After the Final Bow: Reflections on Choir Tour 2014

On my first day back in the continental United States in just over a week, I sat on the couch and watched Super 8 with my mom and tried to readjust to the life I've known my whole life--flat land, the English language, colors and a view that, while familiar and welcome, were hardly as vibrant as that of the Puerto Rican landscape I examined every day from my picnic table in Bayamón.

It's funny what just a week somewhere else can do to you.

If you've been keeping up with me or my blog, you know that this year's choir tour took place in Puerto Rico. It's hard to believe it's already been three weeks since we went and two weeks since we got back. I had been ecstatic about this opportunity since last May, when we found out it would be happening. A week in Puerto Rico right after graduation? This was a seriously sweet deal! People paid big bucks for a trip like this, and my choir-mates and I were getting it for the price of $150 and some concerts.

Obviously, I had my hopes up. I think it would have been harder not to have my hopes up. I was thinking of beautiful beaches, relaxing in the sun, the luxury of being on a tropical island...

I'll just say this. It was not what I was expecting at all. It was completely different. It was not bells-and-whistles; it was nitty-gritty.

And thank God, because it was so much better that way.

People keep asking me how Puerto Rico was, and I kind of don't feel like I can ever adequately describe it. I'd need to sit down with you for a few hours and go over it all, day by day, with a fine-tooth comb to even give you an idea of how amazing this trip was. But I have this space, so I'll give you what I can give you. Get ready to read.

It was a four-hour flight, nonstop. I'd never flown before, so for me the flight alone was a thrill. When we got there, we went immediately to the mall to do some prayer partner shopping.

Take this how you want to take it, but my first impression of Puerto Rico was that it was basically like summer in Goshen, but with palm trees. Once we got off the plane, all our daylight hours were spent in San Juan at this mall that was pretty much like any American mall--it had all the same stores we have in the U.S., from Claire's to Hot Topic. Everything was in two languages; the only difference from Goshen was that typically Spanish was listed first in Puerto Rico. Everyone we encountered was bilingual and either assumed you knew Spanish and immediately started speaking Spanish to you, or assumed you only knew English and immediately started speaking English to you.

And I swear every time I got the nerve to start speaking Spanish to someone, they'd speak to me first in English. I probably should've just insisted on keeping up the Spanish, but I was too sheepish to do it just then.

By the time we got to the retreat center where we spent our week, it was raining and also completely dark. There was a little, but not much, in the way of exterior lighting, so when I say it was dark, I mean it was dark. We could feel the hills and curves as we drove on the serpentine roads in the bus, but we ultimately had no idea where we were going (which would be a great devotional topic, by the way, if any of you feel like taking that up). We had no idea what kind of terrain surrounded us because it was aggressively dark everywhere except the space we had at the retreat center, which had pretty basic outdoor lighting.But, whatever. It had been a long day, and we were all too slagged to go on a night-hike or anything. We checked out our accommodations--no air conditioning, which we'd been expecting but it was nice and hot; spiral staircases that, while beautiful, caused me to fear for my life basically every time I stepped on them; the occasional lizard in one's bedroom--you know, the norm. Some of us went for a swim, because the retreat center mercifully did have two swimming pools (though a bat was checking us out pretty dutifully while we were in there). Then we went to sleep on beds that creaked every time we moved--or at least, mine did--and let it catch up with us that in the last eighteen hours we had hopped two buses and a plane, flown across five states and an ocean, and shopped at Puerto Rican Wal-Mart.

The next morning I awoke to the vibrant sun and voices speaking Spanish outside my window. I couldn't help but smile, get ready for the day, and go outside to do my Bible reading.

Remember how I said it was too dark to see what was around us when we arrived the night before? Well, here's what was out there.

Right??? There aren't even sufficient words to describe it.

We had no concerts on our first full day in Puerto Rico, which was kind of nice except that we (okay, I) occasionally forgot that the entire reason we'd come to PR was to sing. That Tuesday, we sight-saw. I saw the ocean for the first time, and it was amazing. We swam in it, found starfish, explored. Then we headed to Viejo San Juan for lunch and buying way too many tourist trinkets. The rest of the day was spent hanging out at the retreat center--swimming, eating, playing games, eating some more, and staying up way too late considering we had to be on the go by 6 A.M. the next morning. 

I think the real fun began with the concerts, though. Our very first concert of choir tour was nothing if not memorable. It took place at a school, and the school did not have a piano or functioning keyboard for us to use. This meant--SURPRISE!--we had to do our concert a cappella. Since not all of our songs are a cappella, we had to cut a few of them from the performance and make a few a cappella that weren't previously. But the kids and teachers didn't know the difference, and they wouldn't have cared regardless. From the moment we began singing--and we quickly realized this was a trend in Puerto Rico, as choirs are a pretty new concept there--phones were out, capturing as much of our performance as possible. Enthusiastic applause was given after each piece. I swear, we've never been so popular.

After our concert at the school, we had the opportunity to hang out with the students before eating lunch. There were some basketball games going on with some of our guys and some of the older kids--like, high-school-age guys--while the rest of us mingled with other groups of students, usually in bits and pieces of two languages. Then a few younger boys--probably all under the age of ten--were looking for some people to play basketball with. They got the bright idea that maybe I, one of least athletic people ever, should play with them, along with a few other choir students.

I mean. I wasn't going to say no to kids.

You know those moments in life that humble you before you can say look at me? Yeah. This was one of those. 

Let me just tell you, I didn't stand a chance against those kids. I was immediately reminded of why I was cut from the team in middle school (twice), and I had even less remorse about the loss of this sport in my life than I did when it happened (twice). By the end of the game, I was a sweaty mess and I was the perfect opposite of victorious--and yet, I couldn't stop smiling. It had been seriously fun. I'm by no means aching to play basketball again, but I'll always remember that one time in Puerto Rico when those kids took me to school on the court. Literally.

There were these moments throughout the week that just got to you. For me, one of these moments was at our concert in Cabo Rojo. Weeks earlier, at one of the let's-get-together-and-prepare-for-Puerto-Rico meetings, I'd signed up to share a testimony during the concert. As that date inched closer, I was continually asking myself, Why did I commit to doing this? I am terrified of public speaking; I'm always afraid that I'll mix up my words and convey the wrong message to all these people I'll never see again, and that's how they'll remember me. There was this voice in the back of my head saying, Just back out. Someone else will step up and do a testimony that night. It doesn't have to be you. But, either out of stubbornness or or conscience or whatever, I decided I couldn't do that. I sat outside at one of the picnic tables at the retreat center, the whole Puerto Rican landscape before me, and wrote out what I wanted to say. When I'd finished writing, I went over and over it. I didn't want to recite it like a robot, but I wanted to drill into my head the story I was telling and the order of things, because it was my story. 

When the time came to tell my story, I mean, I was nervous. I kept to myself before the concert. I paced a lot, prayed a lot, and went over and over and over my testimony. When the time officially came, I walked up to the microphone and I told my story, interpreted into Spanish by Jeff Santos.

It was awesome.

For one thing, I have to say, being interpreted feels a little like being Rocky after he fought Drago. Those who knew English pretty well reacted to what I said after I said it while those who didn't know it so well reacted as Jeff was translating, but they always reacted. I didn't think my story was that interesting, but they showed me otherwise. I saw my story impacting people that night in the two-ish minutes I spoke, and it was so cool. Two minutes that night equaled laughter, tears, cheers, applause, and many, many hugs and kisses from appreciative audience members (whom I'd never met and will likely not see again) after the concert. 

One woman sought me out before the concert was even over. We were circled around the congregation to sing our last piece, "Give Me Jesus." We'd just sung it and the pastor was speaking to the congregation in Spanish. I don't remember if she was being interpreted or not, because a woman pushed past everyone--congregation, choir members, etc.--to get to me. (This does not happen often. I'm just saying.) She clung to me and said words I'll never forget. 

I'd spoken that night, among other things, about graduation and the anxiety I had about going out into the world to live life. She said to me, "This is the hardest part, because now you have to be strong. But my name is Gloria, and I will be praying for you. Remember me." I always will.

You think you don't have a story to tell? You do.

Then a bunch of people from the church wanted to take a picture with us, which also doesn't happen very often at our concerts. For one night and one photograph, we were one body. It turned out great.

The week I spent in PR made very evident the fact that God answers prayer. Maybe that sounds kind of cliched and Christian-girl-y, but it was very clear. The night I shared my testimony, I prayed for a lot of things; but among those things was the prayer that even if I was nervous (because I knew I would be), I wouldn't look nervous. My hands and voice tend to shake when I'm about to talk to a lot of people, and it only serves to further my nervousness. I didn't experience this that night. In addition to making me feel like Rocky, being interpreted also gave me a chance to take a breath and think about what I wanted to say next. I was told later that my speech sounded well-crafted and that I didn't look nervous at all.

(THEY TOTALLY BOUGHT IT!!!)

The next night, we kept experiencing power outages once we arrived at the church we were to sing at in Humacao. The first came during rehearsal, as we were running through our concert pieces. Power outages are always bad when it comes to a performance, but these were all the worse because we had to rely on an electronic keyboard instead of a piano for our performance--meaning, once again, we'd have to go a cappella again if the lights didn't come back on. Worse yet, the power outage wasn't the result of a blown fuse or something at the church; it was affecting the surrounding area, meaning we couldn't expect much of a turnout if the lights stayed off.

All we could do was pray, and we did. We prayed as we finished our rehearsal in the dark. We prayed as we started to feel the affects of the air conditioning wearing off. We prayed as we got dressed and ready for our concert in the dark, and as we began to congregate for pre-concert devotions.

And just like that, as the last woman applied eyeliner by the light of a cell phone, the lights came back on.

We were beyond relieved. The show went on with accompaniment, thanks to the electronic keyboard. But we weren't out of the woods yet: In the middle of the concert, as the men of the choir were singing their piece, the lights went out. Again.

The women were waiting outside when it happened. After a split second of oh, crap, someone called out, "EVERYONE START PRAYING," and we did. And as God, the Bethel College Concert Choir, and the good people of Humacao are my witnesses, we prayed the lights back on. Again. We finished our concert without any more uh-ohs or ay-ay-ays.

Maybe it sounds like a nice coincidence. But if you were there, it was so obvious that it wasn't. It was so obvious that Satan was trying to keep us from singing that night, and that he didn't succeed. And, in case the devil is reading this, I'll have him know that we were going to sing that night no matter what, lights or no lights. So suck on that. (End Satan rant.)

The power of prayer was especially clear once more at our Friday night concert. Before the concert, Bob asked us to spend a few minutes silently praying over that evening's performance. I don't know what everyone else prayed about, but I prayed--among other things--that the concert would make an impact on us and on them. I prayed that it would be a concert congregation and choir alike would remember forever. 

After a beautiful and powerful concert experience with a very enthusiastic audience, we were chilling in the back of the church nomming on the doughnuts they'd bought for us and downing cold Coke after cold Coke when the pastor got our attention. He spoke through an interpreter and told us the news: A young person had accepted Christ after our concert.

I still can't get over that.

To think that our music, our stories, our ministry impacted this young man enough to make this life-changing decision still blows me away. While I'm confident our choir impacts people to some extent every time we sing, we don't usually see the immediate effects of what we do. This was living, breathing proof that we had the ability to change lives just by doing what we love to do--sing and make joyful noises.

Puerto Rico is also the place where I sang my final concert with the Bethel College Concert Choir. To be honest, I went through finals, grad dinner, graduation, and most of choir tour without shedding a tear about the end of my college career. I guess I was saving them up for that last concert.

It was surreal to put on my dress for the last time, because it didn't hit me till after I'd done it that I'd never put it on again. It was weird to line up for our concert formations knowing I'd never have to get to do it again. It didn't hit me till after we sang each individual piece that I was done with that music, that arrangement, most likely for good. But it was the last piece and the final bow that really did it. Bob had the seniors line up in front of the congregation for "Give Me Jesus." As soon as we all linked hands, most of us were in tears. We took a final bow, then--just kidding!--took one more. Then it was over, and the choir gathered up front and exchanged hugs. Some laughed, some cried; most of us did both. Our percussionist, Clay, told me, "Don't let any of those old fuddyduddies tell you when to go to bed now that you're graduated." I liked that enough to put it in here.

What else can I say? We pulled ourselves together, had a party, and came back to the States the next day. I tried for weeks to write a blog post before coming up with this meager offering. I could write a book. In fact, I almost did--I filled half of a Moleskine journal just with the snapshots, the big moments in the little time I had to write, of PR while I was there. Even that wasn't enough to truly express what it was like. So how does one root through all that and still offer a good understanding of a life-changing week? That's why it took so long, and still I've left things out, of course; I had to pick and choose what to share, and this is what I have. If you'd ever like to hear the whole shebang, day by day, snapshot by snapshot, I'd be happy to sit down and talk to you about it. But still, it won't be everything. I don't think that can be done. 

So. What can I tell you that I haven't already told you? Here are ten more "snapshots." Thanks for hanging with me this long. Y'all rock.

10 Snapshots of Choir Tour 2014 in Puerto Rico

1. First flights. I'd never flown before this trip, and apparently this was a big deal. Who would have guessed that farm kids don't get out much? HA. It surprised me how many seasoned flyers were nervous, but I really wasn't--not the first time, and certainly not on the return flight. I realized that takeoff--or "the GO part,"as Victoria (who also had never flown before) called it--is basically my favorite feeling ever. Like, in that moment, you are moving so fast that you actually leave the ground. It's like a refund on the fact that no matter how high you swing on a swing set, you can never go all the way around. I ate it up. I was greatly amused by it, as you may notice from this Snapchat I sent.
   
2. Ocean. This, though, I literally ate up. I had also never seen the ocean before. Technically, the first time I saw the ocean was on the flight to PR. The first time I experienced it was several days later on beach day. My first impression, and the thing I still can't get over, was just the vastness of this body of water--which sounds kind of stupid because, duh, it's the ocean. But there was something about the fact that this water never ended that just kind of had me dumbfounded. Basically, it was just
   forever.
   
   Superficially, there was the whole saltwater thing. It was weird--I'd heard all my life about how the ocean was saltwater and all that jazz, yet somehow I managed to forget this once I was actually in it, and the first time I caught a splash of ocean water in my mouth, I thought I'd bitten something in my mouth and was tasting my own blood. Yeah. That was awkward. But the saltwater made my hair look pretty cool, which was a nice little bonus.
3. Morning person. LET THE RECORDS SHOW...that I've never been a morning person. In fact, I've always been, like, the exact opposite of a morning person. But you'd become a morning person, too, if this was the sunrise you got to wake up to every day.
   
   Going out there before most others were stirring, reading my Bible, and doing some writing while watching the sun party on the landscape was the absolute greatest way to start the day. I sacrificed sleep so I could wake up early enough to do this. It became one of my very favorite parts of the trip. I even started doing my Bible reading in Spanish. When in Bayamón...
4. Plantains. Basically, they're non-sweet bananas. We didn't eat them at every meal like we did with rice and beans, but they were definitely a staple of the food we ate. I hate bananas, but I love plantains. Go figure. I couldn't get enough of them. I mean, it probably helped that they were fried. Also, I discovered these snack chips that are similar to potato chips except they're made of plantains. Dude. They're my new favorite thing. Except, sadness, I've never seen them in the U.S. So I bought several bags at the airport before I left, but those will eventually run out. The hunt is officially on...
5. Color. So I don't know where Americans got the idea that houses need to be painted in practical colors, but we have GOT to ditch that philosophy. I'm telling you, that's probably 90% of the reason people are so unhappy in this country. The houses and buildings in Puerto Rico looked more like this:
   
   And this was totally normal. We drove past a guy painting his house once, and he was painting it this bright, banana yellow. Because why would you go with something neutral when everything around you is so bright? Even the trees were greener and the flowers brighter. It was crazy. I didn't know colors could be so colorful.
6. "Alleluia." Okay, story time (again). So, there's this piece we did this year by my favorite composer. It was Eric Whitacre's "Alleluia." I was ecstatic when I saw it in our choir folders on the first day of the year. I love Whitacre, and this piece is seriously gorgeous and I just couldn't wait to get into it. But throughout the year, as I went about my senior year and we got more and more intimately familiar with this arrangement, this song came to be so much more to me than just a song by Eric Whitacre. The thing about this piece is that it is about eight minutes long and the only word in it, save for some amens at the end, is alleluia. The music itself, however, conveys a range of human emotions--reverence, despair, rejoicing--in those eight-ish minutes, using only one word: alleluia. You can actually hear the different emotions in it as you listen; but through it all, the only word is alleluia. That really got to me. It's easy to sing alleluia at church or when everything is hunky-dory, but that's not how life is all the time. There are times when you're in the pits and your voice is barely a whisper, but that doesn't mean you can't sing alleluia through it all. This song was a continuous comfort to me as I faced the many emotions and uncertainties of the year.
   
   Well. At the final party of choir tour, Bob always gives away his personal copies of the year's repertoire to the graduating seniors--so each senior gets a piece of our music with his markings and whatnot. I got Whitacre's "Alleluia." I've gotten a lot of gifts in my life for various occasions, but let me just tell you, I can't think of many that are more precious to me than this score. You know how people ask that question, "If the building was on fire and you had ___ seconds to grab something, what would you grab?" I'd grab this piece of music. I'm not sure what else, but I'd take "Alleluia." I don't know if Bob quite knew what he was giving me when he gave me this song, but I'll be forever grateful.
   
   If you've never heard this piece, or maybe you've never heard any of Whitacre's arrangements, I feel very sorry for you and would like to share the link to this song--my (!!!) song--with you here. It even has pretty pictures to go with it. You're welcome.
7. Lizards. Basically, lizards are to Puerto Rico as squirrels are to Bethel--which is to say, you're really excited to see them till you realize that they're everywhere. I never got tired of them, myself. I thought they were kind of cute. It was so cool to watch them leap from place to place--these huge, death-defying leaps when compared with their own size--as though it was nothing. Like, "What, human? You can't jump ten times your height? Pssh. You're weak." Maybe so. Here's one of our reptilian little buddies:
   
8. Coffee. If you like your coffee ridiculously strong (like I do), this was for you. No matter how awesome breakfast was, the coffee always stole the show. It was rich and dark and beautiful. A second cup wasn't necessary, but it sure was nice. Seriously, the perfect coffee.
   
   But I got this espresso one day at a cafe, and that was an experience. It came in this innocent little cup that seemed to say, "Hey! I'm adorable and just want to be friends!"
   
   but then you take a sip and it's like, "NOW I OWN YOU, FOOL!" It looked so harmless but tasted so dangerous. It took me the entirety of one meal--which includes waiting for said meal to arrive--to finish that "innocent" little cup of espresso. Was it good? Once I got off the floor, yes. And it kept me wide awake for the next twelve hours, which was handy. 
9. Fellowship. Since we stayed together in a retreat center this year rather than breaking off every night to go to our respective host homes, we had many more (and better) opportunities to spend time together as a choir family. The retreat center had two swimming pools which we gladly made use of every day, rain or shine, usually with an interesting array of pool toys (including the inflatable cow I brought along, which was accidentally popped by a fellow choir member who shall not be named...poor Besita). But the retreat center was also surrounded by gorgeous foliage that we had fun exploring on random hikes, which were exciting because we just didn't know what to expect (though as we walked the trail, we came to expect lots of random piles of poop, the origin of which is still a mystery (yes, you did need to know that)), since the plant life was so very different from what we were used to. At any given moment, you could walk the length of the picnic table area and find a different game being played at each table, any of which would have been happy to have you join. Some of my favorite times at the retreat center, however, were spent doing nerd stuff like reading or writing for fun with my fellow English major graduate, Andrew. Those picnic tables overlooking that gorgeous landscape were the perfect place to finish a good book.
   
   Oh, you need another picture? Here you go, then. Reading in action:
   
10. Concerts. I saved the best for last. Our music was so very warmly received in Puerto Rico, largely because choirs haven't really caught on yet in PR, so they're still very new and interesting there. Like I said earlier, we only had to sing a few notes to see camera phones pop up throughout the congregation. We were filmed, photographed, and Facebooked more times than we could count. We were hugged by more nice ladies than we were at any concert our family and friends ever came to (which should say something, because some of us come from very huggy families). The congregations we sang for in PR were the most enthusiastic I've ever seen. They would unabashedly join us in whatever our music conveyed--rhythmic clapping, movement, closed-eyed reverence, hand-raising, and the inevitable cry of A-le-LU-ya! It was contagious, infectious, and amazing. If I truly had to take a final bow with this concert, I am elated that I got to take it in Puerto Rico among such amazing people.

Did I leave anything else out?

Oh, that's right.

"Yes, Andrew, we can really go to the freaking fort!"

The Time of Your Life

Well, dudes (and lady dudes), it's ALMOST a wrap.

I have taken my last final exam ever. I have completed my last papers and homework assignments. In fact, as I write these words, I'm chilling in my room taking a break from packing up stuff to take home, knowing that I'll never move back onto this campus. It's weird. I figured I'd be a total wreck, but I'm not. I'm just kind of content, and I'm sure come August when I'm not coming back to school it'll hit me like a ton of bricks. But for now, I'm good.

I've been thinking a lot, as one tends to do so close to graduation (two days away, in case you didn't know). 

I've been going over grand memories of my college days. There were so many good times. I was a weird kid when I came here and I'm a weird kid as a graduate, but I'm a different weird kid than I was in 2010. It's weird how the past four years have flown by, yet freshman year seems like a really long time ago. I barely recognize the person I was when I came to Bethel, only partly due to the fact that I have since discovered cosmetics. I thought I knew exactly what I wanted when I got here. HA! That's a good one. Now that I'm graduating, I barely have a clue what I want; but I do know it's very different from what I wanted then. I was scared; that's why I started off as an English Ed major who wanted to get married right after graduation. I quickly realized I wasn't a teacher and that I would be doing my students a great disservice if all I really wanted to do was be a writer. As for the marriage thing, well, eventually I realized that was contingent on a lot of other things, the first of which was actually having a significant other. So...there's that.

I've also been thinking a lot about how I'll be remembered as a Bethel Pilot. Will it be as the girl with purple hair? As Mrs. Van Daan of "The Diary of Anne Frank", or, less admirably, as Mrs. Potiphar in "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat"? The loud chick? The Acorn girl? The cow enthusiast? The English major nobody knew was an English major ("WHAT? She WASN'T a theatre major?!")? These are all good things, and I'm cool with people remembering me for those reasons. But I hope some will remember me as someone who had a big heart (although maybe not literally, because that's a pretty serious defect and I'm fairly certain I don't have that). I hope they will say they saw Jesus in me, because that's what I was going for. I hope I'll be called a good friend. I don't know how much of this I succeeded in, but these are my hopes.

Now everyone asks me things like, "What's next?" or, even better, "What's your plan?" Honestly, I'm starting to wish I'd decided to go to grad school just so people would stop looking at me like I've done something wrong when I tell them I'm not going. Why am I not going? You know, seventeen years of school feels  like enough for me. Maybe someday I will, but it's not now. I'm reassured by the fact that Anne Lamott dropped out of college at nineteen so she could be a writer. Maybe I can do it, too. In any case, the questions have given me a chance to work on improv skills. A few of my favorites are, "I'm gonna pray a lot," "Maybe I'll be that person in the gorilla suit who jumps around outside Joe's Gold," and "I might get into experimental drug testing." I feel a little like a failure for having no real plan. I want to be a writer, which means I need a day job in the meantime. There's this Death Cab for Cutie Song that says, "Every plan is a tiny prayer to Father Time." Right? Is it okay to be uncertain, since the future itself is nothing if not uncertain? 

Anyway. If I'd been thinking ahead and had blogged last week as well, I would have done two blog posts about this with different lists. Instead, it's all in one because time constraints demand it to be that way. So there is *GASP!* a BONUS list of 10 things to top off my last blog post as a college student! And seriously, a huge thanks goes out to those of you who have read this dutifully since I established it and have struggled to keep up with it, to those of you who've prodded me about when a new post would come out and who have graciously accepted my impatient responses of "IDONTHAVETIMERIGHTNOW!" It has meant the world to me to have people who care enough to enthusiastically read my blog.

Yes, Andrea. That's you.

Now here we go.

10 Things I've Learned in 4 Years

1. Be who you are... As a high-schooler, I just wanted to fit in. I tried every which way to get the popular kids to notice me, but no amount of change would make them accept me. Then I showed up to Bethel and I didn't know what to be except myself, and people loved it. Many of them became my friends and came to love the ridiculous, loud, colorful, crazy person that I am; but best of all, they helped me figure out how to accept myself for all those quirks. I often wonder how my high school experience would have differed if I'd unabashedly been myself, but I'm just glad that's who I am now.
2. ...but know when to rein it in. Because I did occasionally scare some people with my craziness. Maybe "always" isn't an appropriate time to be obnoxious, and maybe "anyone" isn't the right person to make stupid jokes around. Context is a big deal! It's necessary to have both a neon and a pastel version of oneself, and to know when to wear which.
3. All I know is, I don't know anything. I had it all planned out. I knew it all. Now? I'm crazy happy that I never have to do math again, except for those times "every day" when we use it. Right. I think college has taught me that even when you think you know something, it might surprise you. Certainty isn't quite a thing, for the most part. And that's okay, because someone knows.
4. Relationships are weird. PDA, dude. I've seen things nobody should ever have to see. Seriously, though, I thought I'd be one of those girls who gets married right after graduation. As previously mentioned, that isn't happening. And I'm totally okay with that, because I realized I'm just now starting to really know who I am. How can I be with someone else if I don't know myself? That isn't fair to anyone, and it would make for a total train wreck. 
5. Sleep is overrated... You're never going to remember those nights you got enough sleep. Get out there and make memories with the people you have for these four years.
6. ...but naps are where it's at. Remember how when you were a kid you hated taking naps? NO MORE! Naps are a gift from God. Whatever countries implement a standard siesta time--they're doing it right. I'm just saying. 
7. Procrastination should not be a thing. But it was definitely a thing in my last four years, and I'm graduating with honors. So honestly, just get the work done. I wish this weren't true, but I got some of my best work done at 2:00 A.M. the night before an assignment was due. Try to work ahead but don't hate yourself forever if that ends up never happening.
8. "Life is short. Buy the books." An older woman told me this at the Festival of Faith and Writing and I accept this as truth. Or at least as justification for buying the amount of books I buy.
9. Reality > virtual reality. Facebook is nice, but if you "live there," people tend to treat you like someone who has a terminal illness. "Oh, your posts are so...funny...!" (This was my whole freshman year, by the way.) And I love Netflix as much as anybody, but I only faintly remember the nights I had an all-night movie marathon by myself. I remember all the nights I got behind on TV shows because I chose to hang out with real, flesh-and-blood people.
10. Prepare to be surprised at your best friends. Sure, there were those with whom I just clicked instantly and it was all cheery happy friendship from there. But the majority of my friends are people who, upon first meeting, I didn't care for and wanted to intentionally not befriend. (And, teehee, most of them felt the same way about me!) I think that's when God starts laughing and decides that yeah, you're going to be friends with that enemy. I'm so thankful for these people. They're some of my favorites and I'm so glad we could get over our distaste for one another and start being friends.

10 Greatest Memories of Bethel College (probably inaccurate, certainly incomplete, in no particular order)

1. "The Diary of Anne Frank." It was the hardest show I've ever been a part of and one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life, but not a day has gone by since we struck this show that I haven't thought about it with fond memories. I remember the sleepless nights, super intense four-hour rehearsals, the constant struggle to figure out who my character really was, and of course the question of, "When will I actually get this homework done?" But mostly I remember the closeness of the cast, the time spent "living" in the Annex, and the performances we gave. We truly poured our hearts and souls into this show, and I'll always be grateful for it.
   
   The Van Daan clan: Robert (Mr. Van Daan), me (Mrs. Van Daan), and Wesley (Peter Van Daan). They were the best.
   
   
   ^a more accurate representation of the cast.
   
2. Choir Tour 2013. See my previous post about this tour, but it was just wonderful. Seeing different states, staying in host homes (which I'm sad I won't be doing anymore, because it was kind of cool to see where you'd end up every night), singing in different churches, and of course spending hours at a time on a bus...what could be better? Perhaps choir tour in Puerto Rico...teehee. (FOUR DAYS. THAT'S ALL THAT STANDS BETWEEN US NOW!!!)
3. Concert Choir. I know this isn't really a specific event, but some of my best times were had as a member of Bethel choirs. The concert choir is one of the biggest reasons I came to Bethel, actually, and every time I got to sing with my choir family I was reaffirmed in my decision. Bob and Marilynn have truly become my second parents. And who knew a person could have soooooo many brothers and sisters? I'm going to miss this part of college so much, maybe most of all.
   
   ^a more accurate representation of the choir, 2014.
   
4. Festival of Faith and Writing 2014. I totally meant to blog about this, but I was crazy busy before, during, and after this festival and I never got a chance to sit down and do it. Seriously, though, this was wonderful. It was a festival full of nerds just like me who wanted to be writers, or at least who had a deep love of writing. We got to go to sessions every day and hear from authors, illustrators, screenwriters, and the like. Plus, the English majors don't do a ton of stuff together. This was a wonderful opportunity to have some good ol' nerdy fun. Also, I took a crapton of notes. The advice I got from all these authors was priceless, and I'm so glad I got peer-pressured into going.
   
   ^the seniors' "vanfie" (selfie in the van)
   
   
   the group!
   
5. Family Guy nights. So once upon a time I met this kid named Kolee and we realized we both had an affinity for the always crude, always awesome Family Guy. We decided we should make a regular night to get together and watch it, so we started getting together on Sunday nights to marathon-watch episodes of Family Guy. I figured this would happen for a while and then die out, but it never did. Two years later (okay, two school years...but still) we are seven seasons into Family Guy (though it's mostly re-watching) and we only missed a few Sundays, not counting breaks. People underestimate the extent to which a TV show can form bonds. I'm just saying. I'm going to miss those Sunday nights.
6. Acorn. I used to think working in food service was a level to which I didn't want to stoop. Then I realized I was uber poor and needed money, and it seemed like the students who worked at the Acorn hated their jobs less than everyone else, so I started working there. Let me just tell you I was dead wrong. First of all, never go thinking you're "above" a line of work (unless it's dealing drugs or something, because yeah, you probably shouldn't do that). It's just not true. I loved working at the Acorn. I rarely had a bad shift, and when I did it was usually because of something non-Acorn-related. I had the best boss and all the best student managers, who quickly became friends. I met and befriended people I never would have met if not for making their sandwich every day. And it just occurred to me as I worked there how full of life the place was, and how much happens there. I still want to write "ACORN: the musical" and I hope you will all forgive me that it hasn't happened yet. But I feel like now I have even more fodder for it, so maybe it's ultimately a good thing. I work my last shift in three hours, and it's gonna be rough saying goodbye to that place.
7. Having purple hair. This might seem like a stupid one to make the list, but I don't even care. It's amazing what I learned from this experience. All I thought would happen was that my hair would be purple, but actually it was a great social experiment. You realize a lot about people based on how they react to oddly colored hair. It's not necessarily the tried & true friends you have to worry about, because they're stuck with you no matter what they think (and, also, will probably just tell you what they think). It's the acquaintances you learn about. If they like it, they freak out and go, "It's sooooooo awesome!" and/or "You wear it well." If they don't, it's something more along the lines of pursing the lips and, "So...what prompted you to do this?" I mean, it's purple hair. I didn't expect people to like it and wasn't offended if they didn't. But it was interesting to see how people reacted when they couldn't quite hide how they really felt. Also, I just loved the purple. It was loud and obvious like me, and it meant I was colorful even when I was wearing all black. Plus it was the end(-ish) of a very long, very grey winter. The world needed some color, and I was glad it could be me. Long live the purple.
   
   photo credit Alyssa Lang, aka "the puppy."
   
8. New friends, new music. A real friend introduces you to a song and/or band you wouldn't otherwise have heard of. Maybe that new jam will be forgettable, but maybe it'll change your life. Maybe that person will introduce you to the song that becomes the soundtrack to your life. Also, I realized how many of my friends and I really bonded when we had that conversation of, "You know that song, too?!" Music is a very personal thing, and it's great when you can share it with friends.
9. Strikes.  I thought I would hate having to tear down sets and put away costumes and props after the end of a play (I mean, they weren't any fun in high school), but these somehow became one of my favorite things. It became a pleasant way to put a show to rest. The camaraderie among cast and crew was always stellar, especially if we had to move a lot of big pieces in cold weather. ALL THAT ADRENALINE!!! And then we'd go out to IHOP, because we'd earned it. And I may or may not have this obsession with CinnaStack pancakes. Oh...and there was this one time at post-strike IHOP when my roommate Megan made me laugh and I consequently spewed hot coffee all over Johan. So, oops... 
10. Roommates. I never had to share a room growing up, nor did I ever have a sister, so learning to live with 50+ women was a definite adjustment. Still, it was a good thing. I had different roommate situations every year and they were all ultimately good. There are always struggles because everyone is different. Everyone I've lived with has taught me about myself and I've got some great memories of all of them. Having a roommate might be difficult, but I do believe it's always better that way. I'm so thankful for the experiences I've had with them.
    
    Freshman year with Erin Hudgens, imitating the theatre masks. Yes.
    
    
    The Lammy 303 crew, 2014: Alyssa, Megan, Captain Awesome, and Michelle.
    

As a Green Day fan, naturally "Good Riddance (the Time of Your Life)" has been playing in my head almost nonstop since wrapping up my college career. The repeated line goes: "It's something unpredictable, but in the end that's right. I hope you've had the time of your life." 

I have. I have indeed.

"Get thee to a nunnery!"

Hey folks! 

Well, it's a new semester and I am as busy as ever. It's a good feeling, aside from having little time to do things like blog, crochet, etc. I have plenty of time for reading, though, since I am in two literature courses and, well, I have to.

Much of what has consumed my time thus far this semester, however, is rehearsal for Bethel's spring musical, The Sound of Music. I hadn't expected it to be so much work since I am merely a nun, but have come to realize that there is nothing easy about being a nun, even if only for the stage. This point was proven time and time again this morning--just hours ago--as some of the other nuns and I visited a convent as part of our character research. We had the opportunity to visit the Sisters of St. Francis of Perpetual Adoration. Most (if not all) of us didn't really know what to expect, and I was astounded at how we were blessed by this visit.

The convent itself, first of all, was beautiful. Sister Dorothy, who has been a nun for over fifty years, gave us a tour of the place and led us through many great halls. We met their postulants and novices in one of these halls. The hall itself consisted of a lot of marble and beautiful arched ceilings, and our voices echoed as we, the stage nuns, bounced questions off the practicing nuns. I was struck by how very much like us they all were. They were students themselves, also wondered about whether to wear contacts or glasses, and had deep love and appreciation for music, too. The last part was a particularly nice surprise as the nuns in The Sound of Music are continually getting after Maria for singing in the Abbey, though we ourselves all love to sing. And speaking of which...

As soon as we entered this lovely marble hall, most of us were just aching to sing something. When we found out they had their own choir, we asked if they would sing something for us. After a brief discussion of what to sing, they went to the marble stairs (where the acoustics were the best) and sang for us, their voices airy and straight-tone. It was so beautiful that a few notes into the song I couldn't help but tear up. When they were finished, they asked us to sing something ourselves. It was our honor to go to the stairs ourselves and sing them our Morning Hymn from the show. It never sounded better. If only we could take the acoustics with us! But in those moments, singing Rex admirabilis on the marble stairs of the convent, my heart was content. I think we all stumbled off the stairs a little shakily, as if exiting a dream. I did, at any rate. 

A bit later, Sister Dorothy led us to their chapel and we got to say (and sing) their morning prayers with the other nuns. Much of the scripture we used for the prayers were familiar verses from the psalms, and I recognized a few other memorized prayers from experiences with my mother's side of the family. My favorite part of the prayer was Psalm 119:87-88:

They almost made an end of me on earth,

But I did not forsake Your precepts.

Revive me according to Your lovingkindness,

So that I may keep the testimony of Your mouth.

So what did I take from this experience? It was amazing. I was excited to go, but had no idea how powerful the experience would be. I was moved by many things at this convent and truly thank God for the experience. Obviously these are nuns of the Catholic faith and they do believe a bit differently than I do as a Christian, but I was struck by how much overlap there was. There was no doubt of their faith, no timidity in their beliefs. Sister Dorothy told us many times while we were there how important it was that we read our Bibles, and how wonderful Jesus was; she told us, "Remember how, in the Bible, when Jesus was on this earth, everyone flocked to be close to him? But he's here right now. We are close to him." I was constantly amazed, and have compiled the following list as a bit of what I've learned to admire about the high calling to be a nun.

Ten Things I Have Learned (and loved) About Nun Life

1. Perpetual adoration. Maybe you thought, as I did, that "Sisters of St. Francis of Perpetual Adoration" was just a name they gave themselves. I guess I couldn't really fathom something so huge as perpetual adoration. In actuality, Sister Dorothy explained to us, there has been at least one nun in the chapel praying constantly for the last 150 years. Think about that. In 150 years, there has never been a moment that the room was unoccupied and no one was praying.
2. Vocation to the Gospel. As a nun, your primary vocation is to live the Gospel. Each nun eventually takes on a way to support herself, but that vocation is always secondary to the Gospel. 
3. Materialism is unnecessary. It was so interesting when Sister Dorothy told us about their Christmas tradition. Each nun draws the name of another and commits to pray for her leading up to Christmas, at which point they give not gifts but rather personal cards to their prayed-for sister. It was like our choir tradition of prayer partners, except without gifts, because the nuns believe that possessions are simply not necessary. It struck me as beautiful that the gift they give to others is their kind written words. What other gift would they need? Nothing is better than kind words and prayers.
4. Joy in simple tasks. The convent is cleaned and tended to by the nuns, particularly the postulants. There is no complaint in this; in fact the postulant who explained this to us was gleeful about it. Granted she was basically gleeful about everything, but you could tell she took real joy in the tasks she had for the convent. 
5. "Your name is indicative of your mission." This is something Sister Dorothy told us as she was explaining the process by which postulants receive their new names when they become novices. I found this very interesting because my own name, Christen, means "Christian, anointed" and the spelling is synonymous with baptism. Granted it is my given name, and I think my parents chose it primarily because they liked the name, but it's very interesting to me to look at my name's meaning as a vocation. It's quite a vocation to be called to. I'm excited to start looking at it that way.
6. Devotion. One of the first things Jill, our music director for the show, told us about being nuns is, "You are not changing your life; you are sacrificing yourself." This couldn't be truer, and it's been something I've thought a lot about in preparing for this role; yet, I was totally surprised to see the joy the nuns took in their devotion to their lives in the convent. They are up at 5:30 each morning to begin their prayers and take such joy in devoting their time to prayer. Celeste, the incredibly gleeful postulant I mentioned earlier, got so excited about prayer. These women are fully devoted to the vows they took of poverty, chastity, and obedience, and are thoroughly excited about how these things will further God's Kingdom. While I do not feel called to be a real-life nun, I hope I can emulate even a fraction of that devotion.
7. Writing letters to family. The nuns (at postulant level, anyway) are encouraged to write letters to their families and get to call them on special occasions. While I would have a hard time with limited contact to my family, I really appreciate the gesture of old-school letter-writing. Messages mean so much when someone has taken the time to hand-craft them.
8. Learning about oneself. One of the novices, Sister Joan, said something I had to write down: "It's amazing how much you can learn about yourself when you're learning about Our Lord." So beautiful, so true, and so simply put. It was one statement in the middle of a flurry of others, said so easily, and yet had so much significance.
9. Nun roommates. This marks the first show my roommate Michelle and I have actually been able to do together, and we are both nuns! It was awesome to get to share the convent experience with her. From waking up earlier than we'd wanted to on a Saturday morning to trying to figure out what to wear to a convent to singing with the nuns to sharing favorite convent moments afterwards (and thus agreeing it was totally worth waking up early), it was a really awesome roommate experience.
10. Habits are actually really awesome! Sorry, I had to say it. I'm really excited to don my wimple and be a nun this Valentine's Day. That's all I have to say.

With that in mind, our show runs February 13, 14, and 15 at 7:30 pm with a 2 pm matinee on the 15th. Tickets are going fast, so get yours soon and come join in the nunsense! Till next time, blessings to you all.

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.