Cut The Frizz

The Semi-Final Countdown

2010-12-14T20:51:00.000-08:00

I have but one thing to say:

Finals.

Week.

Is.

Kicking.

My.

Butt.

I'll write a real update when [if] I survive this week.

The man in the pub.

2010-11-23T20:10:00.000-08:00

Every Wednesday night (with a few exceptions here or there when the homework load is simply too great), Connor and I go to "Dipco" (Lancaster Dispensing Company) for wing night. For those of you who don't know, Dipco is a charming Victorian pub right in the heart of downtown Lancaster. It's a favorite spot of ours. Over a couple beers (my latest favorite is a honey raspberry ale... delish!) and a dozen of their delicious wings, we'll discuss the things you would typically talk about on a Wednesday night. We talk about our classes that week, our homework load, our hopeful plans for the weekend... you know, normal stuff. Connor and I also talk about something else that perplexes us every time we're there.

There's an old man who goes to wing night all by himself every week. He's often dressed in light colored blue jeans with a neatly ironed red or blue plaid shirt tucked in to his pants and a tweed jacket hanging on the back of his chair. His beard is silvery and his jet black eyes sparkle like shards of glass in the moonlight. The man sits at a small table, often in the corner of the restaurant that sits up higher than the rest. He's always there before we arrive and leaves after we've paid the check and gone on our way. Sitting on his table are three items that are there every week, without fail: a glass of white wine (or occasionally a small pitcher of beer), a plate of wings, and an enormous book. Each week I try to strain my eyes to see what book he's reading. They're always monstrously large, a good couple thousand pages each. The man is never at the beginning of the book. He's always in the middle or somewhere towards the end. He seems to be a big fan of any sort of theory, whether it be literary or scientific. Some weeks he reads books on history, or birds. Last week his book of choice was Les Miserables and the week before that was A Tale of Two Cities. So yes, this man has impeccable taste in books.

Now up until this point, my story mostly seems like a charming story about an old man who enjoys a good book or two with his wings and wine. But there's something about him that makes me think there's more going on. When he sits at his table and looks out over the restaurant, there's a sadness in his eyes. He watches the people, follows them with those jet black eyes of his. The corners of his mouth twitch and occasionally he'll scratch his cheek or adjust his glasses higher upon his nose. But mostly, he just sits there. He sits in his chair and reads, takes a sip of wine, and watches.

Those sad eyes make me wonder. I wonder, does he have a family? Does he come to Dipco for wings because he wants some alone time before he returns home to chaos? Or does he come in order to be around people? Perhaps he's looking for an excuse to avoid another lonely night at home in a quiet, empty house. I've never seen the man smile, or hardly even talk. He speaks to the waitress when he has to, but otherwise he keeps to himself. Does he have any happiness in his life? Where does he come from? What does he do every day?

I have so many questions I want to ask the strange man. Perhaps one day I'll try to speak to him. But part of me doesn't ever want to do that. There's something wonderfully mysterious about him, that I'm almost afraid to solve. Perhaps I'll just leave it and keep on wondering about the man in the pub.

To bake or not to bake?

2010-11-16T19:04:00.000-08:00

The holidays are fast approaching so that means one thing: I finally have an excuse to BAKE! In preparation for this exciting time to arrive, I have been spending some time browsing food blogs (a favorite pastime), looking for fun, new recipes to try. I thought I'd share a few of my tasty findings with you all...

Aren't these just adorable? I can't wait to make these simple little brownie bites dipped in semi-sweet chocolate. They'd make a lovely addition to a holiday dessert platter. I'm most excited about finding clever ways of decorating them.

Sprinkles!

Made with a buttery graham cracker crust, a caramel base and pumpkin cheesecake filling, this cheesecake screams two words:

Delicious. and. Calories.

In this case, I'd say the delicious cancels out the calories.

I'd have to say this was one of my favorite discoveries in the food blogosphere today. This simple spread consists of three fantastic ingredients:

Butter.

Confectioner's sugar.

Whiskey.

(or brandy or rum)

As Julia Childs would say, "whisk the [ingredients] into submission" and serve up a dollop of the sauce on your favorite warm pie, cobbler or crisp. *smacks lips* Simply wonderful.

There's so many more recipes I could show you but my laptop already needs a mop to clean up all of this drool and I'm guessing yours does too. So sorry for salivating... I know it's terribly un-ladylike.

I had more to write about various other things but I'll save them for the next post. I'm tired and GLEE is available to watch online now, so I know where I'm headed... :)

However, I'll leave you with a question: What are your favorite things to bake over the holidays?

*All photo credit from Pioneer Woman Blog

Oh, the irony!

2010-11-05T19:38:00.000-07:00

My life is hysterical at times. Connor likes to tell me I'm accident-prone and he's definitely right about that one. I tend to attract weird, crazy, abnormal happenings. I don't really know why that is, but it's been that way since I was a kid. At least I provide ample opportunity for everyone to laugh, right?

Last Saturday, Dad and I went car shopping. We've both had it up to "here" with my stupid Jetta (I call him Sir Cantankerous) and in my Dad's words, "we aren't sinking another worthless dime into that piece of junk." It's time for a new car. Actually, it's been time for a new car, but we'll get to that in a minute.

So at 8:45am, we made our way through the lovely city of Coatesville (sarcasm, yes?) to the Toyota dealership to begin our search for a new vehicle. Mom mentioned that she would be needing to drive my car to the grocery store while we were gone, so I gave her the keys before we left. The check engine light had come on in my car the day before, but that happens from time to time, so I really wasn't worried. Besides, it had been about 40 days since the last car disaster, so I figured it was due for some trouble, due to Sir Cantankerous' record. Anyways, the search began at the Toyota dealership and Dad and I sat down to talk to a sales lady about leasing possibilities, pre-owned cars, etc. About an hour into our 'visit,' we received a phone call from Mom. Our conversation went something like this,

Mom: Sarah, I'm sitting at the gas pump at the Turkey Hill in Parkesburg and your car won't start. Is there something I'm doing wrong?
Me: *sigh* Are you serious?
Mom: Yes, Sarah. I'm serious.
Me: We're gonna have to get it towed.

Story. Of. My. Life.

The irony of my situation really amazes me. Of course, Sir Cantankerous couldn't have waited to break down until after I've purchased a new car. No, that would let me off too easily. Since then, the verdict has been an estimated near $600 bill to fix the starter (which burnt out) and a few other things related to it. No way, jose! I am not payin' that. At this point, I'm past getting frustrated about it and I am just laughing. It's simply ridiculous, all of the things that have gone wrong with this car, and of course they aren't going to stop when I decide to look for a new one!

Sir Cantankerous has certainly earned his name over the past 27 months or so that I've owned him. To shed a little light on these past 2 years and why this beloved car has made my life so full of joy and happiness:

-The air conditioner leaks onto the floor of the passenger side when I drive up hills or the temperature exceeds 98 degrees.
-If I turn my key too quickly in the key hole on the driver's side door, all of my windows will go down.
-The motor in the driver's side back window is broken and so the window slides down into the door if I don't fix it every five minutes (or after I hit a number of large potholes in a row).
-The radio remains on, even when the car is turned off. I have to manually turn it off and if I forget, the battery runs out.
-Do-Mi-Sol, Do-Mi-Sol, Do-Mi-Sol rings for a good 30 seconds after I shut my drivers side door. I suppose the car thinks it's giving me a nice serenade before I begin my drive?
-The AM radio only works if you turn it up ALL the way and even then it's hard to hear.

I could go on and on... this car is hysterical. I'm certainly not complaining though. Sir Cantankerous has been good to me and kept me safe through many a snow and ice storm on my long drives back from Lancaster. But will I miss him when he's gone? No, I don't think I will. :)

When all you want to do is run...

2010-10-05T19:54:00.000-07:00

I've always known that I am a runner. Not a runner in the athletic sense of the word (though I am striving daily to achieve that title). Instead, I mean a "runner" from problems. I flee controversy and hardship because I hate tough things. I despise hurting; whether I'm the one directly effected or I'm watching someone else hurt.

Over the past week, I have realized that there comes a time when you have to "man-up," so-to-speak and face the problems. Running from them really does no good except create more problems. I have no idea why its taken me this long to realize this. Perhaps I'm overly dense.

Watching someone you love and care about immensely, go through one of the toughest things they've ever had to deal with, really takes a toll on you, emotionally. This week has taught me that I have to put aside my own emotions and selfish desires and invest my love and care in this boy, who is hurting so much. I've failed miserably at it, at times - becoming frustrated and upset when he seems to be constantly sad and "moody." But then I think to myself - what if you were in his shoes, Sarah? How would you be acting? If I answered that question honestly, I'd know that I would be handling this situation a million times worse than he is.

I get awkward when people are sad. I don't know what to do or say. I haven't the first clue how to feel or even think. Should I be as sad as they are? Should I be happy and cheer them up? Should I change the subject? Should I ask them questions about how they feel? What should I do?! I ask myself these questions over and over and over. This week has taught me that sometimes you just need to be there. Be a warm body, with open arms. Have a smile ready to go, bring a box of tissues and a warm blanket. Sit on the couch and hold them. Love on them; show them you care, you are there, and you aren't leaving. Be selfless. I always want to fix the problem. I want to come up with an immediate answer to the predicament so we can move on to the next thing. But hardship and sadness doesn't get "fixed" with the wave of a magic wand or a snap of the fingers. It's a process. Grief is a process, healing is a process, life is a process. I can't allot an amount of "grieving" time for someone. Everyone heals differently and processes pain on a different timeline. The only thing I can do is sit, pray, love and care.

These rainy days certainly don't help our body's emotions. Staring out through the rain splashed window panes, things look bleak and uninviting. The world looks sad, gray and ugly. But we know there's sunshine out there somewhere. God has given us hope. There's hope in the little things.

Today, I looked for hope and I found it. Its not so hard to find. Hope is the yellow umbrella, sticking out like a beautiful ray of sunshine on a dark and lonely afternoon. Hope is the warm cup of tea that warms you deep into your innermost being when your whole body feels stiff and frigid. Hope is the soft cotton shirt you slide over your goose-bumped skin as your roll out of bed in the early morning. Hope is the fresh tube of toothpaste and the clean pair of socks you pull from the drawer.

There is a time for sadness, a time for grief, a time for pain. And through that, there is hope. Hope can be found, you just have to be willing to look for it.

Ten Reasons to be Incandescently Happy

2010-09-06T10:53:00.000-07:00

1. It's 76 degrees right now. Gorgeous.
2. 36 weeks to graduation! That's not that long, oh goodness!
3. My new black, lacy bra. I'm sorry to any of you who find this inappropriate, but there are some things in life that just make a girl crazy happy. New bras, panties and socks are definitely a few of those things.
4. Nutella. Need I say more?
5. I figured out how to get my car radio out of SAFE MODE, after several months of riding in silence. I was beginning to realize that my radio is a necessity - my thoughts are so very weird, when I'm in my car, all alone, driving home late at night. Just plain creepy!
6. I paid a total of $44.98 for textbooks this semester. Take that, MU bookstore! Who needs you anyway?
7. I'm in love with a wonderful guy. (South Pacific reference, anyone?)
8. The Phillies. Just because they're always a reason to be happy.
9. Fall weather means I can wear my chucks again! Connor will be so sad but I will be so happy!
10. Claritin D. Bye bye, allergies! Hello, crystal clear sinuses!

Warning: breakdown chronicles ahead.

2010-09-02T20:17:00.000-07:00

I have cried more times in the past four days than I have in the last two months combined (and that's saying something, because I've cried a LOT in the past two months). The stress of starting school never really got to me before, but for some reason, this semester is really frustrating me. Perhaps its because I'm feeling the pressure of graduating and making sure everything works the way it's supposed to so that I can get my degree and be done.

Today I walked into an english professor's office (who also happens to be my advisor, though he never remembers me). I asked him to please sign my drop/add card because I was registered for a class he was to teach, but I needed to drop it because I was enrolled for too many credits. He then proceeded to grill me on why I was dropping his class and why I was registered for his class last semester and did the same thing. I left the exchange frustrated and in tears. Why do I need to explain to him why I'm dropping a class? It's obvious - I can't take the class - so please, sir, can you just sign the drop/add card so I can be on my way? Thanks.

This little encounter was prefaced by an unbelievably lovely (note, lots of sarcasm) class with the dear (sarcasm again) Professor Shaeffer. This woman is stuck in the dark ages, I am convinced. She showed the class photos of London's architecture using an old school slide projector - you know, the hand cranked ones that make a loud, obnoxious buzz that sits in the base of your ear and feels like its rattling your brain to the core? Yes, that one. Lovely. All through the class I tried to find something to like about her, but I just couldn't. From her awful blue eye shadow to the fake bake tanning spray she uses on her already leathery skin (she's well into her 60s), nothing about Professor Shaeffer is attractive. Oh dear.

I'm not really complaining, though it sounds like I am. Rather, I'm just amazed at how different one semester is to the next, and what a different perspective I have on this year. I just want to be done. I want to work hard, get good grades and get the heck outta Millersville!

On a happy note, I sat in the car and split a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with Connor today. Something about it made me ridiculously happy. It was simple and calm. We didn't talk much, we just sat there and ate, made comments, and enjoyed one another's presence. It was nice.

More to come later... :)

Here we go again!

2010-08-27T10:39:00.000-07:00

Here I am! After a several month hiatus from the wonderful world of blogging, I have made a return. Who knows how often I'll update, but I definitely have a renewed desire to write, to document the little things that happen in life, whether it's just for me, or for others to read.

This has been a very interesting summer. Nothing went the way I'd planned, but that just proved to me once again that I make my plans but God directs my steps. It's been a major source of frustration to not have the reliable job that I'd originally planned on having; all of that falling through was really difficult - I kind of felt like I'd lost my way and didn't really have any direction to get back on track. I've had a lot of down time, opportunities to think, and really pick myself apart.

I'm excited to be going into my senior year. I can't believe I'm starting my last year of undergrad - craziness!! I'm SO looking forward to getting to school and working hard, finishing well and moving on to my next chapter in life. I really have no idea what is going to happen come May. Who knows where I'll be, but I can't wait to see where life will lead!

Eugh... the water bottle I'm drinking out of tastes like garlic. Eugh.

Catch ya later, folks!

Rolling Stone re-write #2: JONI MITCHELL

2010-03-31T16:04:00.000-07:00

Joni Mitchell: Happiness is a piece of toast

There are some people who live a life of black and white. They see right’s or wrong’s, do’s or don’ts, happiness or sadness. They see life or death, fast or slow, sunshine or rain, chocolate or vanilla, sound or silence. But then there are those who choose to see the color in life. They see the rain drops sparkle as the sun breaks through the clouds and the lavender wheat color of the countryside. They taste the green-brown color of old-fashioned licorice. They notice the single cup of coffee in a busy café and the mirrored ball spinning in the club, they dance because they have the urge. They focus on the small things, life’s little, lasting moments that make it magical. Joni Mitchell is one of these people.

Joni Mitchell has never been an outrageous character. Known for her artistic, poetic song lyrics and soft, soothing voice, Joni’s entire life is reflective of the one thing most important to her: art. Since she was a child, Joni has always been the quieter, more contemplative type. She wrote poetry and painted. Music was never an ambition of hers. “I always wanted to play music and dabbled with it, but I never thought of putting them [poetry and painting] all together,” Mitchell said. “It never occurred to me. It wasn’t until [Bob] Dylan began to write poetic songs that it occurred to me you could actually sing those poems.” After realizing this, Joni had a newly awakened interest in making music more of a priority in her life. But even then, she had no idea of the success she would later have in her career.

(Photo credit: popculturemadness.com)

Her earliest memories of singing for people took place when she was diagnosed with polio during the Canadian epidemic. At the age of nine, Mitchell was put in a polio ward over Christmas. Doctors told her she might never walk again, and she would certainly not be able to spend Christmas at home. “I wouldn’t go for it,” Mitchell said. “So I started to sing Christmas carols and I used to sing them real loud. When the nurse came into the room I would sing louder. The boy in the bed next to me you know, used to complain. And I discovered I was a ham. That was the first time I started to sing for people.” But even still, Mitchell was not aware of the gift she possessed.

Planning to go to art school her entire life, Mitchell graduated high school a year late because she was a self-proclaimed “bad student.” She was what many teachers would call a “free thinker.” “The way I saw the education system from an early age was that it taught you what to think, not how to think. There was no liberty, really, for freethinking. You were being trained to fit into a society where freethinking was a nuisance,” said Mitchell. Her teachers knew Mitchell was not a “dummy.” During math she would line the walls with ink drawings and portraits of the mathematicians she was learning about. “I did a tree of life for my biology teacher. I was always staying late at school, down on my knees painting something,” said Mitchell. Art, passion and inspiration seemed to be seeping from her veins.

Mitchell never really fit in with the other kids. She found her identity in the fact that she was a good dancer and an artist, which didn’t exactly make her popular with the cheerleaders and jocks. “Also, I was very well dressed. I made a lot of my own clothes. I worked in ladies’ wear and I modeled. I had access to sample clothes that were too fashionable for our community, and I could buy them cheaply,” says Mitchell. She would go into town immaculately dressed from head to toe. “I hung out downtown with the Ukrainians and the Indians; they were more emotionally honest and they were better dancers.” She was never worried about fitting in with the normal people. Mitchell knew what she wanted and who she liked and that was what she chased after.

One of the things that has made Mitchell’s music so popular and timeless is the un-tampered-with sound that it has. She attributes this to David Crosby who initially discovered Mitchell’s talent in a club in Coconut Grove, Florida. “Crosby, in producing that first album, did me an incredible service, which I will never forget. He used his success and name to make sure my songs weren’t tampered with to suit the folk-rock trend,” says Mitchell. Crosby wanted Mitchell to have a freshness and an honesty that was not exactly popular at the time. “[…] I wore a lot of makeup [at that time]. I think I even had on false eyelashes at the time. […] one of his [Crosby’s] first projects in our relationship was to encourage me to let go of all of this elaborate war paint [laughs]. It was a great liberation, to get up in the morning and wash your face…and not have to do anything else.” This honesty and freshness is something Mitchell has carried with her throughout her entire life.

Mitchell strongly believes that in many ways, she’s never grown up. “Sometimes I feel seven years old,” she says. “I’ll be standing in the kitchen and all of a sudden my body wants to jump around. For no reason at all. You’ve seen kids that suddenly just get a burst of energy? That part of my child is still alive. I don’t repress those urges, except in certain company.”

Her outlook on life is rather childlike as well. Not childlike in the way that she’s uninformed and innocent. But childlike in the way that, in her words, she feels like a cellophane wrapper on a pack of cigarettes. Mitchell sees her life as worth living because she is truly happy. “It’s a funny thing about happiness,” she says. “You can strive and strive and strive to be happy, but happiness will sneak up on you in the most peculiar ways. I feel happy suddenly, I don’t know why. Some days, the way the light strikes things. or for some beautifully immature reason like finding myself toast. Happiness comes to me even on a bad day. In very, very strange ways.” This is what makes Joni Mitchell a unique gem in the world. This is what makes her music raw, honest and hauntingly soothing. She lives her life as a cellophane wrapper on a pack of cigarettes and finds happiness in a slice of toast.

Living Off of the Land: How one family has become conservationists

2010-03-15T19:08:00.000-07:00

Returning from a morning of boiling and carrying sap from seventeen maple trees they tapped on their property in the Pocono mountains to their make shift sugar shack, is just one of the many outdoor activities that the Grimm children have engaged in. Whether they’re feeding the animals, checking their traps or sitting out in the woods waiting for a deer, the Grimm family is always outside doing something. Hunting has always been a significant part of the Grimm family’s life. The father, John Grimm’s love of the sport was birthed at a young age. He recalls waiting excitedly as a child for his Dad to return home from the family hunting camp. As his Grandfather’s old station wagon pulled into the driveway, Grimm vividly remembers what he saw laying in the back. “I can remember looking into the back of the station wagon and seeing anywhere from one to six or seven deer laying head first towards the tail gate, all bucks as my Father’s hunting crew only hunted bucks. I would dream of the day that I would be able to accompany my Father, Grandfather, uncles, cousins and my big brother on trips to the woods in search of deer.”

The Grimm family takes hunting seriously. When John was a child, he remembers their family hiring a cook for the week while they hunted at the camp. “We would return exhausted at days end from a very physically demanding hunt,” says John. Someone who had a hot meal prepared and waiting for them was a necessity.
The game that was shot by his family members was used to provide food for their family, hunting was never “just” a sport. “Hunting is a sport in every sense of the word,” says John. “But it never was ‘just’ a sport to me. I played sports growing up and had success at them, but hunting goes further than chasing a ball or challenging your body and mind. I hope that hunting will be a life long sport for me… and the exhilaration is multi-dimensional.” John loves the challenge of varied and unpredictable weather conditions, and game densities changing from year to year. “The only way to be successful is to know the game, the habits they practice and the weaknesses in their survival instincts and abilities,” says John. This love and passion for the outdoor sport is something Grimm has sought to pass along to his children and weave into the fabric of their family life. The Grimm family are conservationists, living on a 53-acre property in the Poconos, Pa. Growing their own vegetables, raising livestock and hunting and trapping on their property are just a few of the ways the Grimm’s are working to save money, improve their quality of life, and also enjoy the things and resources that have been given to them.

(John with a buck, Photo credit: Grimm family)

Hunting has provided a major source of food for the Grimm family. “We dress and butcher all of our own game,” says Zane, a solid, sturdy 15-year-old standing at well over 6’. Zane has learned the tricks of the trade by his Dad’s side from a very young age. “We cut or grind the meat and then wrap and store it in three outdoor freezers. We’ve also canned venison which is a delight mid-winter,” says Zane. Grimm’s wife Peg has learned to become creative and innovative with her cooking for the family. “When we don’t have beef grown on our own property, we exchange venison for any beef in a recipe,” says Peg. “One of our favorites is venison chipsteaks, which is made like Philadelphia cheesesteaks. Men especially seem to like jerky from the venison steaks, and I really like venison steaks on the grill.” Venison is a low fat meat as compared to beef, which is another benefit to cooking with it more often. Peg works hard to supply the family with hearty, healthy meals, though their menu may not reflect the cuisine of the average American. “We have made rabbit stew as well as squirrel pot pie before,” says Peg as 13-year-old daughter Meg chimes in, “the strangest dish we have made was turtle stew!”

(Zane with a turkey, Photo credit: Grimm family)

Hunting and trapping has also served as an educational experience for the Grimm family. Homeschooling all three of their children, John and Peg seek to find the lessons in life experiences for the kids. “This is an excellent way to learn observation skills of wildlife habits,” says Peg. “The details of what each of the kids experience and observe while being in the woods of plant life, wild life, fungi and tree growth, tracks etc always amazes me.” Peg admits she struggled early on with the amount of time, effort and attention that John and the kids’ hobby (now turned business venture) was eating up. Around this time, Peg decided to join her son Zane on one of his trips to check traps. A trip had to be made on the back of a four-wheeler every 24-hours out into a swamp. The Grimm’s neighbor had asked them to remove a troublesome beaver from the swamp. “My mind was boggled at how Zane knew where exactly to place the trap and then how to remember where he had put it the next day, in such an enormous swamp,” says Peg. “It was the study of the animal habits both in the outdoors and much research from books and magazines and men of good reputation in furbearer trapping that determined his work.”

The Grimm family has also learned valuable life lessons and skills as a result from their conservationist lifestyle. “Hunting and trapping has taught me a lot on the importance of patience, perseverance observation, learning from my mistakes and not giving up,” says John. The rest of the family echo that hunting and trapping has taught them patience overall.

As an additional source of income, the Grimm family has spent a significant amount of time trapping in order to sell animal pelts and other animal body parts. “You have to find a fur buyer who is the middle man for a fur auction,” says Zane. “My pelts have gone to Canada for Fur Harvesters Auction which has international buyers of furs. Your income impact depends on the fur market and economy and personal harvest numbers and fur quality.” These may seem like big statements from a fifteen-year-old, but this boy knows what he’s talking about. “My best year was sixty-eight muskrat, forty-eight beaver, and three otter which brought me about $800. The fur market and my pelt quality was really good that year,” says Zane. From a parent’s perspective, Peg loves to see success for her son and husband. “I loved seeing the completion of a successful furbearing season for Zane and John,” she says. “First, the reward of completion of a great work taste was a sense of pride and then to be compensated financially especially for a young man [Zane] for the great investment of time, effort, physical strength and study was really great.”

The Grimm’s initially became involved in the business when they were asked to do animal nuisance removal for neighbors and other landowners. Zane excitedly recalls one of his most exciting trapping experiences. “I caught two very large beaver in a neighbors’ swamp in foothold traps.” A foothold trap is designed to catch an animal by the foot. Used to restrain the animal, foothold traps are ideal because they are easy to disguise both on land and under water.

“The beaver had been putting sticks through our Conibear body gripping traps to intentionally trip the trap and avoid getting caught. It was really exciting to finally catch the beaver in footholds after so many failed attempts. Beavers are really powerful and smart animals and our traps were successful in catching and holding the beavers,” says Zane. Most of the time the Grimm’s do animal nuisance removal because the land owner has land management goals that need to be met, or some other similar reason. Zane has also trapped muskrat in the past. “At one time when fur prices were high I was averaging nine muskrats a day. That’s a personal milestone for me,” says Zane.

One of the potentially most smelly jobs that the Grimm family has been involved in was skunk removal. Before moving to the Poconos, the Grimm’s lived on a 29-acre piece of property in upstate New York, along the St. Lawrence river. Living just down the road from the Grimm’s was the Vincent family. The Vincent’s had a large variety of animals just like the Grimm’s, and were having trouble with a skunk raiding their compost pile and visitng the family cat food dish on the back porch. The Grimm’s were called in to take care of the problem. “Seven skunks later we finished the job,” says Zane. “The skunk essence [spray] was removed from the skunk and used to make a long distance call lure to bring other fur bearing animals long distance to a trap set.” So basically in non-hunting language, the skunk spray was used to attract other animals to traps that had been set. Animals such as raccoons, fox and coyote are attracted to the smell of the skunk. “Many archers use the skunk essence for a cover cent for archery hunting for deer,” says Zane. “But we do not.”

Zane takes his trapping seriously. When he lived in New York state, Zane moved a little 10x12’ shed from a camp near his home that was getting rid of them, onto his property. Zane built a functioning woodstove and working benches into the shed to use to store his furs and pelts as he got them. “We’re hopeful to build on here in Pa this summer too,” says Zane. “I’m designing the plans for a 12x12’ building with a loft for storing furs until I can sell them to the fur buyer for auction.” This 15-year-old is ambitious and has big plans that he’s not afraid to make happen.
But despite all this talk about how much they love hunting, there are elements of hunting and trapping that even outdoor conservational enthusiasts like the Grimm’s find challenging and rather un-enjoyable. “The time it takes to do it well is probably the worst part about hunting for me,” says John. “I would really like to hunt in Alaska and other states for moose and elk but the financial resources to do so are unreachable at this point.” For Evan, waking up so early in the morning and then waiting to get a shot at the animal is the worst part, while Meg thinks the boys coming home smelling like a skunk is rather miserable. Zane, the ever positive hunting and trapping enthusiast boldly claims, “I do not think there is a worst part about hunting! And I enjoy the entire process of trapping from preparing traps, scanning territory and planning, setting traps, harvesting, skinning and fleshing, preparing pelts for sale.” Quite a remarkable claim from such a young man, yet his attitude and smile when he talks about the things he loves are undeniably convincing.

(L-R: Evan and Zane pose with some recent trappings. Photo credit: Grimm family)
This lifestyle that the Grimm family has chosen to live is a way of spending special time together as a family as well as being directly reflective of many of their personal beliefs. “Time spent in close comradery with family and friends while hunting is really important to me. I’ve been able to spend a significant amount of time with my children while we do this, and I have been able to see them become very successful,” says John. “The sport of hunting is very culturally misunderstood and obviously a big target for the so-called politically correct. However, I enjoy the traditions associated with hunting and the rights that are given in the second amendment to the citizen to bear arms.” Closely tied to this is the Grimm family’s belief in God and Him as the Creator of the universe. “What I’ve learned most of all from hunting is that creation makes plain to me the greatness of the Creator, and I am so blessed to enjoy it,” says John. “Our lives exist to prove who or what we will worship. When it comes to hunting as most other forms of environment oriented activity, it is about either the Creator or the creation.” This belief in God is the foundation upon which the Grimm family builds everything else.

The Grimm family loves the outdoors and places great value in the privilege they have been given to enjoy the creation. Using the resources they have been given to provide for themselves, they will continue learning and working hard in order to provide for the family all the while strengthening their bonds between themselves, God, and the world they live in.

Rolling Stone Interview : Leonard Bernstein

2010-03-01T21:19:00.001-08:00

He was told hundreds of times that no one would ever be able to sing augmented fourths; the C to F-sharp was absolutely impossible and his musical, West Side Story would be an utter failure. The critics said no one wants to see two dead people laying onstage at the end of Act 1, what kind of musical comedy is that? However, for Leonard Bernstein, failure or defeat was never an option. Born with an insatiable desire to learn, Bernstein made opportunity open its door for him, no matter what he had to do.

(Photo Credit: Wikipedia)
At the young and impressionable age of ten was when Bernstein was first exposed to the wonder of music. He was given an old upright piano by his aunt Clara in 1928.
“I still remember, [the piano] had a mandolin pedal: the middle pedal turned the instrument into a kind of wrinkly sounding mandolin. And I just put my hands on the keyboard and I was hooked…for life,” says Bernstein. This meeting of fingers across the black and white ivory keys began a life-long love affair between Bernstein and music. “You know what it’s like to fall in love: You touch someone and that’s it. From that day to this, that’s what my life’s been about,” says Bernstein.
Hungry to learn everything he could about music, specifically the piano, Bernstein began to teach himself. With no formal training, Berstein developed his own system of harmony but soon became frustrated with his lack of knowledge and asked his father to find a teacher for him. This took some convincing, as his father was convinced there was no money in being a musician. “Neither my father [who was in the beauty supply business] nor I really knew that there was a real ‘world of music,’” says Bernstein. “My father [would] complain: ‘A klezmer you want to be?’ To him, a Klezmer [an interant musician in Eastern Europe who played at weddings and bar mitzvahs] was little more than a beggar,” says Bernstein. But despite these feelings, Berstein’s father allowed him to take his very first piano lessons from Miss Freida Karp for one dollar a lesson. Berstein absolutely adored her and he began to excel in his musical abilities, but soon began to outgrow her. Miss Karp told Bernstein’s father that he needed to attend the New England Conservatory of music; she couldn’t keep up with his Chopin ballades. His father agreed and Bernstein began to take lessons at the Conservatory by a Miss Susan Williams, who charged three dollars a lesson. Bernstein’s father was outraged and only agreed to pay a third of the cost, telling Bernstein he had to find other ways of coming up with the necessary additional funds. However, determined as ever to continue developing his musical interests, Bernstein joined a small jazz group and performed at weddings and bar mitzvahs. “I’d come home at night with bleeding fingers and two bucks, maybe, which went towards my piano lessons,” says Bernstein. The work was hard but he knew it was worth it. Unfortunately, after a bit of time passed, Bernstein realized his new teacher Miss Williams was not going to work out. “she had some kind of system, based on never showing your knuckles – can you imagine playing a Liszt Hungarian Rhapsody like that?” he says. So he moved on to a third teacher, who charged six dollars an hour. So what did Bernstein do? “I had to play more jazz,” he says. “I also started to give piano lessons to the neighborhood kids.” Bernstein found teaching piano lessons to be incredibly rewarding. “Teaching is probably the noblest…most unselfish… most honorable profession in the world,” he says. As he watched children learn, he began to develop his own philosophies about the human mind and how things are learned. “Though I can’t prove it, deep in my heart I know that every person is born with the love of learning. Without exception,” Bernstein says. Giving examples of how an infant studies its toes and fingers and a child’s discovery of its voice, Bernstein speaks with excitement about this, as he is no exception in the love of learning. “I’ve suggested that there must be proto-syllables existing at the beginnings of all languages- like ma (or some variant of it), which is almost every tongue, means “mother,” says Bernstein. Continuing on, Bernstein gives multiple examples of maternal speech in other languages including mater, madre, mutter, mat and mama. These are ideas and contemplations that Bernstein carries with him throughout his life and often references.
Bernstein did not only teach and play in jazz bands. This is not what made him so famous today. His earth-shatteringly successful musical West Side Story drastically changed the path of musical theatre. However, it was not an overnight success. This was yet another time in his life when he was forced to persevere through discouragement. “Everybody told us [Bernstein and his lyricist Steven Sondheim] that the show was an impossible project,” Bernstein says. He recalls playing four-hand parts on the piano with Sondheim to try to convey the complicated musical ideas and forms that were in the West Side Story score. Many people told Bernstein that the music was impossible to sing and that the score was too “rangy” for pop music. However, Bernstein continued to push the idea and eventually convinced Columbia Records to record the score. What a good decision this was for the record company, as the record sales ended up saving the company financially.
“I am a fanatic music lover,” says Bernstein. “I can’t liveo n day without hearing music, playing it, studying it or thinking about it.” It was this obsession, this passion, this hunger for the thing he loved so very much that kept him going in life. The determination to succeed and to learn no matter what obstacles he encountered is what made Leonard Bernstein an undeniably famous musician.

Feature Story 1: Breaking into the music business

2010-02-09T20:52:00.000-08:00

A passion for music/Engl 327/Sarah Bollenbach
The combination of beat and tone forms something that people all around the world passionately love. This ‘something’ is music. With the Grammy Awards still fresh in America’s memory, many young performers and musicians have been inspired by the performances they watched over the airwaves. For other viewers, childhood dreams of musical success have been re-awakened. Thousands of aspiring musicians have goals of becoming famous for their trade but for many, breaking into the music business is but a pipe dream; an aspiration they would love to achieve. Unfortunately, the overwhelming majority of aspiring musicians have no realistic goals in mind, let alone the tools for how to make any dreams come alive. However, taking the proper steps in the process can help turn the dream into a reality.
Musical influences early in life can have a significant effect on a person’s musical abilities and interests as they grow older. For Connor Patterson, a senior music business and technology major at Millersville University, music became a significant part of his life at a very young age.

(Photo Credit: Sarah Bollenbach)
“I was probably 3 or 4 when I got my first Casio keyboard and started making drum sets out of tissue boxes,” said Patterson. “I would listen to the radio and start playing the tunes by ear. I’d make a drum set out of empty tissue boxes and then tape pieces of paper over it to get the right sound.” These musical abilities were encouraged by his family, as he recalls many fond memories of road trips spent singing harmonies to classics by everyone from Cat Stevens to Michael Jackson, from Billy Joel to Disney show tunes. As his musical talent continued to blossom, Patterson was mentored by Dr. Gene Strayer, president of the American Guild of Organists. Dr. Strayer helped to develop Patterson’s interest in songwriting. “I used to make up music on the piano and he [Dr. Strayer] would show me new techniques to improve and whatnot,” said Patterson. Patterson will be the first to admit that he loves to put his own spin on someone else’s music; “I will always remember Dr. Strayer telling me, ‘Connor, you have to play and sing what is written. You can’t recompose everything.” But this tendency to put his own spin on something already written is one of the many things that is helping push Patterson’s career to the next level. His goal is to get his music career to the point where he can perform for several months out of the year and spend the rest of his time composing new music and collaborating with other artists. Patterson encourages other aspiring musicians to do what he’s doing; “find something that sets you as the performer apart from anyone else. If you sound like Dave Matthews, that’s great, but you have to find a way to make you sound like you, nobody wants to just hear another Dave Matthews, they want to hear something that takes some of what Dave Matthews is good at, like lyrics and incorporate that into what they’re good at as an individual.” Booking and performing gigs in any city he can is something else Patterson is working on doing, and creating new business ventures that will help him get his name out into the musical world. “I’m building websites, a myspace, recording demos of my music, stuff like that. I’m trying to meet as many people as I can and also trying to learn as many styles as I can to improve my marketability,” said Patterson. Over and over, young musicians will say the best way to become established in the music scene, whether it’s local or national, is to take as many opportunities as possible.
Matt Wilson, also a senior music business and technology major at Millersville University says he rarely turns down a gig if he’s asked to perform.

(Photo credit: Cathleen Gemmell)
“I try to play as many gigs as possible. Exposure is worth as much as money,” says Wilson. “I try to make as many connections as possible and I also try to create good relationships with people too- you never know who knows who.” Establishing relationships and making a good impression is key to an artist’s success. A composition major at West Chester University, Danny Lawson is seeking to get his music out into the scene as well.

(Photo Credit: Danny Lawson)
“I take every opportunity I receive to write new music. If someone needs a piece for a recital, I offer. If I know a friend is making a film, I ask if they need a score,” says Lawson. “I also try to create my own ‘name outing’ events. I had an idea to start a collaboration between the composition and the dance departments at WCU. So, I went for it and it was a total success!” Lawra Gudgeon, a scarf wearing, tea drinking, indie-music loving, hippie at heart also has goals of getting into the music business, though she has not made as much of an effort at booking gigs.

(Photo Credit: Lawra Gudgeon)
“I’ve been taking local gigs at conferences, and word-of-Mouth has definitely been the best way for me-- you get better recommendations, better gigs, etc,” says Gudgeon. For Gudgeon, stepping into the music business is slow and steady, but she is ok with that for right now.
For some young artists, even the idea of booking a gig is a daunting and seemingly impossible task. Wilson has a great deal of experience in this field. He excels at playing the piano and singing and has become a regular performer on not only the Lancaster bar scene but in surrounding cities, including a recent performance at Pittsburgh’s Hard Rock Café. “It’s very important to have a press pack if you want to book a gig,” said Wilson. “You’ll need a photo, biography of yourself or your band and a demo of your music. Once you send them to venues, it’s crucial to be really persistent about calling them to follow up. Most venues have a pile of press packs from a lot of bands, so you need to be the one to get their attention.” Something that is important to realize is that the music business is full of rejections. Every single musician will encounter rejection at some point in their musical career. This is something Danny is well aware of. “Be open to and learn how to take criticism. Be okay with rejection.” Eric Whitacre, the famous contemporary choral composer had three of his most well-known works rejected the first few times he tried to get them published. “Every musician goes through rejection; it refines us,” said Lawson. “Dream huge: it’s over-said, but it’s true. If you don’t try to do anything big, you never will.”
So, booking gigs and playing as many concerts and meeting as many people as possible seems to be the standard advice given by young musicians so far. But Patterson and Wilson still have yet another strategy of marketing their name. Meeting at Millersville University, the two music majors quickly became friends and realized how much they had in common.

(Photo Credit: Cathleen Gemmell)
Now, several years into their school careers, Patterson and Wilson have started their own business called Clover Hill, affectionately named after the street that Wilson grew up on. “Right now, Clover Hill is simply a marketing firm which does viral and multimedia marketing strategies for performing and visual artists,” says Wilson. “The idea came from being approached by an old director of mine looking to market his music. We hope to expand Clover Hill to running a staff, and eventually owning a brewery with a music venue, someday opening five venues worldwide. We also hope to own a management firm as well as a publishing house later down the road.” Wilson and Patterson have big dreams and are doing everything they can to make them happen.
For all four of these artists, music is an integral part of their lives. Without it, they would not be who they are. “Music is something that I’ve always enjoyed doing,” says Wilson. “I play by ear, so it can be like a sonic puzzle that I have to put together. It’s easy to forget what’s going on around me and just focus on the keyboard in front of me. Music can also really take my mind off of life. It’s therapeutic to just sit down, play piano and sing.” For Gudgeon, music communicates something that she often can’t find the words to express; “Music can say what so many can't verbalize for themselves; it plays out their emotions, challenges their thoughts, and (if it's truly great music), can change their lives,” she comments. Who wouldn’t want to be involved in something that could do that? “Just as much as we all can hear that 'soundtrack of our lives' playing in the back of our heads every day (admit it: we all do that), it's so important what songs are being played under the events of our lives,” says Gudgeon. “The music we listen to reflects who we are. At the same time, who we are is really a reflection of our music.” Music is something that can impact both the performer and those around them. Lawson sees music as his life and breath; “I cannot live without it because it cannot live with me. I am the reflector, the crafter. It, or at least its essence, needs to be released. Music needs me, just as I need music.”
The performer has to love the music. Launching a career in today’s competitive music industry is not easy. Every artist testifies that success takes hard work and perseverance. Musicians have to have a tough skin and be willing to take rejection in any form, but when success is found and goals are reached, the feeling is magical. Lawson leaves with one final thought; “Make music because you love it. Make music because you have to in order to live. Any other motivation will turn out to be sour. Make music for you.” With this mindset, and taking the steps to market a name, musicians will be taking quick steps closer to their goals of being an active member of the music industry.

Links for Lancaster, PA music booking venues:
http://www.quipspub.com - This is a pub, always hopping with people, they love good, well-known, feel-good music.
http://www.dispensingco.com - A new band every Saturday night!
http://www.princestreetcafe.com - This venue tends to book more acoustic, jazz, singer-songwriter type musicians, rather than full bands.
http://www.lancasterarts.com/firstfridays - Lots of opportunities for musicians to book both indoor and outdoor gigs.

Professor Foster - 5 Potential topics for Feature Writing stories

2010-02-05T19:15:00.000-08:00

Professor Foster - 5 potential topics for stories:

1. How a local couple in my church is helping kids in Haiti recover from the earthquake.
2. The benefits of Twitter and how people are using it in a myriad of ways.
3. An interview of Donna Kasuska about her arts academy, Sara Rose Academy of the Arts. Discuss what her mission is for working with kids, what her academy offers, and what impact she has made on the Delaware Valley.
4. Chester County Women's Services; exploring what their services offer to the community, interview girls who have been helped, interview the owner and director, etc.
5. Growing up in a Little League household; the benefits of organized sports for kids.

Profile on Meg Kerr

2010-01-19T16:47:00.002-08:00

Feature Writing/Magazine Journalism

19 January 2010

Megan Kerr: Millersville visits South Africa

Some individuals are born with the drive to succeed and make things happen. This is just the case for Megan Kerr, a senior PR major and biology minor at Millersville University. A transfer student from Chestnut Hill college, Megan has made the most of her time at Millersville by doing whatever it takes to make her credits count and cause every opportunity that Millersville offers to become available to her.

Spring semester of her junior year, Megan boarded the long flight to study for a semester in South Africa. “I was the only student to go from Millersville, so I went all alone. It was kinda scary, but I was so excited!” comments Megan. Suitcase and passport in hand, Megan braved the unknown and jumped full-force into the South African culture.

(Megan poses with a small child she met in South Africa.)

When asked what her most memorable South African experience was, Megan immediately replied, “Great White Shark cage diving!” Dressed in a wet suit, she and several other students took a boat out into an area famous for attracting visits by Great White’s called "Shark Alley." Megan explained that blood and meat is dumped into the water, while everyone sits and waits until the sharks arrive. As soon as the sharks swam into the area, Megan was lowered into a cage and was able to use a snorkel mask to peer down into the ocean. Unfortunately though, this did not go as smoothly as it should have. Upon entering the water, Megan realized that she had too many weights on her body and her wetsuit had a rip in the leg, exposing her flesh to the Great White's. Realizing both of these things, she panicked. Quickly, Megan tore the weights off and threw them into the boat. Finally, she able to calm down and enjoy watching the three different beautiful Great White Sharks swim beneath her. Despite the rocky start to her adventure, watching these beautiful, powerful creatures in their natural habitat made the entire experience more than worth it for Megan.

Megan comments that, "visiting South Africa was one of the most incredible things I've ever done and ever will do. I feel like the entire experience was so awesome, I can never do anything that will be better than that!" She learned about people, experienced a foreign culture, made new memories, and helped make a difference in other peoples’ lives. Its incredibly fitting that Megan's name in the South African native language is Khumbula, which means “Remember.” Without a doubt, Megan certainly will remember her amazing six months spent in South Africa.

2010-01-19T16:47:00.001-08:00

FYI to my readers, I'll be posting school assignments on my blog this semester, as its a requirement for my Feature Writing & Magazine Journalism class.

2009-11-10T08:36:00.000-08:00

I love listening to librarians help confused students. Someday I'm going to do that, and when I'm in my sixties, I'm going to be a librarian who hosts story hour every Thursday morning. We'll read books like Peter Pan, Where the Wild Things Are, and Go Dog Go. We'll have a snack of Goldfish in plastic dixie cups and drink Juicy Juice out of those cute miniature juice boxes. It'll be fantastic.

A favorite pastime (probably not the best word to use but it'll work) is dragging my feet through the leaves as I walk across campus. Perhaps it's unlady like to drag your feet, but hearing the crunch is so worth it.

I really hate the way the Millersville Subway makes you smell like onions. Have you guys ever heard of Febreeze? Or maybe Glade Plug-Ins?

The accepted abbreviation for chicken parmesan is chicken parm, is it not? Apparently my friend John finds it offensive. If I tell him to deal is that too harsh?

I sat in the SMC computer lab for ten minutes re-typing my log-in over and over and over until I realized that the error messages I kept receiving weren't my problem; the SMC servers were down.

My ear itches. Sorry if that grosses you out, its a statement of fact.

A new personal goal is to strive to love God more passionately and for Him to play a greater role in my daily thoughts. I've always had this goal, and worked towards achieving it - but today marks a new resolve to do so.

2009-11-05T08:15:00.000-08:00

there is a boy in Yankees attire in the computer lab. he struts with an attitude that could give A-Rod a run for his money. is it bad that i kind-of hate him?

strawberry PopTarts have a way of making a crappy morning a little better.

yesterday was rough. today has been a challenge. not sure what God's trying to teach me, but i want to learn. maybe He's just trying to kick some of my selfish tendencies out of me. i could use that.

oh, life.

2009-10-18T18:37:00.001-07:00

oooh, somethin's coming. somethin' gooooood.

2009-10-07T17:15:00.000-07:00

happiness is so many things.

i am experiencing many of them.

:)

2009-09-19T15:01:00.000-07:00

have you ever driven past a house that seems to be screaming, "come inside, sit down in this chair, listen to me, i have such stories to tell you," ?

someday i'm going to live in a house that has a story to tell.

the panels that comprise its wrap-around porch will creak as if to say "we have seen so many visitors in our time." the once vibrant paint will be chipped and faded, almost forming its own language. not a legible language that we humans can read, but one that only the house can read and tell. a language that tells a story.

leading up to the house will be a lane. not one of sharp, modern pavement but constructed of simple dirt and stone; the old-fashioned way. lining this lane will be weeping willow trees, bowing across to form a lush canopy, as if in honor of the beauty that surrounds them. at the end of the lane will stand a single yellow mailbox. not that ugly neon color that the teenagers wear these days, but a soft, inviting yellow. picture in your mind, a field of mustard flowers, sprinkled with a dusting of paprika and mixed together with an enormous wooden-handled paintbrush; that will be the color of my mailbox. the pole the yellow mailbox rests upon will be rusted and bent, as it has been there for many years and weathered many storms.

there will be many windows in my house, allowing the warmth of the sun to fill every nook and cranny. in the mornings, the rays will beat in, casting a magical glow that seems to say "this is what the glow of pixie dust looks like, my little dreamer."
my kitchen will be one of love. this room will be cheery and bright, welcoming all who enter. it will be noisy, always a-bustle with the liveliness of people young and old. the food will tell stories; recipes passed from generation-to-generation, with a touch of new life splashed in for good measure. fresh fruits and vegetables will always be plentiful, keeping the body healthy and happy.
the bedrooms will be havens for my children, places they can spend time learning about themselves and the world around them. the rooms will be their own spaces, with the freedom to decorate and discover as they choose.

this structure that will be mine someday will not simply be a house, but it will be a home. it will be filled with my boy, my children, and welcome to all. it will be a free and non-judgemental place, a haven for learning and discovery. hikes will be taken, paintings will be created, music will be made. evenings will be spent playing games and reading the classics, gathered around the tv watching the Phillies or an old black-and-white classic. laughter will fill every corner, and conversation will never be sparse.

someday, i will have such a house. a home. a home that posesses an entire book of stories. i will make my own story to add to this book. a story of love, of faith, of happiness, of discovery, of creativity, of wonder.

2009-09-10T20:54:00.000-07:00

the semester has begun.

2009-08-23T19:30:00.001-07:00

i'm writing again. i am.

and so far it only [kinda] sucks.

yes.

2009-08-14T21:29:00.001-07:00

Its been a good past couple of days.

Wednesday: Dinner at home with just Dad and watching the Phillies game.
Thursday: 500 Days of Summer with John and hot tub at Alex's.
Friday: Pasta, ice cream cake, Yuengling and Highschool Musical with Jon Stone.

In other news, I bought a classy pencil skirt today. It makes me feel like a sexy librarian; you know, a librarian like they always describe in those mystery novels with really coy titles. [giggle]. I also bought a lovely bohemian shirt that makes me feel exotic and a delicious pink, blue and black plaid scarf that screams "hello, i'm artsy."

I also plan on incorporating a character who is obsessed with champagne colored furniture into my next short story. Just thought you'd like to know.

2009-08-11T18:57:00.000-07:00

i want to write. i need to write. i have a million ideas for a story swarming around in my head but none of them make sense.

i'm afraid to write. what if i write what's swarming around in my head and once its on paper i hate it?

i need to conquer this. i'll never get better if i don't write.

i need to write.

2009-08-06T22:51:00.000-07:00

the time is 1:52am. i am alone in the house, the family returns tomorrow after being away for the week. the house keeps making weird noises, so i am writing to get my mind off of being freaked out.
relationships have been on my mind a lot lately. often this can be a frustrating, stressful, annoying, bothersome [insert multiple more adjectives that i don't feel like typing right now] subject to mull over. but lately, its been quite the contrary.
a thought struck me a bit ago that i've never really thought about. so often, i get caught up in what i want in a guy. "what's my ideal man?" i ask myself. its a good thing to think about - its healthy and wise to know what i hope for in a boy someday. but something i also need to think about is what am i doing to make sure i am the girl that will be for that boy someday? am i doing my part in growing to be the godly young woman that i need to be? i want a godly boy, someone who loves the Lord more than anything else - so am i making sure i am the kind of girl he would want?
i'm happy where i am right now. i'm ok with not having a boyfriend. i'm ok with a random date here or there, and having lots of friends [both boys and girls]. i am enjoying the independence. but i know someday i want a boy of my very own. one boy to cook fun organic food for. one boy to fold his socks for and iron his shirts. one boy to watch baseball with and sing corny songs with the windows down. one boy to read the Bible with and to pray on our knees. one boy to raise a family of little ones with. one boy to cry with, to laugh with, to make memories with. one boy of my very own to be right by his side.
i can't wait for that day. but until then, i am happy, i am content. i know God's timing is perfect, and until that perfect time, i will seek to become that girl for that one boy.

[someday, i'll be that girl.]

2009-07-22T20:53:00.000-07:00

i am thoroughly convinced that one can taste all of summer in a single bite of watermelon.

2009-07-16T19:29:00.001-07:00

my mom said i need to be home more. its not like i haven't wanted to be home, but sometimes its so easy to just get caught up in your own schedule that you forget about the people you love most. its awful, but true.

so, in light of that conversation with mom, i have made an effort to be home this week and spend time with my family. the time at home has resulted in a a bit of a cooking and baking spree. so far its been peach cobbler, pizza and mango black bean salsa. delish. tomorrow promises experimenting with making my own hummus and also some amazing homemade granola. i'm pretty excited.

being home is nice. you realize that you don't have to be out being crazy with your friends every night. sometimes just being home, around your family, laughing at episodes of Family Matters or screaming at the tv as Chase Utley hits a home run, or sitting around the table discussing how your day at work was; sometimes those times are the very best, the very sweetest times of all.

2009-07-11T19:12:00.000-07:00

What makes a mind-blowingly perfect night?

Seeing an unbelievable performance of Les Miserables with one of your very best friends at the Fulton. Listening to Rent and Muse on your drive home and singing at the top of your lungs. Drinking wine and listening to music by candlelight outside. Watching a double feature of Father of the Bride and My Big Fat Greek Wedding, curled up on the couch with a blanket [plus another glass of wine, of course]. And all of this, spent with one of your very closest friends.

Yes. This makes a mind-blowingly perfect night.

2009-06-09T18:14:00.000-07:00

i sat on the beach, cozily wrapped in the hoodie i have yet to return to jonah [he won't mind, will he?]. the wind picked up just enough to make the air fresh and to brush a mist from the ocean across my exposed skin. i put my ipod in my ears and listened to Barber's Adagio for Strings as the big orange moon rose above the water.

this, my friends; this is a moment i live for.

2009-05-21T15:22:00.001-07:00

i love lots of things...

i love the way sunscreen reminds me of the beach.

i love ryan seacrest.

i love breyer's vanilla bean ice cream.

i love steven and noah for all the time they've put into making my computer healthy again.

i love the frilly, girly, anne of green gables-esque shirt i just bought at forever21.

i love playing scrabble with way too many people than the game is designed for [and scoring big with words like "quota," "glitz" and "sexy"].

i love sitting in a dark field with friends under a sparkling sky of stars and singing worship songs til late at night.

i love movie nights with jonah and his hoodie that he lets me borrow all the time.

i love margie for giving me a second job [God answers prayer].

i love seeing old friends in the mall and making new ones when you least expect it.

i love leaving anonymous notes on friends' cars.

i love sitting in the living room with mom and dad, talking about the funny things that happen to us in life between mouthfuls of freshly popped pop corn.

i love cathleen and the fact that no matter what, she is there [always].

i love getting random phone calls from noah and the funny things we talk about [and of course the "later helga" that ends each conversation].

i love the steady, predictable sound of my fan humming away in the window.

i love watching mary drive away in her old man car and oversized sunglasses.

i love watching old marilyn monroe flicks with cax and anne and eating garlic bread pizza ridiculously late at night.

i love steven's iced coffee and pam's amazing banana bread with cream cheese filling [they make work a happier place].

yes, these are a few of the things i love.

2009-05-19T14:32:00.001-07:00

do you ever get that really scary gut feeling that you're going to end up marrying the guy you swore you'd never date?

[yeah].

2009-05-17T22:12:00.000-07:00

Mediocre. I hope that my name and that term never appear in the same sentence enless they are referring to the level of skill that I posess in the field of mathematics. And even then they would not belong because to say that I am mediocre in mathematics is like saying that Hugh Jackman is an ugly man. It is simply not true; each of the previous statements are a falsehood. I wish I was mediocre in mathematics; that would be several levels up from what I am at this present moment.

But that is beside the point of what I am trying to say.

I wish to lead an elaborate life. I do not mean elaborate in the way that many might take that; eating in a stuffy dining room off of fine china each night and shopping at Saks Fifth Avenue on a bi-weekly basis.
I mean elaborate as in learning to embrace and make the most of the moments and experiences in life that come to us for such for such a short time. That sounds rather cliche and perhaps it is. If the cliche truly bothers you, click the little X in the corner of your screen and you'll be rid of my sappy babble. Otherwise, humor me for a few more sentences.

On a regular, never-ending basis, I [we] am faced with choices, with opportunities, with decisions. Some are bigger than others. Will I wear a pink shirt or a blue shirt? Should I stop at Wawa and buy the cup of coffee I've been craving all day or safe that $1.89 for something I really need? Should I switch my major to something I enjoy more even though its less practical? Should I date this person?

It is easy to just take these moments that face us in life as normal, everday, predictable decisions. Recently, I have been reminded of the importance of every decision we make in life. This is not to be one of those posts that is to revolutionize the way you think about your life. But it is a nice reminder of the fact that just because things become routine in life does not mean they do not hold importance and significance.

The moments in life when you're out on your friend's trampoline at 11:30 at night? Embrace that; its a memory. Those thirty minutes you have with the little five-year-old who climbs into your lap and wants nothing else than to just snuggle? Embrace that; they'll remember. The sore back you get from bending over and picking up the endless array of popcorn kernels from the floor at church? Embrace that; that simple act is blessing someone else. The time he feels like his life is a failure and you know what Bible verse he needs to hear? Embrace that; God will use you.

Living a life of mediocre moments is like gazing at a pond covered in a layer of scum that continues to thicken as the hot summer days yawn past; uninspiring and nauseating. Instead, I seek to live an elaborate life; one that embraces the little moments and finds some way to make them sparkle and glisten like the clear waters of a fresh water pond.

2009-05-15T07:05:00.000-07:00

observations and happenings from the past few days:

1. jonah and i discovered an unbelievably talented band from PA. they're called Halestorm. if you ever want to hear power chords and vocals, you've found the band. [they're especially good with the windows down and the radio blasting as you drive down South Street in Philly :-p]

2. gregg says: i touched your shoulder as if to say, 'we're still good buddies.' [i love him.]

3. boys who wear watches often drive old school cars and wear glasses. i like those boys.

4. at 7:00 this morning i was driving ashley to the philly airport. we were listening to 98.1 WOGL [one of the best radio stations ever], and a song had just finished playing. i randomly began to sing the opening line of "stay'in alive" by the beegees and not two seconds later, what song came on? "stay'in a live" by the beegees. how weird is that?

5. the movie Juno has the best soundtrack ever. i am blown away every time i hear it. how can one soundtrack be so good?

6. yesterday we bought the most amazing cheese in the entire world at the cheese shop in the Italian Market on 9th street. i wish i could remember the name of it.

7. i have become a pro at instructing my friends on how to order a Geno's Philly cheesesteak the proper way. if you need educated, just give me a buzz. it's an art.

8. i'm pretty sure ashley and i have consumed a record amount of junk food and amish rootbeer in the past 6 days. we should win a prize or something.

9. jonah and i sat in their music studio and talked about the greater things of life while listening to old cheesy songs that he wrote years ago. those are my favorite times with friends.

10. this weather makes me want to put on a sundress and go picnicking in a meadow.

2009-05-08T23:07:00.001-07:00

have you ever loved and cared about someone so much that it causes your insides to ache?

yeah.

2009-05-05T19:48:00.000-07:00

I think God is teaching me patience.

I wish He would hurry up.

.[smile].

2009-05-04T11:19:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was a delicious day.

You know those days where you can tell that nature is bowing to the Glory of God? Cruising along in my junky little VW, I admired the lush green hue of the trees as I drove to church. You could almost hear the trees singing their praises to the Heavens as they were kissed by the gentle pitter patter of raindrops falling from the charcoal sky.

Church was amazing in every single way. Sometimes you feel like Jesus is sitting right next to you, whispering in your ear, "that was meant for you," after every single sentence that is preached. Those times where you feel the Holy Spirit so tightly wrapped around you that there is a warmth; a tangible warmth that you can't help but feel. It's so warm, so cozy, so safe. You never want Him to let you go. Never, ever. Yesterday was one of those days.

The early part of my afternoon was a conglomeration of fried chicken, laughter and Highschool Musical 3. I drove home listening to the Beatles, and wishing I could have been one of those adoring, screaming, pigtail wearing, pre-pubescent girls back in the day.

At home, my house was filled with roughly forty people... so many children, and laughing adults... so much noise! It was wonderful. I love coming home to utter chaos. I spent quality time with my brother and trecked back to West Chester. I'm sure many people thought I was a grandma driver... I took every turn at about 10mph because my tires are bald and the roads were covered in water. I really need to take Sir Cantankerous into the shop for some work.

The rest of my evening consisted of showtunes around the piano, recalling childhood memories with close friends, ooh-ing and ahh-ing over Barbara Streisand's voice in Funny Girl and learning that some people are brought into your life to bring you the most amazing joy and the biggest challenges, all in one moment.

Yes, yesterday was a good day.

I have absolutely nothing to do today. Nothing. I have not felt this way since Monday, January 12th. What an unbelievably odd, yet strangely wonderful feeling. So what shall I do? I believe I will do things like drive to the library and take out a ridiculously large stack of books. I'll set it on my end table so that every morning and night I'll be reminded that I only have a few weeks left in summer and I must get them all read. I'm going to brew myself a pot of loose-leaf tea and curl up in my bed. Perhaps I'll turn on Oklahoma! and watch Hugh Jackman be the most amazing "Curly" in the world. Yes, that is what I shall do today.

Oh summer, how I love you.

2009-05-01T14:07:00.000-07:00

i am DONE finals. done. done. done. best feeling EVER.

despite the relief, it's been a weird week. strange relationship things going on. strange emotional things going on. and on top of it all, i have been having a hard time sleeping and have hardly eaten anything. all of that is probably connected in a weird way.

oh well, thank God for coffee and tea. these substances keep one alive. :)

2009-04-27T10:48:00.000-07:00

today...

i took five finals in a ten-hour time span.

there was a boy in the library who looked like a young tom cruise. he asked a girl who was obviously just an acquaintance what color her eyes were. no, he didn't get her number.

i fell asleep on a wooden bench in the music building.

the cute hippie boy at turkey hill was taking out the trash. i want to be friends with him. he looks like he would be a good pal.

i laughed at my piano prof when i walked into her office to see her drinking tea out of a china tea cup and snacking on chocolates and cookies. she is my favorite.

yup. it was a good day.

2009-04-25T13:35:00.000-07:00

Based on an assessment of my current situation, I should be having a complete mental and emotional breakdown right now. I should be sitting on my bed, crying, wishing that it all could just be over right now.

But I'm not. I'm calm. Almost eerily calm. I'm drinking water, not coffee. I have a neat and tidy to-do list. I'm taking things one step at a time, and slowly but surely getting things done. This worries me. I shouldn't be calm. I'm never calm during finals week. EVER.

In other news, last night I tapped my pen against Jonah's beer bottle and I guessed that the tone produced was an F-natural. I ran over to the piano, and it was! When I triumphantly returned with news of my discovery, he proceeded to simply shake his head and say, "sarah, you're such a nerd." I should start counting how many times I am told that every week. I could probably set a record.

I've also recently discovered that my bathroom fan hums a B-flat and our vacuum is an A-natural. Life is music, my friends.

Ok... back I go to my calm study habits. I'm starting to creep myself out.

2009-04-21T18:51:00.000-07:00

if i believed in karma, today would have been my affirmation that it truly exists.

as i drove down strasburg road, i was thinking to myself how wonderful it is that i haven't run over any animals in quite a long time.

and literally just as i was thinking that, a squirrel ran out in front of my car, and the poor little fur ball met his untimely death beneath the spinning wheels of my VW.

i didn't look back to see if his tail was waving in the breeze.

poor little squirrel.

2009-04-20T22:38:00.000-07:00

last night i was vulnerable and scared.

last night i laughed to keep from crawling into a little ball and crying.

last night i sat on couches and listened to music with people that i love.

last night i talked in a phony british accent because doing so was more fun than just being sarah.

last night i wondered how i was going to do it all.

today i drank tea.

today i blocked out distractions.

today i smiled because i couldn't help myself.

today i was encouraged.

today i relied on HIS strength.

today.... yes, today was a good day.

2009-04-19T11:29:00.000-07:00

Today's sermon in church reminded me of a dream I've always had. Jim was speaking, and expressing the extreme boredom he experiences when visiting museums. "I usually whiz through them in about 11 or 12 minutes," was his comment.

This reminded me of something I have always wanted to do. I'm definitely pulling a "NERD" card on this one, but I have always wanted to design museums as a career. The museums I design would not be boring, however. They would be fun, exciting, interactive museums in which the visitor leaves feeling inspired and satisfied that they had just used several hours of their time in a profitable manner.

Someday... maybe I'll get to design a museum. Maybe.

2009-04-17T09:00:00.000-07:00

observation: school buses are the same color as the yellow lines on the road. i never noticed that before.

disgust: today i drove past a dead squirrel on the road. its tail was waving in the breeze. *shudders*

edit: i stood at rocco & anna's for 45 minutes, waiting for my pizza. got a 1/2 price coupon out of it. score.

2009-04-16T18:35:00.000-07:00

i'm here. i've missed it, and i'm back. back to the world of sharing the random experiences and thoughts that comprise my daily life with you poor, unsuspecting souls.

i have a feeling noone will read this. strangely, i'm perfectly fine with that. i think i'm doing this more for myself than anyone else. is that selfish? i wonder.

i suppose i ought to explain why my blog is "the yellow mailbox." i think i'll do that some other time.