One of my best friends is getting married in a little over a year, and I am the lucky maid of honor. I admit, it is kind of fun. I get to pour over wedding magazines, check out bridesmaid’s dresses, plan an engagement party, and have an excuse to do research on various wedding dresses, venues, and honeymoon destinations. Honeymoon destinations my favorite thing to read about. Granted, my friend has not asked for my help in planning her honeymoon, and I do not have any intention of helping her. I just like reading about all the exotic places to go, where the best resorts are, and what kind of food a visitor should definitely try.
I am fascinated with travel. If you were to ask me where I want to go on vacation, I would probably start with a reasonable list, but then I’d probably get carried away and come up with a list including almost every place ever in the entire world. Heck – Who am I kidding? – I’d love to visit the moon!
What I should really do is subscribe to a travel magazine. That way, I could continue to read about awesome destinations and plan dozens of trips and vacations even after my friends’ wedding when I can’t really be seen carrying around wedding magazines anymore. Well, not in public anyway. The thing is, I’m afraid if I read these travel magazines religiously and start to really plan out these trips on paper, I may get a little carried away. Sure, right now I can list about 100 different places I would like to go, including a few activities I would like to partake in at each destination, but if I actually really plan out details, then I’ll really really really want to go.
Anyhow, that’s my dilemma on the travel situation. I would like to go everywhere and do everything, but due to a lack of funds, I do not have the luxury to travel when and where I wish. Ah well. Someday when I am a millionaire from teaching elementary ESL, I’ll retire at age 35 and spend the rest of my life have one big world adventure.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!
I make myself laugh. At least I know that because travelling is a priority for me, I will make the time and effort and save the money to make as many of my dreams come true as possible. Lucky for me, my significant other loves to travel as well, so if we ever end up permanently and legally stuck together, I know he’ll not only come with me, but encourage me to do whatever and go wherever I want.
But back to the original issue at hand. My friend used to have the wedding colors of navy blue and cream with green accents, but because she has picked a venue with a lot of browns and yellows in it, she has decided we will clash. Now she is considering dressing us bridesmaids in goldenrod, except she refuses to call it goldenrod. She describes it as exactly the same color as goldenrod, but don’t call it that because that sounds yucky. Ah well. My other best friend is beside herself. As Minnesotans, we are appropriately pale from lack of sun, even in the summer. She is afraid that the goldenrod dress will not only 1. Be hard to find, 2. Never be able to be worn again, but 3. Will make her (and us other two) look sallow and sickly. Now I like me some nice yellow, but I agree that this color will be harder to find on our own, especially since we need to match each other color-wise, and I am not going to be able to get as much use out of a goldenrod dress as a navy one. Watching my one friend try to convince the other friend that if she wants navy, she should go with navy because it’ll look just fine is pretty funny.
She’s the bride, and I’ll wear the color she picks out, but I am wishing and hoping that she goes back to navy. Cross your fingers folks.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Topaz the Hungry Horse
So I went to New Mexico with my family to visit some family. Of course I only went for the weekend since apparently graduate students do not get spring break, but you can bet my family will be sorry to hear about all the damp, cold, drizzley weather they have been missing out on here in balmy MN.
One of the highlights of the trip was when my dad, my sister and I went horseback riding along the banks of the Rio Grande outside of Albuquerque. My sister had a horse named Spot. Spot was named, I can only assume, for his dozens and dozens of little brown spots. Spot was a smaller horse that knew the trail rather well. He did not run, he responded to my sisters confident, if perhaps misleading, directions, and he kept pace with the group. My sister had a wonderful time and claimed that Spot was the most beautiful horse ever.
My father rode a horse named Beauty. Beauty was mostly black but had a little bit of auburn color around her legs. Ernesto claimed she was gaited. I don’t even know what that means, but my father claims that Ernesto was mistaken. A woman who has been taking private horse riding lessons also went on the tour with us, and she was rather jealous that my father got to ride Beauty. This woman had to ride Cotton Candy, a rather large horse that I could not find a problem with. Then again, I know nothing about horses. The point is, my father rode the much coveted and well behaved Beauty.
I got to ride a blonde colored horse named Topaz. I had no trouble mounting Topaz, and I thought this was a rather good start. When Donald, one of our guides, asked if I had ridden much, I said only a few times, and not since I was younger. He gave me a worried look, then he said I shouldn’t have a problem. Donald led Topaz, with me astride, into the little corral where we could get used to being on a saddle and getting along with our horses. For the first two minutes, I thought I was doing rather well. I directed Topaz to the right, and he went to the right. Then, I directed Topaz around a barrel, and he went around the barrel, then continued straight for a pile of grass. This is where Topaz and I stayed for the rest of the “warm up” ride. Topaz was very hungry – VERY hungry. I let him get a few mouthfuls in, then I tried to do what Donald and Ernesto had told me. I pulled up on the reigns, directed him to the left, tapped his sides with my heels and said, “C’mon Topaz!”
Topaz shook his head, then reached down to get another mouthful of grass. We probably continued this activity for ten or fifteen minutes. Other horses would come and get a mouthful, then move on. Other riders shook their head at me and laughed as I bounced up and down, trying to get Topaz to move. “C’mon Topaz! Pretty horse! Let’s go!” At one point Topaz turn his head around, looked at me, and wiped his nose on my pants before going back to eating. Still, I was convinced we could make this work.
When it was time to go out on the trail, all the other horses obediently filed out of the corral and headed out. Topaz took one look at them and went back to eating. Ernesto had to come over and give me a hand, and even then, Topaz was extremely reluctant to leave. “Don’t worry,” Donald told me, “He’s a little slow here at the ranch, but he gets going on the trail.”
That was a lie.
Topaz stopped every chance he got to eat. Whenever my dad brought Beauty back to visit me, he laughed because Topaz would greet them with a mouthful of something. The scariest part of the ride was when, while going down a steep hill, Topaz bent down to get a bite. As per Katie, the third guide’s instructions, I had tightened the reins a little bit, so when Topaz bent way way down to eat, I just about slid right over his head and down the hill.
Anyway, Topaz liked to stop and eat, but he did not like to be far from the group, this meant we did a lot of unsolicited trotting. Sometimes, I’d give him a nudge to get going and catch up, but other times, he would run until his face was right in some other horses behind, and we’d stay there for a while until I either managed to steer him around or he got the munchies again. Maybe Topaz smokes pot before every trail ride, and that's why he needs to snack so much.
I guess Topaz is notorious for his case of the munchies, because the guide in front came back at one point when Topaz was behaving and asked if we had stopped for snacks a lot. When I replied that yes we had, he just laughed and said something to the effect of “Topaz likes to eat!”
Anway, the scenery was beautiful, and I took some pictures that I’ll probably post some of later. If you see a south-western-y photo, it was probably from Albuquerque. I had a good time, and it was kind of funny. The only thing is, my butt kind of hurts now.
One of the highlights of the trip was when my dad, my sister and I went horseback riding along the banks of the Rio Grande outside of Albuquerque. My sister had a horse named Spot. Spot was named, I can only assume, for his dozens and dozens of little brown spots. Spot was a smaller horse that knew the trail rather well. He did not run, he responded to my sisters confident, if perhaps misleading, directions, and he kept pace with the group. My sister had a wonderful time and claimed that Spot was the most beautiful horse ever.
My father rode a horse named Beauty. Beauty was mostly black but had a little bit of auburn color around her legs. Ernesto claimed she was gaited. I don’t even know what that means, but my father claims that Ernesto was mistaken. A woman who has been taking private horse riding lessons also went on the tour with us, and she was rather jealous that my father got to ride Beauty. This woman had to ride Cotton Candy, a rather large horse that I could not find a problem with. Then again, I know nothing about horses. The point is, my father rode the much coveted and well behaved Beauty.
I got to ride a blonde colored horse named Topaz. I had no trouble mounting Topaz, and I thought this was a rather good start. When Donald, one of our guides, asked if I had ridden much, I said only a few times, and not since I was younger. He gave me a worried look, then he said I shouldn’t have a problem. Donald led Topaz, with me astride, into the little corral where we could get used to being on a saddle and getting along with our horses. For the first two minutes, I thought I was doing rather well. I directed Topaz to the right, and he went to the right. Then, I directed Topaz around a barrel, and he went around the barrel, then continued straight for a pile of grass. This is where Topaz and I stayed for the rest of the “warm up” ride. Topaz was very hungry – VERY hungry. I let him get a few mouthfuls in, then I tried to do what Donald and Ernesto had told me. I pulled up on the reigns, directed him to the left, tapped his sides with my heels and said, “C’mon Topaz!”
Topaz shook his head, then reached down to get another mouthful of grass. We probably continued this activity for ten or fifteen minutes. Other horses would come and get a mouthful, then move on. Other riders shook their head at me and laughed as I bounced up and down, trying to get Topaz to move. “C’mon Topaz! Pretty horse! Let’s go!” At one point Topaz turn his head around, looked at me, and wiped his nose on my pants before going back to eating. Still, I was convinced we could make this work.
When it was time to go out on the trail, all the other horses obediently filed out of the corral and headed out. Topaz took one look at them and went back to eating. Ernesto had to come over and give me a hand, and even then, Topaz was extremely reluctant to leave. “Don’t worry,” Donald told me, “He’s a little slow here at the ranch, but he gets going on the trail.”
That was a lie.
Topaz stopped every chance he got to eat. Whenever my dad brought Beauty back to visit me, he laughed because Topaz would greet them with a mouthful of something. The scariest part of the ride was when, while going down a steep hill, Topaz bent down to get a bite. As per Katie, the third guide’s instructions, I had tightened the reins a little bit, so when Topaz bent way way down to eat, I just about slid right over his head and down the hill.
Anyway, Topaz liked to stop and eat, but he did not like to be far from the group, this meant we did a lot of unsolicited trotting. Sometimes, I’d give him a nudge to get going and catch up, but other times, he would run until his face was right in some other horses behind, and we’d stay there for a while until I either managed to steer him around or he got the munchies again. Maybe Topaz smokes pot before every trail ride, and that's why he needs to snack so much.
I guess Topaz is notorious for his case of the munchies, because the guide in front came back at one point when Topaz was behaving and asked if we had stopped for snacks a lot. When I replied that yes we had, he just laughed and said something to the effect of “Topaz likes to eat!”
Anway, the scenery was beautiful, and I took some pictures that I’ll probably post some of later. If you see a south-western-y photo, it was probably from Albuquerque. I had a good time, and it was kind of funny. The only thing is, my butt kind of hurts now.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
My Klassy Life
It has been a week of theatre theatre theatre for me, and it is only Wednesday! Who knew I would lead such a cultured life? Actually, I spend most of my time reading text books about how teachers better like working with kids and not everyone comes from a "Leave it to Beaver" family, so when I become a teacher I better be understanding. When I'm not studying, I manage to fit in a lot of really terrible television. For a while, I watched one of those platinum wedding planning shows almost every night before bed. Some of those people spend about $10,000 dollars on their lighting alone! What's with that?
Anyway, back to the not so embarrassing part of my life, I saw two plays this week. On Sunday, my little sister and I went out to the Illusion theatre in Minneapolis to see The Secret Garden. Luckily, it was a musical. I won't lie. I had no idea that there was a musical version of this book much beloved from my childhood. The reason I went to go see this production was that one of my good friends is in it. He plays the spirit of dead Lt. Shaw. I know what you're thinking, because I was thinking it too: Wait! I don't remember any real ghosts in the book! But, let me assure you, it worked. The spirits managed to add some lovely harmonies as well as narrate the story. Between the delight of going into the city for a special event, seeing my friend perform, and the pretty darn good music (my favorite was "Lily's Eyes"), I would highly recommend the show. It is still playing this upcoming weekend (March 19-22), so if you need some entertainment on a bit classier side, go and enjoy. It really isn't more than going to the movies nowadays.
Tuesday night, the same friend I went to see in The Secret Garden got a really good deal on some tickets at the Guthrie Theatre. With over half-priced tickets in hand, we went into the thrust theatre to see Shakespeare's The Two Gentlemen of Verona. The play was reset in the 1950's and was supposed to be like a live tv show. At the beginning of the play, the director asked us to please turn off our two-way radios or any other dookickeys we had brought along. The play was interspersed with rock and roll musical numbers that had a little to do with the play....usually someone's name was in it, like Julia's or Sylvia's.
There were cameras on the set, too, and a giant screen on each side of the stage. The screens were supposed to be what the "audience at home" was seeing, and it even played old commercials between acts. I liked that the screens made it easier to see the faces of the actors turned away from me (since we were seated to the left of the thrust stage), but I agree with my friend that it got distracting at times. The experience was a little over 3 hours, which is really REALLY long, but I'll have you know, I didn't even realize it was 11pm until we had pulled out of the parking garage.
To top it all off, I go to school, which is kind of like a theatrical production. It makes you laugh, cry, clench your fists in frustration, and the characters are outrageous, yet so, so real.
Anyway, back to the not so embarrassing part of my life, I saw two plays this week. On Sunday, my little sister and I went out to the Illusion theatre in Minneapolis to see The Secret Garden. Luckily, it was a musical. I won't lie. I had no idea that there was a musical version of this book much beloved from my childhood. The reason I went to go see this production was that one of my good friends is in it. He plays the spirit of dead Lt. Shaw. I know what you're thinking, because I was thinking it too: Wait! I don't remember any real ghosts in the book! But, let me assure you, it worked. The spirits managed to add some lovely harmonies as well as narrate the story. Between the delight of going into the city for a special event, seeing my friend perform, and the pretty darn good music (my favorite was "Lily's Eyes"), I would highly recommend the show. It is still playing this upcoming weekend (March 19-22), so if you need some entertainment on a bit classier side, go and enjoy. It really isn't more than going to the movies nowadays.
Tuesday night, the same friend I went to see in The Secret Garden got a really good deal on some tickets at the Guthrie Theatre. With over half-priced tickets in hand, we went into the thrust theatre to see Shakespeare's The Two Gentlemen of Verona. The play was reset in the 1950's and was supposed to be like a live tv show. At the beginning of the play, the director asked us to please turn off our two-way radios or any other dookickeys we had brought along. The play was interspersed with rock and roll musical numbers that had a little to do with the play....usually someone's name was in it, like Julia's or Sylvia's.
There were cameras on the set, too, and a giant screen on each side of the stage. The screens were supposed to be what the "audience at home" was seeing, and it even played old commercials between acts. I liked that the screens made it easier to see the faces of the actors turned away from me (since we were seated to the left of the thrust stage), but I agree with my friend that it got distracting at times. The experience was a little over 3 hours, which is really REALLY long, but I'll have you know, I didn't even realize it was 11pm until we had pulled out of the parking garage.
To top it all off, I go to school, which is kind of like a theatrical production. It makes you laugh, cry, clench your fists in frustration, and the characters are outrageous, yet so, so real.
Monday, March 2, 2009
The Beginning of Life: Part 3
So I've successfully made the move from Montreal back to the Twin Cities. I'm using the term "successfully" pretty loosely, but I'm ok with that right now. As far as I know, everything made it back and in one piece, but I have not even really begun to unpack. Upon returning to my parents' home, I was directed to move to the music room in the basement. My childhood bedroom is being turned into a closet and an office for my father, and the rest of the remodelling consists of adding a new bedroom for my parents. This means eventually I will get my parents' current bedroom, which is very nice. In the meantime, however, I will continue living in the basement with my stuff still in suitcases and boxes, hoping every day is the day I will get my own workspace.
I need the workspace, you see, because I am back in school. I am enrolled in the MAT program at Hamline University in St. Paul, working towards my licensure to become an ESL teacher. I am finding a lot of the education classes tedious and patronizing. It is only 1 month in, and I am already hating the word "reflect". Everything we do or say or write or watch has to be a reflection. How did that movie make me feel and why? What makes a good teacher and how does a good teacher make me feel? As one of my friends pointed out, I am a midwesterner! I do not share my feelings openly with strangers. The thing is, I am doing it, albeit resentfully.
Lucky for me, I have made a few friends who share my feelings (haha!) towards a certain class, and I have someone who understands and deals with my sarcasm. I feel confident that if something ridiculous or patronizing is going on, if I cannot think of a clever or snide remark, one of them will make one for me. I was getting a little snarky, however, so for lent I have decided to be more positive towards a certain class and more tolerant of some of my classmates, especially those who never seem to know what is going on, yet talk and talk and talk.
My tea drinking has not decreased, but my coffee drinking has increased. The Internet told me that studies have shown that young women who drink 3 cups of tea each day pretty significantly reduce their risks of a few cancers, so I feel good about this. Due to my increased coffee intake, I am trying to stick to the decaffeinated teas including Mint and Lady Gray. My curly-headed former roommate turned me on the the latter, and when I brought a box home, my father has decided that he, too, really enjoys it. He said it is one of his favorite teas now, which is amusing to me. As for the coffee, I need to stay awake during those long and drawn-out tedious "discussions" in my evening courses, and I really prefer to stay alert and awake on the drive home, as well.
My boyfriend has adjusted well to his new life in Madison, and I am very proud of him. Just last weekend I went out to visit him for his company's 30th anniversary party, and it was really nice to put faces to names. We talk to each other on the phone for a little bit everyday, and I've heard so much about these people. It was too bad that none of them really looked the way I expected, but I think I can get over it.
The washing machine is calling me now, with its incessant beeping.
In case you're wondering, Life: Part 1 would be baby - 12th grade and Life: Part 2 would be University life at McGill. Both of those parts went rather well, I think, so let's all cross our fingers for Life: Part 3.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)