So I've had this recurring dream

...that always takes place at an amusement park. I'm on or about to get on the roller coaster, and it's one that I'm familiar with but it doesn't look familiar. Same with the parks. I'm at Disneyland, but it's not Disneyland. I'm at Six Flags, but it's not Six Flags. The roller coasters have crazy tracks that look virtually impossible to be functional, and every now and then when I'm on one of the roller coasters it winds up going off the tracks.

I haven't had one of these dreams for a while. I remember looking up the meaning of these dreams of my past, and it's pretty obvious what it is. Dream interpretation books must be so easy to write.

...That or the authors are direct descendants of Joseph.

Good for the soul

Yes, I know the picture's not that great - cell phone. The digital camera was at home.

Last night I took Rachel to see Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto #2 at the Utah Symphony. We got there about 1/2 hour early because I wanted her to see how the members of the symphony come out on stage and warm up and all of the prep before it actually starts. As I sat down, I had this feeling of "this is where I'm supposed to be." I felt right at home. I felt a sense of home. I almost can't describe it, because it's like trying to explain to someone how your arm feels on your body. Only you know how it feels, and only you can understand that concept. I know many readers will understand where I'm coming from, because most of you've all been transplanted from one place to here (wherever that may be), and where you came from is a big part of who you are, and now that you're not there anymore, you're feeling less... you.

Anyway, the first piece they played was absolutely fantastic. Toccata for Orchestra by James Beckel. There is no current recording of this piece, which is a crying shame. After the piece concluded, the hall erupted in applause, but only after several audible exclamations of, "Wow!" and "Superb!" and "Bravo!" were heard. I know, because I was one of those. I wish there was a way to patch some of this piece here. It was phenomenal. Exciting, to say the least. The next piece was a Beethoven Symphony. (YAWN, SNORE.) Never been a fan. Then, intermission.



After that, Rocky. Oh, Rocky. I just couldn't believe I was there. That I was seeing it performed. That I was hearing it. Live. I cried. I cried in all three movements. Remember how a few posts ago I mentioned Rachel being able to express my inexpressible? Rachmaninoff does the same. There's something about this piece that just bores right through to the center of my very being, to my soul, and touches it in a way that nothing else can. There are just a select few pieces of music that make me feel like my soul is...

This has to be my number one.

Why is it?

I don't understand why it is that I get so close to finishing something and stop working on it altogether. This applies to so many things, including cross-stitch projects, sewing projects, scrapbooking, cleaning, and most of all at this point in my life, school. The semester is only two weeks away from being finished (and that's including finals) and I've already resigned to the fact that Chem is out the window and will be retaking that later, I've had to give up on Spanish because it was overtaking my ability to focus on my math class, and now that I'm only working on math, I just don't care anymore and am ready to give up that ghost in favor of a second shot another semester. I have no drive, no oomph, no anything. Kind of like when I was at USU. My third quarter, I just up and quit. I lost my drive.

The only thing I can think of is this: My first time around with school, I had a major event happen that shook the core of me and I lost all focus. This time around I had a bomb dropped on me that, once again, shook my core and threw my life into a sort of tailspin. Bad things come in threes, right? Maybe I should chalk this all up for experience and just admit that life sucks three semesters/quarters into college. Just one difference: This time I'm not quitting.

Oh, to be a kid again

I was visiting my friend, Erika's, website and she had posted something about her son's "rocketship," which got me to thinking. I remember when my dad would bring home an old refrigerator box and how I'd play in it for days on end. He did the same for my two younger sisters, and when Rod was in the warehouse at RC Willey, he'd bring home an occasional box for Rachel to play in. Other than a refrigerator box, I'd have to say that the single most awesome toy/play thing/boredom cure was the collection of Little People stuff. And when I say Little People, I don't mean those chunky rubber things that Fisher Price came out with 10 years ago. My Little People are the real deal. I remember playing with the castle all the time, and making my mom make my older sister, Lori, play with me with the castle. Whenever she played with me she'd make the blond-haired, blue dress lady get kidnapped. What I remember from the castle was getting my hand stuck in the dungeon side time and time again because one of the Little People (usually the little brown-haired girl) would get stuck between a plastic round piece and the wall and I'd have to get her out. I remember flipping the spring-mounted flag over and over again to the point where I was afraid it'd get stuck on the side and wouldn't work anymore. I remember using the trap door as an ultra-cool slide, and not an actual trap door. I remember thinking that the only reason my dad liked the castle was because there was an alligator in the moat. I remember opening the staircase and sliding my hand around the turret because it felt good, sticking my hand in the hole on the turret, in the red attic... I guess I liked sticking my hand in every possible place a kid could on that thing.



I remember going (just a few years ago) to the house of someone in my ward and seeing that they, too, had a castle. I freaked out, and proceeded to just about ignore anything I was actually there for, and immediately started playing with it. I think if I were to score one (eBay, anyone?) it'd be in fierce competition with Rock Band and Lego Batman.

Only a child of the 2000s

... would think of being a sound mixer for a career. Rachel's been bitten by the technology bug and has decided (after watching Wall-E 4 times a day since it came out on DVD) that she wants to be the person who makes sounds for movies. It's definitely not the most commonly thought of career by a 10-year old.

Reflecting on my own desires for a life long career, I wanted to be a marine biologist, an English teacher, and now a nurse.

And speaking of becoming a nurse, I registered for fall classes this morning, and I feel like the lineup isn't as daunting as this current semester's choices. I think I'll survive without any wailing and gnashing of teeth. On the docket: Chem (again), English (a writing class, which I love), beginning guitar (which means I need to get one) and a film class (in which I know I've seen 95% of the movies they watch). I'm sure I'm going to be on academic probation, so this will be a nice lineup to show the school that I really do care.

Yeah... no

I thought about how funny it'd be to come on and tell you, dear reader, that I'm pregnant.

I really hate April Fool's Day.

I'm not pregnant. If I were, and you were visiting your second cousin in Boston, you'd be able to hear me screaming.