But not that Oprah. She started reading when she was 3 years old, around the same time she started pulling random words out of her hat and shocking us all. One of her favorite things was opera, except that she never called it opera. She read it as Oprah. Anytime "oprah" would come on, she'd just sit there and listen to her heart's content. One morning I woke to the sound of the Queen of the Night aria coming from Rachel's room. She had turned the computer on, loaded Napster (yeah, I used it) and decided that she wanted to listen to a little Magic Flute. At 3 years of age. That's my girl.
So tonight after watching Survivor (hallelujah, the whiny baby left and Asymmetrical Boob Job Woman got voted off) I flipped the channel to Live From Lincoln Center and...
Lo!
Behold!
Madame Butterfly! Hooray!
Oh, crap, it's the last 10 minutes. I paused the T.V. and gave Rachel the skinny on the story: US guy goes to Japan, falls in love with Butterfly, Butterfly has strapping son, US guy goes back to US, Butterfly stays true to her US guy, US guy comes back with a new wife, and now he wants his son. I didn't tell Rachel the very ending. I wanted it to be a moving experience. The last time I remember watching Madame Butterfly, I wasn't actually watching it. I was watching my mom and older sisters bawling. (Mom had to point out that the stage was "that way.") Anyway, I was totally hyping up the last scene - "This is the most famous opera scene, Rachel," and "This is one of the most famous arias, Rachel." Yeah. Butterfly picks up the knife, gets ready to do the deed, and Rachel says, "She's gonna kill herself!" I told her to be quiet and watch. Butterfly's son comes running in and immediately the tears start flowing. Aaugh! One of the most beautiful, moving songs EVER! Butterfly walks her son to stage right, sits him down and puts a blindfold on him. She grabs the knife, and all of a sudden I hear, being whispered under her breath,
"Do it, do it, do it, do it."
"RACHEL!!!"
Man, I can't wait to take her to Don Giovanni next month.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Monday, March 17, 2008
Oops, I forgot...
I was going to post my favorite story ever. Here it is.
“Rod, sit down. There’s something I need to tell you. We need to get married…”
“I know.”
“No, I don’t think you understand. We need to get married…”
“Right now,” he interrupted.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Was it true that the person sitting next to me on the park bench was really feeling the same way? After all, Rod and I were just friends from work, only having known each other for about 4 months. I was waiting for an LDS missionary, and had only spent the past week really, truly getting to know Rod.
I had to gather my thoughts. It was late. I was in the middle of a small-time animal sanctuary in Logan, UT. Peacocks were squawking behind me, monkeys were jumping around in their cages in front of me. It was warm, but my body was shivering. Not exactly the best setting to be discussing something like an immediate marriage.
“You’re not just saying that, are you?” I asked.
“No, Sarah, I’m not. It’s like I had this feeling come over me just now,” he said. “I wasn’t thinking about marrying you until this very moment.”
“That is so weird, because I wasn’t thinking about marrying you at all.”
Brutal words, yet honest. I wasn’t planning on marrying anyone.
I looked at my watch. 9pm. My mind was racing. So many thoughts flooded my brain: What now? Where would we go? Where would we live? Did I really just commit to marry someone I had only dated for a week? What would my best friend, on a mission in Kentucky think? Oh, crap! My PARENTS! My family! What would they do? I couldn’t handle it.
“I’ve got to go home and gather myself.”
“Then let’s go,” answered Rod.
We hopped in my Honda CRX and headed for my house. The short drive across town felt like an eternity. The silence was so thick it felt as if cotton balls were in my ears and mouth, blocking anything from being said or heard. I couldn’t understand why I was feeling this wave of emotion. Nerves, perhaps, but it wasn’t set in stone. There was to be no marriage. Yet.
I invited Rod inside to discuss the matter further. I had no idea what he was thinking and needed to pick his brain. We went to my room, closed the door, sat down on the bed and started discussing the situation at hand.
“Do you still feel the same?” I asked.
“It’s only been an hour, Sarah,” he responded, “What about you?”
“No change. I know we need to do this,” I said. “It’s just a little easier said than done.”
We talked about our living arrangements, work arrangements, and the like. I asked Rod what his family would say. He assured me they would be fine. I had actually met his entire family the day before, when I was invited to a celebration of his cousin’s son’s birth. He asked about my family, and I quickly changed the subject. I didn’t want to think about it. Nobody in my family even knew Rod existed. We decided that I’d move in with him, 30 minutes away in Preston, Idaho, where he grew up. We’d keep working at the same company, and just take life one day at a time.
I looked at the clock. 11:30pm. I wasn’t tired in the least bit. The adrenaline pumping through my veins could have supplied the U.S. Olympic Track Team with surplus. I started cleaning my room furiously, hoping that the busy work would calm my nerves. I still wasn’t committed to following through, and couldn’t compute my anxiety and nervousness. Rod sat quietly on my bed. I looked at him, hung the last shirt in the closet, and sat down next to him.
“Ok, let’s do this,” I quietly stated. “How much money do we have?”
“I have about $100 on me,” he said.
“I have about $50, so let’s just go. Let’s go to Vegas,” I said.
We got up. I grabbed my keys and noticed the time. 2:30am.
If the drive across town seemed to take forever, the drive from Logan to Las Vegas should have seemed like an eternity. The whole way down we discussed our individual dreams and aspirations, politics, religion, how to raise a family, and what we wanted to accomplish together. We watched the sunrise as we crossed the border into Nevada. Could time have really passed that quickly? Our conversation continued until we pulled into Las Vegas.
I took the off ramp I felt would yield the best selection for wedding chapels: Tropicana. The Strip. The heart of Sin City. It couldn’t be that hard to find a wedding chapel, could it?
My ability to read must have been temporarily suspended because I drove by about 5 before Rod pointed and said, “That looks like a good one.”
There, on my left, was a little cream and brown building. It made me think of a Swiss cottage, like something you’d see in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. I looked at the sign: The Wee Kirk O’ the Heather. Interesting. It’d have to do.
I parked the car in the side lot and got out to survey the area. It was hot. Really hot, considering it was only 9:30 in the morning. I knew I was doing the right thing. The ball forming in my stomach would have to be ignored.
We walked up to the front door and saw a sign that read: PLEASE RING BELL. Rod took the courtesy and we patiently waited. An older, mysterious-looking man opened the door and peeked his head out.
“We’re here to get married,” Rod announced.
“Come on in,” said the man.
We went inside. I got a good look at Mystery Man. He was wearing a white undershirt and Bermuda shorts, bearing a tropical print that would only be available to an unsuspecting tourist on a cheap cruise to the Bahamas. His legs were white as paper, contrasted to the black, mid-calf socks he was sporting. The putrid smell of body odor permeated the room.
He and Rod discussed the fees. We were told it would be $50 to rent the chapel, and $50 for the minister. Rod explained that we were working on a tight budget, only had about $120 left to cover the wedding, the license, and gas to get us back home. Mystery Man took pity on us and only charged us $10 to rent the building, and $40 for the minister. He told us he’d call the minister while we went to the courthouse and got the marriage license.
After returning to Wee Kirk from getting the license, we were seated in the lobby and asked to wait, as the minister hadn’t arrived yet. As I sat in the chair, I held Rod’s hand and started giving myself positive affirmations. I was doing the right thing. I knew I was supposed to be doing this. I loved Rod. I knew it.
Mystery Man came to tell us the minister was ready. He showed Rod where to stand in the tiny 20-person chapel. White pews flanked the sides of room. Cheap silk flowers sprays were covering the front. Mystery Man took me around the corner and told me to wait while he grabbed a cassette tape, threw it into a stereo, and pushed play. “I Finally Found Someone,” by Bryan Adams and Barbra Streisand suddenly filled the room. I was given a little push, and knew that was my cue.
I walked around the corner and got a good look at the minister. Somewhere, someone was laughing at their fortune made after selling a mauve pink ensemble, complete with matching suit, shirt, and tie. He was dressed to the nines and even had the rose-tinted glasses to prove it. I felt quite underdressed in my t-shirt, shorts, and purple Birkenstocks. At least Rod and I matched in our summer attire.
The minister rambled on about love being like a tree and nurturing its roots. I didn’t listen to most of what he said, as I was bursting into fits of giggles at the sight of Rod, who was also chuckling under his breath. When we exchanged traditional vows, a sense of calm came over me. As we were pronounced husband and wife, another calming feeling came over me, reaffirming my emotions. We gently kissed, gave each other a huge hug, thanked Mystery Man and the Mauve Minister, and got in the car. We made a pit stop at a nearby Exxon station, got some snacks, and headed back to Logan.
When I told my parents, they were (naturally) furious. Once they met Rod, they knew I had made the right choice. It took time to build that bridge, but that bridge is made of solid trust and love.
Almost eleven years after that day in June 1997, I still have no regrets to my 8-hour engagement or my $50 wedding. It’s been nothing but absolute bliss.
“Rod, sit down. There’s something I need to tell you. We need to get married…”
“I know.”
“No, I don’t think you understand. We need to get married…”
“Right now,” he interrupted.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Was it true that the person sitting next to me on the park bench was really feeling the same way? After all, Rod and I were just friends from work, only having known each other for about 4 months. I was waiting for an LDS missionary, and had only spent the past week really, truly getting to know Rod.
I had to gather my thoughts. It was late. I was in the middle of a small-time animal sanctuary in Logan, UT. Peacocks were squawking behind me, monkeys were jumping around in their cages in front of me. It was warm, but my body was shivering. Not exactly the best setting to be discussing something like an immediate marriage.
“You’re not just saying that, are you?” I asked.
“No, Sarah, I’m not. It’s like I had this feeling come over me just now,” he said. “I wasn’t thinking about marrying you until this very moment.”
“That is so weird, because I wasn’t thinking about marrying you at all.”
Brutal words, yet honest. I wasn’t planning on marrying anyone.
I looked at my watch. 9pm. My mind was racing. So many thoughts flooded my brain: What now? Where would we go? Where would we live? Did I really just commit to marry someone I had only dated for a week? What would my best friend, on a mission in Kentucky think? Oh, crap! My PARENTS! My family! What would they do? I couldn’t handle it.
“I’ve got to go home and gather myself.”
“Then let’s go,” answered Rod.
We hopped in my Honda CRX and headed for my house. The short drive across town felt like an eternity. The silence was so thick it felt as if cotton balls were in my ears and mouth, blocking anything from being said or heard. I couldn’t understand why I was feeling this wave of emotion. Nerves, perhaps, but it wasn’t set in stone. There was to be no marriage. Yet.
I invited Rod inside to discuss the matter further. I had no idea what he was thinking and needed to pick his brain. We went to my room, closed the door, sat down on the bed and started discussing the situation at hand.
“Do you still feel the same?” I asked.
“It’s only been an hour, Sarah,” he responded, “What about you?”
“No change. I know we need to do this,” I said. “It’s just a little easier said than done.”
We talked about our living arrangements, work arrangements, and the like. I asked Rod what his family would say. He assured me they would be fine. I had actually met his entire family the day before, when I was invited to a celebration of his cousin’s son’s birth. He asked about my family, and I quickly changed the subject. I didn’t want to think about it. Nobody in my family even knew Rod existed. We decided that I’d move in with him, 30 minutes away in Preston, Idaho, where he grew up. We’d keep working at the same company, and just take life one day at a time.
I looked at the clock. 11:30pm. I wasn’t tired in the least bit. The adrenaline pumping through my veins could have supplied the U.S. Olympic Track Team with surplus. I started cleaning my room furiously, hoping that the busy work would calm my nerves. I still wasn’t committed to following through, and couldn’t compute my anxiety and nervousness. Rod sat quietly on my bed. I looked at him, hung the last shirt in the closet, and sat down next to him.
“Ok, let’s do this,” I quietly stated. “How much money do we have?”
“I have about $100 on me,” he said.
“I have about $50, so let’s just go. Let’s go to Vegas,” I said.
We got up. I grabbed my keys and noticed the time. 2:30am.
If the drive across town seemed to take forever, the drive from Logan to Las Vegas should have seemed like an eternity. The whole way down we discussed our individual dreams and aspirations, politics, religion, how to raise a family, and what we wanted to accomplish together. We watched the sunrise as we crossed the border into Nevada. Could time have really passed that quickly? Our conversation continued until we pulled into Las Vegas.
I took the off ramp I felt would yield the best selection for wedding chapels: Tropicana. The Strip. The heart of Sin City. It couldn’t be that hard to find a wedding chapel, could it?
My ability to read must have been temporarily suspended because I drove by about 5 before Rod pointed and said, “That looks like a good one.”
There, on my left, was a little cream and brown building. It made me think of a Swiss cottage, like something you’d see in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. I looked at the sign: The Wee Kirk O’ the Heather. Interesting. It’d have to do.
I parked the car in the side lot and got out to survey the area. It was hot. Really hot, considering it was only 9:30 in the morning. I knew I was doing the right thing. The ball forming in my stomach would have to be ignored.
We walked up to the front door and saw a sign that read: PLEASE RING BELL. Rod took the courtesy and we patiently waited. An older, mysterious-looking man opened the door and peeked his head out.
“We’re here to get married,” Rod announced.
“Come on in,” said the man.
We went inside. I got a good look at Mystery Man. He was wearing a white undershirt and Bermuda shorts, bearing a tropical print that would only be available to an unsuspecting tourist on a cheap cruise to the Bahamas. His legs were white as paper, contrasted to the black, mid-calf socks he was sporting. The putrid smell of body odor permeated the room.
He and Rod discussed the fees. We were told it would be $50 to rent the chapel, and $50 for the minister. Rod explained that we were working on a tight budget, only had about $120 left to cover the wedding, the license, and gas to get us back home. Mystery Man took pity on us and only charged us $10 to rent the building, and $40 for the minister. He told us he’d call the minister while we went to the courthouse and got the marriage license.
After returning to Wee Kirk from getting the license, we were seated in the lobby and asked to wait, as the minister hadn’t arrived yet. As I sat in the chair, I held Rod’s hand and started giving myself positive affirmations. I was doing the right thing. I knew I was supposed to be doing this. I loved Rod. I knew it.
Mystery Man came to tell us the minister was ready. He showed Rod where to stand in the tiny 20-person chapel. White pews flanked the sides of room. Cheap silk flowers sprays were covering the front. Mystery Man took me around the corner and told me to wait while he grabbed a cassette tape, threw it into a stereo, and pushed play. “I Finally Found Someone,” by Bryan Adams and Barbra Streisand suddenly filled the room. I was given a little push, and knew that was my cue.
I walked around the corner and got a good look at the minister. Somewhere, someone was laughing at their fortune made after selling a mauve pink ensemble, complete with matching suit, shirt, and tie. He was dressed to the nines and even had the rose-tinted glasses to prove it. I felt quite underdressed in my t-shirt, shorts, and purple Birkenstocks. At least Rod and I matched in our summer attire.
The minister rambled on about love being like a tree and nurturing its roots. I didn’t listen to most of what he said, as I was bursting into fits of giggles at the sight of Rod, who was also chuckling under his breath. When we exchanged traditional vows, a sense of calm came over me. As we were pronounced husband and wife, another calming feeling came over me, reaffirming my emotions. We gently kissed, gave each other a huge hug, thanked Mystery Man and the Mauve Minister, and got in the car. We made a pit stop at a nearby Exxon station, got some snacks, and headed back to Logan.
When I told my parents, they were (naturally) furious. Once they met Rod, they knew I had made the right choice. It took time to build that bridge, but that bridge is made of solid trust and love.
Almost eleven years after that day in June 1997, I still have no regrets to my 8-hour engagement or my $50 wedding. It’s been nothing but absolute bliss.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
While I'm waiting...
I didn't think to do this sooner. I'm also tired, so I have an excuse.
I'm taking my bonehead math class online. I have to access my homework and what not from a different website, one from which my professor more than likely gets a kick back for each student. Anyway, I tried to access the videos from this website and couldn't get any to work. I spent a good month going back and forth on the phone and in emails with this company to no avail. They had me switching all sorts of things with my internet browser, router, blah, blah, computer stuff, blah, blah. I noticed about a month ago that the internet connection and the weather channel wasn't working on the Wii. I didn't think anything of it. Last night Rod decided to figure it out. I kept telling him I could see if I could reconfigure it. He didn't hear me. Go figure. He managed to fix it, I think. In the meantime, he did a system restore back to, like, January. In doing so, he managed to take away my ability to access my word processing program. I have a peer review due tonight. I might add that this peer review is really tedious to complete, as the paper I'm reviewing is so incredibly boring.
I'm still waiting for the trial version of Office to finish loading, which it has. I'll post info on the assignment. It was a blast, and one of the easiest papers I've written.
I'm taking my bonehead math class online. I have to access my homework and what not from a different website, one from which my professor more than likely gets a kick back for each student. Anyway, I tried to access the videos from this website and couldn't get any to work. I spent a good month going back and forth on the phone and in emails with this company to no avail. They had me switching all sorts of things with my internet browser, router, blah, blah, computer stuff, blah, blah. I noticed about a month ago that the internet connection and the weather channel wasn't working on the Wii. I didn't think anything of it. Last night Rod decided to figure it out. I kept telling him I could see if I could reconfigure it. He didn't hear me. Go figure. He managed to fix it, I think. In the meantime, he did a system restore back to, like, January. In doing so, he managed to take away my ability to access my word processing program. I have a peer review due tonight. I might add that this peer review is really tedious to complete, as the paper I'm reviewing is so incredibly boring.
I'm still waiting for the trial version of Office to finish loading, which it has. I'll post info on the assignment. It was a blast, and one of the easiest papers I've written.
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