The day in the life of a person with a corded cell phone.

Wake up. Turn your phone on, which died during the night. Start to listen to your two new voice mail messages, but the phone shuts off before the first message finishes. Plug the phone in, turn the phone back on, and listen to the rest of the messages. Let the phone charge. Pack your belongings for school, tossing your phone charger into your backpack for on-campus phone use.

Get on the bus. See your brother drive through the roundabout in front of your bus! Pull out your cell phone to call him because you’re so excited, and realize your phone will probably die right when he says hello. Remember you brought your handy-dandy phone charger. Scan the inner perimeter of the bus in search of an outlet. None. Call brother anyway because it is worth the risk. (Going a month without a battery has taught you to talk fast.)

That crazy thing called love.

It’s 10:15 a.m. I’m sitting on my bed editing Wilfried Decoo’s book on writing language-teaching textbooks while half listening to the conversations floating through my walls. “Em, where’s your purse?” My roommate Kate’s sister and brother-in-law spent the night en route to Disneyland, and the two of them are now in the kitchen and up and down the stairs gathering their belongings before heading to the airport.

Those words, “Em, where’s your purse?” communicated much to me, but mostly I got the feeling that this man is taking care of his wife. To most of you that makes sense and is an everyday phenomenon, but to me that is extraordinary. I’ve never been a part of that world, and to this day it’s hard for me to fathom a man loving me enough to help me gather my belongings. Why should he care? Because I am important to him and it makes him happy to take care of me? Because he loves me? Or maybe, he doesn’t want to be late to the airport and is hurrying me along. Okay, that sounds more realistic to me. I just can’t comprehend the whole love thing, but it sounds really, really nice.

Still

Eyes see outward and eyes see in. Close your eyelids for a moment. Go to where the warm breeze blows and the sun scorches just like you like it. Go back in time to re-enjoy that sliver of a moment that vanished before you could taste it. Go anywhere. See, it's easy. Now turn on your own happy, free-flowing music mix, and close your eyes. Keep 'em closed while you begin to sway and dance. You feel the music, don't you? You feel the motion of the notes and the meaning in the words, just as music hopes you would. Deeper than any open-eyed experience could allow you. As I savor the notes individually, time lingers and stills. I'm making art with my body.


Photo by Helen Levitt, 1940.

Lisa Hannigan just may be my true love.

This is my most beautiful artistic/musical discovery by far. Well, I actually can't take the credit. A friend introduced me to Lisa Hannigan the morning before she came to Salt Lake, just two days ago. So I went to her free concert at the Graywhale a block west of campus. I fell in love before hearing her live, and then fell harder seeing her in person and talking with her afterwards. The thing that sets her apart to me is the creativity that encompasses her lyrics, fashion, music, and music videos. Seeing her and listening to her makes me restless to create. See if this video does the same for you.

Attention Walmart Shoppers

This Web site of real-life Walmart customers is what I like to call nasty-fantasty. Click here if you dare. Don't say I didn't warn you.

When to ride a scooter

I was reminded today of the time I decided to ride my Razor to school—college that is. Big-kid school. So I set out, kicking away at the streets and sidewalks underneath me. Kicking away as the incline got steeper and steeper. Since when was campus uphill? I thought, a tinge annoyed. I'd never noticed the hill even though I'd walked to class every day of college. My kicking left leg got slower and slower until I decided to walk and then hold the scooter while I crossed over to the baseball stadium. My forehead was literally dripping. I'm known to drip. Half way there. The rest should've been a piece of cake, right? It was terribly embarrassing crossing over Bulldog Avenue because my left leg was limp by then, and I was wobbling on my right leg. I was spent. By the time I got to the JKHB, I'd removed my white hooded sweatshirt and was running my finger tips across my face to wipe it dry before class. And what do you do with a Razor scooter while you're in class? I slid it under my desk, hoping I wouldn't forget it. Well, my left leg was rubber the next day, and my back hurt from leaning over. Without too much thought, I decided to retire my scooter as campus transport.

So when I was walking through the lightly sprinkling rain on the U's campus today and heard a thud, squeak...thud, sqeak and then immediately saw a girl awkwardly kicking at the sidewalk to get going, I felt for her. Poor silly girl. At least the rain was coming down to hide her glistening forehead and armpit sweat circles.

Another new start?

Is it bad that I am a liar? A flat-out, no-good liar? I said I would be blogging regularly again and I meant it, but then that great idea got lost in the files of my memory. Buried completely. And since I haven't been blogging, I haven't been looking at your blogs either. So here goes for another shot at being a regular again. I can never go too long without writing before my thoughts start tugging on my heart . . . or vice a versa.

Sneak Preview

So since a lot of people outside of you my private inside friends have been asking about filming The Generations Project, I'm going to write all about that on my Egypt blog. BUT of course there are plenty of stories . . . plenty . . . that belong in this blog. So just know that both my blogs are now back up and running, so don't forget to check A Mediterranean Climate too. I've missed you guys!

A One-Liner

So what happened to blogging? I don't know how to multitask anymore! So much has happened. I now live in a cute house with red shutters in Salt Lake City, just a couple blocks from the Emigration Canyon. My cousin Laney and I actually went hiking in the canyon this morning and found a hidden unmarked trail with a little river running along side and TWO plank bridges. It's so nice to be close to the mountains!

Classes ended on Friday. All A's!! Filming The Generations Project finishes on Tuesday. The whole experience was priceless. Details TK. Three weeks ago Daniel, my 21-year-old bro, came home from two years of being a missionary in Spain. He loved it. Nate, my 18-year-old bro, leaves for a mission in Africa on August 21st. Jude Benjamin Newbold was born July 9th, and I love him to pieces. I spent Tuesday and Wednesday in Provo helping Chels, and I got to play a lot outside with Emma, which of course was hilarious. That little girl is so smart and cute and funny and determined. I don't want to think about them moving to Washington in a month. Chels is such a good mom. Two kids is definitely trouble. Mom's been staying with Chels the past two weeks while Brad's been on a dig in Southern Utah.

Okay. That's enough for now. I was planning on only giving a one-liner. Good night!

The Life and Ministry of Jesus Christ Radio Dramas

I just added a new link called LDS Radio—you should see it in the right-hand column of my blog with my other links. It's a brand new radio! Once you're on the radio Web site, click on the side link called "The Light of Men." My dad writes the scripts for the radio drama and has been working like crazy the past couple months to perfect things to give us a quality experience with the stories of Jesus. Let me know what you think. It was actually his idea to start doing these kinds of old-skool dramas again, since they were such a big part of his early years of acting. Brad and I grew up listening to Joseph of Egypt and David & Goliath. So now the radio dramas are back for the next generation.