Winter

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It snowed today. White little flakes reminding me of winter. I feel like I should go and gather nuts so that I will have food for the season that kills. But who's afraid of the snow when we have H1N1 virus floating around. H1N1 has BYU paranoid....and their constant e-mails to professors has been the best! I've been missing school because I've been sick and teachers have to be nice (the e-mails say so.) Thank you swine flu, thank you.

Welcome October

Happy Fall

First Leaf

by Lia Purpura October 5, 2009

That yellow

was a falling off,

a fall

for once I saw

coming—

it could

in its stillness

still be turned from,

it was not

yet ferocious,

its hold drew me,

was a shiny switchplate

in the otherwise dark,

rash, ongoing green,

a green so hungry

for light and air that

part gave up,

went alone,

chose to leave,

and by choosing

embellishment

got seen.

long time, no blog

Welcome to the CANDY SHOPPE. The snapshot is of some of my best friends and I in front of the house that we live in, properly named the candy shoppe. Already this year has been a blast. The people in the picture (from left to right) are me, Mandi, Mary, Kellee, Reb, and Kylie. I love the house, partly because it is so nice but mostly because I get to go home to some of my favorite people every day. Notice the porch, yesterday my friends and I enjoyed a chilled dr. pepper and talked--absolute bliss for me.

My senior year of college is going to be filled with a lot of school, but this time it's fun school. Tomorrow I go to mt. view high school to start working with the teacher who I will be doing my student teaching with in January. It's amazing that they are going to trust me to teach students how to write and enjoy english. Cross your fingers that it goes well. The rest of my time is trying to figure out poetry and transcendalist authors.

Anyway, I just wanted to say that I am excited for the new year and appreaciative of all the blessings that I recieve and remember girls 09 is our year!

Ps: Below are some random pictures that were taken the same day. I'm sure you're curious who the amazing photographer is....and it should come to no surprise that it was Kylie. She is so talented.

Kel and I

MJ, Mandi and I swinging on our neighbors swing. We wish it was on our porch but for now we'll take the chairs and dp.

Bat, the animal...not the sporting equipment

This last week I was able to go to my cabin in Idaho. Lets clarify cabin really quick. It's more like a house, well it is a house, complete with all the amenities and a fire pit in the front so it 'feels' like camping. Yes sir, that is how I rough it in the wilderness. The days were filled with early morning mountain bike rides and canoe trips. Smores dominated the nights, while i discovered possibly my new favorite short story writer (read Flannery O'conner's short story A Good Man is Hard to Find or Good Country People--they definitely make you think). Anyway it was my kind of vacation, lots of food, family, and no cell phone service. Then it all changed.

I have been having difficulty sleeping recently and so I was sitting in my bed listening to music that erica, once again, so kindly donated. I looked out my door and saw my dad sitting on the stairs. I asked him what he was doing and he coolly replied "I think I just saw a bat." My retort was laughter and I quickly reminded him that I was mocking him and bats prior to his going to bed so it must have been that conversation that caused him to dream of bats. He was not convinced so he went down stairs. An hour later I was still up and this time thinking about bats. I couldn't go to sleep so I meandered down stairs, curled up on a couch and watched the ceiling. I must have drifted off to sleep because i had a terrifying dream of bats attacking me and a mine worker coming after me. I was, once again, awake.

The solution? I couldn't stop thinking about the bats so the 21-year-old mature almost college grad, myself, did the only think I could think of. I went and slept on my parent’s floor. Then, somewhere around four am my mom shrieks "BAT." We scramble to exit the room. My aunt and uncle who were up there with us run out. There might have been screaming and profanity. Then, after we were all armed with pillows we see a silent, gliding bat effortlessly cut through the air, with the illusion that it was magic creating his flight.

When I had gone into my parent’s room I had shut the door which means that the flying rat had crawled into the room--right by my head--disgusting. Luckily my fearless, bat attacking uncle went after the nocturnal being and captured it. While the bat was chewing on his leather gloves my uncle showed an act of stupid (but endearing) charity and released the bat out in the wild.

Why are bats scary you ask? True they are creepy, yes they make high pitched scary noises, and yes they do have a reputation of morphing into vampires but the truth is even more scary. The bats can bite you without you feeling it and you can get rabies. Safe to say I was happy when the bat was gone. Anyway, i hope the attached picture is scary enough for you because i find it revolting. Word to the wise-watch out for the bats.

Three Cups of Tea

Last summer I read a book titled "Three Cups of Tea" by Greg Mortenson. This books is an idealistic tale of building schools in Pakistan and Afghanistan in hopes that the women there can rise above their impoverished world and create a better world for themselves and their children. In a society where sexism is the norm, the goal of Mortenson gave me a rush of hope in humanity. There is a great article about it by Thomas Friedman called "Teacher, Can We Leave Now? No." It takes a step back from the political world of wars and contention and looks at the potential for improvement that these undeveloped nations have, and illustrated that there is a promise for a better future.

Anyway, it's a good book which I would highly recommend. In other news I went to Toronto CA where I realized that Canada struggles from a severe identity crisis. They hail the queen, cross the boarder for American health care, and claim their own independence. Poor Canada, it has no idea what it is. It doesn't even know which language to speak. Regardless, it was so cool and I loved being back in a city with streets by the name of Queen and King. I also went to Niagara falls where I rode a boat into a cavern made of walls of rushing water. It was so funny. I also went to Palmyra NY which was interesting. Ps: no one lives there.

a little reminder.....

I just got an e-mail, --and no my eye's didn't light up like little miss meg ryans do in you've got mail-- but i still get excited. so, an e-mail came to my overly crowded and disorganized inbox, each unopened letter begging to be answered and read....anyway that inbox had a new note. It was from the Provo library reminding me my book is due in three days. I wish that most things in life came with an e-mail reminder; it would be so helpful. Just little hints at what is coming up. It was great. I wonder what little notes would come with the secrets of the new week.

look outside, go outside, be outside

What is that green, fuzzy, oxygen releasing thing covering this world. That, my friend, is nature. Nature has this amazing ability to be the sublime; it takes the minuscule and powerful and after time reduces it to parts, atoms, and then seemingly nothing. The cruelty can seem oppressive while the intricacy may delight, and so it is in the duplexity of this purpose the inspires awe. Don't believe me? Look at the littered apple that evaporates within weeks outside, or on a grandeur scale that Aztec ruins that are slowly, but surely, being feed to the ravenous hunger of the nature.

It may seem like I'm personifying nature, but i don't feel like that. If anything nature has a type of spirit or reality that we can not relate to, but is evidenced in its action. This inability to relate has resulted in the continual musings of the artist. This dissonance with nature explains why poetry is often focused on nature. cloleridge, wordsworth, dickensons all have almost unnatural obsessions of nature, as well as the monets and seurats of the world.

So as i sit in my office, in a small concrete jungle, or descend below nature to a cubical on the first floor of the library I hear nature calling me to experience it. Urging and daring me to attempt to make my own criticisms of the power and effects it has on us. But alas, that philosophical deliberation about its purpose must wait as i study, and sit.

...all i want to do is go and play in the sun

random

So my life has been really busy, and yesterday I went to class and we were talking about Rome. It's true, Rome was a great city...ten minutes later I was asleep. When I awoke from my very brief nap my teacher was saying "Rome was gone..." So in the course of a 9 minute nap one of the most powerful societies ever had fallen. Um...its was so bizarre.

Anyway, a more important note is that my big brother Nick graduated from medical school on Saturday! Happy Graduation Dr. Orme. In the picture he's with his wife Cassi, son Adam, at his daughter Mariee's grave--look how cute my sister-in-law decorated it. I love you and miss you guys!

sick

I started feeling sick on Monday...nothing serious, just a bad cough. Tuesday was worse. If I lived where people smoked many would have thought I was suffering from severe emphysema, but alas it's just my incredibly week immune system. So I continue on. I was in class until 9 pm and then went home and went to bed. Granted I know this story is not interesting, but I will make my point soon. So on Wednesday I have a test that I have to take that day in the testing center. For those who don’t know what the testing center is, it is a horrible room at BYU where mass classes and students go to take tests during their own time so that professors aren’t bothered to take away lecture time while we take tests. The result: no time between a test and new material. But, I digress, so I get up, go back to sleep, get up again and force myself out the door. Little studying, and a foggy perception on life was sure to make a perfect recipe for the test. So, I go to the classy store around the corner (days) and spend 1.50 more then the usual 6.00 cold medicine so that I could have EXTREME TYLENOL. I was sure it was going to make the difference. When I get there I asked if I could have my own room because I have this ridiculous cold/cough/loud disaster in my body...she looks at me and politely says "I’m sorry, you need special permission--you'll be ok in the normal room." At this point I’m literally laughing inside because little does she know i'm the biggest distraction that could cause insane mayhem and madness inside the testing room. About to embark upon the room, I am overcome with a fit of coughing. Not just a cough, but my bodies attempt to relieve itself of the lungs that are causing it such pain. I slowly walk away from the door, literally find myself in a corner, and proceed to cough. At this point everyone is looking at me and the three boys behind me are thinking this girl is wicked sick, she better not get me sick, and she better not distract me in the room. Why would they let her in? So, after two minutes of my near death, gagging, and crying in the test registration room (i'm not exaggerating...which is sad) I go to return my test because I clearly can not walk into a room with 150+ people. The lady, the same who said I would be fine, hands me a box of kleenex and says "I think we can find you a room." I was led to my own private room where I was told I was on camera so I will get caught if I cheat. Deal. 30 minutes and 60 tissues later I walked out with a bruised ego along with a C (probably) on my test (a consequence of not studying and underestimating the test) and go home.

And I wonder--why did I have to go through the public humiliation when there was a room clearly available. Why are people so uptight...I was just a sick girl trying to pass school.

The next day I didn't go to work or school and watched about ten hours of one tree hill....they say it's ok to waste your life when you’re sick.

Anyway, I’m feeling better now but I thought I would retell this story so that you all might remember to be nice to those who are sick, they probably aren't lying. And remember, when there is an available room--give it to them. There is little harm in helping others.

belated april post

ode to April: The Waste Land by T.S. Elliot

I. The Burial of the Dead

April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.

goodbye April-welcome MAY!

also, if you want to read an amazing short story read "Becoming Hitler"

A week in review

Pros and cons to week 3/19-25.

Pros:

1. Finished my last final, at the last possible scheduled time (Wednesday from 8-10) during which I saw the longest line snaking away from the testing center to the HBLL...consequence of waiting until the 11th hour

2. Saw two movies at the dollar theater, both of which we totally worth 100 pennies and the two hours of my very disposable time (the movies were Shopaholic and He's Just Not That Into You)

3. Went to lunch with some old and dear friends and had a great raspberry salad

4. Went to a crepe party--and witnessed true guitar hero skills

5. Was privileged to attend my friends luncheon and wedding shower (perfect weather, perfect food, perfect people....sounds like an equation for a perfect life for them)

6. Sleeping in and naps became a daily duty

Cons:

1. Best friend moved out

2. 9 hours of school and 8 hours of GRE prep class start this Tuesday (aka, life ends...future still undecided)

3. Friends move away--making exciting plans for the summer. Mine are centered around cougar campus (not quite as appealing as Jerusalem, Huntington, DC or Texas)

4. Raining/snowing

5. exercising begins

Conclusion:

well pro's win with 6 so I guess it was a great week.

And a closing threat to BYU-

Becoming the center of my life has been a sneaky and difficult thing to master but you have done it well. I dare you to take more of my time this spring.....triple.dog.dare.you.

newspapers

Yesterday someone asked my how I knew about a book-I replied I had read about it in the newspaper. I read the newspaper everyday.

Dear newspapers,
I'm sorry that you're all going out of business. It's partially my fault because I don't pay for you and rob you of your informative, free, online news. Hopefully you don't all shut down, though Colorado and Seattle apparently couldn't handle the technological revolution. Goodluck with the recession though.

best,
Sarah

The girl then gave me a look like I was crazy. Ok, well here are my thoughts.

a. everyone should read the news--it all about the world around you and it really influences you.

b. you're more educated when you do

c. you can read about pirates (everytime i think about the pirates i laugh...it's way sad for the 200 captive people but it's just so bizarre and makes me feel like i'm in the 1700's)

d. you can join in peoples conversations

e. if actually affects your life

case in point: my parents computer as been SO slow this last month and we were going to have someone come and look at it but we hadn't yet. My dad was reading the newspaper, and there was a column about how explorer 8 makes computers that are more than two years old very slow. Hmmm....the solution to the computer problem. I uninstalled it and now i have fast access to the blogging world...and the new york times.

Thus, read the newspaper. Be informed....

Also: thanks to mandi and erica I listen to NPR's "wait wait...don't tell me" podcast every week and it's the funniest saterical commentary about the news. 60 minuets of laugh out loud fun.

nap time

Yesterday I walked into the library and saw a boy curled in fetal position under a desk. Welcome finals...I have waited for your arrival.

A Happening

Seemingly
Tempted.
Unkowningly
Determinded.
Youth

Quietly looking at gargantuan pictures of books (the embodiment of knowledge) I find myself in the titled honors room. This room is not for the honored at all but is a habitat for the future people who will create honors for themselves and their work. I begin to write. My own book, commonly termed a paper, becomes my focus. The consumption of time it demands parallels that of a book, but it would be a lie to call it such. So i sit, looking at the true books of exploration, determination, love, and fate....I embark. Sitting at the desk, books piled high, I prove myself as a student. The pages are filled and the paper is done. I submit it to the critic whose comments matter, my dad. He receives the document at 10:31 and begins. I wait. My feet, pattering in the puddles, lead me to his den, paneled with wood, in the ASB where I enter his office. He' s there, with his glasses, diligently critiquing and editing my paper. I take a seat across from his formidable table, in gratitude to not be on his opposing side, and wait. Finished, he looks up--gives me a very rare and highly valued compliment on my paper--and takes me to lunch.

Lunch is a conversation interrupted by our own laughter, both of us thinking that we are so funny. The topics vary from the ever present political ideals to the future and family. My mockery of youth, and his reminiscent stories full of advice make learners of both of us. I'm lucky to have a dad who is one of my best friends who likes to hang out with me during school, buy my lunch, laugh at my jokes, enjoy my work, has faith in my future, and cares.

Thanks dad

i suppose i'll go back to studying now..... i wish you all the best of luck on finals.

Checklists of life

They say if you want to be happy you have to try a little harder. They say if you don’t like the way things are you need to be more dedicated. They say if you want a different life you can get it but you need to be a different person, doing different things.

They suck.

I feel like I had a plan, a life plan that was going to be great. I was going to change the world, change people, be married, be leaving Utah on an adventure, and exploring ways to make this world work.

And here I sit, in the library, writing about how the combination of they and me has made me less happy about my life, and more aware of my inadequacies. There are the checklists in life, the pattern we create which we confidently generate in order to protect us from needing the advice of the ‘theys’. I am throwing the checklists away.

The checklist only makes us compare, covet and want things irrelevant to true happiness. The checklist makes me limit who I can date, and who I want to be around. The checklist demands my conversations be intellectual and not a reflection of who I am: a questioner. So for every checklist we made in young womens, college, and even the daily list of what I need to--I am throwing them out. Instead, my checklist will now be the truth of the gospel, the inspiration to help people, and the intrinsic nature of my being who knows, without stress and doubt, what makes me happy.

Goodbye checklist.

Papers

The e-mail came, wow. A note from the English Lit department. Listening to Nickle Creek, and thinking of myself as a doubting Thomas, I opened the letter. I had been chosen to present a paper at the BYU lit conference. Congratulations it said, and good luck. Open mouthed and ecstatic, I had decided that my career had begun. A shock...GREAT--i was off, my papers, my time, my thoughts, were worth something. Someone had read it; and cared. With this rush of confidence I wrote another, submitted it to a real presentation (not a collegiate one) with professors, the true 'intellects,' and waited. There, in the inbox was a small note from the Professor in charge. I opened the e-mail and, once again, it said that I was chosen to read and present my paper. The feeling of power, and success, made my feet come off the floor and swing--a physical manifestation of what my soul was doing. I had the conference presentation on my resume for graduate schools, I was going somewhere. Now on to being published...

Well, as with all acceptances, the day comes when you are expected to actually deliver. So, as i stepped into the oval, cramped room with a very limited amount of people, mostly the friends and family who would have come to anything, I realized what I was doing. I read the paper, and others read theirs, and it was over. All the excitement, all the fulfilled academic goals, were finished. And with that, I realized that I have never been more bored in my life. No truly, think of sitting in a room, staring at cardboard--not the interesting, worn, weathered, and story telling type of cardboard--but the new box from fedex, that is just a product of destroyed trees and commerce. So there you are in a room staring...at a box of cardboard. That's what the presentation was like. And it meant very little.

So now, as I sit thinking about a paper that I have to present to professors from different colleges, I can't help but think that what I will be doing is spending time on a paper that I'm not entirely convinced I believe in. Yet, the paper is so politically correct that it would be an injustice to not write about it during four year period where the democrats own e.v.e.r.y.o.n.e.

So I sit, contemplating on a lifestyle of professors who sit, discuss, and do very little to practically influence peoples lives and I am reminded that I am glad I am becoming a high school teacher.

Thanks to the friends/family that came and sat through a very boring moment in my life.

South Provo

Tonight I joined my friend to enter the world of the “indie” crowd. Feeling slightly out of place because of my modern, yet classic look of leather loafers, jeans, and a sweater; I looked at the crowd of beards, tights, and those funny hats that aren’t really hats at all but are mere extended creations of crochet. So I sat, wondering how I ended up at the Velour, and why I was so different.

Then the music began.

The bands are the up and coming, the live your dream until you succeed or have tried so hard that your soul hurts and will no longer precede. The artists who, at times, were singing so intensive as if to scream “like me, choose me, I’m trying…..really hard.” But, as I looked across the scene of those who are just naive enough to believe they can succeed, and just bold enough to try, I realized I am not that different. The words spoken were poetry, masked by music (some of which was good, some of which was not). The reference of larks was reminiscent of Thoreau, the poems of heart break similar to Drydan. Regardless of setting, each of us relate to the connection of human passion, nature, hope and the dream for a better day. After reading Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand this moment was like being the grotesque, angular animal that lives where the sun has never shown beneath the daunting and consuming ocean, and catching just a intimation of what the sun is and what possibilities exist in the upper levels of the world.