Guessing Game #1

NAME THAT COUNTRY

Where in the world was this photo taken? To be more specific, in what country? Open the picture in a new window to view full size, then respond with your guess in the "comment" section. The answer will be revealed Tuesday morning, August 4th.

Dream When You're Feelin Blue

Photo by diehappy-x

I [don't] think that "reality" is as bad as people keep claiming it to be. Why must "dreams" always be intangible and "reality" always be based on the lowest most miserable parts of life that we all dread?

--Joni Marie Newman, best friend

Worf is Allergic to Cats

Nothing has made me laugh more than this in a LOOOOONG time. And yes-- huzzah for my geekness. 

I Dream of London

London by night is a wonderful sight;
There is magic abroad in the air.
I’m often told that the streets turn into gold
When the moon shines on Circus and Square.

Deep in the dark that envelops the park,
There’s romance in each cigarette glow.
Down by the Thames, lights that sparkle like gems
Seem to wink at each girl and her beau.

Up comes the moon when the city’s asleep,
He’s not alone, for it seems
Somewhere up there stands an angel to keep her watch

While each Londoner dreams.

My love and I saw the sun leave the sky,
Then we kissed in the fast-fading light.
Most people say they love London by day,
But lovers love London by night.

-- London By Night, by Frank Sinatra

Yes Please

Ritsy Misfit makes pendants that look like a wax seal. They've become quite popular after the last Bachelorette wore one on TV. I totally want one! I just can't decide whether I'd rather have it in red (very wax-seal-ish) or in a deep navy to match my eyes.

Swine Flu Claims Celebrity Victim

The body of the revered Muppet was found in a NYC alleyway not far from Sesame Street. Early reports suggest he succumbed to an especially virulent case of the H1N1 variant of influenza, commonly known as swine flu. Reported witnesses claim Miss Piggy fled the scene in great distress. Parents urged to keep their Muppets indoors until further notice.

* Rebeccah told me about this. I can take no credit for the idea.

You Know What?

I'd give just about anything to spend all of today in this snowy cabin.

Circle Skirt

Found at TrashyDiva

Poppies! Dig it.

Yellow Spoon

Here you see Alicia, my niece Emma, and myself, making chocolate-chip cookies.

My sister Alicia (yay! she's having another baby soon!) kindly hosted our family gathering for the 4th of July festivities. The 4th is our biggest family holiday, so what that really means is that Alicia let everyone tromp around her house and make a mess. :) Her generosity extended to letting me use her kitchen, and I was grateful for the chance.

You see, several years ago when Alicia was married and moved away she took with her the magical yellow cookie spoon of yore. It is a plastic utensil used for decades of cookie-making in our parent's home. You can see it in the photo-- she's holding it in her hand, coated with floury cookie goop.

But let me repeat, so as to be perfectly clear-- when Alicia got married she TOOK the aforementioned precious yellow spoon. Granted, Mom gave it to her, but still. She TOOK it! All cookies I have made since that day have been deprived.

Poor cookie dough, to never know the touch of the beloved yellow spoon! Alas! What pangs of woe! Rue the day! Weeping, wailing, gnashing of teeth, tearing of clothes, etc.

I was fortunate, therefore, to be granted use of the aforementioned stirring object whilst I used her kitchen to make chocolate-chip cookies over the glorious fourth. And they were magic! You know how I know? The double batch was completely gone before 24 hours had even passed.

Thank you, Alicia, and thank you, yellow spoon.

Drink Water

Be a prodigious imbiber of dihydrogen oxide. I know I am!

My Best Friend

Presenting Miss Joni Newman, elegant woman out of a better age of time.

Joni and I met while we were in a production of A Christmas Carol four years ago. Ever since we've been very attached to each other, and it's no wonder! She's Anne of Green Gables and I'm Diana. I'm Marianne Dashwood and she's Elinor. We are the perfect complements to each other and incredibly similar.

I'm impulsive and she's the voice of reason. She wants to be an English teacher and I want to be a librarian. We love to dance. We love to sing. We love to cook. We love travel. We love film and books and analyzing them (though she's always better at that than me). We collect soundtracks. The two of us can communicate on a deep level talking very quickly and using only movie quotes. It's great!

I call her "my supplier" because she's constantly finding me new music, books, and movies to obsess about. We get together and watch British miniseries, drive about singing Broadway at the top of our lungs, scratch each others backs, take each other shopping and out to lunch, and talk at lightning speed.

What can I say about our relationship? She's my best friend. She's sensational! I love her. I adore her! And no matter what happens to us, she's constant; always there for me, and I try to be the same for her.

Lucky for Joni, she's been in England for weeks. That's not lucky for me! I want her back! I greatly dislike this distance between us. But she's bringing me European chocolate, so I suppose I really can't complain.

Love your guts, Jones!

Joni on the moor

"Unique Vintage with a Modern Twist"

My sister in law tipped me to Gardenhouse a while back, and I gotta say that I love their stuff.

Recipe: The Perfect Summer Day

Combine 1 soft, worn in quilt,


1 favorite book(s),


1 shady shelter, (alas, this will not work in humidity)


And 1 bottomless glass of ice water.


Result: Sunset before you know it, and the end of a perfect summer's day.

I GET MY BRACES OFF IN 27 DAYS!

YES! It's true! After three years of bondage, captivity, restraint, etc., I am finally to be released from my imprisonment! I can't wait. I'm going to be so pretty. Vanity? Yes. But truthful! (Insert eyeroll here.)

Excuse me while Snoopy and I go dance for joy.

Tomorrow is my 22nd birthday.

Behold! The EXECU-CHAIR!

Modern Mechanix Magazine, October 1968

I could use this right now! But doubt it's kosher to fall asleep at work ;) Just think! It comes in three fashionable colors: black, avocado, and oxblood. Yaaaaaaay oxblood.

Mirrors You Can Make Yourself

Re-purposed badminton or tennis rackets

Plastic spoons and glue. That's it.

Twigs/Driftwood either washed in diluted paint, spray painted, or left plain.

Observe these mirrors that you, yes YOU, can make yourself...with a little help from a glass company. Just bring in whatever you want a mirror for or request a mirror with specific dimensions and they can make whatever you request. Or-- re-purpose a mirror you find around your house, second hand, or at a yard sale.

Spice piles, Morocco

A Wikipedia photo of the day

I Haven't Told You What I Didn't Hear

My previous blog Rachel EM in JerusalEM was a way of communicating my experience traveling in the Holy Land with friends and family. Though I no longer manage that blog, I still have so many more stories to share. There is so much you haven't heard. Perhaps this is the moment to share this, which came to mind today.


St. Anne's Basilica is a cathedral in East Jerusalem, inside the Old City, that lies adjacent to the ancient "pool of Bethesda" mentioned in the New Testament. Built to honor Mary's mother (Christ's grandmother,) it is a crusader era church without its trimmings, essentially down to bare-bones architecture.

I remember it as the best place I sang in Jerusalem; this was the chapel with the best acoustics.

Whenever my study group toured a cathedral my teacher directed my class of 40 students to sing a familiar hymn of our faith called "I am a child of god." I was grateful that my teacher did this, because I dearly love to sing and because there is much to be gained from singing a hymn with a group of friends. However, when you see over 50 cathedrals in a month, the novelty of singing the same hymn over and over can begin to wear for a few people and the song may be sung a little more slowly, a little more off-key, and a little less wholeheartedly.

Hopefully you can imagine the cacophany of a large group half-heartedly singing an off-key hymn at dirge pace, especially in a cathedral with lofty stone ceilings and no tapestries on the walls to absorb the sound. Echoes tend to blend together and it isn't pretty. Perhaps I was more sensitive to the noise that day; my patience for it felt exceptionally thin.

I can't explain why I lingered in the knave as 98% of my class had already abandoned the building to begin wandering the pool of Bethesda. But I remained inside for a good two minutes in silence, leaning against a pillar near the front and thinking about how much work it must have been for crusaders to quarry the limestone, square it off, polish it, and place each stone so carefully. As I pondered the soldier's devotion I was approached by Tasha Antoniak, a friend with a gift for playing complex piano solos.

"Great acoustics, aren't they?" she asked, gesturing toward the ceiling with her eyes.
My whispered response was just one syllable. "Yes."
"Your clear voice would sound lovely here," she murmured. "Will you sing?"

I'll feel the effect of her words until the day I die. Will you sing? Her question seemed to beckon me to remembering the glories of the eternal; a personal invitation to express my appreciation for the goodness of god. As if an angel, knowing what I felt in my heart, asked if I would but open my mouth to communicate in the surest way a man can-- with song. Will you sing? I felt then that I must choose to sing for the rest of my life; how can I keep from singing? Her stare lingering in my thoughts, Tasha heard me stammer the words, "all right." What she didn't hear was the call to attention her words had made me feel.

Knowing the echo the vaulted ceilings were going to give, I planned to choose something haunting that would spin in the basilica between phrases. Settling on "O Come O Come Immanuel," I opened my mouth to sing my favorite verse

O come, O come, Thou Lord of might,
Who to Thy tribes, on Sinai's height,
In ancient times didst give the Law
In cloud, and majesty and awe.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Immanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

and though I've had the song memorized since high school I for some reason couldn't recall the words. Instead I used the more familar first verse, and in hindsight I find that it was more appropriate.

At this point there were only a handful of people in the chapel, perhaps six, and I was a bit self conscious about singing a solo. What if my pitch droops or I choke? Nevertheless I took a breath and chanted in prayer

O come, O come, Immanuel!
Come ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear
Rejoice! Rejoice! Immanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

Rather than end on a lower note, I took the more dramatic option of an ascending crescendo. Gratefully an angel guided my voice to the rafters and a pure soprano tone reverberated for a bit. Tasha hugged me and went outside; I followed her into warm sunshine but remained slightly apart from the group, not feeling particularly social.

Being inside Jerusalem and singing that song was a moment I shall never forget because the words I sang were not the words I heard as I sang them. I heard words of a mourning Israel, held captive by their grief until a time to come when they would shout their rejoicings; the time when their God would be with them. Immanuel comes from two Hebrew words: "El," which means God, and "Im-ma-nu," which means 'with us'. Together Immanuel means "with us is God."

The words I didn't audibly hear testified to me of the unbreakable faith of the Jews; that a time to rejoice is approaching, for God will be with them--and that he is coming.

I have since learned that the song "O Come O Come Immanuel" was written in the 12th century and is a crusader hymn. So when I consider my experience in St. Anne's, built around the same time the song was written, I smile and think how appropriate.

Tights

I declare a love affair with tights. I also love nylons. I'd much prefer to have something on my legs than not, and I've decided that this fall & winter I'm going to try to wear skirts and tights instead of jeans all the time. Jeans are not the boss of me!

So after Heather posted a great new fashion site on her blog called Modcloth, I browsed and found sensationally bold leg coverings. I also found something familiar--the top left pair of tights Christina Ricci wears in her movie Penelope.

P.S. Don't you think that antique seam nylons are incredibly alluring? I can't wait to find a pair.

Somewhere Breathtaking

I have decided that a summer in Italy might just be ideal. Think about it! Tasty food, sculpture, music, architecture, natural beauty, and of course history. Not to mention the romantic nature Hollywood* publishes for the country? Roman Holiday? Hello! What's not to die for? Think about it-- a summer in Italy. Seriously.


Volterra


Firenze


Lake Misurina (who knew Italy had places like THIS?)


and... somewhere breathtaking in Italy.


Tuscany


Best for last: The Neptune Fountain in Rome. ROME ROME ROME ROME ROME!

*And I quote. 1. "Venice! Oh, I loooooove Venice!" 2."Legend tells that if you tell it a lie and stick your hand in there it will be bitten. Off." 3."Thank you, Father. Friends of mine were hoping to go to Rome for a few weeks during carnival... [of course you may go] ROME!" 4. "It-lee? What's my wife doing in It-lee?" 5. "No milk and crackers.")

Rachel Reviews: Harry Potter 6

Hermione miserably watches Ron enjoy attention from Lavender Brown.

I went to the theater expecting to see a movie I'd enjoy, but not to expecting to see one I'd be really impressed with. It's just another Harry Potter movie, I thought. How good could it be? It's already categorized. I didn't feel moved by movies 2--5, and I expected 6 to follow suit. Surprisingly, this wasn't a "Harry Potter movie." This was a film of highest quality in direction, editing, script, character interaction, acting, in short-- in everything. And so funny! My gosh it was funny! (recovers giddiness) I mean...ah... particularly keen use of humor. ahem.

The 1st time Harry bonded with Dumbledore since the death of Richard Harris.

It was the character interaction I found most appealing. Rather than being witches and wizards at a far away magic school, each person jumped out of the silver screen and you could feel their lives, the way they felt. Instead of watching a movie, you were watching people and relating to them, learning with them. What I found even more impressive was the portrayal of evil being present, but resistible, and that sacrifice was often the only way of defeating it.

This is a superior piece of work. Five stars.

Far and away better than any movie I've seen this summer.* Way better than the other blockbusters... even better than Star Trek and UP! (Not to mention Wolverine, that great disappointment of a movie.) If you get the chance, please watch this.

Tom Felton portrays a desperate Draco Malfoy.

*Which reminds me. If you ever get a chance to see The Hustler, starring Paul Newman, my advice is to find another Paul Newman film (I recommend Exodus) and stay far away from the Hustler. It was full of that overly-dramatic depressed fatalistic realism that old black and whites were fond of. Plus I hated the ending. Yuck.

Tuppence A Bag

For my mother, who always worries that feeding ducks large quantities of bread cannot be healthy for their systems.

Also, when I was in Houston last week ducks ate stale-pancake pieces right out of my hand. It was awesome!

THAT'S different.

AHAHAHA HAHAHA HAAAAA HAHAHA! Whoaaaaaaa. That takes my favorite fairy tale just slightly over the edge of the horror that defies description. Yeesh.

Still, my research indicates that (for me at least, with my incredibly peculiar movie interests) that this Czech/German production is worth watching. And before you all cringe and shake your heads in disgust, let me remind you that I grew up watching a grown man dancing about in a frog suit and green makeup; could anything be as ridiculous as that? Again, I say that this sparks my interest. During the ballroom scene the prince (pre-frogness) says to the girl,

"No matter what happens, I will always come back to you. I give you my word."

I'll bet she wasn't thinking that he'd show up as a particularly warty, giant frog stalking her bedroom chanting "gudnachtkuss."

500 points to any individual who finds a way for me to watch this movie in its entirety. 600 points if you can find it with subtitles.

Put a Little Spring in Your Life

Found at JunkMarketStyle.

A baby bed spring can be used for a display case or a notice board, by wedging in photos or using clips to pin them up. I think this contraption would look best hanging on a wall; the paint showing through it would be delightful, don't you think? Here it is shown sitting on an easel.

Speaking of Birds

Alicia, I think you'll really like this. I especially like the on point plie step. Embedding disabled? *sigh* Just double click.

For the Birds

I found this charming mobile design on DIYourself Blog, and fell in love with it. It just screams whimsy! If I ever get around to making it I think I'll make a black and white bird with an extra long tail-- magpies are my favorite. :)

There's something joyously cheerful about birdsong being the first sound you hear in the morning. Don't you just love birds? I do. My parents taught me about all the local types we have in Provo, and I can now identify a number of them just by the way they sound. (Thanks, Dad.)

Maybe if I sing to these birdies every morning they'd eventually perch on my finger. Or at least help me hum a happy working song. Honestly, is that really too much to ask?

So Happy To Be Here

I'm Back & Don't Forget Your Corset

May I be so fortunate as to wear this dress... if only in fantasy land*.

I'm back! Safe in the land of altitude! I had so much fun while I was away and I'll tell you all about it. But before I talk about my trip I'd like to address the subject of humidity in summer heat.

I don't think humidity is as terrible as people claim, WHEN and ONLY WHEN there is a slight breeze to accompany it (then the moisture feels cool on your skin, etc etc,) or you're in the open air (again with the air circulation thing). If however, you are standing in a stagnant, enclosed space --say, my sister's sun-room in Houston-- it may be difficult to breathe and you'll feel sick to your stomach.

But outside in the summer heat, do I find direct sunlight with no humidity to filter out the sun's death rays of I-will-incinerate-you-on-the-asphalt-if-you-even-think-of-leaving-the-shade more oppressive than humidity's good-afternoon-step-outside-and-I'll-steam-every-wrinkle-from-your-khaki-linen-pants? Yes. Yes, I do. Now I can hear what my parents are thinking. They're thinking that I didn't get to feel humidity when it was hot enough, but you know what? I still don't buy it. Dry heat is worse.

Try Arizona. I have a friend working for a roofing company down there, and after the heat-rays reflect from any given surface you get the heat not once but twice, and you are literally scalded by the sun.

During my way down to Texas my sister's family and I stopped at Four Corners. Man was that hot. Hot Hot Hot Hot Hot with all capital H hhhhhhhhawts. Way worse than Houston was.

Final Verdict: dry heat is easier to escape from than humidity; all you need is shade, whereas with humidity you have to find an air-conditioning unit. But if you're just gonna get chucked outside for a few hours, left alone to the elemental power of summertime heat, dry heat will kill you faster.


Bet you're wondering why I posted the picture of that delicious Victorian gown? For just a moment, pretend you're in the 1860's. Take whatever awful summer symptoms you're suffering and add petticoats, bloomers, a shift, stockings, a hoop skirt, and of course--a corset. Poof! We've just made summer worse!

Summon the tone of voice the alien uses on Galaxy Quest to describe the fate of the Gilligan's Island folk--"those poor people"-- and you'll have it just about right to describe ye olde populace. In those clothes, and under the skirts they wore, there would be no escape from humidity wherever you went. Talk about grim, grisly, greusome! Sounds more like dead, deathly, and dying to me.


Perhaps you were thinking that you'd get away without a corset? That you could escape its fate? Many think corsets weren't necessary and that they just gave people a smaller waist. No. That's not it. At least that's not all of it. Corsets also provided bust support (which, when you have a bust, is quite necessary to be comfortable for long periods of time, thank you very much). Don't forget your corset.

*I've visited this dress several times in fantasy land. Not to be a southern belle; if I were going to be a debutante in my head I'd be wearing a frilly, frothy, shoulder-revealing silk piece involving any number of ruffles. Yes, Kaylie, ruffles. But when I first saw this dress I instantly thought it carried the exact description of the plain dress Beauty wears in Robin McKinley's book Beauty, A Retelling of Beauty and the Beast, after refusing a ball gown out of fear of looking drab in a fancy dress. Ahhhh, what clever enchantments books are. Fantasy land is a lovely thing.