like the one that raised me. There's a lot of wonderful things in those small towns. I'm glad music sees that, too.
10. Christ is still King. You can't confess to having a savior in pop music, not unless it's yourself or a bottle of pills or something that really has no power to save. In country music, you have an opportunity to hear the gospel that you don't have in any other secular genre. Granted it isn't every song that you hear it; but oh, you do hear it. "Muddy Water" by Trace Adkins, for instance. It's mainstream music--or at least, it was back when it first came out and I was still hating on country music--and you're hearing about the baptism of a formerly broken man. I love that. Nobody's perfect. Country music is where it's okay to admit that.

And finally, a few of the country songs I can never get enough of..."Where I Come From" by Montgomery Gentry, "Wagon Wheel" by Darius Rucker, "Poison & Wine" by The Civil Wars, "Free" by Zac Brown Band, and "Would You Go With Me" by Josh Turner. And, just because it almost perfectly describes my new attitude toward the whole genre, "Songs About Me" by one of the only "real" country artists I've always loved, Trace Adkins.

How else do I end this post?

'Merica.

What is that Strange Sound???

Don't panic. I'm still here.

At a friend's wedding last week, someone pointed out to me with something like panic in her voice the fact that I hadn't blogged in several weeks. A few others then voiced their similar urgings that I blog immediately! and so on. This was kind of interesting. I hadn't realized anyone liked my blog that much. But then, there's the fact that in order to blog, one needs a topic. And I haven't had any of those of late. So I said, "Okay, what should I blog about?" Nobody had any suggestions. Well, except for Patrick Forgey, who said I should blog about chickens. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately), all I know about chickens is that they are sometimes named Kevin and they can say moo.

Don't ask.

Then I remembered I'd wanted to do a music blog post and I was like, hey! I could finally do that! And that pretty much leads us up to this point right here.

In the 2007 film Across the Universe, a musical drama inspired by the songs of the Beatles, guitarist Jojo says at one point, "Music's the only thing makes sense anymore. If you play it loud enough, it keeps the demons away." I always liked that quote.

I have always loved music; and, as Jojo said, it's always made sense in a way nothing else did. I was never an athlete in any way, shape, or form; but I grew up singing to the cows in the barn. I've always been hungry for new tunes, for a new melody that was unlike anything I'd ever heard before. There's this feeling that comes with powerful music--you can turn the volume all the way up in your headphones, close your eyes, and feel the music swallow you up. And if it's that song, that new melody or amazing instrumental section, you don't want to let it spit you out when the song is over. *sigh* It's a good feeling.

I've also always been kind of a big fan of those obscure songs. I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing when they don't stay obscure for long--I suppose the artist should be happy, but the rest of us are kind of sad that someone discovered our secret. But you know, the songs they play to death on the radio--those are really good for about a week. And then everyone starts singing them all the time and using their lyrics as status updates with some sort of tag like "ahhh it's like [insert artist name here] put my feelings to music! <3 " and within a month or so nobody wants to hear that song anymore. But those obscure songs, they're like secret watering holes. You only tell a precious few about them because you don't want them to get so popular that the awesomeness dries up; but I mean, you have to tell somebody about this revelation! To withhold it would be a great disservice, wouldn't it?

So, in confidence that you will cherish these songs as I have and allow them to remain little-known until they're ready to step into the limelight, I've decided to share with you ten of my favorite "obscure-ish" songs. My goal is that (A) you'll only have already heard of one or two of them, if any, and (B) maybe one of them will show you something you didn't know before.

10 Songs You've Probably Never Heard Of (but should go check out):

1. "Broadripple is Burning" by Margot and the Nuclear So & So's. I discovered this one earlier this year and it's unexpectedly become one of my all-time favorite songs. It tells a sad story of a dwindling small town, accompanied by simple guitar and a gorgeous sorrowful harmonica part. Seriously, does anything make a heart bleed like a harmonica? I will warn you that this one contains one or two instances of profanity, if you are opposed to that sort of thing or plan on showing it to your ultra-conservative grandmother. But I love this song. 
2. "Down in the Valley" by The Head and the Heart. I even love the title of this song. Other than that, I can't put my finger on what specifically makes it so great. I just know that it is. You know that old saying, "less is more"? I feel like that's what's been done here. It doesn't overdo anything; as Baby Bear would say, it's "just right." It's a man's honest view of life, and has the recurring line, "Lord, have mercy on my rough and rowdy ways." You don't hear that kind of plea very often in secular music. But it's out there if you listen for it.
3. "Vapour Trail" by Ride. It's one of those love songs with lyrics you sort of get, sort of don't, but it doesn't matter in the end because it sounds awesome and the melody makes sense. The real stunner of this song, however, is found in the strings at the end. The last minute or so features a string quartet, and I could listen to it play all day long. Mmmm.
4. "On Your Porch" by The Format. Before Fun. frontman Nate Reuss' voice was everywhere (and it should be--it's amazing), it was found in an American indie rock band called The Format. I didn't so much care for this song at first, but it really grew on me. There's a good story in it, something many can probably relate to. It's got good, appropriately-placed harmonies and just might make you cry. 
5. "Anywhere" by Evanescence. So I had this phase, growing up, this Evanescence phase, and during that time I pretty much got a hold of everything Evanescence ever put out and memorized it all. "Anywhere" is easily my favorite thing they've ever done. Unfortunately, it was on an album they released way early on and it's pretty hard to find (but don't panic, Youtube has the song). This song will remind you why you loved Amy Lee's voice in the heydays of Evanescence. It's a much nicer, brighter song than most of their mainstream stuff. Oh, and stay tuned towards the end of the song for the awkward "yeah, yeahs" that make you wonder whether they're supposed to be there or not. It might make you want to start flying. Or at the very least, it'll make you want to dig out all those old Evanescence tracks you used to listen to. (Come on. I know I'm not the only one!)
6. "Bullets" by Tunng. I'm not going to lie, the intro of this song kind of makes me want to vomit. But the rest of the song--the lyrics, simple melody, and odd instrumentals are awesome. This is my kind of poetry. It doesn't make sense. But it does. You know? Me neither.
7. "Sleeping Sickness" by City and Colour. Vocalist Dallas Green has a stupid gorgeous voice, and he really works magic on this song. The melody is unique, and after the first few times you hear it you won't be able to stop yourself from headbanging and singing along on the chorus. The guitar chords to this song are simple and repetitive, but you don't even notice because Green's voice is so rockin'. 
8. "The Banjolin Song" by Mumford & Sons. Have you ever even heard of a banjolin? Because I hadn't. And apparently the computer hasn't either, because it keeps underlining the word in red. This one might take some searching, but it's worth seeking out. It's got all the things a good Mumford & Sons song has--meaningful lyrics we rarely hear anymore, Marcus Mumford wailing in that gritty awesome voice of his, and awesome instrumentals courtesy of, yes, the banjolin. Which, in case you were wondering, is "a type of 4-string banjo pitched in the same register as the mandolin." (Thank you Wikipedia for that definition. If it is incorrect, please remember that this is Wikipedia we're talking about. And go check out this song.)
9. "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)" by Sleeping at Last. The first thing I notice about any TV show is if their background music is any good. That's how I knew I'd come to love my favorite show, Grey's Anatomy. The music on this show is great. One of their more recent episodes featured a new, acoustic cover of the Proclaimer's well-known hit "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)" by Sleeping at Last. It's a completely different feel than the original--it's slower and without that marching tempo of the original. Now, I love the original. But this is gorgeous. I'm just saying.
10.  "O Holy Night" by Apocalyptica. Yes, you read that right. I know this is a Christmas song and it's the middle of June, but you need to know this exists. In case you're not familiar with Apocalyptica, they're a Finnish metal band composed of three cellists. Most of their stuff is gorgeous but pretty heavy and dark-sounding; so when I found out they'd come out with a version of one of my favorite Christmas songs ever (a sacred one, no less), I just about had a stroke. And I love what they did with the song. I'm anxious to hear what you think.

There you have it, folks! Got a favorite, or another suggestion? Tell me about it in the comments. I'm really curious! Till next time, Kevin the chicken says moo.

Don't ask.

"How Can I Keep From Singing?"

Greetings, my faithful blog-readers! So, I had this big plan to get home from college and immediately write a blog post about how great it is being home. However, two days after returning home, I had to leave for choir tour for a week. So I'm like, hey, I'll write about how great it is being home when I get back home! But, no. You know how sometimes a trip is so awesome you just have to tell people about it? Well, that was choir tour. Now, I love being home and am excited to write about that as well--but I can't just not write about how amazing the last week of my life was. Goodness!

For those of you who aren't really sure what choir tour is, it entails a week-long journey of forty-six-ish choir members (the number varies but I believe that's how many we had this year) traveling around, doing nightly concerts, staying with host families every night, and eating until we pretty much have to be rolled onto the bus for our next destination. Yes, it does indeed mean spending upwards of five hours on a bus sometimes to reach said destination; but on a bus filled with your choir family, you're never bored. I know it sounds far-fetched to refer to almost fifty people as being a "family," but that's absolutely what we are. And I mean, we do have fun. We went bowling one day--at 9:30 a.m.; you know you're jealous--and spontaneous dance parties broke out frequently. And with new host families every night, you just never knew what you were going to get--and sometimes you got some really amazing people.

So we set out for our 2013 tour on Monday, May 6. The tour would lead us through Illinois, Wisconsin, Iowa, and Minnesota. Our first stop was at a very small church in Cissna Park, Illinois. The audience was small--certainly no bigger than the choir we'd brought with us--but they were one of the most gracious audiences we've ever seen. In fact, after we sang our last notes, the pastor said he was sure that was what heaven sounded like. I think that brought tears to everyone's eyes, and it was the perfect start to our journey.

The next night we were at a much larger church in Illinois, and then it was on to Wisconsin on Wednesday. Our concert in Beloit was probably the hottest concert I've ever experienced--I mean this literally; they didn't turn the AC on in the sanctuary in time and we were practically roasting on the stage. I don't think there was a single member of our choir who wasn't sweating, and we even had a few people getting dizzy and such. BUT...this was another one of those amazing audiences. They soaked up every gospel-laced word we sang like a giant sponge. There was a group from the Spanish-speaking church present that night, so our very own Amanda Angulo got her chance to interpret when Bob, our director, spoke. She was nervous, but she didn't need to be. She interpreted well, and we had people praising and clapping right alongside us. It was amazing.

Then, as usual, we went to our host homes. Now, I didn't have any bad host homes all week, but some of them stood out as more fan-flippin'-tastic than others. My host home in Beloit is tied for first place as host homes go. My choir tour roomie Janelle and I stayed with Meghan Duran's awesome aunt, who was one of the nicest people I've ever met and was a hugger. The house was not only gorgeous, but it seemed like the second you realized you needed something, you could turn around and it was right there. Oh. And they had this ginormous white dog named Woodley. He wasn't so much a dog as he was a polar bear masquerading as a dog. But glory hallelujah, this was the friendliest dog you ever met. Not that that stopped Jeff from trying to wrestle with him...

Woodley won that one, in case you were interested. I should also point out that they were just playing and, even though it looks like Woodley's about to rip Jefe to shreds, they're both fine and dandy.

Seriously though. Beloit rocked. But I was super excited to get on the road the next day, because we were headed up to Waukesha for a concert at River Glen Christian Church. It had to be a total God thing (I suppose everything is, but this especially was), but this happened to be about twenty minutes from where my aunts Susie and Liz live. They'd never been able to hear our choir before, being that they live in Wisconsin, so they finally had the chance to come see us--and, guilty niece moment, I finally had a chance to come up to their neck of the woods and see them. The moment we walked in for our concert, I saw them near the front, looking around for me. I gave a tiny wave and a big smile when they spotted me before going onstage. It just so happened that, from the stage, they were seated directly behind where Bob Ham was standing--so though I was being a good choir student and keeping my eyes on the conductor, I could still see Liz snapping pictures and Susie clapping. Afterward, they raved about our concert and I couldn't have been happier. You always hope your loved ones will like what you do, but responses like these are overwhelming. Plus we got this snazzy photo, which I will always love.

And can I just point out that Wisconsin has some of the coolest city names? Waukesha. Milwaukee. Wauwatosa. I always thought Wakarusa was cool, but some of these take the cake.

The next day, Friday, it was on to Mt. Pleasant Iowa, where the puns about how Pleasant everything was rolled off seemingly everyone's tongue. The church we sang at had gorgeous acoustics and--WAIT FOR IT!--a real, working pipe organ! I know a lot of churches have those so it doesn't sound like such a big deal, but for us, it was. We had an arrangement of "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross" that called for pipe organ, but so few churches we'd sung at had pipe organs that we usually just used piano. Because the church in Mt. Pleasant had one, we were blessed to be able to use the pipe organ for this song. The words of this hymn are powerful as it is, but when backed by the powerful sound of the pipe organ, it could just melt you. My cheeks hurt from smiling so much by the end of the song. And our last piece, the one the first pastor had described as "what heaven must sound like," sounded even more angelic with those gorgeous acoustics.

I'm a sucker for great acoustics.

Saturday was the only day of the week we didn't have a concert, and I think we all needed a break by that point. Moreover, I think by then we were all incredibly tired and ready to go home--which is why a day of rest (well, rest and another five-hour bus ride) was so well-received. Plus, I mean, it always matters where the bus is going, right? And this time, the bus was headed to the Mall of America. Which, I'm just saying, is a really big mall. That's all I can really say. We literally didn't stop moving through that mall for the two hours we had there, and we barely scratched the surface of what we wanted to see. But it was on to the church we'd be singing at the next morning to get set up, meet our host families for the night, and eat dinner with them before going to their homes.

Alrighty. So, I bragged on my host family in Beloit earlier. I can't possibly go on without bragging on this one, which is the one tied for first place with our home in Beloit. First of all, it was a great group we had going to their house--there were six of us, two girls and four guys, and we were all more or less good friends. It was just lovely enjoying dinner with our host parents, Doug and Sharon, who were so loving and interested in our lives. As they asked us about ourselves and our majors, some of us realized we didn't even know what each other's majors were and whatnot. Oh. I should also mention that Doug kind of looked like Chuck Norris. You'll see that later.

En route to Doug's and Sharon's house, we got to experience the beautiful hilly countryside of Minnesota. I don't think I've ever seen a place that was just beautiful no matter where you looked. I suppose it helped that for once, we were going to our host homes while it was still light out, so we could still see everything. But when we arrived at our home...I don't think any of us were prepared for how amazing everything would be. The house was gorgeous, and they had a cool deaf dog named Kumari who we kept trying to talk to before remembering that she couldn't hear us. But the best thing, I think, was the view from the kitchen window.

That view. Chills.

We proceeded to go to the neighbor's house, where four other friends were staying for the night, for a bonfire. Here, we got to watch the moon and stars emerge from their dock.

About this time, I started thinking, "Is this heaven?" And then we started singing songs around the campfire. It was all the greatest things coming together.

When we finished, our host mothers insisted we were spoiling them. I'm just like, you are giving us this amazing place to stay and feeding us till we can't see straight and we're spoiling you? Well, we were happy to do what we could. Then, as if to punctuate the point, they brought us pizza.

The next morning, we sang at their church. It was certainly a tearful day as it was the last two concerts for the graduating seniors; but it was a day of beautiful music, too. Our music was so well-received. Between services, we gave hugs to our host parents and took a picture with them. I think that was the first time it'd ever been hard to say goodbye to host parents. But they were just that cool.

At the second service, I had the opportunity to share some of my testimony. I was beyond nervous, because for all the talking I do I'm surprisingly bad at public speaking. Plus I only had two minutes, so that was one more thing to think about. But I had the chance to tell everyone how God had changed--and saved--my life, and even though I was so nervous, I'm so glad I had that chance. I later heard how a few members of the congregation were influenced by what I'd had to say, and I was so happy to hear it. We always say in our choir that you never know who is listening, and it could make all the difference in the world for those people.

And, well, the next day was all travel, lounging at our hotel on Lake Geneva, Wisconsin for the night, and having our end-of-tour party before coming home. It was a beautiful week with people I love and very much consider my family-away-from-family. We were, I think, all sooooo ready to come home. But now that I am home, I miss these people. I'm just so thankful for the memories I have of this week.

We took this just before leaving Lake Geneva. Of course the weather would be perfect as we concluded our week.

And now...
Ten Things That Totally Rocked About Choir Tour!

1. Eating, eating, eating. Good morning! Time for breakfast in the host homes. Is that egg casserole? Is that home-made streusel?! Ohhh sure, I'll have some... Coffee! You have a Keurig? Praise Him! It's lunchtime! Oh, fast food? Sure, I'd like fries with that. Oh, we're at the church! Oh, rehearsal is done and now it's time for dinner! You made fried chicken and cheesy potatoes? Well, I guess I could be troubled to eat all of those... There's a dessert table? With like, ten desserts? How do I choose? Well, the only right thing to do is to try them all... Time to go to our host homes! Are we hungry? Well, we could always eat. Oh, you're ordering a pizza. Then two more pizzas. Then pushing the half-gallon of ice cream at me (only me!) again. Okay, I can be persuaded...
        Seriously. This is what a normal day looked like. Our host families never seemed to think we could be full--which, hey, I don't so much mind. And I had no idea so many people in this country had Keurigs.
2. Prayer partner shenanigans. Before going on tour, we draw names for prayer partners and do a sort of Secret Santa throughout tour week. It involves, of course, praying for the person you drew; but also giving them little gifts throughout the week and then a bigger one at the party at the end. Many of us kept it simple and just gave our gifts anonymously, attached cute little notes to let our partners know we were praying for them, and that was it. But you always have a few people who plan elaborate scavenger hunts or make their prayer partners do crazy little tasks for their gifts. Then you have those people who spend the week trying to figure out who has them based on the handwriting in the notes (turns out my prayer partner was sitting in front of me on the bus the entire time I was talking about who could have had me, and I even bragged to him about the little chicken key chain he'd gotten me), and the people who have different people write the notes to their prayer partners to make this impossible. But it's a great time with great memories. I am now the proud owner of a chicken key chain named Gerry (short for Gerund; ask me later), a roll of mustache duct tape, and a cow pillow pet named Jeffa (pronounced Heffa); but--brace yourself for sappiness--I think my favorite part is getting to use the lovely notes, written by none other than my prayer partner Jeff Santos, as bookmarks so I can read them over again and reminisce. 
3. Seeing how life carries on in other parts of the country. For some reason, I get this feeling sometimes that Wakarusa is the only small town in the United States. I have no idea what ever gives me this feeling, because those small towns are everywhere and people are carrying on their lives in much the same way we do here. Our very first stop on the tour was Cissna Park, Illinois, which consists of about eight hundred people and is actually significantly smaller than Wakarusa. Mt. Pleasant actually reminded me a lot of some of the towns back home. It was just so interesting to watch real life carry on everywhere else.
4. Brad Marks' post-euchre custom of marching up and down the aisle of the bus high-fiving everyone and shouting, "WARHEADS!" We had to keep ourselves occupied somehow during those long bus rides. One way we did this was the euchre tournament that many entered and many observed. As the week went on, some of the euchre duos came up with some pretty interesting customs and/or costumes. My favorite was that of Brad Marks and Marilynn Ham, who wore Warheads hats for each match. I can honestly say I never thought I'd see Marilynn wearing a Warheads hat while playing competitive euchre. But every time they won, Brad felt the need to march down the aisle of the bus and chant "WARHEADS! WARHEADS!" while high-fiving everyone. It cracked me up every time. Also, they won.
5. Host families. It was always so exciting to see where we'd end up for the night. Older couple or younger family? Kids or no kids? Dogs or cats? Bed or air mattress? During the course of the week, Janelle and I experienced three bonfires, two nights in a row staying in a house with a dog named Lucy, just two nights of sleeping in separate beds, and just one air mattress. That air mattress, by the way, deflated in the middle of the night and we ended up hovering over the floor on a flat pancake of a mattress for the rest of the night. Hey, it makes for a great story, at least. And all our host homes were just bomb. It was so fun to sit around getting to know them for an hour or more each night.
6. Singing the Queechin' song. Oh, Lord. There is truly no better way to start a day than by singing the Queechin' song. Every year, a Queech King and/or Queen is designated to "queech" the latecomers--basically, you get charged/"queeched" a quarter for the first minute you are late and five cents for each subsequent minute, and they get to auction off stuff left by students in the dressing rooms. This year's Queechin' song was to the tune of the gospel "This Little Light of Mine." It went something like "It is Queechin' time, yo' money is mine!" followed by "Every time you're late, we gonna raise your rate!" for the second verse and "[If] you don't pay your dues, we gonna come for you!" for the third. Even the non-morning people and those who'd just been queeched were happy to sing the song each morning. And Zach and Cece, our Queech King and Queen, had way too much fun making us do it.
7. Staying with a Chuck Norris look-alike and a lot of other amazing people on the lake Saturday night. I know, I talked about this already. But it deserves its own bullet point, because these people were such a blessing. Not only did they open their beautiful home to us and let us use their hot tub late at night, they opened their hearts to us as well. Doug and Sharon wanted a photo with us at the concert the next day--almost like a family picture--and are even talking about flying out to Mishawaka for our Christmas concert this winter. That's so special. I miss them even after staying one weekend with them.
   
   DOESN'T HE LOOK LIKE CHUCK NORRIS?!?!
8. Getting to know people you previously didn't know very well. When you spend a week on a bus with about fifty people, you get to know them pretty well. It's nice, because then you get closer to those people you always knew of but didn't really know. I even learned things about the people I already knew, like my roommate for the week. It's one of those things you kind of expect will happen, but still ends up surprising you.
9. Picking up new vocabulary. This one's for you, Cece. I sat in front of Zach, Cece, and Kristen Wagnerowski on the bus all week. It became clear pretty quickly that I was going to pick up some words and phrases I'd never used before. I swear, someone was getting called "heffa!" at least once a day, and people--okay, usually Juan--were constantly being jokingly encouraged to "Get your life!" Also, "ratch," "ratchet," or "ratchetty." I'm still not totally sure what this one means. Basically, messy. But messy? Okay, define that! But goodness, it seemed like everyone was ratch. It was all in good, clean fun and it was always entertaining.
10. Star Wars Mafia. We literally played this for the entire duration of our trip home from Lake Geneva on Monday, plus much of our trip to Lake Geneva on Sunday evening. It's like mafia, except everyone has a different Star Wars character. The mafia are the Sith, the doctor is Qui-Gon, the detective is Obi-Wan, and the narrator is the Force. Also, everyone has a special power or characteristic. It's so much cooler than regular mafia. I think my favorite part remains the fact that Admiral Akbar can only communicate by saying "It's a trap!" I don't know how I'm going to get through summer without playing this game.

One of the pieces we sang all year was entitled "How Can I Keep From Singing?" Though I loved all our music this year this year, I think this is the piece that sticks with me most. Basically, it reminds us that through everything we face, we can't keep from singing for all the blessings of our lives. On any given day, with or without my choir family, whether the going is tough or easy, how can I keep from singing? 

And, if we ever have any doubt that what we're doing is worthwhile, we can look at how Hosanna Lutheran Church changed their sign after we left:

Just a reminder that everything you do--no matter how big or how small, or how insignificant it may seem--can make a huge difference to those who experience it.

Quite Possibly a Very Boring Post

You totally decided to read this because you want to see if it's actually boring, didn't you? HAHAAAA NAILED IT!

Seriously though.

So guys. April is National Poetry Month. WAIT DON'T GO! I feel it is my duty as an English major to mention this to you, even though...well...don't judge me, okay? I kind of hate poetry.

Okay, "hate" is a strong word. And if you include all forms of poetry under that umbrella of "hate," then it's totally not true. We'll just say poetry isn't really my thing in the stereotypical sense of the word. For instance, I am absolutely not the kind of person to sit down and read a bunch of poems. They all start to run together, and then even the good ones get hidden. And those old ones that are all about nature...to me, it's like, "Okay, dude. One nature poem was good; now you just sound high." Wordsworth?! *sigh* I really like the poem about the daffodils. But I just finished a British literature course and I swear we spent half the semester reading (A) Wordsworth, or (B) another poet writing about Wordsworth. I am not making this up. We did eventually cover some good stuff; but we could have spent a few of those weeks talking about Oscar Wilde or Agatha Christie, Charles Dickens or George Orwell or...well, anyone but Wordsworth, really.

And it is noteworthy that music is poetry. And good lyrics are hard to beat. Okay, some are better than others; and I've about had it up to here (gestures to eye-level) with pop music these days, filled with whiners groaning baby, baby, baby or WEEEE...are NEver EVer EVer...geting BAAAACK toGETHERRRR... Oh, and can I get a shout-out for Pit Bull, who taught us that "Kodak" rhymes with "Kodak"? Seriously. Even in music, there is good poetry and bad poetry; it's just that music has the saving grace of a melody (unless the melody also sucks).

BUT...poetry does have its place. Most of it, I will admit, is in music. But I will not say that poetry is pointless; some people lap it up like water. I am blatantly not one of those people; but every so often I hear a verse and think yes! Get it! And this leads me to today's list...

10 Poems Actually Worth Reading (according to someone who generally dislikes poetry)

1. "Agua Noche" (English version "Water Night") by Octavio Paz. This one is even about nature! Although I cheated a little on this one; the first time I ever heard the words of this poem was in a musical composition by Eric Whitacre. He used the English translation of this poem for his choral piece "Water Night." The words are truly beautiful; and it's a short poem, swallowable in one gulp. I would also suggest you all go listen to the Eric Whitacre composition. BUT...read the poem first.
2. "Masks" by Shel Silverstein. Who didn't love Shel Silverstein poems as a child??? I had (still have) two of his books and I loved them. He writes the silliest rhymes; but they're things not just anyone would think of. Then every so often, he throws in a poem like "Masks" that actually has a serious moral to it. I love this poem, and it's so short that I actually have it memorized. And, just because Shel Silverstein poems are made much better by the original Shel Silverstein illustrations, here you go: 
   
3. "The Voice," also by Shel Silverstein. This one is especially good for those of us who have no idea what we're going to do with our lives. It might be a little bit cheesy, but it's also a little bit awesome.
4. "El Dorado" by Edgar Allan Poe. It's spooky, like many of his works, but not overly so. (That TOTALLY rhymes!!!) This one's also pretty short; so if you were picturing something as menacing as "The Raven," you can breathe more easily. A suggestion--and this might sound a teensy bit lame, but I'm throwing it out anyway--I really like to read Poe's poetry aloud. The dude had a way with words--meaning even if you can't actually understand what he's trying to say (because that happens sometimes...or maybe a lot), the vocabulary sounds absolutely beautiful when spoken. If you're really bored, give it a try.
5. "A Person/A Paper/A Promise" by Dr. Earl Reum. This poem was emphasized in the book The Perks of Being a Wallflower. It's a little morbid, and does not have a happy ending. But sometimes...well, sometimes the most beautiful endings (in literature, at least) are not the happiest ones. I appreciate the structure of this poem and, well, if you read it I'd love to hear your thoughts on it.
6. "In Flanders Fields" by Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae. Okay, I cheated again. This has also been set to music--a few times, I think--and my choir sang this song in high school. You know, sometimes you need to hear something set to notice the beauty of the words. The author, a Canadian military physician, wrote this after the death of a friend and fellow soldier in World War I. It makes you think. I'm just saying. 
7. "Ode" by Arthur O'Shaughnessy. I know the title is not especially exciting; but this is where I emphasize that if you are only to read one poem from this entire list...okay, I'd probably suggest "Masks" because it's really short and it's right there. But after that, I'd tell you to read this one. It's one of the most beautiful things I've ever read, and it's also where we get the term "movers and shakers" (in case you were really curious where that phrase came from). I can't begin to do this poem justice in one tiny section of one tiny blog post, so you're just going to have to look it up. At the very least, read the first stanza. It's my favorite.
8. "We Real Cool" by Gwendolyn Brooks. This one is also short enough that, well, at one point in time I had it memorized. I don't think I have the order quite right anymore. But it's awesome; one of my all-time faves. It's sassy. It's terse. It makes you want to skip school and play pool. And, if you're not into poetry either, it'll take you about thirty seconds to read if you're a slow reader.
9. "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening" by Robert Frost. Okay, one last cheat; but this one isn't really a cheat. Eric Whitacre, the composer mentioned in poem #1, based another of his compositions on this poem. He revised the poem to flow better in choral music and named it "Sleep." I love this poem, though. It's eerie, but not the bad kind of eerie. Like the title implies: It's that sense of wonder you find when you're walking through the secluded darkness in the wintertime, the snow crunch-crunching beneath your feet. And you're getting sleepy, but you can't sleep yet. I love it. Also, I think it's one of my mom's favorites.
10. "Harlem" by Langston Hughes. It's short. It's inspirational. It has some imagery you will never get out of your head. It's everything a poem ought to be. 

Phew! I'm not going to make you go down the list and read all these poems. But if you do read some of them or have anything to say about them, you should totally comment and tell me about it. Also, if you have other poems in mind that you think are worthwhile...do share.

And next time, I'll cut to the chase and do a music blog.

A Photo Blog--or Flog, if you will--Because Today I'm Lazy

Well, folks...we're wrapping up another Monday.

But hey! It hasn't been a bad Monday. Okay, it hasn't been a bad Monday for me at least. And I know we've still got about an hour and there's still time for it to go downhill...

Alright, well, at least I gave positivism a try. Maybe it's not for me.

Still, I can't help but be a little jollier than usual today. The sun is shining, the tank is clean...*gasp!*

THE TANK IS CLEAN.

Sorry. I don't know if you knew this about me, but I can throw an unnecessary movie/TV/meme quote into almost any conversation. It can occasionally be problematic. Like, if someone is about to tell me some great news and they say, "GUESS WHAT?!" and then I go, "You just saved a whole bunch of money on your car insurance by switching to Geico?!" Surprisingly, that's not what people are usually excited about. Kind of like what people really need usually isn't "MORE COWBELL!" And that's just unfortunate.

Also, I'm easily distracted and--

You get the idea. One of the girls I used to coach in softball called it A.D.O.S.--attention deficit OOH SHINY! Is that politically correct to say? I don't know, but it's awesome.

Anyway. I suppose something that sticks out about this Monday is that I won a writing award from the English department. It's kind of funny, because the "award" isn't actually that cool--it's a regular certificate, and it was placed in this plastic frame that seriously looks like it'll snap in half if I breathe on it wrong, and the clear plastic of the frame is so glare-ifying that when I got back to my seat I placed it facedown immediately and didn't even look at it till a few hours later. I have a theory that the certificates were framed for the audience's sake and not that of the recipients; because they do indeed look way more legit from a distance, but the close-up doesn't lie. The real award, for me anyway, is the fact that one of my stories gets published in Bethel's literary magazine. And I know that all of twenty people read the magazine, and that they are composed of eighteen English students, Dr. Staples, and my grandma; but there's just something cool about seeing a story you wrote in print, no matter the size of the publication. It's a really cool feeling, even if many of my loved ones don't read and the ones who do are required by friendship or blood to tell me they liked my story. If nothing else, I can always go back and look at this little magazine and know that my story was good enough for somebody.

Plus, it was an English department award. So maybe now people will stop asking me what inspired me to be a theatre major, and I can stop having to tell them I'm not a theatre major; I'm just way too dramatic by nature. You think I am making this up. I am not. This really happens.

Anyway. Monday has gone well. A little too well, if you ask me. But hey. I'm hopeful that there will be more good Mondays, and to God be the glory.

And here are Ten Things You Could Do To Make Mondays Better:
[Disclaimer: This list does not include things like praying and reading your Bible because really, those are things you can do to make any day better. So please, don't call me a heathen and slap me with a pancake. It's like when someone asks you what the best thing ever is and you say Nutella instead of Jesus. It's not that Jesus isn't the best. It's just that--here, anyway--that fact is already a given. Sooo...yeah.]

1. Set a good morning song as your alarm! Let's be honest, if you're one of those people who can't stand happy things, this will last about a week before you murder your alarm clock. But occasionally, it makes waking up a little less difficult. If indeed you enjoy being Grumpy Cat when you wake up, maybe you could set the Imperial March as your alarm. That could set a definite tone for the day.
2. Scream as loud as you possibly can before getting out of bed. And promise yourself that nothing else about the day will make you scream that loudly. This way, the only direction from there is up! (This advice courtesy of Kolee New.)
3. Hug somebody! It could be me. It could be your roommate. If you're Michelle Miller, it could be both of those things simultaneously. Or it could be a pet or something that can't actually hug you back but is still worth hugging. There are plenty of great options. 
    
4. Trust-fall somebody. Bonus points if it's someone you don't know and/or have never seen before. Just walk up, yell "TRUST FALL!" and fall on them. Extra bonus points if the person actually catches you. Super mega bonus points if it ends up being your future spouse!
5. Smile at someone you usually try to avoid. Even if it ends up looking something like...
   Hey. At least you tried.
6. Listen to a song you haven't heard in a while. Remember "Drops of Jupiter"? It remembers you.
7. Stare at a stranger. Then, when said stranger is sufficiently creeped out and asks what the heck you're doing, reply, "You can see me?" Comment with your results.
8. Start smiling when something makes you angry. If nothing else, it will confuse people to no end.
9. Eat some cereal before bed. It's a good midnight snack. Also, if it's after midnight, it legitimately counts as breakfast.
   Sorry. I like Family Guy more than I ought to.
10. Finish your homework. Provided Bethel's Internet is actually working well, that is.
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    With that in mind, get excited for Tuesday! And hopefully this "wisdom" can serve you well in your future Monday endeavors.