When one cannot breathe, one cannot eat.

I'm in the first mainstage show of the season at the University of Maryland - The Dead, based on the short story by James Joyce by the same name. It's called a musical, but is really a play that happens to have music. This is a subtle, but very important difference. It takes place in January of 1904 in Dublin, and the majority of the show is a Christmas party. The best part is we all get to speak in Irish accents!

Rehearsals began last Tuesday. We worked almost entirely on music for the first 2 days, with some jig practice thrown in. On the 3rd day, we added my bodhran (Irish drum), and it sounds awesome. That same day the costume shop gave us our corsets. Trying to sing when I could hardly breathe was quite the feat! (Eating is tough as well - no wonder those Victorian women ate like birds!) I never knew that my waist could ever get that small - it's rather disgusting. When I touch my thumbs in the back, there is only about a 3-inch gap between my middle fingers around the front. And I haven't even been cinched up as tight as it can go yet. Though my ribs now feel very bruised (I wore the blasted thing for 4 hours on Friday night and 6 hours on Saturday), I'm glad for the chance to practice with the corset now instead of having to wait until dress rehearsal.

Watch for pictures! Coming soon. :)

PS. Name the quoted movie? Anyone?

Update

My computer arrived, but shut down 5 minutes after I turned it on. It's been sent back to the repair shop again. I'm going crazy...

Frustrated

December 2008: It's finals time, and my laptop begins to have problems. It shuts itself down randomly, sometimes when I'm working on it and sometimes when it is sitting untouched. I take to saving my work every 10 seconds.

Early January 2009: I jump through all the hoops to get my laptop sent into the repair center (luckily it's still under warranty). I miss my computer greatly.

Wednesday, 14 Jan 2009
4:30 pm:
I arrive home from a 3-day to visit family in Massachusetts. On my front door, I find a notice informing me that a package arrived for me, and the final delivery attempt was made at 12:56 that afternoon. I call UPS, input my tracking number, and am told that the box will be held at the customer center for 5 days after the final delivery attempt. I decide to pick up the box first thing in the morning.
7pm:
I recieve a phone call from UPS, and a computer voice tells me that my box will be delivered to my house the following day. I think this is strange, because the paper on my front door said that the "final delivery attempt" was already made. I phone UPS and input my tracking number again, and get the same information as that afternoon: 12:56 pm was the final attempt, and the box will be held for 5 days.

Thursday, 15 Jan 2009
8:20am
I call UPS again just to see what they say, input my tracking number, and to my surprise, am told that they tried to deliver my package at 8:53pm the previous evening (during which time I was at home, enjoying a quiet movie). I phone back and talk to a real person this time, explaining to her the mixed messages I'm getting. All I want to know is where my box is. She assures me that it's at the customer center, waiting to be picked up.
9am
I drive 20 minutes out to Laurel, and hand over my delivery notice. The box is nowhere to be found. The woman at the desk figures the driver must not have turned the package in the night before, which means that it's still on the truck. Perhaps it will be delivered today, she tells me. Since I recieved a phone call the night before to that effect, I figure that it's likely. I go home, and Scott and I take turns running errands so that one of us is home all day. No box.

Friday, 16 Jan 2009
8:30am
I call the UPS customer center and ask if they would look for my box so that I won't have to drive all the way out to Laurel only to be disappointed again. The woman can't find it. She asks for my phone number and promises to look in all the wrong places (since the box obviously isn't in the right place) and call me back. She finally calls back with the good news that the package had been found.

The bad news? The box contains only my power cord.
Oh laptop, where are you?

At Least I Didn't Catch it on Fire

I cooked my first Thanksgiving turkey today! I realized during dinner that I should have taken a picture of the (perfectly browned) bird as proof, but I didn't.

Just know that it was beautiful.

A Little Advice

A little bit of advice to anyone who is asked to give a talk at church:

DON'T tell us the entire story of how you came to be standing at the pulpit. We don't want to know on which day of the week which bishopric member called to assign you a topic, how you pretended to not be home, or how you procrastinated and had to write the talk early Sunday morning. We especially do not want to hear any jokes about how much you don't want to be giving your talk right now.

1.) They're not funny.
2.) We don't care.

Learning a New Skill

I don't draw. Like, really, I don't draw. I took an art class in the 6th? 8th? grade, but other than that I draw only stick figures. I need a compass to get a decent circle, and a ruler unless I want my straight line to look like a sine wave. My sister is an absolutely AMAZING artist (I think she's as good as Audrey, and that's saying something!), but I certainly didn't inherit any artistic genes from her. And for all the time we spent together as kids (even sharing a bedroom most of my childhood), none of her talent rubbed off on me. I didn't get her singing voice either...*sigh*

But now I have to learn to draw, though I've been scared of it for years. I'm too much of a perfectionist to learn something as difficult as drawing - I don't like having to erase things and start over. I want it to be right the first time! But I'm in a lighting design class, and we're exploring the way light hits certain objects and where the shadows fall. In other words, value range. We've been drawing with charcoal - both black on white and white on black (I think the second is harder). I'm embarrassed to show my first class assignment, but here's the second one. I'm mostly pleased with it, and I should be - I spent 12 hours trying to get it right. I finally just had to say enough is enough! This wasn't even an officially graded assignment - I don't want to think about how long it will take me to do my final project!!!

A Better Win

On a brighter note, BYU beat UCLA 59-0 tonight! How fabulous. The Cougars played brilliantly; Max Hall was on point (en pointe? Audrey, help?)! Austin Collie caught an amazing 10 passes - and he was not open for a single one of those. Matched by Dennis Pitta and Harvey Unga, Collie scored 2 touchdowns. Backup RB Wayne Latu ran a 7th in, and Mitch Payne (brother of the fantastic Matt Payne) kicked a field goal. I couldn't have asked for a better game, especially after what happened last week. Go Cougars!!!


Ps. I did not say anything insulting about UCLA. Please take note of that.

Class

Perhaps it's because I went to BYU. Perhaps it's because my husband's family are devout Aggies. Or perhaps it's because I'm a decent human being. Whatever the reason, I think that exhibiting sportsmanship at sporting events - whether your team is winning or losing - is paramount.

I hate people that hate other people.

I went to watch the Maryland football team play California today, and if you're a Maryland fan it was a great game. I'm kind of a Maryland fan, and I enjoyed watching the Terps win. But I would have enjoyed it a lot more if it weren't for all the other Maryland fans who attended the game.

I was deeply disturbed by the classless attitude of the Terp fans, an attitude for which they are well-known and which they (unfortunately) are very proud of. They yelled insult after insult at the Cal players, coaches, fans, and anyone they thought might be slightly connected with the Blue-and-Gold. And this was more than the throwing around of profanity by Terp fans individually due to their flared-up emotions - this tasteless abuse was institutionalized. The chant recited after each score by every Maryland fan I could see was this: "Hey! You suck! (repeated 4 times) We're going to beat the **** (I heard multiple words inserted here, all of them terrible) out of you and you and you and you!" (Apparently Maryland thinks they can take on four teams at once. Boy would I love to see that game.) This absurd chant was accompanied by pointing fingers and rude gestures. "Hey you suck" t-shirts were quite popular among the student body, as were various shirts sporting vulgar sentences that included the "f" word (always naming another team).

Honestly, who does that? Have they no self-respect? How can they possibly think that those things are clever or funny? I'm highly concerned for the welfare of mankind.

I have so many cruel things I want to say about the crude and graceless Terrapins, but I'll refrain. I have class.

The Win

On BYU's win over the Washington Huskies, including the
controversial "Excessive Celebration" penalty: 9/6/2008.
Click here for the story.

Point #1:
Rule 9-2, Article 1(a)(2) says that "After a score or any other play, the player in possession immediately must return the ball to an official or leave it near the dead-ball spot." Obviously, this did not happen. Good call or bad call, that's the rule in the book - whether or not the ball was thrown "high into the air" or "behind his neck". Where the ball was thrown has nothing to do with it - notice that the official statement did not say "high into the air" but "into the air", meaning that Locker threw the ball at all instead of giving it to an official or setting it on the ground. That portion of the rule is not subjective.

Point #2:
The penalty really didn't matter, because the extra point was blocked, not missed. From 20- or from 35-yards, it was still blocked. In addition, BYU deserved that block as they deserved to win the whole game. The Cougars clearly were the better team, with more passing yards than the Huskies had total. Can anyone say, "Dennis Pitta is amazing"?

Point #3:
I don't really need to make it, because it's been said already and anyone who was even remotely paying attention should know. But for the sake of thoroughness I will: The 20-yard pass to Goodwin was only made possible by blatant Husky cheating - holding so obvious even I caught it. And that uncalled penalty was only one of many (and on a crucial play! If the fate of the game was changed by the refs, it was right there - the next down should have been 3rd and 29, not 1st and 10). Washington fans complaining about poor calling by the officials are absolutely correct.

It was HORRIBLE.

You've Got To Be Kidding Me

I've always been terrified of going to the dentist, and I'm not really sure why. I suppose everyone has their own irrational, paralyzing fear - and dentists are mine.

A few weeks ago, my teeth really started hurting. I didn't know why, but the pain got so bad it was giving me headaches and sore muscles in my neck. I decided to call a dentist and schedule an appointment (which also meant looking through my insurance policy to figure out what's covered and who I can go see, and I HATE dealing with insurance). I called a few people on the list, and the first dentist whose office answered the phone I made an appointment with. I don't want to give out his full name, so I'll refer to him as Dr. V. Davis. No no, scratch that, I'll call him Dr. Vincent D.

DON'T GO SEE HIM.

Friday at 2:45 I show up for my appointment, my teeth having mostly calmed down but still a little sensitive. I've spent all week mentally preparing myself, and all day not eating due to nerves. I arrive a little early, expecting to fill out new patient paperwork. The office is closed. Someone tells me they saw him leave not 10 minutes before that, so I think that perhaps he ran out but will be back for my 3:00 appointment. No luck. Scott and I wait for over an hour, with no sign of Dr. Vincent D. The answering machine message in his office gives his cell phone as an emergency number, but he's not answering that either. So we go home. Shortly afterward he calls me, has no idea who I am, and says that he didn't have anyone on his schedule so he went home early. I told him I scheduled an appointment with his receptionist, and he says that he just fired her because she wasn't doing her job and he's so sorry and can he call me back when he has his calendar in front of him and schedule me personally? Fine, I say.

And I wait. A full week goes by without hearing from him, so I call him back myself. At first he doesn't remember me, but then he does and we schedule an appointment for today, August 11th, after I return from my trip to Utah. Luckily by this point my teeth have stopped hurting, so I am no longer in desperate need of care. I'm willing to wait a little bit. Today arrives and I once again arrive early with Scott (who has come for much-needed emotional support). The office is open, which I take to be a good sign. But the dentist isn't in. The receptionist seems confused at my presence, because I'm not on the schedule, but I tell her that Dr. Vincent D. scheduled me personally. I fill out paperwork, and wait. Over half an hour goes by. The receptionist (who did NOT seem like she wanted to be there for have anything to do with patients) calls the dentist, who says that he had called everyone yesterday to cancel appointments for today because he had to take the day off. But I wasn't on his list of appointments. This time he has no one to blame but himself, and all he can say is, "Sorry about that."

The name of his practice is "Gentle Dental Care". Apparently he's so gentle he never even touches your teeth. I didn't feel a thing.