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Showing posts from May, 2011

In which impatience reigns.

I feel as if I'm stagnating. No learning, no progress, no new-ness. I clamber out of bed, clean dorms, eat lunch with Michael, accompany for a few voice lessons, and then clean toilets. Day in and day out.

I'm so ready to leave for Vienna. For new countries, new languages, new foods, new people. I'll miss my roommates, my family, and of course my Michael. But beyond that? Not much. I'd be gone today if I could be.

It all feels like...drudgery. Like I've lost that talent I had for seeing the beautiful in everything. For finding new ways to progress and grow. Where did it go? How do I get it back?

Because, like it or not, I have two more weeks here in Provo. And so I'd better make the most of them. How though?
Go running in this beautiful weather (I think I will do that as soon as I finish typing.)
Read all I can about Vienna so I can be even more excited.
Smile more. Reach out a little more to my coworkers and ward members.
Play the guitar a lot.
Read my script…

In which I share a couch with Darth Vader

Blond and cherubic, with a hint of mischief glinting in his eyes, he sat on the couch, surrounded by cheerios, crayons, and a gray, winged mask."Hello!" I smile at him, and he grins back. "Is this a Tron mask?" I ask. He frowns, and I quickly correct myself. "Thor, I mean." He beams and nods. "What's your name?" I ask eagerly. He glances around furtively and then whispers, "Dawf Vadew." "Darth Vader? Wow!" I cry, honored to be in the presence of such a famed figure. An exasperated sigh. "Brady..." says the woman across the room, "Darth Vader is the bad guy, remember? Why don't we want to be like Darth Vader?" His brow furrows, "Dawf Vadew is bad because...because he cutted of Wuke Skywalkew's awm." "That's right." She sighs again, "He keeps calling me Emperor Palpatine. Every time I ask him to do something he answers with, 'Yes, Master'".  Her James Earl Jones …

In which I share a string of possibly unconnected thoughts.

It's raining outside. Everything is misty, and the mountains are wrapped in heavy white clouds. It makes me homesick for this place:
(Can you be homesick for a place that was never your home?) 
I think I'm long overdue for some Oregon beach-camping. Hopefully I can make it summer.

In other news, yesterday was Norwegian Independence Day. Which doesn't mean much to me, except that I got to enjoy some good food and good company. I am officially in love with this: Oh, and this:
That is all. 

In which I run

I used to map my runs, to keep track of mileage and speed. Lately though, I've run lazily, without a watch, without keeping track of my distance. Just exploring, running where it looks interesting, and coming back home where I'm done.
Tonight was a beautiful evening for a run. The spring sun sifted through the glowing leaves, couples walked hand in hand, children laughed, gnats bit me.
I saw windows with cartoon characters glued in them,
                            And windows with butterflies painted on.
I saw an old man smoking, a wrinkly hippy riding his bike, and children playing with broken toy cars outside a crumbling apartment complex.
I saw a man and a woman playing frisbee. The catch? She was pushing a stroller, running with it to catch the frisbee while the tiny girl inside laughed and laughed.
I smelled barbeque, grass, and my own sweat.
I saw a boy playing his banjo on the front porch, but lacked the nerve to cross the street and ask to listen.
I saw a front porch …