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New bloggity blog (just cuz):

http://mirrorwithoutcloud.blogspot.com/

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two please…

steven and i did lil shopping tonight for some others… then went to barnes & noble where i purchased Where the Wild Things Are & Goodnight Moon stationary card sets (i love them!)… then to corner bakery for some chicken noodle soup (so lovely on a cold, rainy friday night)… then to petsmart to look at the rodents, reptiles, and birds.  we decided that chameleons are pretty wonderful (they have thee most strange & funny feet!… have you ever noticed chameleon feet?  you should…).  and i secretly decided that i want.. not one.. but TWO spice finches… or spinches, if you will (i just made “spinch” up, i think, so don’t google it :-)).  this is a secret because i technically am deeply afraid of birds as pets.  they are waaay too unpredictable for me.  i refuse to touch or hold them.  which is a shame because they really are so darn cute.  but steven said finches are not really people friendly, so you just leave them in their cage and feed them and clean up their poo and listen to their lovely little tunes.  and i believe virtually everything steven tells me, so there you have it…. the finch and i are meant to be… someday… maybe.  and why the spice finch, you ask?  well… sheesh… just look at it for cryin out loud… is there a cuter little bird out there that just happens to be one of my favorite colors?  

do you remember when…?

Last week, one of my classes and I read one of the short stories from their reading anthology. I really enjoyed reading this story, as it reminded me of being a little kid in the grocery store, trying to not step on the light (or dark.. depending on my mood & desire for a challenge) tiles because they were “lava.” Or you have the very similar “Don’t step on a crack or…” :-). I enjoyed discussing this story with my class… it’s a good thing my classroom floor is made of those grocery-store-esque tiles ;-)… all the students had a good laugh at me as I showed off my childhood silliness awesomeness in conquering the dreaded lava-tiles. Anyway– I know I am not the only one who has had these types of childhood experiences, so I figured I would post this lovely little story for others to identify with as well. I bold-ed my most favorite parts. Smile. Chuckle. Enjoy.

p.s. oh AND it’s written by Roald Dahl… children’s literature mastermind… creator of Charlie & the Chocolate Factory, James & the Giant Peach, Matilda, Fantastic Mr. Fox, (LOVEly movie too… see it), etc…

The Wish
by Roald Dahl

Under the palm of one hand the child became aware of the scab of an old cut on his kneecap. He bent forward to examine it closely. A scab was always a fascinating thing; it presented a special challenge he was never able to resist.

Yes, he thought, I will pick it off, even if it isn’t ready, even if the middle of it sticks, even if it hurts like anything.

With a fingernail he began to explore cautiously around the edges of the scab. He got the nail underneath, and when he raised it, but ever so slightly, it suddenly came off, the whole hard brown scab came off beautifully, leaving an interesting little circle of smooth red skin.

Nice. Very nice indeed. He rubbed the circle and it didn’t hurt. He picked up the scab, put it on his thigh, and flipped it with a finger so that it flew away and landed on the edge of the carpet, the enormous red and black and yellow carpet that stretched the whole length of the hall from the stairs on which he sat to the front door in the distance. A tremendous carpet. Bigger than the tennis lawn. Much bigger than that. He regarded it gravely, setting his eyes upon it with mild pleasure. He had never really noticed it before, but now, all of a sudden, the colors seemed to brighten mysteriously and spring out at him in a most dazzling way.

You see, he told himself, I know how it is. The red parts of the carpet are red-hot lumps of coal. What I must do is this: I must walk all the way along it to the front door without touching them. If I touch the red I will be burnt. As a matter of fact, I will be burnt up completely. And the black parts of the carpet . . . yes, the black parts are snakes, poisonous snakes, adders mostly, and cobras, thick like tree trunks round the middle, and if I touch one of them, I’ll be bitten and I’ll die before tea time. And if I get across safely, without being burnt and without being bitten, I will be given a puppy for my birthday tomorrow.

He got to his feet and climbed higher up the stairs to obtain a better view of this vast tapestry of color and death. Was it possible? Was there enough yellow? Yellow was the only color he was allowed to walk on. Could it be done? This was not a journey to be undertaken lightly; the risks were too great for that. The child’s face–a fringe of white-gold hair, two large blue eyes, a small pointed chin–peered down anxiously over the banisters. The yellow was a bit thin in places and there were one or two widish gaps, but it did seem to go all the way along to the other end. For someone who had only yesterday triumphantly traveled the whole length of the brick path from the stables to the summerhouse without touching the cracks, this carpet thing should not be too difficult. Except for the snakes. The mere thought of snakes sent a fine electricity of fear running like pins down the backs of his legs and under the soles of his feet.

He came slowly down the stairs and advanced to the edge of the carpet. He extended one small sandaled foot and placed it cautiously upon a patch of yellow. Then he brought the other foot up, and there was just enough room for him to stand with the two feet together. There! He had started! His bright oval face was curiously intent, a shade whiter perhaps than before, and he was holding his arms out sideways to assist his balance. He took another step, lifting his foot high over a patch of black, aiming carefully with his toe for a narrow channel of yellow on the other side. When he had completed the second step he paused to rest, standing very stiff and still. The narrow channel of yellow ran forward unbroken for at least five yards and he advanced gingerly along it, bit by bit, as though walking a tightrope. Where it finally curled off sideways, he had to take another long stride, this time over a vicious-looking mixture of black and red. Halfway across he began to wobble. He waved his arms around wildly, windmill fashion, to keep his balance, and he got across safely and rested again on the other side. He was quite breathless now, and so tense he stood high on his toes all the time, arms out sideways, fists clenched. He was on a big safe island of yellow. There was lots of room on it, he couldn’t possibly fall off, and he stood there resting, hesitating, waiting, wishing he could stay forever on this big safe yellow island. But the fear of not getting the puppy compelled him to go on.

Step by step, he edged further ahead, and between each one he paused to decide exactly where he should put his foot. Once, he had a choice of ways, either to left or right, and he chose the left because although it seemed the more difficult, there was not so much black in that direction. The black was what made him nervous. He glanced quickly over his shoulder to see how far he had come. Nearly halfway. There could be no turning back now. He was in the middle and he couldn’t turn back and he couldn’t jump off sideways either because it was too far, and when he looked at all the red and all the black that lay ahead of him, he felt that old sudden sickening surge of panic in his chest–like last Easter time, that afternoon when he got lost all alone in the darkest part of Piper’s Wood.

He took another step, placing his foot carefully upon the only little piece of yellow within reach, and this time the point of the foot came within a centimeter of some black. It wasn’t touching the black, he could see it wasn’t touching, he could see the small line of yellow separating the toe of his sandal from the black; but the snake stirred as though sensing his nearness, and raised its head and gazed at the foot with bright beady eyes, watching to see if it was going to touch.

I’m not touching you! You mustn’t bite me! You know, I’m not touching you!

Another snake slid up noiselessly beside the first, raised its head, two heads now, two pairs of eyes staring at the foot, gazing at a little naked place just below the sandal strap where the skin showed through. The child went high up on his toes and stayed there, frozen stiff with terror. It was minutes before he dared to move again.

The next step would have to be a really long one. There was this deep curling river of black that ran clear across the width of the carpet, and he was forced by his position to cross it at its widest part. He thought first of trying to jump it, but decided he couldn’t be sure of landing accurately on the narrow band of yellow on the other side. He took a deep breath, lifted one foot, and inch by inch he pushed it out in front of him, far far out, then down and down until at last the tip of his sandal was across and resting safely on the edge of the yellow. He leaned forward, transferring his weight to this front foot. Then he tried to bring the back foot up as well. He strained and pulled and jerked his body, but the legs were too wide apart and he couldn’t make it. He tried to get back again. He couldn’t do that either. He was doing the splits and he was properly stuck. He glanced down and saw this deep curling river of black underneath him. Parts of it were stirring now, and uncoiling and sliding and beginning to shine with a dreadfully oily glister. He wobbled, waved his arms frantically to keep his balance, but that seemed to make it worse. He was starting to go over. He was going over to the right, quite slowly he was going over, then faster and faster, and at the last moment, instinctively he put out a hand to break the fall and the next thing he saw was this bare hand of his going right into the middle of a great glistening mass of black and he gave one piercing cry as it touched.

Outside in the sunshine, far away behind the house, the mother was looking for her son.

i. love. this.

here are a couple of wedding videographers that i would love to hire… but most likely cannot afford. ::sigh:: they make me feel like having a videographer is toootally necessary though. (which means they are doing their job well, i suppose, haha).  if only i had all the money in the world…

check them out.

this one is made by Monachetti videography. it’s a little lengthy… but you need to watch the entire thing. i wish i were as cool as this bride. and that i could have a wedding as cool as this one. 🙂

Justine and Gary 

 

and this guy, joel seratto.  he uses super 8mm film to record the weddings he does.  gives it an amazing vintage look.  love love love it!  

here is his blog.  (be sure to watch the ainjil + chris one).

real quick-style

when did the format for the wordpress website change? it feels weird.

i was just looking through my facebook… and re-read my “favorite quotes” section. and i thought to myself, “wow, i really love all these quotes”… i guess that would be why they are posted where they are ;-). so i decided to post them here as well… because they’re good ones.

Plato on music… “It gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, a charm to sadness, gaiety and life to everything. It is the essence of order and leads to all that is good, just, and beautiful, of which it is the invisible, but nevertheless dazzling, passionate, and eternal form.”

“I thought the most beautiful thing in the world must be shadow, the million moving shapes and cul-de-sacs of shadow. There was shadow in bureau drawers and closets and suitcases, and shadow under houses and trees and stones, and shadow at the back of people’s eyes and smiles, and shadow, miles and miles and miles of it, on the night side of the earth.”
-Sylvia Plath
The Bell Jar

“Not to a rage: patience and sorrow strove
Who should express her goodliest. You have seen
Sunshine and rain at once: her smiles and tears
Were like a better way: those happy smilets
That played on her ripe lip seemed not to know
What guests were in her eyes, which parted thence
As pearls from diamonds dropped. In brief,
Sorrow would be a rarity most beloved,
If all could so become it.”
-William Shakespeare
King Lear

“So do we pass the ghosts that haunt us later in our lives; they sit undramatically by the roadside like poor beggars, and we see them only from the corners of our eyes, if we see them at all. The idea that they have been waiting there for us rarely if ever crosses our minds. Yet they do wait, and when we have passed, they gather up their bundles of memory and fall in behind, treading in our footsteps and catching up, little by little.”
-Stephen King, Wizard and Glass (Dark Tower IV)

“Wilbur was merely suffering the doubts and fears that often go with finding a new friend. In good time he was to discover that he was mistaken about Charlotte. Underneath her rather bold and cruel exterior, she had a kind heart, and she was to prove loyal and true to the very end.”

E.B. White, Charlotte’s Web

p.s. can someone please help me avoid having to return to work on monday?? boo! oh well… at least teaching does not officially start for another two weeks. time to seriously get my butt in gear. blegh.

my man.

yeah. i love him. a whole lot.  especially when he posts things like this.  
he is so amazingly smart (and handsome to boot).  i cannot wait to marry him 🙂 .

 

p.s.  sorry i do not ever blog EVER.  7 more days left in the school year… so hopefully i will have more “chill” time to do “me” stuff after that.  however, 7 days after those 7 days i have to return to teach summer school for six weeks.  plus move my classroom to the new upland location, somehow.  plus prepare for next september (using entirely new curriculum for each of my 4 classes).  it’s going to be intense.  so “me” stuff…. prrrobably not really going to happen. boo.

21.. 22…

January 21… I was born… and January 22… Steven was born (praise the Lord!)… only he was technically born 2 years and 1 day after me  🙂  Anywho… I am super excited for this birthday week!  Not so excited to turn 24… I’m almost a quarter of a century old. boo!  How about I just stop here?  24 seems like a good place to stop aging.  

The plan for this week:  Tuesday Jenna and Paul are having us over to their lovely new home… I can’t wait!  Wednesday my parents are making a special birthday dinner of my choice… woot!  Thursday is going to be pretty lame… not because it’s Steven’s bday (of course)… but because it also happens to be WCHS open house until 8pm. and I have to go. boooo!  don’t even get me started on that one. haha.  Friday we’ll take a lovely day of rest for the Sabbath… and Saturday evening we’ll get down and do some serious eating at buca di beppo with all of our lovely family and close friends.  It’s gonna be the bessst  🙂  I think it will be a good week (aside from turning 24 and open house).  

These are some pictures from birthday time last year.  Just thought I’d put ’em up… remembering when I had just turned 23… ah.. seems like only yesterday.  haha.  And check out the sweeet cake I had made.  It was intense.  I miss it  🙂  

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