- People don't "do" their hair in Paris. No, people go "au natural" with European- humidity- induced curl. In Paris I attempted the let-your-hair-go-wild look, and it kind of works, at least by Parisian standards.
- If you don't say hello, no one likes you. I love that a simple French word makes all the difference between happy French people and ornery French people.
-It's romantic. Most romantic location in the world though? No way. I think Prague was more romantic. And the German Rhine Valley. Mmm... now that made me want a boy to hold. My recipe for happiness and romance: take a boat down the Rhine river and walk through Prague at sunset. Nonetheless, Paris is still romantic-- there were loving-love couples everywhere. Maybe that's what made it less romantic for me. Who wants to be in love where everyone else is also in love?
- Notre Dame. Eiffel Tower. The Louvre. Arc de Triomphe. Enough said.
- The French take their food very seriously. I do too. We got along.
- The language. It's all smooth-like. Like chocolate.
- Chocolate. I had a French chocolate mousse and 70% cocoa French chocolate bar. Both made me very happy.
- Museums that make my feet hurt because they're so big. I like art. Most of that can be attributed to my high school art history teacher. She changed my life.
-Boots in the fashion capital of the world. My desire for stut-your-stuff-boots used to be a want, now it's a need.
- Yogurt in ceramic cups that taste a little bit like heaven. It was white, so it looked like heaven too.
28 August 2008
24 August 2008
Amsterdam
Picture 1. We are in Amsterdam. This is a lovely canal and my two nephews.
Picture 2. Will, my nephew, in front of Anne Frank's house with bikers riding by. The cars are secondary to the bikes in the city. The city was built for bikes and everyone rides. I mean everyone. Really, believe me. It's incredible.
Picture 3. Anne Frank's House
Picture 4. The bikes parked on the canal. So lovely, eh?
Picture 5. Riding on the back of my Dad's bike. Everybody is doing it. Jump on.
Will in Aachen
This is my nephew on the night of my arrival. He introduced me to every one of his cars. Yes, they all have names. And this is him eating yummy jam.
19 August 2008
Goodnight USA
I'm currently sitting on my bedroom floor with my packed suitcases and my rented laptop. Also on the floor are piles of clothing that were tossed out of my suitcase when the zipper wouldn't zip.
The suitcases, the laptop, and I are spending our last night in the states tonight. Tomorrow is the big airplane flight that takes us to Germany. And from there we're off to Paris, Amsterdam, Bern, and Prague.
Someone told me recently that I look for every opportunity to get out of the states. And in case you've been thinking the same thing about me-- I thought I'd announce that I love America and I'll miss it loads.
Elbow, elbow, wrist, wrist, smile big, blow a kiss. And I'm off. Goodnight USA.
By the way, if you're like me and you love the license plate map from above, you can spend your life savings on it here. I found it via A Little Sussy.
16 August 2008
My Life. 299 Words.
I recently had to write a life sketch for an application.
For kicks and because I like my blog, I decided to share it here.
It was crazy to try and reduce 19.92 years into one paragraph. I feel like I've lived so much more than one paragraph. But maybe I haven't.
This is my life. In 299 words:
I was born on the fourth Thursday of September in 1988. It was a good day. I inherited a body and a family—all at once. I grew up in the scorching Arizona sunshine. As a kid, I lived to “play pretend”. I imagined myself as an astronaut, as a princess, as Anne with an “e”, and as a world-renowned pianist. I moved to Provo, Utah as an excited eleven year old. During my middle school years, I kept “playing pretend”, but I graduated from my backyard and onto the acting stage. As I experimented with drama, I learned that trying new things fascinated me most. I dabbled in culinary arts, ballroom dance, diving and running. My life was shaped by new things during my fifteenth summer. That year, I was attending a summer-long international leadership program in New York. While I was at the camp, my mom was diagnosed with cancer. Three years later, she passed away. She was forty-nine. The Gospel truths I’d been taught all my life quickly became more than teachings—they became the immovable foundation of my existence. Her diagnosis, her death, and my strengthened dependence on the Gospel are the most prominent moments in my life. But that isn’t the end of the story, I kept growing up. I graduated from high school and accepted a scholarship at Brigham Young University in Provo. This was just last year. Now, as a business management student in my second year, I am still just growing up. And through it all I’ve learned that the fourth Thursday of September in 1988 was more than just a good day where I was given a body and a family. No, I was given much more. I was given a beautiful life.
For kicks and because I like my blog, I decided to share it here.
It was crazy to try and reduce 19.92 years into one paragraph. I feel like I've lived so much more than one paragraph. But maybe I haven't.
This is my life. In 299 words:
I was born on the fourth Thursday of September in 1988. It was a good day. I inherited a body and a family—all at once. I grew up in the scorching Arizona sunshine. As a kid, I lived to “play pretend”. I imagined myself as an astronaut, as a princess, as Anne with an “e”, and as a world-renowned pianist. I moved to Provo, Utah as an excited eleven year old. During my middle school years, I kept “playing pretend”, but I graduated from my backyard and onto the acting stage. As I experimented with drama, I learned that trying new things fascinated me most. I dabbled in culinary arts, ballroom dance, diving and running. My life was shaped by new things during my fifteenth summer. That year, I was attending a summer-long international leadership program in New York. While I was at the camp, my mom was diagnosed with cancer. Three years later, she passed away. She was forty-nine. The Gospel truths I’d been taught all my life quickly became more than teachings—they became the immovable foundation of my existence. Her diagnosis, her death, and my strengthened dependence on the Gospel are the most prominent moments in my life. But that isn’t the end of the story, I kept growing up. I graduated from high school and accepted a scholarship at Brigham Young University in Provo. This was just last year. Now, as a business management student in my second year, I am still just growing up. And through it all I’ve learned that the fourth Thursday of September in 1988 was more than just a good day where I was given a body and a family. No, I was given much more. I was given a beautiful life.
14 August 2008
To-Do-Before-I-Die
One more thing off my list: Put a work of art in a gallery. Check. I'm feeling pretty good about life.
13 August 2008
I love you Arizona.
I sang this lovely country song as a proud Arizonan with my fourth grade class. The chorus is my favorite part.
"Oooo..ooo Arizona,
You're the magic in me.
Ooooo...ooo Arizona,
You're the life-blood of me."
Listen once. Then, listen again and sing along. That's what I did. It brought back great memories.
All of this Arizona talk is in honor of my sister who is moving back to our home state. May she always love the magic and life-blood of our beloved Arizona.
"Oooo..ooo Arizona,
You're the magic in me.
Ooooo...ooo Arizona,
You're the life-blood of me."
Listen once. Then, listen again and sing along. That's what I did. It brought back great memories.
All of this Arizona talk is in honor of my sister who is moving back to our home state. May she always love the magic and life-blood of our beloved Arizona.
12 August 2008
Accounting 200
This is what I'm doing these days. And someday, when it's all over, I'll come back to life.
11 August 2008
Can you enjoy feeling sad?
When I look at these pictures, I feel depressed, and I really don't mind.
View more of Michael Kenna's Silent World photo set here.
08 August 2008
08.08.08
08.08.08
I'm loving this. Today is such a lucky day. And eight is just a good number.
P.S. Eight is especially lucky to the Chinese which is why the Olympics started on 08.08.08 at 8pm. Very cool.
I'm loving this. Today is such a lucky day. And eight is just a good number.
P.S. Eight is especially lucky to the Chinese which is why the Olympics started on 08.08.08 at 8pm. Very cool.
Beijing 2008
I have a thing for the Olympics. And when I say "thing", I mean "a love affair with".
It all started in Salt Lake City 2002. And I went to a lot of events. I definitely caught the olympic fever.
Actually, take that back, it started way before that. It started when I was charmed by Michelle Kwan and Kristi Yamaguchi, the ice skaters that I idolized. But, I lived in Arizona and had never been on ice before, so my glorified impersonations consisted of performing roller skate shows with my sister on my driveway. I soon realized that I would never make it to the olympics on roller skates. So, that was the end of that.
And then, I took to gymnastics. I decided I was going to be an olympic gymnast and so I watched olympic gymnasts, wanting to be just like them. This was around the Atlanta 1996 games. Remember Kerri Strug and her heroic, perfect vault on a broken ankle?I'll never forget it. I think I cried when her one-legged vault miracle allowed the USA to win the gymnastics gold medal. I knew the name of almost every girl on the team that year and I still remember: Dominique Moceanu, Dominique Dawes, and Shannon Miller. I had a book about them that was my reference guide. It is well-worn and used.
Anyway: Moral of the story, mimicking olympic heroes will not necessarily get you to the olympics. Because, quite obviously, I'm in Provo, not in Beijing marching into the stadium with the USA olympic team. And you say, Laura, but the olympics happen every four years. Don't give up, you have another chance. And I say, Forget it. I'm giving up. In four more years, I'll be 23 and much to old to compete as a gymnast. I'd be competing against young, spry 16 and 17 year olds. Not to mention the fact that the only gymnastics trick I can still do is a cartwheel.
So, tonight is the opening ceremonies for Beijing 2008. Or rather this morning the opening ceremonies happened in China, but it was Friday night there when it happened. So really, tonight they happen, yet this morning they did happen. Anyway, I'm confused about whether this event should be talked about in past or present-tense.
Either way, I'll be celebrating when I watch the rerun of team USA entering the stadium. And, I'll try hard not to be bitter that I'm not there with them.
It all started in Salt Lake City 2002. And I went to a lot of events. I definitely caught the olympic fever.
Actually, take that back, it started way before that. It started when I was charmed by Michelle Kwan and Kristi Yamaguchi, the ice skaters that I idolized. But, I lived in Arizona and had never been on ice before, so my glorified impersonations consisted of performing roller skate shows with my sister on my driveway. I soon realized that I would never make it to the olympics on roller skates. So, that was the end of that.
And then, I took to gymnastics. I decided I was going to be an olympic gymnast and so I watched olympic gymnasts, wanting to be just like them. This was around the Atlanta 1996 games. Remember Kerri Strug and her heroic, perfect vault on a broken ankle?I'll never forget it. I think I cried when her one-legged vault miracle allowed the USA to win the gymnastics gold medal. I knew the name of almost every girl on the team that year and I still remember: Dominique Moceanu, Dominique Dawes, and Shannon Miller. I had a book about them that was my reference guide. It is well-worn and used.
Anyway: Moral of the story, mimicking olympic heroes will not necessarily get you to the olympics. Because, quite obviously, I'm in Provo, not in Beijing marching into the stadium with the USA olympic team. And you say, Laura, but the olympics happen every four years. Don't give up, you have another chance. And I say, Forget it. I'm giving up. In four more years, I'll be 23 and much to old to compete as a gymnast. I'd be competing against young, spry 16 and 17 year olds. Not to mention the fact that the only gymnastics trick I can still do is a cartwheel.
So, tonight is the opening ceremonies for Beijing 2008. Or rather this morning the opening ceremonies happened in China, but it was Friday night there when it happened. So really, tonight they happen, yet this morning they did happen. Anyway, I'm confused about whether this event should be talked about in past or present-tense.
Either way, I'll be celebrating when I watch the rerun of team USA entering the stadium. And, I'll try hard not to be bitter that I'm not there with them.
07 August 2008
I want to be a cute Irish grandma too.
Take all that Peter Pan talk back. I've changed my mind, I want to grow old.
And you're thinking, This girl is crazy. She never knows what she wants. She needs to make up her mind already.
And I'm thinking, Heck, life is way more fun when you can change your mind whenever you want.
So, here is why I changed my mind about the whole getting old and grey thing:
A brilliant photographer named Kate Hutchinson did a photography set called Irish Grandmother. You can find the set by going to her website and clicking on Irish Grandmother.
Here's a little preview of the photo set:
And you're thinking, This girl is crazy. She never knows what she wants. She needs to make up her mind already.
And I'm thinking, Heck, life is way more fun when you can change your mind whenever you want.
So, here is why I changed my mind about the whole getting old and grey thing:
A brilliant photographer named Kate Hutchinson did a photography set called Irish Grandmother. You can find the set by going to her website and clicking on Irish Grandmother.
Here's a little preview of the photo set:
05 August 2008
Peter Pan, You're the Man
As a kid, I had issues with Peter Pan. I was among the ranks of little girls that couldn’t wait to drive, date, and wear make-up like my sisters. And Peter confused me. He was a kid and wanted to stay that way, never to be cool, sophisticated, and independent.
That’s how I was, wanting to be old, responsible, and spectacular. And then, it was my eighteenth birthday. My entire paradigm changed that day. Concepts like taxes, majors, men, and tuition jumped out at me. Yeah, and I got scared. So it was, on my eighteenth birthday that I joined Peter Pan, the lost boys, in the chorus, “I’ll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up. No sir, not I, not me. So there.”
In an article for TIME magazine: “The years from 18 until 25 and even beyond have become a distinct and separate life stage, a strange, transitional never-never land… in which people stall for a few extra years, putting of the iron cage of adult responsibility that constantly threatens to crash down on them.” He’s got it right when he talks about the “iron cage of adult responsibility.” Adults are definitely restricted and trapped by money and important decisions.
And who would willingly walk into prison?
Growing up means facing worries that furrow our brows and grey our hairs. And while maintaining the color of our hair and our wrinkle-free foreheads is one reason to avoid getting old, Peter Pan had a different reason for staying young and his reason is better. He stayed young because it's just so darn fun. He sings, “If growing up means it’s beneath my dignity to climb a tree, then I’ll never grow up.”
Truth is, someday a well meaning grown up will pull us under their arm and say, “Isn’t it time for you to grow up, be financially independent, and make your own life altering decisions?” And we’ll groan and cringe at the thought, and we'll feel guilty and we'll work on becoming financially stable, but we'll never grow up. With Peter Pan’s secret, we never will.
No one is going to stop us from having fun-- from eating otter pop after otter pop and reading Harry Potter for the sixth time. Who will reprimand us for doing masterpieces in sidewalk chalk or make fun of because we are entertained for hours by a bouncy ball? In 2000 the average age for video gamers is 29. It used to be 18 in 1990. So, let’s stay young, let’s help raise the video gaming average age.
I recently went to Disneyland. The lines for the rides weren’t too long, but the line for the Peter Pan ride was horrific. I didn’t care, I waited anyway. It’s my favorite ride, and he’s my favorite kid. I want to grow up to be just like him.
That’s how I was, wanting to be old, responsible, and spectacular. And then, it was my eighteenth birthday. My entire paradigm changed that day. Concepts like taxes, majors, men, and tuition jumped out at me. Yeah, and I got scared. So it was, on my eighteenth birthday that I joined Peter Pan, the lost boys, in the chorus, “I’ll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up. No sir, not I, not me. So there.”
In an article for TIME magazine: “The years from 18 until 25 and even beyond have become a distinct and separate life stage, a strange, transitional never-never land… in which people stall for a few extra years, putting of the iron cage of adult responsibility that constantly threatens to crash down on them.” He’s got it right when he talks about the “iron cage of adult responsibility.” Adults are definitely restricted and trapped by money and important decisions.
And who would willingly walk into prison?
Growing up means facing worries that furrow our brows and grey our hairs. And while maintaining the color of our hair and our wrinkle-free foreheads is one reason to avoid getting old, Peter Pan had a different reason for staying young and his reason is better. He stayed young because it's just so darn fun. He sings, “If growing up means it’s beneath my dignity to climb a tree, then I’ll never grow up.”
Truth is, someday a well meaning grown up will pull us under their arm and say, “Isn’t it time for you to grow up, be financially independent, and make your own life altering decisions?” And we’ll groan and cringe at the thought, and we'll feel guilty and we'll work on becoming financially stable, but we'll never grow up. With Peter Pan’s secret, we never will.
No one is going to stop us from having fun-- from eating otter pop after otter pop and reading Harry Potter for the sixth time. Who will reprimand us for doing masterpieces in sidewalk chalk or make fun of because we are entertained for hours by a bouncy ball? In 2000 the average age for video gamers is 29. It used to be 18 in 1990. So, let’s stay young, let’s help raise the video gaming average age.
I recently went to Disneyland. The lines for the rides weren’t too long, but the line for the Peter Pan ride was horrific. I didn’t care, I waited anyway. It’s my favorite ride, and he’s my favorite kid. I want to grow up to be just like him.
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