Hola from P-town everyone!!
After taking quite the break from writing... well anything, I am back with a vengeance. That's probably because I have 3 papers due next week (but that's a minor detail). Since I'm writing so much, I thought I should renew my commitment to this blog and to its purpose: describing the life of a BYU guard girl. And what better way to do that than recap the most infamous week in any colorguard season: Band Camp.
This was BYU Band Camp 2.0. I was stronger, I was wiser, I was going to learn from my rookie mistakes from last year. And I think I did, but I'm getting ahead of myself. So the colorguard starts Band Camp a day earlier than the rest of the band. Thus, on Saturday, August 20th, I reluctantly parted with my fluffy hotel bed (since I was homeless) and headed over to the Lavell Edwards Stadium. It was great to reconnect with old buddies from last year such as my fellow sophomores Rachel and Meghan and also fun to meet the new girls to the guard. Together, the 2011 BYU colorguard learned proper technique for basics and learned choreography for our first show. Then, in colorguard tradition, we hiked the Y. Last year, the Y hike was brutal, I was hot, I was tired, and those switchbacks were malicious. But this year was totally different. For starters, it was much cooler since a storm had just barely passed it hours before. Second, I think I was just in better shape (thank you Zumba!). And third, we had entertainment. At every switchback, a girl would have to tell a "boy story". What was my "boy story" you ask? The funny and kind of gross story of my first kiss. Ask me about it sometime. At the Y, Ashlee, our coach, introduced the colorguard theme for this year: Charity. What a great theme! I am really excited.
After such a hike, we were rewarded with one day off, which was WAY too short. Monday arrived quickly and Band Camp officially began. We started in the band hall, where our director, Brother Mac, gave us a pep talk. Then we headed to the parking lot to learn marching basics. The afternoon was spent learning more choreography. And thus began the rhythm of Band Camp: learning choreography, learning drill, repeat. But there were a few highlights.
First, the heat. After having a frigid year, Utah decided to heat up for band camp. In the afternoon, we were practicing in hundred degree or above weather. It was brutal. But I was prepared. Last year, Band Camp turned me into some kind of lobster, I was determined to never let that happen again. So I showed up to Band camp loaded with three kinds of sunscreen: one for my body, one for my face, and one for my lips. And don't forget about water. I brought a large cooler and filled it with ice and water and Gatorade and fruit. It was a life saver during band camp, the envy of all the other guardlings.
Second, the band social. Once again, the band was split into birth months and of course, June won the first round, meaning we got to partake of the delicious Brick Oven pasta first. We feasted like kings and then began to mingle. Rachel and I participated in giant Twister, which was way fun. We totally dominated. Colorguard always dominates. Then, Rachel taught me and a few drummers how to play Swedish Twister, which is just as fun, maybe even better, than giant Twister. After flirting with band boys, I left to go spend my night off with my pal Brad.
Third, BOND-A-THON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
A ritual so amazing and so spectacular that I cannot even mention it in such an unworthy medium. All I will say is that moving food down your face without your hands is quite difficult. And I have mad drummer skills. Ha!
So after a week of laughter, sore muscles, fatigue and "boy stories", Band Camp 2011 came to an end. I survived the week with only getting a sunburn on my hairline and my neck (a major improvement from last year). I better understand proper technique. But best of all, I made wonderful friends whom I am excited to share this upcoming season with.
7/14/11
Day 3- Jet Lag
This is the hit song right now in France and it about something near and dear to my heart. Jet lag. This happens to take place at Charles De Gaulle Airport in Paris where I arrived a few days ago. Enjoy!!
Day 3- KABOOM!!
One of the best things about staying with a frenchie in France is that you get to see how normal, everyday French people live. It's an immersion into their culture. I like to think of it as "authentic" traveling. Not that I have anything against tourist destinations and big cities. I definitely can't say I didn't love London or Cancun, but when you are in those places, you have sort of a cushion. A "cloud nine" phenonmenon.
Anywho, because I was staying with Coralie, she took me to the French countryside to see her grandmother, who lives in a village outside of Bourg-en-Bresse in the province of Rhone-Alpes. Here I could directly examine and experience the simplistic, quiet way of French country life?
Haha. Think again.
After eating a spectacular french lunch with Coralie's mami and cousins, I settled down in my room to take a quick nap to help with my jet lag. I am almost asleep when, all of a sudden, a siren goes off, a siren that sounds a lot like a tornado warning. Out of all the nasty natural disasters there are in this world, a tornado scares me the most. So I just laid and quietly hoped that I wasn't about to face one of my biggest fears in a foreign country without my mommy. But Coralie calmed my fears by coming in and telling me that the siren was a signal to the volunteer firemen that there was a fire. In the countryside, they do not have an institutionalized firehouse with professional firemen and such. They depend on volunteers to help fight any fires. When I was told that it was only a fire, I relaxed. I knew about fires. I live in Arizona, I see fires all the time. No biggie. So I curled back up and drifted off to sleep. But less than 5 minutes later...
KABOOM!!
I sat up and watched as Coralie and her cousins charged pass my window going to see what happened. But I already knew, something exploded. Eventually, Coralie bursted into my room and said, "You have to see this" so I followed her to the front yard where immediately I saw black smoke billowing into the sky. We ran back into the house to get to the backyard, where we saw that the smoke was coming from the neighbors shed. All of the cousins and me were all excited, everyone was asking me if I was scared and now thought that France was a dangerous place (the answer: definitely not). Neighbors and other family members gathered around to watch the spectacle. Eventually the firefighters arrived and quenched the fire with long hoses spewing out water.
So much for peace and quiet, but it will be an experience I will remember for years to come.
Anywho, because I was staying with Coralie, she took me to the French countryside to see her grandmother, who lives in a village outside of Bourg-en-Bresse in the province of Rhone-Alpes. Here I could directly examine and experience the simplistic, quiet way of French country life?
Haha. Think again.
After eating a spectacular french lunch with Coralie's mami and cousins, I settled down in my room to take a quick nap to help with my jet lag. I am almost asleep when, all of a sudden, a siren goes off, a siren that sounds a lot like a tornado warning. Out of all the nasty natural disasters there are in this world, a tornado scares me the most. So I just laid and quietly hoped that I wasn't about to face one of my biggest fears in a foreign country without my mommy. But Coralie calmed my fears by coming in and telling me that the siren was a signal to the volunteer firemen that there was a fire. In the countryside, they do not have an institutionalized firehouse with professional firemen and such. They depend on volunteers to help fight any fires. When I was told that it was only a fire, I relaxed. I knew about fires. I live in Arizona, I see fires all the time. No biggie. So I curled back up and drifted off to sleep. But less than 5 minutes later...
KABOOM!!
I sat up and watched as Coralie and her cousins charged pass my window going to see what happened. But I already knew, something exploded. Eventually, Coralie bursted into my room and said, "You have to see this" so I followed her to the front yard where immediately I saw black smoke billowing into the sky. We ran back into the house to get to the backyard, where we saw that the smoke was coming from the neighbors shed. All of the cousins and me were all excited, everyone was asking me if I was scared and now thought that France was a dangerous place (the answer: definitely not). Neighbors and other family members gathered around to watch the spectacle. Eventually the firefighters arrived and quenched the fire with long hoses spewing out water.
So much for peace and quiet, but it will be an experience I will remember for years to come.
7/9/11
Day 2- Firsts
- First Night in France
- I slept well considering the jet lag and the fact that the train goes directly behind Coralie's house. No joke. Every 10 to 15 minutes, a train comes speeding by except from midnight to 3AM. C'est vrai!
- First French Breakfast
- I had pain au chocolat and some baguette with butter and redcurrant jam. We actually had to grab the gigantic French-English Dictionary to figure out it was redcurrant jam.
- First Time seeing Coralie's school
- First sight of nudity in France
- This is not America
- First Time seeing a vineyard
Day 2- What are you saying?
French is still super SUPER difficult. It is so intimidating to be around a bunch of people speaking at you in another language that you thought you knew but really you knew about tourist french. And it's tough when most of them know only a tiny bit of English to help bridge the gap. Coralie tells me it is really crazy and scary the first few days but then you start to understand the speech patterns and vocabulary better. I hope that moment comes soon, I miss English.
Not knowing the language makes things sort of awkward. For example, Coralie invited her friend Ysaline (Izz-a-leen) and her boyfriend to lunch to have crepes. They were both really nice, but I felt like a warm body at lunch because I couldn't understand their french. They would occasionally pause to fill me in on the conversation but it really wasn't the same you know? So as you can guess, I really REALLY missed English at that point.
But hopefully it gets better. Hopefully.
Not knowing the language makes things sort of awkward. For example, Coralie invited her friend Ysaline (Izz-a-leen) and her boyfriend to lunch to have crepes. They were both really nice, but I felt like a warm body at lunch because I couldn't understand their french. They would occasionally pause to fill me in on the conversation but it really wasn't the same you know? So as you can guess, I really REALLY missed English at that point.
But hopefully it gets better. Hopefully.
7/6/11
Day 1- Francais est difficil
I am still up although I only had 5 hours of sleep the night before.
Customs was easy and painfree. I never had to fill out a form. What! That's nice. And I get a stamp on my passport. YAY!!!
Baggage claim was more disconcerting because for the first 10 minutes, there was only myself and 3 other families from the plane waiting at the corusel. I started to freak, thinking that I was at the wrong spot and feeling absolutely stupid. But, at last, more people joined us and the baggage was delivered.
So with my suitcase lugging behind me, I left customs. But Coralie was not there. No biggie, I thought, she is probably a little bit late. So I waited, and waited... and waited. No Coralie. Maybe I was in the wrong spot. But if that were true, where should I go? I don't have a phone or a computer; maybe this no electronics idea wasn't such a good idea. While I waited, I meant this cute little girl who belonged to the People to People foundation, a special program by a dead president or something. They travel the world, spreading good vibes about America. She took a picture of my outfit. Later, she and her friend joined me at a table where we talked about traveling and London. She gave me a lecture on how I should never smoke. Duly noted. I actually think they are here to advocate against smoking. Not a bad idea. Many people smoke here. No joke. Finally, Coralie found me.
After getting lost in the airportn, we found Corali's dad and started the 2 and a half hour ride to Dijon. We took a detour through Paris and I had my first glimpse at the famous Eiffel Tower. Honestly, I was more impressed by the hot air balloon floating by it. But it cemented the fact that, indeed, I am in France.
The French countryside is gorgeous. Napolean called Burgundy the Cote D'Or or Gold Coast. I totally agree. It is covered with golden fields with the occasional forest or sunflower field. Ancient houses are situated next to modern, but provincial homes. Churches are nestled in the center of hamlets while a castle stands majestically on top of a hill.
And Dijon is magical too. Tight streets with the craziest traffic I've ever seen. Boys texting while riding motorbikes. Beautiful vistas of the valley below. I could spend all day taking pictures.
Plombieres-les-Dijon has a dazzling church and old stone buildings. Coralie's house is adorable. I love her room. There is a beautiful lake by her house, where we walked her dog and witnessed the french exercise. We also went to the super market.
Dinner was Quiche Lorraine, a salad of tomatoes, onions and olives, and flan for dessert.
Only downside: it stinks to not be fluent in French. Coralie's parents do not know a lot of English so it is difficult to communicate sometimes. I am pretty intimidated. Please tell me it gets better soon.
Customs was easy and painfree. I never had to fill out a form. What! That's nice. And I get a stamp on my passport. YAY!!!
Baggage claim was more disconcerting because for the first 10 minutes, there was only myself and 3 other families from the plane waiting at the corusel. I started to freak, thinking that I was at the wrong spot and feeling absolutely stupid. But, at last, more people joined us and the baggage was delivered.
So with my suitcase lugging behind me, I left customs. But Coralie was not there. No biggie, I thought, she is probably a little bit late. So I waited, and waited... and waited. No Coralie. Maybe I was in the wrong spot. But if that were true, where should I go? I don't have a phone or a computer; maybe this no electronics idea wasn't such a good idea. While I waited, I meant this cute little girl who belonged to the People to People foundation, a special program by a dead president or something. They travel the world, spreading good vibes about America. She took a picture of my outfit. Later, she and her friend joined me at a table where we talked about traveling and London. She gave me a lecture on how I should never smoke. Duly noted. I actually think they are here to advocate against smoking. Not a bad idea. Many people smoke here. No joke. Finally, Coralie found me.
After getting lost in the airportn, we found Corali's dad and started the 2 and a half hour ride to Dijon. We took a detour through Paris and I had my first glimpse at the famous Eiffel Tower. Honestly, I was more impressed by the hot air balloon floating by it. But it cemented the fact that, indeed, I am in France.
The French countryside is gorgeous. Napolean called Burgundy the Cote D'Or or Gold Coast. I totally agree. It is covered with golden fields with the occasional forest or sunflower field. Ancient houses are situated next to modern, but provincial homes. Churches are nestled in the center of hamlets while a castle stands majestically on top of a hill.
And Dijon is magical too. Tight streets with the craziest traffic I've ever seen. Boys texting while riding motorbikes. Beautiful vistas of the valley below. I could spend all day taking pictures.
Plombieres-les-Dijon has a dazzling church and old stone buildings. Coralie's house is adorable. I love her room. There is a beautiful lake by her house, where we walked her dog and witnessed the french exercise. We also went to the super market.
Dinner was Quiche Lorraine, a salad of tomatoes, onions and olives, and flan for dessert.
Only downside: it stinks to not be fluent in French. Coralie's parents do not know a lot of English so it is difficult to communicate sometimes. I am pretty intimidated. Please tell me it gets better soon.
Le Transition
It's 2 AM in the morning in Utah, but 9 AM in France. The flight attendents just served breakfast of an egg sandwich, a banana, and orange juice. I ate half the banana and sipped the OJ and ignored the egg sandwich.
It's nice to finally be on the plane.
I have been feeling nervous and insecure most of yesterday. All my insecurities about this trip seemed to heighten as I sat in the terminal, waiting to board my flight. Around me were french families speaking french or spanish so rapidly I couldn't get my head around it. That really enhanced my worries. But once I was on the plane I felt better. I had the attitude of Well I can't turn back now, so I could only look ahead. Also, I had a 2 seats to myself which was fabulous!! Especially when it was time to sleep.
I was disapointed with the plane. When I flew Delta last year to NYC, I had a personal tv screen so I could play games and watch movies that I wanted to watch. So I figured it would be the same on this flight. Nope. TVs were set up above the aisles like normal planes. I was bummed. I had banked on playing the super fun trivia game and beating everyone like I did when I went to NY. Oh well.
I am flying over England right now!! I can see the beautiful country I love from my window. I can even see the town of Brighton, how cool is that?
I slept like 5 hours on the plane. Being able to lay out on the seats was critical. It was a spmewhat comfortable position, better than trying to sleep sitting up. I also took a sleeping pill which forced me to continue sleeping and go in and out of sleep.
Now I am flying over France. Super crazy because I am flying over a country I have never seen before. What I've noticed about both France and England is how cultivated the land is. France, so far, looks pastoral. I cannot believe I will be in Paris in 10 minutes! I accomplished my goal of seeing France!!
It's nice to finally be on the plane.
I have been feeling nervous and insecure most of yesterday. All my insecurities about this trip seemed to heighten as I sat in the terminal, waiting to board my flight. Around me were french families speaking french or spanish so rapidly I couldn't get my head around it. That really enhanced my worries. But once I was on the plane I felt better. I had the attitude of Well I can't turn back now, so I could only look ahead. Also, I had a 2 seats to myself which was fabulous!! Especially when it was time to sleep.
I was disapointed with the plane. When I flew Delta last year to NYC, I had a personal tv screen so I could play games and watch movies that I wanted to watch. So I figured it would be the same on this flight. Nope. TVs were set up above the aisles like normal planes. I was bummed. I had banked on playing the super fun trivia game and beating everyone like I did when I went to NY. Oh well.
I am flying over England right now!! I can see the beautiful country I love from my window. I can even see the town of Brighton, how cool is that?
I slept like 5 hours on the plane. Being able to lay out on the seats was critical. It was a spmewhat comfortable position, better than trying to sleep sitting up. I also took a sleeping pill which forced me to continue sleeping and go in and out of sleep.
Now I am flying over France. Super crazy because I am flying over a country I have never seen before. What I've noticed about both France and England is how cultivated the land is. France, so far, looks pastoral. I cannot believe I will be in Paris in 10 minutes! I accomplished my goal of seeing France!!
7/4/11
Bon Voyage!!!
Happy Fourth of July everybody!!! I hope you are having a spectacular, patriotic day.
After more than a year of planning and saving and reading travel blogs, I am finally embarking on a trip to France to see my favorite frenchie, Coralie. For those who don't know, Coralie was an exchange student at Mountain View my senior year. I only met her once fall semester at Homecoming because she was the date of one of my good guy friends, Tyler McKinion. It was a fleeting introduction; Coralie didn't remember me and I remembered her as the French exchange student. It was unlikely that we would ever really get to know each other. But Coralie decided to join Model UN, an organization I was participating in. Our friendship finally budded when I took her on a shopping spree to find her a suit for a Model UN conference. We realized each other's love for books and ever since then we have been buddies.
I'm excited for this trip because my senior year, Coralie was learning and experiencing America first-hand. Now it's my turn. Unfortunately, I am only staying in France for two weeks, so I won't get a full immersion, but I want to get the most I can out of it. I have no idea what to expect, but I know Coralie will take good care of me. And hopefully I won't get lost on the subway system (long story).
So here is the agenda. I am first going to Coralie's hometown Dijon, home to delicious mustard and yes, escargot. Then we are going to her grandmother's for a taste of the French countryside and some traditional food. For the last four days, we are jetting to Paris to get a glimpse of the City of Lights.
So stay tuned as I plan to write an entry for everyday I spend in France. Read about beautiful vistas, scrumptious food, and embarrassing moments as I try to use my beginner's French. It's an adventure I don't want you to miss.
After more than a year of planning and saving and reading travel blogs, I am finally embarking on a trip to France to see my favorite frenchie, Coralie. For those who don't know, Coralie was an exchange student at Mountain View my senior year. I only met her once fall semester at Homecoming because she was the date of one of my good guy friends, Tyler McKinion. It was a fleeting introduction; Coralie didn't remember me and I remembered her as the French exchange student. It was unlikely that we would ever really get to know each other. But Coralie decided to join Model UN, an organization I was participating in. Our friendship finally budded when I took her on a shopping spree to find her a suit for a Model UN conference. We realized each other's love for books and ever since then we have been buddies.
I'm excited for this trip because my senior year, Coralie was learning and experiencing America first-hand. Now it's my turn. Unfortunately, I am only staying in France for two weeks, so I won't get a full immersion, but I want to get the most I can out of it. I have no idea what to expect, but I know Coralie will take good care of me. And hopefully I won't get lost on the subway system (long story).
So here is the agenda. I am first going to Coralie's hometown Dijon, home to delicious mustard and yes, escargot. Then we are going to her grandmother's for a taste of the French countryside and some traditional food. For the last four days, we are jetting to Paris to get a glimpse of the City of Lights.
So stay tuned as I plan to write an entry for everyday I spend in France. Read about beautiful vistas, scrumptious food, and embarrassing moments as I try to use my beginner's French. It's an adventure I don't want you to miss.
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| Coralie Reynaud, the coolest Frenchie ever! |
7/1/11
Jimmer, Tucanos, and Unicorns
My father served a two year mission for the Church of Jesus Christ eons ago in Sao Paulo, Brazil. So as I have grown up, I have been exposed to many instances of Brazilian culture. One of my favorites is, of course, the food. Over the years, the family has been to some pretty spectacular Brazilian restaurants and made some delicious black beans and rice and fried plantains in our home.
In good old Utah, there are a few Brazilian restaurants, one of them is Tucanos. It is a relatively cheap churrascaria- an all-you-can-eat restaurant specializing in meats. Waiters come to your table with giant sticks of fresh meat like top sirloin or bacon-wrapped turkey and carved you a slice with a giant, menacing knife. It's a pretty cool experience. The nice thing about Tucanos is their Birthday club. A free meal anytime during the month of your birthday. It's pretty sweet. So I took my Brazilian-cuisine-obsessed family to Tucanos today for a meat-ilicious lunch.
The food was pretty good, especially for the price, but the bell-ringer was one of the waiters. I personally love friendly personable waiters and this guy definitely had all of that and then some. First off, he looked like Jimmer. Instant awesomeness. But what raised him to rock star waiter status in my opinion was how he treated Brookie.
Insert note. Brookie, bless her heart, is a seven year old stuck in a sixteen year old's body. She plays Disney Fairies on the internet, carries a stuff animal around, and talks constantly about mystical creatures. Unicorns. End note.
So Jimmer-waiter comes around with grilled pineapple, a Tucanos specialty. Everyone at the table quickly call for a portion, well everyone but Brooke, who tells him she's not interested. He froze, looked her straight in the eye and said "Seriously? I come here with an unicorn all saddled up and ready to go and you tell me no?"
Everyone else stared at him in shock. Did he just seriously compare grilled pineapple to an unicorn? How did he know?
In that moment, we all converted to the Jimmer-waiter fan club. And he never let us down (well except for when he forgot to give Mom and I pulled pork, but that's easily forgivable). He almost convinced me that the whole crew at Tucanos were going to sing Happy Birthday to me, complete with drums and tambourine. Almost.
So at the end of the day, I think I finally found Brooke a man to marry. So Jimmer-waiter, if you miraculously find this and read it, please wait for my sister. You are a match made in heaven. Or middle earth.
6/17/11
T - 15
Life is about endings and beginnings. Take, for example, in 15 minutes I will no longer be 18. Ending. And in 15 minutes, I will be 19. Beginning. This is my last year of being a teenager. Ending. But my birthday precedes a year of new adventures as a sophomore. Beginning. Thus closes a chapter in my life, a chapter filled with hardship, new friends, and powerful lessons. Ending. But in the future lies hope. Beginning.
Goodbye 18 year old Sarah. I have mixed feelings about you. You taught me a lot. Unfortunately, the learning was painful. I hope my 19 year old self remembers what you taught her and doesn't make those same mistakes. Now, please step aside, and have fun hanging out in the past. Au revoir!
Hello 19.
Goodbye 18 year old Sarah. I have mixed feelings about you. You taught me a lot. Unfortunately, the learning was painful. I hope my 19 year old self remembers what you taught her and doesn't make those same mistakes. Now, please step aside, and have fun hanging out in the past. Au revoir!
Hello 19.
6/15/11
The BIG 1000!!!
Dear 1000th reader,
Thank you so much so taking the time to read my humble blog.
Almost a year ago, I created this blog as a means to keep my Mesa friends and my extended family updated on the comings and goings of a BYU guard girl. Slowly it increase in readership and now I have finally hit the big 1000.
So my incredibly awesome and good-looking 1000th reader, if you ever discover that you are indeed my 1000th reader, I owe you a delicious dinner, the best you can find in good ole Utah.
Love,
Sarah
Thank you so much so taking the time to read my humble blog.
Almost a year ago, I created this blog as a means to keep my Mesa friends and my extended family updated on the comings and goings of a BYU guard girl. Slowly it increase in readership and now I have finally hit the big 1000.
So my incredibly awesome and good-looking 1000th reader, if you ever discover that you are indeed my 1000th reader, I owe you a delicious dinner, the best you can find in good ole Utah.
Love,
Sarah
6/9/11
Puppies Part 2
So the puppies are 3 weeks old and they are getting so big!!! I can't wait for them to be big enough to leave their kiddie pool and run around the backyard. Here is a picture of the runt with my cousin Rachael. Aren't they both adorable?
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| My favorite |
6/2/11
Puppies
So two and a half weeks ago, my cousins' dog, Miki, had puppies. Thirteen of them! Now shut that mouth before a fly flies in! Yes, it was overwhelming for the humans and the mommy. It took twelve hours from the first puppy to be born to the last puppy to be born. Ugh! Makes me glad that there is no way on this earth I could ever have thirteen children at one time. Unless Octo-mom tries to set a new record, she may prove it possible. But I doubt it. Here are some adorable pictures of the newborn chocolate lab puppies.
So now that you've seen for yourself how stinkin' cute these tiny creatures are, you are just dying to have one join your stinkin' cute family. Well, it is your lucky day, just comment on this post and I will get you all the information you need to adopt your own adorable, friendly, loyal, and don't forget stinkin' cute chocolate lab.
5/4/11
It's All About the Dress
Here are some pictures I took of my darling cousin Rachael last Saturday while we were trying on prom dresses.
5/3/11
Adventures in the HFAC
Here is an excerpt from one of my writing logs from first semester. Gotta love the HFAC!
"So I’m sitting in the HFAC eating my peanut-butter and honey sandwich, listening to this guy talk about his love life. It’s actually quite comical. Let me set up the situation: Boy meets girl, knows her for two months, goes on one date, decides he is absolutely in love with her, wants to date her again, writes her a song. And tonight is the grand premiere of his knee-buckling, romantic hit “Christine”. (obviously, the name of his beloved)
"So I’m sitting in the HFAC eating my peanut-butter and honey sandwich, listening to this guy talk about his love life. It’s actually quite comical. Let me set up the situation: Boy meets girl, knows her for two months, goes on one date, decides he is absolutely in love with her, wants to date her again, writes her a song. And tonight is the grand premiere of his knee-buckling, romantic hit “Christine”. (obviously, the name of his beloved)
I’m completely serious.
But you can’t blame him; he is, of course, a love-sick music major. Therefore, his love is a romantic adventure. He held his breath in the tunnel for her. He threw a penny in a fountain to bring luck to his quest. And tonight, all of his hopes, dreams, and infatuations will be summed up in a musical plea for a second date.
With earnest hope in his eyes, he pulls out an unassuming piece of lined paper deemed with the golden lyrics of his love song. He then begins to read aloud the words of his undying affection to his friends. As he finished, he looks at his comrades, waiting for their commentary. After a moment of strange silence, his friend looks him in the eye and said, “Dude, you sound like you are going to propose to her”. My thoughts exactly.
While all this is going on, I am silently laughing over here. I can just envision him walking up to this unsuspecting girl, going down on one knee, pulling out a guitar from behind his back, and singing his soul to her. Creeper. If I was her, I book it out of there.
But what I learned today from my odd experience in the HFAC was that maybe music majors are more interesting and spontaneous than I thought they’d be."
Princess Sarah
I want to be a princess.
Okay, I know... every little girl wants to be a princess. But that youthful royal-pining comes back every once in awhile, especially when there's a royal wedding.
I mean, I've always had royal aspirations. As long as I can remember, I've wanted to go to England. And then, at 16, my wish was granted and I spent a week in London. I fell in love with the city and vowed to return. But I want to focus on a particular event. During my marvelous week in London, I took a bus tour. A tour that would change my life. We were zooming around the streets of London when our tour guide announced, "Ladies and Gentlemen, as we pass the next street here, we will have our first glimpse of Buckingham Palace." The passengers excitedly situated themselves to see the view. And then we saw this
And what my initial thought? "I want to be a princess." My wheels started to turn as I concocted my brilliant plan. First I considered my options, which led me to two candidates, William or Harry. Hmm... well, William is much too old for me, I mean we're like 10 years minus 3 days apart. No William for me. So that left Harry. Harry the partying, Nazi-uniform wearing redhead. Not a lot of charming qualities, especially the latter one, but I would live in Buckingham and that's good enough for me. Next, I planned how to get back to England. I would go after every opportunity I could to make it to London: study abroads, internships, jobs, even graduate school. I would get there, and then it would only be a matter of luck and charms before I would become Princess Sarah.
Yes, I was an interesting 16 year old. Luckily, sense and maturity came with age and I soon abandoned a hopeless dream.
Fast forward to April 29th, 2011. No, I wasn't up at 2 AM in the morning to watch the royal wedding live. Actually, I really didn't care much about it. I'm more interested in British politics than Royal celebrations these days. But I was bored, so I watched the reruns on my laptop. I watched Kate step out of the Rolls-Royce, I admired her dress, I watched her walk down Westminster Abbey, cool and collected. I was hooked. I watched the ceremony and the long carriage ride back to Buckingham. I watched the famous two kisses on the balcony. I even scanned through the photo album of the royals' hats. Princess fever was back. And with it my plan.
So my fellow "Harry hunters", let the games begin. Princess Sarah is back!!
http://bltwy.msnbc.msn.com/pol
Okay, I know... every little girl wants to be a princess. But that youthful royal-pining comes back every once in awhile, especially when there's a royal wedding.
I mean, I've always had royal aspirations. As long as I can remember, I've wanted to go to England. And then, at 16, my wish was granted and I spent a week in London. I fell in love with the city and vowed to return. But I want to focus on a particular event. During my marvelous week in London, I took a bus tour. A tour that would change my life. We were zooming around the streets of London when our tour guide announced, "Ladies and Gentlemen, as we pass the next street here, we will have our first glimpse of Buckingham Palace." The passengers excitedly situated themselves to see the view. And then we saw this
And what my initial thought? "I want to be a princess." My wheels started to turn as I concocted my brilliant plan. First I considered my options, which led me to two candidates, William or Harry. Hmm... well, William is much too old for me, I mean we're like 10 years minus 3 days apart. No William for me. So that left Harry. Harry the partying, Nazi-uniform wearing redhead. Not a lot of charming qualities, especially the latter one, but I would live in Buckingham and that's good enough for me. Next, I planned how to get back to England. I would go after every opportunity I could to make it to London: study abroads, internships, jobs, even graduate school. I would get there, and then it would only be a matter of luck and charms before I would become Princess Sarah.
Yes, I was an interesting 16 year old. Luckily, sense and maturity came with age and I soon abandoned a hopeless dream.
Fast forward to April 29th, 2011. No, I wasn't up at 2 AM in the morning to watch the royal wedding live. Actually, I really didn't care much about it. I'm more interested in British politics than Royal celebrations these days. But I was bored, so I watched the reruns on my laptop. I watched Kate step out of the Rolls-Royce, I admired her dress, I watched her walk down Westminster Abbey, cool and collected. I was hooked. I watched the ceremony and the long carriage ride back to Buckingham. I watched the famous two kisses on the balcony. I even scanned through the photo album of the royals' hats. Princess fever was back. And with it my plan.
So my fellow "Harry hunters", let the games begin. Princess Sarah is back!!
http://bltwy.msnbc.msn.com/pol
4/15/11
Sometimes, writing in a blog is difficult. I mean, what exactly should I write about? Should it be a place where I expound on my extremely complex and profound thoughts on philosophical issues? Or a satirical outlet? Maybe I should share the mundane comings and goings of a college freshman, soon to be sophomore? No, no, that won't do. I mean, I actually want people to read this blog. Hmmm...
Sometimes, I just don't know what to do about my blog.
Today, I was effectively procrastinating studying for finals (I still am) by stalking-- I mean "following"-- people's blogs. Out of pure curiosity, I decided to check on a friend from high school's, Tucker Denton, blog. I had been hearing interesting things about his blog, critical acclaims from old friends and such. So I had to give it a look myself. Thus, an almost two hour laugh-fest started as I read his satirical thoughts on life at good ole BYU. Honestly, if you have a moment or two, read his blog. It is quite entertaining (and that is a major understatement). But it made me look upon this blog with a pitying glance. My blog needs a makeover. No longer can it be a quaint little blog with cutesy pictures of my adventures in Provoland. No, my blog needs to be a rockstar, with cone shaped bras and bubble dresses for sure! I mean fo sho! Gosh, I've gotta spice it up!
So my new, and improved blog was born in one of the strangest places imaginable-- the bathtub. My first post: the funny interactions I have with my roomies during my bath-time. It was witty, it was hilarious... okay, it was a wreck. My punchlines? lacking. My anecdotes? boring and kind of gross. No one wants to hear the conversations that go on as one of my roommates takes a dump while I am in the tub. Or maybe they do, which, not gonna lie, kind of weirds me out. So my first attempt was a failure. Not fit to print (or post, but the rhyming sounds better).
So here I was, sitting in the bathtub, depressed at the poor state of my little blog when a marvelous thought popped in my head. Let the people decide!!!! I mean we live in a democracy right? So ladies and gents, I put my blog in your hands. What do you want to read? Funny insights into the life of a college ginger? Updates on my oh so exciting existence? Pictures and descriptions of my impressive collection of shoes? You decide.
May the force be with you.
Sometimes, I just don't know what to do about my blog.
Today, I was effectively procrastinating studying for finals (I still am) by stalking-- I mean "following"-- people's blogs. Out of pure curiosity, I decided to check on a friend from high school's, Tucker Denton, blog. I had been hearing interesting things about his blog, critical acclaims from old friends and such. So I had to give it a look myself. Thus, an almost two hour laugh-fest started as I read his satirical thoughts on life at good ole BYU. Honestly, if you have a moment or two, read his blog. It is quite entertaining (and that is a major understatement). But it made me look upon this blog with a pitying glance. My blog needs a makeover. No longer can it be a quaint little blog with cutesy pictures of my adventures in Provoland. No, my blog needs to be a rockstar, with cone shaped bras and bubble dresses for sure! I mean fo sho! Gosh, I've gotta spice it up!
So my new, and improved blog was born in one of the strangest places imaginable-- the bathtub. My first post: the funny interactions I have with my roomies during my bath-time. It was witty, it was hilarious... okay, it was a wreck. My punchlines? lacking. My anecdotes? boring and kind of gross. No one wants to hear the conversations that go on as one of my roommates takes a dump while I am in the tub. Or maybe they do, which, not gonna lie, kind of weirds me out. So my first attempt was a failure. Not fit to print (or post, but the rhyming sounds better).
So here I was, sitting in the bathtub, depressed at the poor state of my little blog when a marvelous thought popped in my head. Let the people decide!!!! I mean we live in a democracy right? So ladies and gents, I put my blog in your hands. What do you want to read? Funny insights into the life of a college ginger? Updates on my oh so exciting existence? Pictures and descriptions of my impressive collection of shoes? You decide.
May the force be with you.
4/4/11
Hare Krishna!
I am always amazed at the culture I have experienced here in Utah. Of course, it is not as amazing or diverse as say New York City, but there is so much more culture here than I thought there would be. (Although I'm still looking for an phenomenal Vietnamese restaurant, let me know if you know any)
For example, there is a Hindu temple in Spanish Fork, only twenty minutes away! So yesterday, I had the experience of going to the temple to participate in Holi, a Hindu festival celebrating Spring. Of course, the weather was cloudy and cold with an ever threatening chance that it might rain. But despite the gloomy weather, it was one heck of a party.
After driving around rural Utah, trying to find the Temple, Jiffer, Kevin, Ali, and I finally found a parking spot and started the 2 mile hike to the temple. We had no clue what we were getting ourselves into. We just threw together some crappy jeans and white t-shirts (except Ali, his was in the wash, so he wore blue) and came to experience. Before we even reached the temple, the Holi celebration began. To celebrate Holi, people throw colored chalk at each other. So as we climbed the hill, the people leaving were hitting us with pink and teal and yellow chalk. By the time we reached the entrance, we were already slightly colorful.
But that would soon change. The temple grounds had several pavilions, one of which had a band singing spiritual songs. In front of the pavilion/stage was a humongous crowd of multicolor people chanting and waving their hands in the air. On several instances, there was crowd-surfing. I felt a glimmer of what it must have been like at Woodstock. At that point, my rebellious, party side came out. I started to weave through the crowd, making my way to the center, the others following me. The band was reciting the Hare Krishna mantra. The celebrators were tossing chalk into the air, and at us. By the time we reached the middle of the crowd, we were pretty colorful.
At three, we did a classic Holi tradition, the representative burning of the witch Holika. The crowd was screaming, "Burn the witch! Burn the witch!" It was like I was in another world. Then the countdown began for the releasing of the colors. As we got closer to one, the energy grew and grew. Then the countdown was finished and people began throwing chalk into the air. Chalk got in my eyes, my nose, my lungs, everywhere. The sky was replaced by a cloud of pink and green. It was crazy!
The Festival of Colors was an awesome experience. I will definitely be there next year!
For example, there is a Hindu temple in Spanish Fork, only twenty minutes away! So yesterday, I had the experience of going to the temple to participate in Holi, a Hindu festival celebrating Spring. Of course, the weather was cloudy and cold with an ever threatening chance that it might rain. But despite the gloomy weather, it was one heck of a party.
After driving around rural Utah, trying to find the Temple, Jiffer, Kevin, Ali, and I finally found a parking spot and started the 2 mile hike to the temple. We had no clue what we were getting ourselves into. We just threw together some crappy jeans and white t-shirts (except Ali, his was in the wash, so he wore blue) and came to experience. Before we even reached the temple, the Holi celebration began. To celebrate Holi, people throw colored chalk at each other. So as we climbed the hill, the people leaving were hitting us with pink and teal and yellow chalk. By the time we reached the entrance, we were already slightly colorful.
But that would soon change. The temple grounds had several pavilions, one of which had a band singing spiritual songs. In front of the pavilion/stage was a humongous crowd of multicolor people chanting and waving their hands in the air. On several instances, there was crowd-surfing. I felt a glimmer of what it must have been like at Woodstock. At that point, my rebellious, party side came out. I started to weave through the crowd, making my way to the center, the others following me. The band was reciting the Hare Krishna mantra. The celebrators were tossing chalk into the air, and at us. By the time we reached the middle of the crowd, we were pretty colorful.
At three, we did a classic Holi tradition, the representative burning of the witch Holika. The crowd was screaming, "Burn the witch! Burn the witch!" It was like I was in another world. Then the countdown began for the releasing of the colors. As we got closer to one, the energy grew and grew. Then the countdown was finished and people began throwing chalk into the air. Chalk got in my eyes, my nose, my lungs, everywhere. The sky was replaced by a cloud of pink and green. It was crazy!
The Festival of Colors was an awesome experience. I will definitely be there next year!
3/27/11
Holi Pictures
3/11/11
Spring is back!
It's amazing what sunlight and 50 degrees Fahrenheit can do to the BYU campus and my soul. I am sitting on the grass in front of the JKB, soaking in the sunlight and people watching. There are people everywhere: people on benches, people sleeping on the lawn, people having picnics. Life has come back to BYU.
I've missed this.
Winter was nasty. Campus was a cold, barren wasteland. Gray was the color of the day, everyday. And with all that grayness came seasonal depression. Waking up in the morning was a chore. Motivation was hard to come by. And it was all so new to me because I was an Arizona girl. Winter doesn't exist in Mesa, Arizona. So my first winter was interesting, to say the least.
But as I walked to my Calculus lab yesterday morning, I noticed something unusual. It was sunny. I have never seen the sun at 8:40 in the morning. I was either asleep (first semester) or the shy was a sallow shade of gray (second semester). That's when I knew: Spring has arrived. In just two sunny, warm days, so much has changed. I am more happy and positive. I am getting more things done. I can finally see summer just around the corner. It is all so exciting!
So Spring, welcome back. I have surely missed you.
I've missed this.
Winter was nasty. Campus was a cold, barren wasteland. Gray was the color of the day, everyday. And with all that grayness came seasonal depression. Waking up in the morning was a chore. Motivation was hard to come by. And it was all so new to me because I was an Arizona girl. Winter doesn't exist in Mesa, Arizona. So my first winter was interesting, to say the least.
But as I walked to my Calculus lab yesterday morning, I noticed something unusual. It was sunny. I have never seen the sun at 8:40 in the morning. I was either asleep (first semester) or the shy was a sallow shade of gray (second semester). That's when I knew: Spring has arrived. In just two sunny, warm days, so much has changed. I am more happy and positive. I am getting more things done. I can finally see summer just around the corner. It is all so exciting!
So Spring, welcome back. I have surely missed you.
3/6/11
Curly Top
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| The "before" picture |
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| In the middle of the straightening process, sides straight, front curly |
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| "You think I'm pretty?" |
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| "So soft!" |
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| Any drastic hair-do needs a good amount of hairspray |
3/2/11
Me No Likee Skates
Announcement to the world: Sarah Toller will NEVER go roller skating again. EVER!!
I should have known going to the ward party at the roller skating rink was a bad idea. I mean, shouldn't I have learned from the past? Sixth grade. Paige Davis and I go to a skating party at Skateland for a school party. I don my roller skates, excited for a new experience. Confident in my abilities, I had been roller blading for years now. But alas, roller skates are not the same as roller blades. I fell and I fell and I fell. I was so bad, that a girl pushed me down and shouted "You suck!". I was heart-broken and the skating rink become a place of embarrassment and pain to me ever since.
And it was the same tonight. Finally, after 20 minutes of mediocre skating, three falls, and a shattered self-esteem, my fellow ward member Celeste recommended I switch to a scooter. Good idea, I thought to myself. And at first it was. I was now going faster than any of those roller-skaters. I was doing battements and piques. I was having a ball.
But my joy was not to last. In an attempt to do a one-legged squat on my Razr, I totally biffed it. Arms flailing, I slammed into the floor, pain shooting through my body. To make it worse, an innocent roller skater crashed and landed on me, pounding my head against the floor again, causing a concussion. Since I was mostly fine, I got up and continued doing what I had been doing before.
A couple songs, a NSYNC dance, and a game later, I was scooting my way around the rink when I collided with a skater who swerved in my path. I bumped my chin on her back causing another concussion. I was done for the night.
So my injuries for the night are: bruised cheekbone, scratched chin, bleeding wound on my finger, a concussion, a broken ring, and a cracked cellphone. Not to mention, a semi-tramatized Sarah.
So I have learned a lesson: when the ward goes to the skating rink, don't go. Instead, stay home, finish your homework and make brownies to share with my beloved friends.
I should have known going to the ward party at the roller skating rink was a bad idea. I mean, shouldn't I have learned from the past? Sixth grade. Paige Davis and I go to a skating party at Skateland for a school party. I don my roller skates, excited for a new experience. Confident in my abilities, I had been roller blading for years now. But alas, roller skates are not the same as roller blades. I fell and I fell and I fell. I was so bad, that a girl pushed me down and shouted "You suck!". I was heart-broken and the skating rink become a place of embarrassment and pain to me ever since.And it was the same tonight. Finally, after 20 minutes of mediocre skating, three falls, and a shattered self-esteem, my fellow ward member Celeste recommended I switch to a scooter. Good idea, I thought to myself. And at first it was. I was now going faster than any of those roller-skaters. I was doing battements and piques. I was having a ball.
But my joy was not to last. In an attempt to do a one-legged squat on my Razr, I totally biffed it. Arms flailing, I slammed into the floor, pain shooting through my body. To make it worse, an innocent roller skater crashed and landed on me, pounding my head against the floor again, causing a concussion. Since I was mostly fine, I got up and continued doing what I had been doing before.A couple songs, a NSYNC dance, and a game later, I was scooting my way around the rink when I collided with a skater who swerved in my path. I bumped my chin on her back causing another concussion. I was done for the night.
So my injuries for the night are: bruised cheekbone, scratched chin, bleeding wound on my finger, a concussion, a broken ring, and a cracked cellphone. Not to mention, a semi-tramatized Sarah.
So I have learned a lesson: when the ward goes to the skating rink, don't go. Instead, stay home, finish your homework and make brownies to share with my beloved friends.
3/1/11
No Capes, Only Men
It's a bird, no it's a plane, NO it's the Mr. Heritage Competition!!
So the past month has been filled with jokes, push-ups, and dancing as I helped organize and choreograph the Mr. Heritage competition. Mr. Heritage is a spoof of a beauty pageant put on by RHA every year, complete with evening wear, talent, and world peace.
These boys worked their butts off for Mr. Heritage. Every week, they gave up 5 to 6 hours to do whatever we choreographers asked them to do. For example, first night of practice, Aubree had them do V sit-ups (basically, sit-ups with your legs in the air forming a V). They didn't need to do that. It was just a source of laughs for us in charge. hehe.
At last the big day arrived. We estimated that about 400 people would attend. In reality, 500 people showed up for the big event. The crowd was crazy!!! People made signs. People started loud chants, screaming the name of their candidate.
one kid even brought one of those trumpet horn thing from the World Cup. The energy in Wilk 3220 was intense. So intense that no could hear the music for the opening number! I was freaking out a little, but the boys pulled through despite the complications and rocked the opening number. I was so proud of them. I was screaming their names, bouncing in my seat, even blowing kisses like an energized italian, they were that amazing.
After a short game of Superhero trivia, the boys showed their personalities during the Evening wear and Question and Answer section. Some honorable mentions were Tyson's pjs and pillow pet and Sam's top hat and cane. The answers to the questions and situations were hilarious. When asked what he would do if he walked in on his roommate making out with a girl in his room, Tysum replied, "Well, it depends on if the girl is hot." Um...
Then it was the fitness routine. I was backstage where I totally made a fool of myself. My job was to set the props needed for the fitness routine. I was taking a yoga ball onto the stage when I tripped and face-planted onto the stage with a loud thud. I was mortified. But luckily, everyone was too enthralled with the contestants' physiques to notice my fall. Whew! The fitness routine featured push-ups, tricky jumping jacks, jump ropes, yoga balls, and steps. When the music stopped and the boys fell to the ground in exhaustion, the crowd was hysterical.
Next was the talent portion. All the boys had great talents. James B and crew wore Glow-in-the-dark stick people suits and did... well I don't what they did, but it was pretty cool. Jordan performed a Mario skit, which the audience really liked. And Michael performed a Napoleon Dynamite inspired dance, complete with the Happy Hands Club.
Before I knew it, it was time to announce the winner. And the 2011 Mr. Heritage winner was... Michael Gebhard!!! Way to represent the BYU 68th ward Michael!! But all the boys could have been Mr. Heritage. They are all so amazing! A great group of young men, fo sho!
So Mr. Heritage is over and I once again have free time. Still, Mr. Heritage will live on as an incredible memory from my freshman year at BYU.
So the past month has been filled with jokes, push-ups, and dancing as I helped organize and choreograph the Mr. Heritage competition. Mr. Heritage is a spoof of a beauty pageant put on by RHA every year, complete with evening wear, talent, and world peace.
 |
| Working hard at Mr. Heritage practice |
These boys worked their butts off for Mr. Heritage. Every week, they gave up 5 to 6 hours to do whatever we choreographers asked them to do. For example, first night of practice, Aubree had them do V sit-ups (basically, sit-ups with your legs in the air forming a V). They didn't need to do that. It was just a source of laughs for us in charge. hehe.
 |
| Crazy fans with awesome signs |
At last the big day arrived. We estimated that about 400 people would attend. In reality, 500 people showed up for the big event. The crowd was crazy!!! People made signs. People started loud chants, screaming the name of their candidate.
one kid even brought one of those trumpet horn thing from the World Cup. The energy in Wilk 3220 was intense. So intense that no could hear the music for the opening number! I was freaking out a little, but the boys pulled through despite the complications and rocked the opening number. I was so proud of them. I was screaming their names, bouncing in my seat, even blowing kisses like an energized italian, they were that amazing.
After a short game of Superhero trivia, the boys showed their personalities during the Evening wear and Question and Answer section. Some honorable mentions were Tyson's pjs and pillow pet and Sam's top hat and cane. The answers to the questions and situations were hilarious. When asked what he would do if he walked in on his roommate making out with a girl in his room, Tysum replied, "Well, it depends on if the girl is hot." Um...
Next was the talent portion. All the boys had great talents. James B and crew wore Glow-in-the-dark stick people suits and did... well I don't what they did, but it was pretty cool. Jordan performed a Mario skit, which the audience really liked. And Michael performed a Napoleon Dynamite inspired dance, complete with the Happy Hands Club.
 |
| The studly men themselves: (from left to right, back row) Sam, James B, James K, Michael, Jordan, RT, Tyson (front row) Josh, Tysum, Jared, and Matzen |
Before I knew it, it was time to announce the winner. And the 2011 Mr. Heritage winner was... Michael Gebhard!!! Way to represent the BYU 68th ward Michael!! But all the boys could have been Mr. Heritage. They are all so amazing! A great group of young men, fo sho!
So Mr. Heritage is over and I once again have free time. Still, Mr. Heritage will live on as an incredible memory from my freshman year at BYU.
2/14/11
Fruits and Chocolate
Since today is Valentine's Day, I thought I'd share an experience my roomie and I had with chocolate. I mean Valentine's= chocolate right?
It all started with oreo truffles (or as my roommates say, oreo balls). After I brought some home from a date the previous week, my roomies had been begging for more, so Jiff and I decided to make some. But there was one problem: I can't melt chocolate. I honestly burnt three batches of chocolate. So finally Jiffer took over and melted some chocolate, only we had too much milk chocolate left over. And of course, we can't let chocolate go to waste, so we started to look for things to dip in the chocolate. What we found-- kiwis and oranges. Our unorthodox dipping fruits were not as scrumptious as say, oh I don't know, strawberries. But they did the job. Who knows, maybe chocolate-covered kiwis are the Valentine's delight of the future. Umm, probably not. But it was a college adventure. One of the many.
It all started with oreo truffles (or as my roommates say, oreo balls). After I brought some home from a date the previous week, my roomies had been begging for more, so Jiff and I decided to make some. But there was one problem: I can't melt chocolate. I honestly burnt three batches of chocolate. So finally Jiffer took over and melted some chocolate, only we had too much milk chocolate left over. And of course, we can't let chocolate go to waste, so we started to look for things to dip in the chocolate. What we found-- kiwis and oranges. Our unorthodox dipping fruits were not as scrumptious as say, oh I don't know, strawberries. But they did the job. Who knows, maybe chocolate-covered kiwis are the Valentine's delight of the future. Umm, probably not. But it was a college adventure. One of the many.
2/13/11
Les Mis
The mysteries and intricacies of the human soul are unveiled in the simple, and not so simple, melodies and lyrics of a Broadway musical.
- Sarah Toller
Whatever happens in my life, I can always express it with a song from a musical. Need a picker-upper? "Put on a Happy Face" from Bye Bye Birdie. Ready to change my life? "Defying Gravity" from Wicked. Day-dreaming about the perfect man? "Til I hear You Sing" from Love Never Dies (I'm totally in love with the Phantom. Don't judge.)
My life has been filled with Broadway CDs, cassettes, and YouTube videos. But alas, my list of musicals that I've actually seen is rather short. It took me five years after discovering Wicked to finally see it live. And it took me seventeen years to see The Phantom of the Opera. But today, I saw another show I'd been obsessing over for the first time: the wonderful, emotional, spine-chilling Les Miserables.
True, it was a high school production and not a Broadway or West End performance, but I was still amazed. It was wonderful to finally see all the little details of the story. I've known the basic plot for years, but I loved seeing Javert sing "Stars" and Marius asking Eponine to some PI work for him about Cosette. You see that in the concert or the Dennis Quaid movie. Les Mis was now real. It was tangible.
For a high school production, it was amazingly good. They had custom soundtracks, intricate lighting (they turned the ceiling of the auditorium into a starry sky), and beautiful, detailed sets. But the talent was superb. Jean Valjean nailed his falsetto solos. Javert was convincing. Gavroche (played by my adorable cousin, JD) stole the show. But the two actors that made the play for me was the boy who played Marius and the girl who played Eponine. Marius's voice was perfect. It was robust, yet full of emotion. "Empty Chairs at Empty Tables" was heart-wrenching. I was locked to Marius's face the whole song. He had me hook, line, and sinker. And then Eponine. Since she is my favorite character and sings some of my all-time favorite ballads, the actress's portrayal of Eponine would either make or break the entire performance. She did not disappoint. Her "On My Own" was solid, though I think she could have been more passionate in the final stanza (but that's a subjective comment, technique-wise, she was great).
I could write all night about the insights I made from Les Mis, but it's 2:40 in the morning and I think it would be beneficial for me to get some shut-eye. So to sum it up, I was impressed by my first performance of Les Mis. It definitely beat my already high expectations. I cannot wait to see it again.
- Sarah Toller
Whatever happens in my life, I can always express it with a song from a musical. Need a picker-upper? "Put on a Happy Face" from Bye Bye Birdie. Ready to change my life? "Defying Gravity" from Wicked. Day-dreaming about the perfect man? "Til I hear You Sing" from Love Never Dies (I'm totally in love with the Phantom. Don't judge.)
My life has been filled with Broadway CDs, cassettes, and YouTube videos. But alas, my list of musicals that I've actually seen is rather short. It took me five years after discovering Wicked to finally see it live. And it took me seventeen years to see The Phantom of the Opera. But today, I saw another show I'd been obsessing over for the first time: the wonderful, emotional, spine-chilling Les Miserables.
True, it was a high school production and not a Broadway or West End performance, but I was still amazed. It was wonderful to finally see all the little details of the story. I've known the basic plot for years, but I loved seeing Javert sing "Stars" and Marius asking Eponine to some PI work for him about Cosette. You see that in the concert or the Dennis Quaid movie. Les Mis was now real. It was tangible.
For a high school production, it was amazingly good. They had custom soundtracks, intricate lighting (they turned the ceiling of the auditorium into a starry sky), and beautiful, detailed sets. But the talent was superb. Jean Valjean nailed his falsetto solos. Javert was convincing. Gavroche (played by my adorable cousin, JD) stole the show. But the two actors that made the play for me was the boy who played Marius and the girl who played Eponine. Marius's voice was perfect. It was robust, yet full of emotion. "Empty Chairs at Empty Tables" was heart-wrenching. I was locked to Marius's face the whole song. He had me hook, line, and sinker. And then Eponine. Since she is my favorite character and sings some of my all-time favorite ballads, the actress's portrayal of Eponine would either make or break the entire performance. She did not disappoint. Her "On My Own" was solid, though I think she could have been more passionate in the final stanza (but that's a subjective comment, technique-wise, she was great).
I could write all night about the insights I made from Les Mis, but it's 2:40 in the morning and I think it would be beneficial for me to get some shut-eye. So to sum it up, I was impressed by my first performance of Les Mis. It definitely beat my already high expectations. I cannot wait to see it again.
1/18/11
M&M Day
Before you get your coconut and pretzel M&Ms out, this is not an ode to the tiny chocolate candies. No, yesterday, January 17, 2011, was Mormon and Muslim day... well, at least to the members of the 68th ward.
It all started Sunday night, when I met Ali, the Muslim who just moved into my ward boundaries. He's from Kenya and he is currently in the accounting program at BYU. Well, he, Marian, and I hit it off and started talking about culture, travel, and food. Then he invited us to go to one of the mosques in Salt Lake City. Of course, we accepted. So eleven hours, eleven people, and three cars later, we were heading to SLC for an adventure.
First stop: Temple Square. We first went to see the Joseph Smith movie in the Legacy Theatre at the Joseph Smith Memorial Building (JSMB). My car arrived first so we wandered around the JSMB and listened to a brief history of the building thanks to one of the kind old ladies who works there. For example, I never knew that the JSMB used to be the Hotel Utah and it didn't become the JSMB until after I was born. Also, we saw the chapel where the Prophet attends church. Cool, huh? Then the rest of our party arrived and we filed into the theatre for the movie. I am so amazed by all the wonderful talent in the church. The cinematography was beautiful. I was amazed at the life of Joseph Smith. He faced so many trials. I teared up when he got the leg surgery at age 7 and when Alvin died. But the end of the movie made me bawl. I haven't cried like that in a long time. Overall, the movie strengthened my testimony in the restoration and inspired me to be a better person.
After Temple Square, we headed to a mosque. I have to say it was a lot simpler than I thought it would be. There are two floors, the first floor is a large room where the men say their prayers. At the borders of the room were bookcases with Koran, both in Arabic and English. I took a seat and read a little bit out of the Koran. It was interesting, but very confusing-- very similar to Isaiah to the untrained reader. The imam of the mosque came to talk with us and answer questions. I was in awe, I was talking to an imam!! How cool is that! Then, we headed to the second floor where the women go and where they have the equivalent of Sunday school. On the white board, there were lots of doodles and scribbles not unlike the white boards and chalkboards in my church building at home. Good to know that Muslim and Mormons teens are not that different after all.
After we left the mosque, Ali, Heather, Allison and I went to Kneader's for lunch. So delicious. Definitely one of the best sandwich places I've ever been to. Once we filled ourselves to the brim with scrumptious food, we piled back into my little Honda and drove back to Provo, finishing our M&M day.
PS- the mosque we went to offers a tour at 12:15pm on Fridays where you can take a tour of the facility and then learn some of the tenants of Islam. The address is 1019 West Parkway Ave in West Valley, Utah. I know I will definitely be going sometime this semester.
It all started Sunday night, when I met Ali, the Muslim who just moved into my ward boundaries. He's from Kenya and he is currently in the accounting program at BYU. Well, he, Marian, and I hit it off and started talking about culture, travel, and food. Then he invited us to go to one of the mosques in Salt Lake City. Of course, we accepted. So eleven hours, eleven people, and three cars later, we were heading to SLC for an adventure.
First stop: Temple Square. We first went to see the Joseph Smith movie in the Legacy Theatre at the Joseph Smith Memorial Building (JSMB). My car arrived first so we wandered around the JSMB and listened to a brief history of the building thanks to one of the kind old ladies who works there. For example, I never knew that the JSMB used to be the Hotel Utah and it didn't become the JSMB until after I was born. Also, we saw the chapel where the Prophet attends church. Cool, huh? Then the rest of our party arrived and we filed into the theatre for the movie. I am so amazed by all the wonderful talent in the church. The cinematography was beautiful. I was amazed at the life of Joseph Smith. He faced so many trials. I teared up when he got the leg surgery at age 7 and when Alvin died. But the end of the movie made me bawl. I haven't cried like that in a long time. Overall, the movie strengthened my testimony in the restoration and inspired me to be a better person.
After Temple Square, we headed to a mosque. I have to say it was a lot simpler than I thought it would be. There are two floors, the first floor is a large room where the men say their prayers. At the borders of the room were bookcases with Koran, both in Arabic and English. I took a seat and read a little bit out of the Koran. It was interesting, but very confusing-- very similar to Isaiah to the untrained reader. The imam of the mosque came to talk with us and answer questions. I was in awe, I was talking to an imam!! How cool is that! Then, we headed to the second floor where the women go and where they have the equivalent of Sunday school. On the white board, there were lots of doodles and scribbles not unlike the white boards and chalkboards in my church building at home. Good to know that Muslim and Mormons teens are not that different after all.
After we left the mosque, Ali, Heather, Allison and I went to Kneader's for lunch. So delicious. Definitely one of the best sandwich places I've ever been to. Once we filled ourselves to the brim with scrumptious food, we piled back into my little Honda and drove back to Provo, finishing our M&M day.
1/2/11
Reflecting on 2010
Happy New Year everyone!
But as with every beginning, there is an ending. So let's look back at my top 11 moments of 2010.
11- Honors Writing Class
I have always loved writing, but my Honors Writing course at BYU ignited a passion for it. I was really lucky to have a marvelous professor, Debbie Harrison, who encouraged me to reach my writing potential. Also, I had fun, intelligent classmates who made class enjoyable. Definitely my favorite class of Fall semester.
10- Albuquerque Bowl Game
Possibly my last hurrah as a guardgirl. You can read about it on this blog.
9- My Birthday (road trip)
Moving out on my 18th birthday (what a rebel :) ) Read about it on this blog.
8- New York
What can I say I love the Big Apple. In March, I went to New York with my Model UN class to compete in the MUN competition at the Marriott hotel in Times Square. Although the actual competition was overwhelming, it was a marvelous opportunity. I met so many wonderful people from all over the world including the Bahamas, Taiwan, Italy, and Canada. I explored the Met and Fifth Avenue. I rode the tallest elevator I've ever seen. I met some very attractive guys. New York made me feel alive!
7- Fiesta Bowl Game
There's nothing better than not going to the first day of second semester and instead going to a football game. Because Mountain View is so awesome, the Fiesta Bowl committee asked us to wave the ginormous flag at the Fiesta Bowl. So my day started out with practicing waving a flag under the unbearable sun. Then after a yummy Chipotle lunch, the Band headed to the stadium where we waved the flag in front of 30,000+ people. It was a major rush. Then we watched the games from the stands. sometime, I'll put pictures from the game up on the blog.
6- LA
Civil War. Spoons. UCLA. Midnight coffee-shop runs. Panda Express. Miley Cyrus songs. Awkward plane conversations. Evil Presidents. Hello Dolly. Trader Jones. Running into a mutual group coming from the LA Temple. Pazookis. Sand octopus. College Students. Wishing I could go clubbing. The boardwalk. Man crushes. Crazy hats. The beach. Photo-shoots. Westwood. Crazy men on the bus. Model United Nations. Dee Dee Reese. Hot sun. Playing Hide and Go Seek. Santa Monica. Public Transportation. Awesome vacation? Most definitely.
5- U of U Football Game
What happens when you fill a stadium with blood-thirsty Ute fans? A whole lot of energy and suspense. Yes, I wasn't too excited to perform at a football instead of hanging out in Mesa. But the moment I stepped onto the field and heard the boos, it was on. I performed my heart out. I think everyone performed their heart out on that field. So much that the crowd quieted down a little. And the game itself? I was bouncing nervously in my seat until the last play of the game.
4- Cancun
Read about it on the Toller Crew.
3- Castles and Coasters
I love my band friends. And what a better way to end the band season than going to Castles and Coasters... for free.
2- Fiesta Bowl Band Competition
I love starting my year off with a good old band competition. The day started off by starring on Fox 10. Not really, but I did get a short cameo. Then I spent all day practicing in the Cardinal stadium's parking lot. Finally, we performed. It was the sickest moment ever. I was performing in a huge stadium! So cool! I had a total high when the performance was over. Then we performed again that night which was also awesome. Although Mountain View got third place, it was a day I would not quickly forget.
1- Junior Miss
Read about it on the Toller Crew.
So alas, 2010 is behind us. But hopefully, 2011 will bring many more wonderful moments.
But as with every beginning, there is an ending. So let's look back at my top 11 moments of 2010.
11- Honors Writing Class
I have always loved writing, but my Honors Writing course at BYU ignited a passion for it. I was really lucky to have a marvelous professor, Debbie Harrison, who encouraged me to reach my writing potential. Also, I had fun, intelligent classmates who made class enjoyable. Definitely my favorite class of Fall semester.
10- Albuquerque Bowl Game
Possibly my last hurrah as a guardgirl. You can read about it on this blog.
9- My Birthday (road trip)
Moving out on my 18th birthday (what a rebel :) ) Read about it on this blog.
8- New York
What can I say I love the Big Apple. In March, I went to New York with my Model UN class to compete in the MUN competition at the Marriott hotel in Times Square. Although the actual competition was overwhelming, it was a marvelous opportunity. I met so many wonderful people from all over the world including the Bahamas, Taiwan, Italy, and Canada. I explored the Met and Fifth Avenue. I rode the tallest elevator I've ever seen. I met some very attractive guys. New York made me feel alive!
7- Fiesta Bowl Game
There's nothing better than not going to the first day of second semester and instead going to a football game. Because Mountain View is so awesome, the Fiesta Bowl committee asked us to wave the ginormous flag at the Fiesta Bowl. So my day started out with practicing waving a flag under the unbearable sun. Then after a yummy Chipotle lunch, the Band headed to the stadium where we waved the flag in front of 30,000+ people. It was a major rush. Then we watched the games from the stands. sometime, I'll put pictures from the game up on the blog.
6- LACivil War. Spoons. UCLA. Midnight coffee-shop runs. Panda Express. Miley Cyrus songs. Awkward plane conversations. Evil Presidents. Hello Dolly. Trader Jones. Running into a mutual group coming from the LA Temple. Pazookis. Sand octopus. College Students. Wishing I could go clubbing. The boardwalk. Man crushes. Crazy hats. The beach. Photo-shoots. Westwood. Crazy men on the bus. Model United Nations. Dee Dee Reese. Hot sun. Playing Hide and Go Seek. Santa Monica. Public Transportation. Awesome vacation? Most definitely.
5- U of U Football Game
What happens when you fill a stadium with blood-thirsty Ute fans? A whole lot of energy and suspense. Yes, I wasn't too excited to perform at a football instead of hanging out in Mesa. But the moment I stepped onto the field and heard the boos, it was on. I performed my heart out. I think everyone performed their heart out on that field. So much that the crowd quieted down a little. And the game itself? I was bouncing nervously in my seat until the last play of the game.
4- Cancun
Read about it on the Toller Crew.
3- Castles and Coasters
I love my band friends. And what a better way to end the band season than going to Castles and Coasters... for free.
2- Fiesta Bowl Band Competition
1- Junior Miss
Read about it on the Toller Crew.
So alas, 2010 is behind us. But hopefully, 2011 will bring many more wonderful moments.
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