Year: 2010

My Feelings on Twilight

Posted on by Sierra

Let me start this blog with a justification: I had no idea that the new Twilight movie had come out already. I take pride in the fact that I was informed about Eclipse by a boy no less. I rather thought that the Twilight movies would function more like the Harry Potter movies, which wring all of the patience out of you as though you were a particularly damp towel. But Twilight is different: twilight is a vast expansive money making machine. It is not about delayed gratification… Or actually, maybe that’s exactly what it’s about. And gratuitous vampire non- sex.

Let us please review the book that was so set up for failure: the book is about a vampire who falls in love with a girl  because he quite literally wants  to drink her . I want to drink a kool- aid but you dont see me lusting after the Kool Aid man. (although he does say ohhhh yeah! In a very suggestive way) I feel like I need to pre justify myself again and say that I HAVE NOT read the books in their entirety. This is because I believe that Stephanie Meyer had tortured the English language into uncomfortably bad sentences. Among my favorites ( and coincedentally the line that I stopped reading at) went something like this: “Two things were for certain:  Edward Cullen was a vampire and I was irrevocably in love with him.” I mean, really?! we wasted trees for that?

Now I feel I must give Miss Meyer some deserved credit however. Man, does that lady know how to manipulate the heart strings. It is here that I make my confession: I did see eclipse on opening night. Not only that but I enjoyed it also. Particularly, I enjoyed the scene where a scantily clad Jacob had to cling to Bella in the middle of a snow storm while Edward grimaced and bore it because his love for Bella was so deep that he wanted to keep her warm by letting the werewolf do it for him. I enjoyed the moment Jacob and Edward shared when Bella, nestled closely to Jacob’s bosom, slept and Edward confided in Jacob that “if we weren’t sworn enemies, I might actually like you.” I appreciated how the filmmakers set it up to feel like an almost secret gay confession. I think that would make the plot even more complex and dynamic, don’t you? 



I also appreciated the film’s power of persuasion. Formerly I considered myself to be an ignorant team Jacobite, but after sitting through two hours of Taylor laugtners appallingly bad acting, I now proclaim myself an Edward supporter. 

So folks, I confess– I’m jumping on the band wagon. I can say in all honesty that I enjoyed my eclipse experience immensely. Just make sure when you see it to have a fellow nay sayer with you to make fun of it with you sitting on your right. It makes the movie ten times more fun and I was surprised to find the Kool Aid man is exceptionally good company.

30 books in 6 weeks. Hallelujah!

Posted on by Sierra

Did I mention I love being an English Teaching major? Part of the curriculum for this major is an adolescent literature class where I have to read 3o books in six weeks of the”Young Adult” genre. Might you be able to help me in my quest? What are some truly fantastic adolescent lit books you’ve read in the past?

See You Again.

Posted on by Sierra

            I told him I would see him soon. I patted his shoulder because he was too frail for a hug, and I told him I would see him soon. And I genuinely thought I would. I thought I would be back next weekend so I could pat his shoulder and put chapstick on his chapped lips, and that I could keep telling him weekend after weekend how much I loved him and that I would see him soon.
            Today my Grandpa Tom died, so I won’t be seeing him tomorrow, or next weekend, or next year. For me, it won’t be soon when I see him again. But the marvelous thing about the plan of salvation, is that for him, I won’t have backed out on my promise. For him, by the time I see him, it really will be soon.
            

I’m finally gonna nail it.

Posted on by Sierra

Let me tell you about my fingernails:


My cousin called them nublets once. She didn’t just call them that actually; she printed the word NUBLETS in all capital letters on a piece of lined paper and drew stars on it, and then taped it to my closet, just in case I forgot that my fingernails have never, not once in my ENTIRE life, grown past the tips of my fingers.
Every year since I was fourteen I have loved making New Years Resolutions. So for seven shiny years, I have made myself the bold promise that THIS would finally be the year that I kick my fingernail biting habit. Clearly this is a problem that has been vexing me—see my 2009 poem: The Biter, for proof.
Here have been my strategies:
  1. The icky tasting nail polish—But, my problem is so severe, I just bite the bad taste off and then am rewarded by the delectable nail beneath it.
  2. The incentive program—My mom is still bound by her promise to cash in on a free manicure for me if I can let them grow out. My aunt offered to buy me an entire new OUTFIT if I could kick the habit. Neither of them has had to follow through.
  3. The Buddy System—I’ve made bets and pacts with fellow nail-biters, that whoever bit first owed the other brownies. I’ve made a lot of brownies.
  4. I’ve painted them, sat on them, got acrylics (waste of 25 dollars, I usually just bite them off within three days), had people smack my hands away from my lips when they see me “going for it.”
Yet one suspenseful movie or stressful test later, and all my efforts are chewed to bits and I have the familiar, almost comforting sting of stripping my nails too far down.
But now. This time. I AM FOR REAL. I made a missionary friend a promise that I would kick the habit before he got back, and since that is two months from now, I reckon it’s time I start getting serious. Man, did I push this one down to the wire or what? That makes me so nervous the only solace would be to bite…
Friends. I implore you to help me in my quest. How did YOU kick the habit? What are your bad habits?

Retraction: All the Women I want to be.

Posted on by Sierra

Caution: Thanktimony ensues.

Thanks to the admonishment of a certain General Authority, that caused me and my General Conference Buddy to go into fits of giggles because of the irony of it all, I am currently printing a follow-up blog to my post “All the Women that I am Not.”
            This General Conferencer suggested that we stop looking to the media to define our self worth as women. I wonder if he read my blog.
            So here it is, the list of women I actually ought to try to be–All the women (or actually a very small but important compilation) that actually matter:
Jess–whose style and beauty pretty much floors me on a regular basis, and who could take an Econ test better than the professor that wrote it.
And Kristin: Who is already a better mom than most mom’s in the whole world, even though she doesn’t have any kids yet. Who makes self sacrifice seem second nature. 
This girl, Kelsey– Who not only put in service time in India, but actually continues to serve those sweet kids on this continent, despite a monstrously busy schedule.
This girl, Amanda, who is full of stories and life, who gives generously and won’t let people push her around.
This fine lady, who bravely pursued a big girl job in California.
These girls, who might be mad at me for including this picture, but who constantly bring life and color to dull situations, or who are the life of the party even in really fun situations.
Miss Chloe Noelle, who has struck the delicate balance between hilarity and sensitivity, whose dulcet tunes lull me to sleep at night. Who has helped me distinguish the difference between Cool-Lame, and Lame-Cool, and Sugar Pee and Water Pee.
This little wordsmith who is small in stature but mighty in writing. 
This talented mother, who gives great advice, manages a loving and crafty home, and makes the best desserts you’ve ever eaten.
This hilarious sister of mine, who is one step away from being a published writer, and no steps away from being an accomplished couponer.
This lady who taught me everything I know, and who knows everything, and who is always right, and who can do everything in high heels yet.
And I guess it would kinda like to be like me. I guess that would not be so bad.

All the Women that I am Not

Posted on by Sierra

            It has recently come to my attention that the media has ruined my life. I have this warped vision of who I should want to become. And the thing is, that I genuinely do want to be these people. The thing is that I sub-consciously have tried to infuse elements of their awesomeness into my own “lame-cool” personality. So here it is, the list of all the people I want to become.
I want to be the girl who: 
Is nerdy cute, kicks total butt, and saves the day way more often than Harry Potter.
Who has men eating out of the palm of her hand, and who is so spoiled by affection that men won’t be mad at her even when she has done something truly heartless. I also want to be a little bit heartless, painfully beautiful, and just quirky enough that it’s not weird, but totally endearing.
Who leaves strong men powerless, and does so without mercy (If you haven’t read Keats’ poem, here’s some ear candy for you).
I want to be the girl who can say everything she needs to say through dance.
And the girl who talks REALLY REALLY fast,  and who has charming emotional issues. 
And Shakira. Because who DOESN’T want to be Shakira?
INSTEAD: I have come to the startling realization that I am not so much tall, but short and squatty with depressingly small fingernail nubs, whose nerdiness is less charming and moreso overt and obnoxious, who word vomits rather that wit battles, and cares DEEPLY about hurting people’s feelings, and with absolutely ZERO ZERO ZERO rhythm or dancing ability. This. is. not. great. 

But maybe that is exactly who I should WANT to be anyways.

Mock Disaster Day

Posted on by Sierra
I’m not the squeamish type. That’s not to say, that if someone on Fear Factor were to eat a cow eyeball that it would not send me dry-heaving to the toilet (I have very sensitive gag-reflexes), but usually I can handle the poke from a needle just fine. I don’t have to close my eyes during the surgery on Grey’s Anatomy anymore, so I figured I could handle today’s Mock Disaster without getting woozy. And, actually, I could handle it, though I understand that some people (BOY people even) are the squeamish types and can’t stomach all the fake gore, and need the restorative properties of juice to calm their troubled nerve system.
            So what, pray tell, is a Mock Disaster? Mock Disaster is a chance for us in the theater department to flex our make-up muscles and recreate all the enchanting bodily injuries that natural/ human induced disaster can create. Today we did an earthquake, so after visiting the make-up department (I was rather disappointed with my make-up artist. I wanted the rebar through my arm), we clambered into a dark warehouse and spread debris around us and recreated death and destruction.
            This wasn’t all purposeless, though, let’s be honest, a bunch of theater kids probably would have done it just for fun anyways. It was actually for people in triage training pass their certification tests to become EMT’s. Today, medical personnel approached my “lifeless” body, and carted me out of the abandoned warehouse on a gurney, took my pulse and deduced that I was only faking dead (true) and then located my husband/boyfriend/ baby child Timmy. The EMT training people only made me break character once, and it was when they suggested that my mock boyfriend/husband whisper sweet nothings into my ear in order to revive me, and then I just had to laugh. But even when they almost gave me CPR, I was ready (and… maybe a little willing [not true]).
Here are just a few pictures of my experience today.

In the make-up room getting prepped. Good thing there was juice nearby.
If you think we had it bad, check out the girl in the back. Man oh Man. (Also, I am extremely disappointed with how my arm turned out. I didn’t do it personally.)
She got the injury I wanted, and she was very happy about it.
            Truth be told, it was actually kind of a fun experience, even if I had been a little bit squeamish, but it wasn’t hard to picture my brothers and sisters on the other side of the world who probably wish that they were incurring a “mock” disaster. I can’t imagine the horror of not really knowing where your husband/baby/wife/friend is, or whether or not they are ok. I can’t imagine how horrible it would be to listen to triage come in and mark you for Immediate Removal, and then have to wait in your own blood for twenty more grueling minutes. While lying in my own little pool of mint-flavored blood-colored corn syrup, I said a little prayer for our friends in South America, and I hope that all those brave EMT’s pass their tests and save someone’s life because of it. 

Pimp my blog

Posted on by Sierra

I am looking to, how would you say, Pimp my blog, but I find myself woefully limited by stupid computer-related disabilities.

Also, I am tired of sifting through horrendous Free Blog Template websites.

Does anyone have any reliably good template websites which feature A) dinosaurs, B) starry, indie, classy but not grown up looking blogger backgrounds?

Where did you get yours/ how did you do it?

What are your favorite blogger applications?

Please help me pimp my blog. Whoever leaves the best suggestion, I will dedicated an entire post to how grateful I am to you.

Thanks friends!

Shark Muffins

Posted on by Sierra

I find that often I am kept awake at night, perplexed by the question: “What is the opposite of a shark?”
Fortunately I have been blessed by dear friends, the Shelby-Russell family, who have been able to successfully answer this question for me.
“Why Sierra,” they would say in the most matter-of-fact, plain as day, but still ever-so-Shelby sweet way, “Clearly, clearly, the opposite of a shark is a muffin.”
There’s a simple logic in this. I submit to you my proposal of agreement:
  • Sharks are rather pointy and angular, where a muffin is much more round and has no harsh lines.
  • Sharks live under water; muffins live on land.
  • Sharks are predators; muffins are prey.
  • Sharks have teeth; muffins have blueberries.
  • Sharks are living; muffins are (dead?)
  • Sharks are mean, but muffins are so nice!
Now, before you raise your outcry that muffins are so completely opposite from a shark because they are in entirely different genres of things, realize that I judge people based on their ability to accept this crucial life principle or not. Recently I have had a friend go as far to suggest that every relationship has a shark and a muffin. The muffin is inherently feminine, nurturing, and sweet.
This brings me to the startling realization: In relationships… I have shark-like tendencies. I don’t cook. I’m all for watching “Mr. and Mrs. Smith” instead of “Baptists at our Barbeque.” If I want to hang out with someone, I am not afraid to ask them to hang out with me. Also, I have sharp incisors.
So dear friends… Which are you? A shark or a muffin and why?