Lydian mode.

Going to my bishop's house is always a treat. It never quite seems like a real place until I'm standing on the terrace again, and my eyes are showing my brain that I didn't misremember or exaggerate a single detail. In fact, they assess critically, in remembering, I may have toned it down.

Saturday night, the bishop and his wife hosted a steak dinner for the choir members. You know, because they own miniature hilltop palaces and Bentleys, and they can afford to do that sort of thing. The steak wasn't even the best part of the meal, though it was undeniably delicious. No, the best part was the rolls. The rolls and the raspberry butter.

It was a pleasant evening of floating back and forth between rooms, talking to people I always talk to and to people I rarely see or to people I've barely met.

Because it was a choir gathering, and because the bishop just happens to have a room in his house with perfect acoustics, the evening ended quite naturally around the piano. As each person finished their performance, the bishop's wife would stare down her next victim until they became uncomfortable enough to walk willingly to the altar and play or sing. I'm thoroughly convinced that that woman could talk me into just about anything.

As the party broke up, she coerced every person polite enough to find her and say goodbye to take a plate of desserts with them.

I carpooled with Matt, so when we got back to his house and my truck, I decided to pop in and say hello to Drew and pawn my obligatory plate of desserts off on him. Three enjoyable hours later, I left knowing way more musical theory than I'll ever conceivably need and feeling like I wouldn't mind spending many more such evenings there with those gentlemen and scholars.

Sunday was stake conference, which means sitting really close to people if you want to sit on a padded pew instead of a hard plastic chair. Matt likened it to the improv game Sit, Stand, Kneel. One person would lean forward; someone else would sit back. One person would sit back; someone else would put their arm across the backrest. It was even funnier during the adult session because we'd all talked about it at that point, so every shift was an occasion for smiling at each other and trying not to laugh.

In between the general and adult sessions, Shantel and I hung out with Matt while he made brownies. Then, we all went over to Nate and Ryan's for pasta and Bang!. The outlaws won. I...came in second? I was the renegade, but after the deputy blew herself up with dynamite, I decided I couldn't win it hands down, so I just threw my lot in with the outlaws. Better to live not a winner than die a loser, or something like that.

My free time yesterday was devoted to stuffing wedding invitations into envelopes at Kylie's, running snacks to Drew out of sheer boredom (and the desire to avoid doing homework), and discussing things like quantum physics and Channing Tatum at the Friendship Dinner.

Today can kind of be summed up by the fact that I lugged my laptop to school only to realize that I left my charger at home on my bed. But, I get by with a little help from my friends.

Listening to: "I Eat People"
Reading: The Subtle Knife by Philip Pullman

This is Sparta.

Three and a half movies, several hours of Deadliest Warrior, and a large Dr. Pepper later, and I had actually pulled of my first all-nighter. Not that that was what I was really going for.

But that monstrosity of an editing assignment has been tamed at last! Of course, when I say tamed, I mean it in the sense of, "Good gravy, child! What on earth have you done to your hair? I'll never be able to get a comb through these knots. We'll have to cut them out."

And that is why I spent the entire day zoning in and out.

Listening to: "As The World Falls Down" by Geekella
Reading: The Subtle Knife by Philip Pullman

Happy my birthday! (And other recent events.)

My 21st birthday was celebrated on the Saturday preceding in a grand and childish fashion, with the shenanigans including several hours spent at a local playground swinging, sliding, and fleeing lava monsters. Back at the house, we were surprised by Disney Princess decorations, Silly Bandz, and card games. Playing that memory game with a deck wherein each princess is featured four times in slightly different poses does something to your brain. The rest of the party consisted of food, s'mores, every line dance known to man (or pretty close), and The Philadelphia Story (complete with massage train). Golly, but I love that movie!

For the actual day of my birthday, I spiffed myself up a very little and went out for barbecue at Lucille's con mi familia. And then we found a candy store that specializes in giant candy. If you ever find yourself in need of 7 lbs. of Hershey's syrup in one convenient container, I know where you need to go.

Valentine's Day is a birthday in my family, so we went to Rustler's Rooste as per the birthday boy's request. I'd never been there before, but I'd definitely love to go back on a not holiday. Its many charms include a scenic view, a live bull, country dancing, and a slide. What's not to love?

Yesterday, my dad and I went to IKEA to pick out my birthday present: bookshelves. When it comes to bookshelves, IKEA's strategy seems to be to hide their lack of variety by having the same two styles pop up in different colors in every section of the showroom.

The shelves are desperately needed. Books have taken over my room, which until the weekend of my birthday, I hadn't cleaned since at least October. I didn't realize how much of the outward-creeping debris was books until I moved them all to my bed and saw that the rest was just a top layer of clothes and empty shopping bags. I haven't slept in my bed for the past week and a half because my shelves are full to bursting, and I don't have the heart to put all of those books back on the floor. I'm such a softie.

Sorry for the radio silence. I think what I need to break through my writer's block is to just sit down and plough through one solid, full-length post, but I never feel like I have the time. Of course, I don't have the time to be watching back-to-back episodes of Gossip Girl, either, but that hasn't stopped me.

You know you love me.

xoxo

Listening to: Gossip Girl
Reading: The Subtle Knife by Philip Pullman

Cop out.

New phone. Activation woes. Three phone calls to Verizon. Dad hooked up the old Snoopy phone.

Saturday night. Les Misérables. Lots of singing. No dialogue. Stunt fall gone awry. Broken glass. How did anyone ever get far enough into the book to find a plot for a musical? A BLT. Dollar bill air force.

Church.

School.

Friendship Dinner.

Visiting Teaching.

It's not that I don't want to blog. It's that in between all the internet TV and homework, I can't seem to find the time to write and write well, which means you end up getting weird stuff like this, which I could probably pass off for poetry if this were 1923, instead of the cleverly worded anecdotes I feel you've come to expect.

The truth is, blogging is approximately 20% for you and 80% for me, to pick two arbitrary numbers that nevertheless reflect a realistic kind of distribution. I blog because I enjoy it, because piecing words together is fun, because spinning yarns is in my blood. Blogging is about playing.

I just don't have time lately.

But soon.

Soon.

Listening to: Being Human
Reading: The Subtle Knife by Philip Pullman