Endure... No Enjoy til the End.

I hiked rock canyon park for the first time today. It was an interesting experience. Being from the east jagged sharp granite (I'm assuming) is a new experience. My Appalachians are rolling blue green beauties. I went alone and just enjoyed the experience. I thought of how these mountains have been there for years. What stories did they have to tell? Squaw peak has seen plenty of virtue lost, but it has also seen the early saints arrive, settle and find a home. I saw deer foraging on a steep slope. I realized how life finds a way to survive. The circumstances may be a cold, windy, rock covered mountain... and yet grass sprouts forth. I postponed a lot of homework and responsibilities for this climb, and I don't regret it. I think I have commented on this before, but Frost's "Nothing Gold Can Stay" passed my mind looking down as the sunset splashed its last rays on Utah lake. I thought of Stargirl and Spinelli. Remembering where we came from, not just living on it. Lots of random thoughts just kinda spilling out... I guess this semester can be summarized by a quote from Gordon B Hinckely, "Life is meant to be enjoyed. Not just endured."

Disney

If I were to be a Disney character I would Simba. Simba's life is defined by tragic events that he rises like a phoenix from his own ashes. The death of his father leaves him with introspection and a theory for life, "Hakuna Matata." This is something that I believe in to an extent. I think the world is to consumed by the small things in life. Hakuna Matata indeed. How is it that we fret over what color to wear to a prom when slaughter occurs in Tibet. The little things in life should not weigh us down, but makes us more grateful for the blessing that lace our lives. Simba doesn't realize who is he is and consequently runs away from a potential destined to bloom. He is loyal to his friends and his mother, while accepting the demons in his own life. These demons shape him into the king the others see naturally within him; however, it takes his life being run by hyenas and his home burnt to ashes until he comes into his own.

Shedding Light

I haven't written here in a while, and I'm not sure why I need to today. Maybe I'm driven by the 12:00 deadline. I have an Arabic midterm that is considerably more important than this; yet, here I am. I'm supposed to go camping on Thursday and I can't decide if I want to go. Theres lots of reasons, many aren't going to be listed here. Just feel like lately I've been shedding light. My old Branch President from Manhattan gave his homecoming speech on Sunday, and since then it's been rough. One of those, great and horrible "Best of times, worst of times..." situations. I saw my first flower of spring two days ago. I stood there and just looked at it. It was a small purple flower growing between the cracks of a sidewalk. Interesting that the place obscuring light, is the place where the flower struggles the most to find it. That should be us, not the flower but the light. Shining in the hardest situations so that a person can find their spring. It's like Frost's "Nothing Gold Can Stay", yet that doesn't mean we should ignore that "gold" in it's entirety. Shedding light, not tears... thanks susan

Cheetos...

So I decided the ultimate comfort food for me: Cheetos. They need to be the crunchy kind, not the puffy ones... I hate the puffs. They stain your fingers, and are full of fat, but there is something about a bag of cheetos that makes me remember to smile. Easter candy also has a place in my heart. Those Cadbury chocolate eggs, not the creme filled ones so much, but the candy shell coated kind.... mmmmm. The best is chocolate chip cookies out of those. Peeps is another topic that needs to be addressed. I have mixed feeling about those marshmallow creatures... the bunnies I can tolerate, well I can tolerate eating one. The chicks are way too much mallow. Does anybody else prefer them hard? I've heard frozen is also a great option.

Rexburg

I just got home from Rexburg for the dedication of the temple. I was supposed to interpret for it, but no one showed up needing interpretation, so I was able to just be there. After the sessions finished, we cleaned up the temple. Nearly 4000 chairs needed removed, the furniture needed to be placed, and carpets needed cleaned. That was an experience. The best part was how the celestial room felt like a celestial room even in a pair of jeans. The spirit in that house dedicated to our Lord, was a testimony to me of truth found with in. I'm a bit discouraged to come back to Provo to be honest. The town kinda makes me sad, I just feel as if the world around us keeps moving, while we're lost in a dream land of marriage and school. Reminds me of Mr Bagina's talk... it's interesting how a paper occupies the space of our mind, and genocide is carried out silently to our ears. Random tangent, I know... just something I've been thinking about.

Rally for Change

Monday morning came and I woke up to watch the news before class. I saw that Michelle Obama was coming to SLC to campaign for her husband, and a rally was open to the public. It sparked my interest and I walked to campus with it itching my mind. I called my Mom for a voice of reason, and she encouraged me to go, "experience history in the making." I called my friend Ginger and asked if she was interested in ditching school for the Obama experience, she agreed and our adventure commenced. An hour later we found ourselves in line with others waiting to enter the Salt Palace. The news cameras were bright and in your face, and the people friendly. We gathered all the gratis items we could, and made our way into the reception hall. 3 rows behind the stand we were gathered with an enthusiastic group all seeking something... change. We did the wave, cheered and chanted "Yes we can" until our voices grew hoarse. Michelle's talk was amazing. It inspired me with hope, and refueled my belief in America. I found myself enthralled by here use of rhetoric. To quote her, "I didn't drink the kool-aid" but I heard the topics, and decided for myself. I met her after and thanked her for her moving words, and her belief in changing this world to make it a better place for our children. I walked away a believer and a dreamer. Yes we can.

Moon

Do you remember tree stars? What about sharptooth? I wonder about them often, as well as a bird that needs to be followed. Finding a home is something we all need, and yet that home is sometimes right here in Queens. A Deaf gospel is sometimes needed, but so is a bitter apple. Dinosaurs tend to hang on wooden doors for a short time. Interesting how candy buttons will run, hide and still smile... for you. Sledding beats museums, but not always happily. What can you do? Honestly... A good job is enough Donny. Surrounded and still alone, weeping. Unfair? Perhaps, and still we, no... you, press on without doubt. Rescue Rangers, remember? Groundhogs await friday, promise. Groundhogs and whatever you want. Penny lane comforts restlessly, but littlefoot needs a friend. Mom doesn't always know best, remember that. Learning what is important... for me, for you. Truly Ad astra per aspera. Eclipsed

Like endless rain into a paper cup...

I had the opportunity to go see Across the Universe on Saturday. I loved the move more than I could capture here with a blog. It was so full of imagery and symbolism. It was definitely an "artsy" movie, but that is why I loved it. The experience over all was awful. This may seem like a strange blog for a food topic, but i feel it compares to being in a restaurant. The mood and the audience or other customers can make or break your experience. The theater was packed full of teenagers that decided they needed to talk constantly through the movie. My chair leaned back a bit more than the others, so I was right in an earshot. I also was granted the opportunity to have my chair bounced like a bronco by a tall boys knees. The movie begins and the first comment was, "Is this a musical? Great! (sarcastic)" How do you come to see a movie based around The Beatles' music and think they won't sing??? Just a question. The movie apparently was a bit too deep for those around me as well. Strawberry fields forever was by far my favorite. The strawberries were dropped like bombs on Vietnam, while the red juice and pulp captured the gore. It wasn't a Gladiator gore, it was a Salavdor Dali meets Monet. People walked out during the movie pretty consistently. I understand that not every one has the same taste in movies, or food. I'm okay with agreeing to disagree. There was a part where Jude (the main character) was drawing a picture of his girlfriend Lucy while she was sleeping. The sheet had fallen off her topless body, and she was clothed in a darkness of shadows. That was the limit for most movie goers. Her body in art, nude art albeit, was too much. I thought about, what drives a person to reach that point with morals where they are willing to leave? The movie had displayed drinking, profanity, and drug use prior to this scene. Is there a limit to how much we'll tolerate? Is there a sin scale? Or is it a desensitized thing. I don't write these comments with a judging heart. I watched the movie, and I accept that. I just left a bit confused with when does one decide, "Marijuana... okay. Alcohol, sure... but nude art? I'm done." I guess that's my blog question. How can we ( a Mormon community) sit through drugs, alcohol and profanity and say, "Let it be." But nude art turns an audience, helter skelter? Either way, I suggest the movie. I would suggest seeing it with people who have an open mind and who can appreciate a movie for something more than it's face value.

Rare.... Rare as you can cook it.

-"Just eat the chicken!"
-"NO! I don't want to!"
-"A growing child your age needs to eat meat. You can't leave this kitchen 'til you eat it!"
That was some 8 years ago. I have always had quite the liberal streak in me. Add that to a hard headed personality, and you'll find a difficult child. I have never had an enjoyment for meat. I'm not a ferret freeing fanatic like PETA, I just prefer to not eat meat. Especially steak. I just can't detach from the idea of what it is. That brings us to tonight. January 12... My brother has reached his 25th birthday and Texas steakhouse is the restaurant of choice. 3 hours later, we are seated by a woman name J' nae. I ignored the menu as options for dinner were openly discussed. My nephew is much more entertaining to me than a 'bloomin' onion.' We each take turns announcing our decision for dinner that night, and my brother decides on the steak/rib combo. Upon question how he'd like his meat cooked, he replies, "Rare... Rare as you can cook it." Fast forward 20 minutes. Knife in one hand, flesh on a plate he begins to cut. Cutting undercooked meat is a lot like slapping a tub full of jello. The blow isn't penetrating. He endures, and takes a victory moment by showing me the prize, a limp red morsel. Amazing how it's repulsive to one, and celestial to another. I sit happy with a salad and sweet potato. ( no toasted marshmallows ) This isn't a 'Cow's are friends' campaign blog. I just find it interesting that he is willing to wait 3 hours for the very product that churns my stomach like cud. Besides the dinner made him happy and that ultimately was the goal. And who doesn't love to hear a chorus of Utahn's screaming, "YEEEEEEHAWWWWS" bringing in a bowl of birthday ice cream?

"Soppin' with a biscuit til the yella's gone..."

So this is my first blog. I have never done this before, and I never imagined that I would be "blogging." This blog is related to food so I decided to focus around my favorite type of food... southern. Living in Virginia I have enjoyed foods that are foreign to Utah. I hate having to explain what's a hushpuppy. And yes, you do dip it in butter. NO, it isn't good for you, but it's not supposed to be. Yes , I do enjoy sweet tea. Not that nasty unsweetened nonsense here... and before I offend my English 150 neighbors, it's herbal sweet tea. I still stand in a chalk circle, no worries. I hate that Popeye's is associated with a cartoon, and not the best fast food fried chicken. Crawfish, Catfish and my personal favorite okra. Fried okra is something I could eat everyday. I remember as a child going with my Gramma Jean to Pofolk's, and eating a catfish dinner with a double helping of fried okra. I would wrap up the skeleton from the fish and use it's ribs as a comb for the next couple of days. I would love to be back home in Sadie's trailer eating her collard greens, and topping it all off with her pecan pie. That is livin'.