word of the day

thomas (tho`-mas)

n.

1. an angel sent from heaven in the form of a white-haired, blue-eyed kitty cat.

2. a carnivorous mammal who endures hours of being lugged around by ten year old girls playing dress up.

"just one more hour of playtime and i will be free to sleep and and nag rachael for lunch meat all i want," thought thomas dreamily as she let emma and her friends put knit hats and scarves all over her.

synonyms: tommy, doomy (a play off of tommy), tom cat, t-jiminator, jim, jim cat, and wom. the origins of these names go too far back and cannot be traced. it is reported that thomas responds to all of said names, even wom.

no jalepeno ranch

if there is one person that is really getting on my nerves during finals week...it's the guy at the quesadilla stand in the cafeteria. the one who told me they were out of jalepeno ranch. do not tell me that this week. and then when the other guy asked me if i wanted pico de gallo and i said yes, the one guy said "we're out of that too. sorry...i was hungry!" hungry? you were hungry? i'm hungry! and i'm a paying customer! and you don't eat pico de gallo if you're hungry!

ok. that's all. i'm going to study chemistry. satan's pastime. either/or.

the pursuit of happiness

i would like to make a public announcement:

i am switching my major. (well, dropping it really.)

i am going into taxidermy.

let me tell you how i decided that: every day when morgan and i walk out of chemistry, we pass some professor's office who has posing, taxidermed animals up the wazoo. we have the exact same conversation everyday.

"let's go into taxidermy. i don't want to take any more chemistry classes."

"ok."

"we have this conversation every day."

"i know."

we even looked up the "12 easy steps to getting a taxidermy license!"

so. i will not show up for my finals, i will drop out of school, (and by doing so, spite everyone in the medical field who is inevitably crying because i will not be gracing their presence), and i will pursue that little piece of paper that lets me stuff animals with cotton.

angels and devils on my shoulders

sometimes i just get sick of college life. especially right now, when things are just stressful and not fun and i realize "i do not get a break from this." i know that life is not supposed to be just fun. sometimes it is and sometimes it isn't. traveling is fun. studying for finals is not fun. and that's ok. but right now is not one of those fun times because i do have finals, i am drowning in homework, i don't know how i'm going to get it all done, and then when i do, there are more problems to worry about. like hounding managers to see if they read my application and will maybe possibly kindly have some mercy on me and give me a job? and making other really big decisions in my life that only affect me. those are the worst decisions to make. there is always something to worry about. always something lingering in the back of my mind. and i don't get a break from it! i know, welcome to life, rachael!

sometimes i imagine god laughing at me, blindly stumbling around this maze called life. in the dark. with no end in sight. with venomous demon snakes biting at my heels. and little angels with halos and devils with red suits and fiery pitchforks on my shoulders saying "go this way!" "no, this way!" i'm sure god's thinking "you're doing ok, kid," but that doesn't mean the venomous snakes don't bite and the angels and devils don't annoy the heck out of me. i wish i could smash them into little squash marks on my shirt.

it's ok. i'll get my finals done. i'll get a job at one of the places i applied and if not, i'll keep applying. i'll keep praying and get answers to my big decisions. sometime soon i'll feel reassured about my direction. that thought at least gives me peace.

"such a beautiful place...to be with friends"

my halloween masterpiece

what an emotional HP7 midnight screening. it was emotional for me and the rest of the wizarding community. if you didn't go see it....well, then i don't want a filthy mudblood like you dirtying my URL! i didn't realize i would cry so much. i cried on and off for the whole movie. like, slobbery, wipe-your-nose-on-your-shirt kind of crying. the whole movie and for at least half an hour after we got home. my roommate was seriously getting nervous around me. i don't think i can even handle going to see the last part. i think it may kill me! i'll probably explode out of sheer...harry potter-ness.

RIP DOBBY, THE GREATEST HOUSE ELF EVER TO ROAM FREE!!!!

"such a beautiful place...to be with friends"

p.s. the taste of mountain dew is the taste of homework all nighters and HP midnight premieres and those two things only.

i'm in love, i'm in love, and i don't care who knows it!

i have a love affair with the earth. i could spend all my time with it and never get bored. we are in love. me with the earth and the earth with me. we are so infatuated with each other that we give each other silly compliments like "mother nature, you are looking lovely today" and "rachael, i am giving rexburg this gorgeous sunset just for you." sometimes i under-appreciate it and i always run back saying "i don't know what i was thinking! the tv just has a way of luring me in! will you please forgive me??"....

....and it always does. because our love is strong.

most of the time i just feel like the earth wears the pants in our relationship. i need it more than it needs me. and i just think it is so mysterious and elusive. i never know what it's thinking! it doesn't talk very much. but it's always there.

have you ever read the alchemist? it's a good book. one of the main themes is the soul of the world. i totally think the earth has a soul, a spirit and it kind of freaks me out at the same time that it enamors me. it's alive and you can just sense it when you're surrounded by nature and you can hear the wind blowing, the river flowing, the grass growing. (alright, i only said that last one because i coulnd't pass up the perfect rhyme...pretty good, huh?) but i do think there is something magical about the earth. when i sit still, i can hear, or more likely, sense the earth's aliveness. when the earth is loud, like during a thunderstorm, it's alive. when it's quite, like during a silent, peaceful snowstorm, it's alive.

some of my best memories are when i am camping far away from civilization. it's cold, dark, the crickets are loudly harmonizing, the mountains are wisely looking down on me and i feel so ridiculously connected to the earth. not coincidentally, it's almost always when i feel the closest to the spirit. i can't be bothered with worldly problems when i'm in nature because nature is so....un-worldly.

today, i got out of my car after my new self-defense class (i'm stoked, by the way!) and there was the most beautiful sunset spilling over the mountains and some great second coming clouds. and the temple was right there, right across the street from me, next to this sunset, and i just stopped for a minute and stood in the parking lot and said a prayer of thanks, which i don't remember to do very often. and that was one of those moments when i remembered my sometimes-forgotten love affair with the earth.

but instead of bringing the earth flowers and chocolates, instead of giving it a back rub after a long day of work, i think it just wants me to appreciate it and remember it's existence. gosh, i love a low maintenance relationship.

love: we're so in it.

i left my heart in india

i wrote this narrative for my english class and it made me miss my faraway india :)

Bangles

Grandpa was absolutely right when he said the smell would hit at about 6,000 feet altitude. I plug my nose and think that it must be the airplane food, but then I remember that chicken doesn’t smell like this. In fact, nothing smells like this. I would rather stick my head into the kitchen trash can than smell this. The pilot announces that we’ll be landing in New Delhi shortly and I’m torn between home and here, fear and excitement.

It takes me a minute of staring unperturbed and groggily at the rat-infested sidewalk to realize where I am. I’m in India. It has always been a fictional destination in my mind, one that I never thought I’d actually see. Am I really here? The last nine months have been a whirlwind of preparation for this humanitarian expedition, in which I’ll be teaching in an orphanage in the little town of Chamba. Since February, I have raised thousands of dollars, written press releases, sold my pitch to businesses, and planned medical workshops. Planning to go to India is one thing. Being here is another.

The next day is our first real encounter with the city. The smell hasn’t left my nose but now I realize what it is: burning heaps of trash. Everywhere. I see a dog, a cow, and a monkey all eating from the same pile of garbage. I’m sure this is the first time I’ve seen a man pee right in the street. There are several tents on every street block and I peek in one to catch a glimpse of a family’s life, like an open book, in their haggard faces and few possessions. Children, young, barefooted, and dirty tug at my sleeves and put their hands out to sell me a necklace or ask for money. I know they don’t work for themselves; human trafficking is a way of life for many children in India. When the sun goes down, we spend some time shopping in Old Delhi before our overnight train ride. The loud music, the crowded streets, the grabbing hands, the lustful look in the men’s eyes scare me enough to wish I’d never seen this place. I cuddle up with my blanket on the train while drunken Indian men slur in Hindi in the bunk next to me.

***

Our jeep makes its way down into the small town of Chamba, nestled deep into a valley at the foot of the Himalayas. The mountains are carved with rice terraces, like shallow green stairs and look especially majestic with rhythmic Indian music pounding in the SUV. I’ve been half way out the window snapping pictures for the past six hours, like an excited puppy with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. It’s taken me almost a year- plus forty eight hours of travel time- to get here and I’m trying to drink everything in. I notice houses dangling over the ledge of the mountain, possibly in danger of crumbling and falling into the angry river below. As we get into the heart of the town, I realize that it’s surprisingly charming in a way I can’t place. Every building is old and decrepit. A cow meanders through the main street. Dozens of kiosks showcase brightly colored scarves and bags.

The first run-in with my particular orphanage can only be described as somber. A couple of splintered wood planks here, a rusty piece of tin there. It seems to be leaning to one side and I’m almost afraid my breath will knock the whole structure over. Two small children run out, giggling and holding hands. “Namaste,” we say, and they can’t seem to stop giggling shyly. We make the rounds of introductions and stutter simple Hindi phrases we’ve learned. There is not an Indian child in sight that is not absolutely beautiful. They are exotic and dark; I want to reach out and touch their smooth milk chocolate faces. Although rotting at the gumline, their teeth look magnificently white against blackened complexions. It’s the eyes I can’t get over, though. They are large, white, glassy orbs with a twinkle and brightness that only comes with this kind of innocence and simplicity. Their irises range from light speckled gold to deep black. The ones my age look twenty years older, a testament to the difficult lives they’ve known.

The orphanage mistress takes us down the street to the school where we will be teaching. We’ve been warned in advance, but I still can’t stop the knot from tightening in my throat when I see the orphans under the stairs. They can’t afford uniforms and therefore aren’t allowed in the classrooms. No uniforms, no paid teachers, no school supplies except a piece of slate and chalk. These are the kids I’ll be teaching.

I have a pit in my stomach as we drive home and realize what a spoiled brat I am. A house in America, a car, a family who takes care of me, the gospel, an education, a list that doesn’t end. I suspect everyone else in the car is thinking the same thing. I imagine my mom serving a home-cooked meal in Salt Lake. I imagine cold lentils and curry served here twice a day.

The days go by quickly. We teach, we play, we bond. The language barrier is not an issue; we’ve discovered the universal language of physical touch. We share more hugs, kisses, and high fives than words, but this seems to melt the ice in a way verbal communication can’t. One day, the mistress tells us the girls are musically gifted but have no instruments, so we buy them instruments in town on our lunch break. They squeal and hug us and put on a show. I feel truly happy and can’t stop smiling. Giving feels contagious. We give them shoes, hygiene kits, and school uniforms. They give us more hugs and an enthusiastic “Dhanyavad!” We learn the government deems them unworthy of “higher education” and therefore has given them no hope for a future. We tell them we love them. They tell us in broken English that they will come to America someday. On the second to last day, we sing them Phil Collins’ “You’ll Be in My Heart” and the last chorus is sung in Hindi. We start to cry because they were only words until now. 17 year old Pushpa says "Don't cry, we have happy life!"

On our last day with the girls, we give them each a set of bangles- a dozen metal bracelets that sparkle and jingle when you walk. They don’t want to keep them for themselves; they want to share with us. Little hands shove bangles on our wrists, even though I have bought enough to last me a lifetime. They have nothing, and by nothing I mean the clothes on their backs, but they are quick to share. It’s not hard to see that they are more content than us, the privileged Americans. Something clicks in my head and I realize bangles don’t make them happy. Is that what makes me happy? I learn something about contentment from these orphans that sticks with me for a long time. We go back to the hostel and give almost all of our clothes to the cooks and their families.

I leave Chamba and I am the same spoiled eighteen-year old that I was three weeks ago. But I better understand these people as they have let me glimpse into their simple and happy lives. Etched in my head are those beautiful smiles, bright eyes, and dirty hands that have shown me the value of inherent happiness. And I’ve never felt better. I’ll go back someday.

***

Two days later, we are in Jaipur and it’s Thanksgiving Day. I eat a Cliff bar and two fruit leathers for dinner. It’s the best Thanksgiving dinner I’ve ever had.

ask me how to grow up, i dare you

remember when you were in 2nd grade and you thought that the 6th graders were so old and mature? i mean, their backpacks were so heavy. it just seemed really cool and sophisticated to have a lot of homework and books in your backpack. remember in 6th grade when you thought the 8th graders were cool and smooth? they have a 7 period sechedule. gosh, that seemed fantastic. remember 8th grade when you thought those high school juniors were the bees knees? they were dating and driving! the major leap of sophistication. and then, when you were in high school, you thought you'd have your whole life figured out by 20. you'd be smart, put together, cool and composed, mature, and i daresay.....an adult, finally!

well guess what? i'm 20 now. am i put together? do i have my life figured out? NO! i still think of myself as the little 12 year old girl just entering young womens. i don't know anything about life! i'm a child! i'm just trying to figure out what kind of person i am! ok, ok, no one really has their life figured out by 20, but the fact still remains and it makes me a little uncomfortable.

i feel like my life is somewhat of a contradiction. i have different interests that pull me in different directions. i'd like to go on a mission in a year. i'd like to stay put and power through nursing or med school. i'd like to spend a year saving up and then spend a year traveling. (that one's not going to happen, but i would in a heartbeat.) i'd like to meet the boy, get married, and start a family. i'd like to not be tied down. what would i like??? i don't know!

who am i? am i a smart, curious student? am i an artsy dreamer? am i categorized? who is rachael? i mean, i know i'm just me, but who is 'me'? it's hard to see what kind of person you are when you're so close to yourself. i mean, i never leave myself! have i made any personal progress over the past few years? should i be wise?

this semester, i was told by the bishop's first counselor that "the relief society has requested your help as a teacher." WHAT?! at first i panicked. i can't teach! some of these girls are return missionaries! they should teach me!

but you know what? it's also kind of fun not knowing. just a little. my college experience so far has not been what i thought it would have been. i never thought i'd be in rexburg, i never thought i'd have spontaneously jumped on a plane to china for four months, i never thought i'd have met the people that i have. i won't lie, there have been times i've been so frustrated with life that i just sit down and cry. but guess what? it always works out. it always will. so i guess it's ok that i don't have anything figured out and that i'm just stumbling through college by trial and error. i always look at people and assume that they have everything under control, but no one really does! ok.....well maybe oprah does. i can't imagine her ever confused about life. she's probably not even human. but the rest of us just pretend like we know what we're doing. must be all part of the human experience. but...

those 23 year olds look positively poised....

christopher nolan loves me!

i have really serious issues. i don't know why i have to be the way i am. when i read "life of pi", i couldn't sleep for, like, four nights. i just sat there and looked at the ceiling and thought about zoos and tigers and india. after the series finale of lost, i must have slept for a total of 8 hours that whole week. a combination of the twisting, thought-provoking ending and the sad empty "it's over" feeling kept me up late at night, alone with my fast and furious thoughts. but i can't think of a better experience than reading a really good book or watching a really good movie that makes you think for days after you finish.

today, i only have one question that i'm mulling over. actually it's one question that encompasses atleast a hundred more that i have....

WAS THE TOP WOBBLING?!?!

i saw inception on friday and it absolutely blew my mind. BLEW MY MIND! i can't stop thinking about it. i loved it. if i could go see it again right now, i would. i have never been in a theater where the emotions of everyone was so tangible. everyone sucked in their breathe at the same time, gasped at the same time, clutched the arm chair anxiously at the same time. ok, i can't prove that last one to you, but it was a whole different experience.

and then when we were walking out of the theater, i was as sad as i always get when i watch a really good movie or read a good book. i felt involved in that plot for the past two hours! how rude to just throw me back out on the street.

there is something about me that is not hard to figure out. i am the person that big blockbuster filmmakers love. i am the person that is easily manipulated. if they try to get me to cry, i'll cry. if they try to get me to laugh, i'll laugh.

armageddon? i was so nervous, i thought i was going to puke from start to finish.

titanic? jack and rose! classic couple! and the violinists? get me every time.

toy story 3? cried and cried and cried.

ok, so i'm that person! is there something so wrong with that? christopher nolan must love me because i am going back to see inception. in fact, i'm buying it december 7th. that's when it comes out; i already checked.

oh by the way, of course the top wobbled.

this is my beautiful house

i've been thinking a lot about simple things. i read a really great book this summer called "happiness project" by gretchen rubin. in the first chapter, she tells about a bus ride home one day when she came to the realization that she was in danger of wasting her life away. she wasn't unhappy; she is married to a great man with two beautiful daughters and a good job, but she felt like she was taking her life for granted. she made the analogy of waiting your whole life for your beautiful house and just getting by on less until you have it. then one day, you look around and realize "this is not my beautiful house." do you ever just wait for your life to start? i sometimes do. and then i realize this is my life. the thing is, i really have a great life. not just a great life, but a fantastic one. i have been so blessed with an amazing family and good friends and experiences that can't be duplicated. i sometimes feel like i don't deserve to have such a good life. but i think we all take what we have for granted...no matter how awesome our lives really are. the grass will always be greener....when you have a boyfriend or.....when you buy a nice house or....when you start making good money. but the grass is green wherever you make it green. gretchen rubin decided that she wanted to change her life without changing her life. so she spent a whole year working on bettering herself in twelve different aspects of her life, one for each month. one for marriage, one for friends, one for attittude, one for family, one for energy, etc. she charted her progress every day in the smallest aspects and by the end of the year she had discovered a few things. she hadn't changed her life, but she had more gratitude for her life. she also discovered that everyone has a scale of happiness. so no matter what life you have been given, you have control over your position on the happiness scale, which is your potential for being happy.

i've been really careful since reading "happiness project" to not live in the future or the past. live in the moment. BE the moment. be happy for what you are doing right now. last weekend, a friend took me out to a quartet concert here in rexburg. i was closing my eyes, listening to the cello and the acordian play this beautiful parisian song and all of a sudden i could not stop smiling. have you ever been hit with an overwhelming sense of happiness for no reason? in the middle of your oridnary day, you are unexpectedly overcome with a sense of happiness, peace, and the thought that you're A-OK, and you just continue what you were doing with a little extra skip in your step. i wasn't even here, i was floating in this happy place, for just a few minutes. well, i'd be lying if i said that i've been able to constantly live in this state of happiness. i yell, cry, get frustrated, get jealous, blow up over small things. but by being aware of my happiness and the simple things throughout the day (it helps that i have to keep a "hand of the lord" journal for one of my classes), i'm dwelling somewhere higher up on my happiness scale.

i don't want to be one of those people who die waiting for their lives to start! this is it, i only have one chance, and i am going to take every opportunity that i can to be happy about it. i want to die a truly happy person with no regrets. it's all about attitude. this is my beautiful house!

P.S. i'm going to start blogging more often. i've kind of fallen off the bandwagon :)

i DON'T get by with a little help from suzanne collins

*spoiler alert*

warning: DO NOT READ THIS POST IF YOU HAVEN'T READ "MOCKINGJAY" YET!

(don't say i didn't warn you....)

ok, i don't even know where to start with this book. i jumped on the hunger games bandwagon pretty late, but i've still had a good six months to get excited for mockingjay, formulate theories, created opinions on certain people, etc. well, ok, i guess it's not surprising that my expectations exceeded the reality of the book. (i ALWAYS do that. how can i not have high expectations after the first and second?) and it's not that my theories weren't correct or anything, it's just the way suzanne collins went about the third book. i have so many thoughts on this, i can't even keep them straight. here's why i was really disappointed....

-first and foremost....the love triangle. it totally takes a backseat in the third book and if there is a book for the love triangle to take a backseat, it's NOT the last! i really wish kat would have ended up with gale, and i know that opinion is purely emotional instead of logical. (for the record, i understand that collins wrote everything the way she did on purpose and that it's supposed to be realistic instead of optimistic and fairy-tale rainbows la la la. i'll get to more of that later.) so i keep trying to come up with how she could have ended up with gale in these circumstances and i have to begrudgingly admit that it's more realistic for her to be with peeta. but really? the bomb? i am thoroughly convinced kat would have been with gale if the bomb had never been dropped. it was an easy way out of the love triangle. make it easy to pick without killing someone off. but even then, kat didn't pick. gale left and she just kind of ended up with peeta because he was there. i hoped she would have made a decision earlier on in the book, but by the second to last page, you're still wondering what is going on. one page, she's saying how she longs for gale and wonders if he's kissing other lips. the next page, in the VERY LAST paragraph, she decides she loves peeta. where did that come from? a little explanation, katniss? or should i say...suzanne? ARE YOU READING THIS, SUZANNE??? ARE YOU HEARING ME?! it was confusing and muddled. it was just a let down because for the whole two books before, you are wondering, hoping, praying, that she'll be with the one you want, which will be a profound part of the book and that you'll be able to see the fruits of her decision! but you don't get any of that. (well, the fruits of her decision is that peeta begs her to have childrem she never wanted to have for fifteen years until she finally gives in. and they live a miserable life together {so it is implied.}) it really isn't a big part of the book at all. which is a let down mainly because you were lead to believe otherwise. and can we get to the heart of the problem? the heart of why i am so sad? because kat and gale's departure is so unceremonious and anti-climactic that i didn't realize it was their last meeting until the book was over. wait, what? gale? her best friend in the entire world? her other half since they were young and scared and fatherless? the one she went hunting with and grew up with and told all her secrets to? the one who she declared in catching fire belongs to her and she to him and it can't be any other way? the one she got teary-eyed over when she thought he was going to die? (did you notice her only thoughts about killing peeta was that he was a burden? ok, ok, so he wasn't really himself, but still...) he goes off to some glamorous job in district two, which i cannot picture because he is not a glamorous boy, but a simple hunter. and they never see each other again. peeta=miserable life with children in district twelve that makes me so depressed i can't even stand it. gale=the man with whom she shares a fire, and with whom i imagined helping build panem together into a place that he is passionate about and that she doesn't have to see anyone innocent die. but no. they just kind of....meander out of each other's lives without you even realizing it. gale is such a freaking warrior that i don't doubt he's out there re-building panem (his passion makes me woozy) and typically being a champion.

-none of the deaths serve a purpose. at all. whatsoever! prim was the reason kat entered the hunger games and ends up dead anyway. they all died so unceremoniously. finnick! (not only did he leave annie alone, but crazy, too.) prim! boggs! they all die for no reason. which makes me mad, because i instantly blame lazy writing. cheap shockers. they get old.

-the end was totally....anti-climactic. (have you noticed that's my key word for the whole book?) the only thing kat really did that was impressive was shooting coin. she kind of just was walking through the streets, then a bomb blew up, she woke up, killed coin instead of snow, went back to sleep, woke up again, didn't even go to her own trial, went back to sleep, tried to kill herself....went back to distric 12, with nothing. NOTHING. i mean, is it too much to hope for some epic final battle? i personally imagined kat coming into herself and leading a heroic rebellion with gale. i guess war is not glamorous, though and that's the ENTIRE message of this book. no character development, no good plot, even. all you are left with is a bunch of sorry excuses for people and the thought "war is bad." which i get is what collins was trying to do. but...come on! not everyone is going to be happy, happy, happy, of course. but a little friendship? a little glimmer of hope? a little bit of mankind's redeeming qualities? life isn't always happy, can't we get a little relief in our favorite fictional books? not one person in this book is happy in the end! i just think that the first two books are uplifting and lead you on to believe that there will be hope and love and triumph in the end. but the third book says "no. there will be no hope and love and triumph. because that is how war is." i guess that's some peoples cup of tea...but not mine!

-there is no transcendence. i really was hoping (and expecting) that kat would come out of this LIFE CHANGING trial with a sense of self and as a stronger, deeper person. and that's really the only reason i was able to bear how SAD the whole book was. i kept thinking "it has to get worse before it gets better." but...it only got worse. whatever the opposite of transcendence is...happened. it spiraled downhill until everyone was left a shell of who they used to be. the summary of the end is: "i tried to kill myself. i sleep away my problems. my mom is gone, so greasy sae makes me soup. haymitch spends the rest of his life smashed past the point of pity. i wonder where gale is? who's he kissing? peeta finds me. we eventually get back together. we are sad. peeta forces me to have children. we are sad. life goes on. i guess. how sad." and what about panem? the whole book is about re-creating panem. so was it remade? i don't know, collins, you tell me.

-collins doesn't exactly make you want to be on anyone's side. you're not rooting for the capitol. you're not rooting for the rebels. you're not rooting for gale, who is portrayed as a heartless, cold killer, which i think is kind of contradictory to the past two books. you're not rooting for peeta, who is not the peeta we love, but crazy peeta. i feel like collins made out everyone to be the bad guy.

in suzanne collins defense and everyone else who disagrees with me: this is how it would end if it were real life. it's what people become from war. i just walked away from the book feeling really depressed and uninspired, which is a sad way to look at your last mental image of a good book.

basically, i thought it was a really great trilogy with a really bad ending. i'm trying to be at peace with it because i cannot stand to have bitter feelings toward the hunger games. hey, it's transcendence in progress.

a word on words

something that i always think about and can never figure out the answer to is how did the english language (or any language) come about? did all the cavemen have a big meeting about what to call different things? if so, then how did they convey the need for a meeting without words? or did one person just decide on some words? how did it catch on? how did we even decide on one word for a certain thing and how did we come up with words for for things you can't show, like "love"? how did letters and words and complicated languages come about?

one more thing...who came up with the word "lanyard"? of every word in the english language that doesn't sound like what it is, "lanyard" is the worst. when i hear that word, i don't think of a sort of necklace that holds your keys. i think of a grand, sophisticated patio that overlooks cape cod. (i.e. "pat, darling, why don't we go open a bottle of champagne on the lanyard?")

maybe i'll buy a house one day in cape cod with a beautiful lanyard.

a post about Harry Potter

if there is anything i love in this world more than eating costco samples for lunch (which i love a lot) it's Harry Potter. as a preface to this post, i would like to point out that i never-EVER- use caps while blogging ("don't be lazy!" says my dad) except for Things Associated With Harry Potter. because Things Associated With Harry Potter are to be treated with the utmost respect and deserve to be given a little more attention than topics in small caps. i am one of the faithful followers from the beginning. i comforted Harry when his loyal Nimbus Two Thousands was smashed to smithereens. i was under his Invisibility Cloak during all those late nights wandering around the castle, holding my breath in hopes that we weren't caught by Snape or Mrs. Norris. i cried with Harry during the wee hours of the morning over the loss of our friends. we grew up together! me and Harry, Harry and me! there's so much attachment to Harry Potter in me that my mind gets all tangled up when i try to explain it. i'm sure i could talk about Harry Potter for hours and hours and hours, but i'll stick to a few thoughts.

-every time a new book came out, there was dispute about who got to read it first amongst the kids and every time, i won. i suspect if any of us kids have a falling out with each other, it'll be over who loves Harry Potter more. ("well, can you tell me what Uncle Vernon chortles on page 11 of Sorcerer's Stone when Dudley throws his cereal against the wall? didn't think so.")

-i truly, honestly didn't know what to do with myself for a few days after i finished the seventh book. i walked around with an empty, hollow pit in my stomach and heart. "you can read them again!" someone dumbly pointed out to me. "it's not the same!" i wailed. i felt so alone. i thought i must have had the dementor's kiss. what was there to live for? (now i realize that lots of people probably felt the same way, but i still felt alone.) it was just a sad week. i still get a lump in my throat just thinking that it's over.

-my mom sometimes tells us that we need to widen our variety of books. "read something else for a change!" she can't comprehend that we've read each book multiple times. i can't comprehend that she hasn't.

-Albus Dumbledore is a greater person than you or i could ever hope to be. i have never felt prouder of somebody than our twinkly-eyed, crooked nose, all-knowing Dumbledore.

-my friend and i have spent countless hours in the library (with our anatomy homework pushed aside) having deep and philosophical discussions about Harry Potter instead. we've truly come up with a belief that there is a wizarding world. J.K. Rowling is a witch who decided to write a book (a biography, really) about Harry Potter and their world. of course it's too fantastic to beleive so no muggle would ever actually take it seriously. (however, i imagine this was a serious controversy within the Ministry of Magic.) but we know the truth. we get it. for christmas, my friend gave me a "Dumbledore's Army" shirt and one of our own set of two way mirrors, like Harry and Sirius's.

-i would never have any reason to complain if i were a Weasley. who does not want to be a part of the Weasley family? funny and loud and endearingly brave. no, scratch that. if i were a Weasley, then i couldn't marry a Weasley. correction: i would never have any reason to complain if i married into the Weasley family.

so if one day, i just up and disappear, don't be surprised to see me waving happily in the Daily Prophet as Mrs. George Weasley, mother of five beautiful red-headed wizards, best friend of Harry Potter, and Hogwart's new professor of Muggle Studies. i belong there, dang it.

P.S. happy birthday harry :)

let's rock, let's rock, let's rock today

my dad just bought a new motorcycle.

which means that i basically inherited his old nissan altima. so i am proud to say that i learned to drive that blasted stick shift. granted, i can't really drive with the AC on because it makes it gutless, but it's a car to take up to school, so i'll take it! actually, i think it's kind of nice compared to lyle. i have a thing for old junkers. they have more character than newer, nicer cars (although i wouldn't say no to a mercedes g-wagon....). well, the heart of this blog post is that i can't drive a nameless car, so the fam came up with some ideas for a name. the contenders were:

dr. leo marvin- crossed it out because dr. leo marvin wouldn't drive an old altima. he might drive, say, that g-wagon...but not an old altima. maybe a new altima....but not an old altima.

bob- seems like a pretty standard name, but then when i introduce it, i'd have to add that it's not just any bob, but bob wiley. anyway, bob's too mundane a name.

larry- you know, nerdy asian larry from "school of rock." then again, i'd have to explain that to people and i don't even know larry's last name, so i'd have to say something like "come on, larry from 'school of rock'" and then i'd have to show them the "let's rock, let's rock, let's rock today" handshake.

ned shneebly- doesn't roll off the tongue.

and then...my brother, who is on a mission, gave us the inspiration in an email.

dewey finn. the altima is dewey finn. not cool and slick, kind of fat, a loser on every level. so if you see me driving my little altima around, give a little moment of silence for dewey finn, because i can't think of a better person to give tribute to.

oh, and if you don't know who dewey finn is...go watch "school of rock" and hope that you are forgiven for your ignorance.

manipulating the system

if you are ever in a state of powerlessness and helplessness, i have a remedy for you that will make you feel like the merciless, all powerful being that you, dear reader, are.

when i'm in my car at a stop light and the opportunity arises (i.e. the person in the car behind me is fully stopped and not preoccupied), i ever-so-slightly inch the car forward about a foot to see if the car behind me will do the same, peek in the rearview mirror...

...and watch the car inch forward a little. and then, the car behind that one inches forward a little. and then the car behind that one...you get the gist. the thing is, the people behind you don't know they are part of the plan or that they are being influenced.

{insert cruella deville laugh here.}

farbeit from me to boast of myself...but i think i've just manipulated the system. it works 99 out of 100 times. do i sound weird? i'm really not that weird.

the only rule to this little game is that you cannot UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES be manipulated into inching forward a little when the car in front of you does so. no matter how strong the urge. think of it as improving your self control. who knows? maybe the person in front of you is trying to manipulate the system and no system will be manipulated under my watch (unless i am the manipulater). this is where the feeling of power comes into effect.

feel free to try this at home.

dell griffith, overpriced water, & barbie and ken

WHEW! i'm finally home and never thought i'd see the day. it feels like i've been gone for so long, but things seem exactly the same. although joseph and mom have braces, emma has headgear, and jacob has a more social life than me....i can't have that. my vacation was OVER THE TOP ADVENTUROUS! mud caving, rock climbing, hiking into obscure villages, bike riding. there may have been times where 20 year old judgement lacked, but i don't regret a single moment of it! we also did china really cheap...we stayed in hostels that barely made a dent in our dwindling accounts and i've learned that bartering won't get you very far without a little flirtation.

speaking of hostels, i had a little roommate situation that could be construed as funny.....although at the time, was anything but.

in yangshuo, we stayed in the "showbiz inn" which sleeps six people per room. i guess for every three roommates, your bound to get one weird roommate. enter creepy australian fellow. atleast sixty years old. eager to socialize with the rest of the twenty something year olds who populate yangshuo. he kept asking me where i was going and who i was going with and what there was to do around town. yes, i was a little creeped out by him and when you're traveling with one other girl, you can't be too safe. i was a bit elusive and when i returned later that day, found him playing pool by himself on the roof. a little bit later, he was trying to talk to some women in the lobby. later, reading a book by himself in the bed. who does he remind me of? i kept thinking about it all day long and it didn't occur to me until a few days later that he is dell griffith from trains, planes, and automobiles! you know, traveling alone, he just wants to find a friend, but he's just kind of a burden and he knows it. no one really wanted to do anything with him. i felt kind of bad for him, but that didn't stop me from waiting in the lobby for the rest of my roommates to turn in for the night. you know the age-old saying, "we girls gotta stick together when there are weird, too-much-leg-baring, teva-and-socks-wearing old men in the bed right next to mine." one night, kindra was asleep, the other roommates were partying the night away, and i was CLEARLY, VISIBLY awake and reading in my bed. maybe he forgot there was a bathroom in the room, maybe he was too lazy to make the effort to change there, but all of a sudden, his pants were off, showing me more old man, white australian bum than i'd bargained for.

alright. any chance of me inviting him on a bike ride went down the drain. i suddenly longed to be in a flaming car with original dell than in this too small room with naked phony dell.

another character worth mentioning is my "sleeping tiger" friend. we hiked this hill called "moon hill", which is less of a hike and more of a climb up 800 steep steps. at the bottom of our hike was this old woman, for sure somewhere in her eighties and probably half my height and weight. she asked if we would buy her water and upon hearing "no, i have some, thanks", she brought out a winnie the pooh fan, pointed to the top, said "go!", and followed us the whole way up. every time we stopped to catch our breath (which was pretty often), she would pounce on us with the fan and fan us till we were ready to go. she would also point to my mosquito bites and say "MOS-EE-QUITO! no good...no good!" i think she must have been bitten by a radioactive spider to give her superhuman endurance because she could have run up and down those stupid steps five times before i could make it up once. crazy lady. well, of course, at the top, i had to buy a bunch of her overpriced water. oh yeah, the reason i call her my "sleeping tiger" friend is that she kept pointing to this mountain saying "sleeping tiger" while pretending she was sleeping and then popping her eyes open and saying "RAWR!" while turning her fingers into claws. i'll miss you, crazy superhuman grandma.

i have to say that i could not have been more welcomed back into the states by anything more than TOY STORY 3. so good! maybe my favorite of the trilogy. there was not a minute where i was not laughing hysterically. best characters....barbie and ken. by far. pixar has outdone themselves again. geniuses. i want to send those people a bouquet of roses.

i bought the whole series of "lost" for under $30 in china and my siblings and i are on a "lost" binge, so i gotta go. what's that? hermit on a friday night? can't talk. have to go help desmond save the world. DESMOND!! AHH!!

the creature

it's really late at night here and i can't fall asleep; i've always been an insomniac- i blame my night thoughts. i always seem to solve the mysteries of the universe at night when i'm laying in my bed and should be sleeping. and there's a lot to think about right now. everyone that i've spent the last 3 months with is going home tomorrow and i'm just remembering all the crazy stuff we did together. but i'm not going to blog about my sad feelings right now. i'm going to blog about the creature.

what is the creature, you may ask? remember when i tried to dye my bangs purple and they turned out bright orange? the given name of the bright orange streak (courtesy of kindra) is the creature. when i went to a more credible salon and got it fixed, i didn't realize that it could only be fixed as bangs in china can be fixed, and lo and behold, the creature came back the very next day (no, wait....it was the cat that came back the very next day.) well, the creature came back a few weeks later, albeit not as bright and creature-ish.

but you'd have to know my hair to know why the creature is so ridiculous. think of the movie heidi...that is my natural hair without the frizz. so one day right after the c-word incident, i was straightening my hair, and right in the middle of it, the power went out. and the water was turned off that whole week, too. so i couldn't shower. i couldn't finish my hair. i had a newly nested creature in my hair. i had to walk around with half of my hair pin straight and the other half curling and frizzing in every direction it was able. my new motto is: a tamed creature is better than a frizzy creature.

one day the creature actually looked kind of cool. it was just last week when we were invited to a chinese wedding. i thought i would shake things up a bit and braid my bangs back. i walked outside and kindra exlaimed "rachael...today is a good creature day!"

you could say i'm somewhat of a fashion plate in china. it seems to be that the trend for girls here is to creature their whole head. their whole head! can you imagine?! all you have to do is take a dark brown/black head of hair and apply permanent, cheap bleach in it. i have so many issues concerning this. isn't one creature bad enough? should that be legal? how can you tame so many of them?

so even though i am killing the creature in infamy right when i get back to the land of sensible hair cuts, colors, and salons, i'm a little bit sad because the end of the creature signifies the end of china. we've been through so much together. i guess all creatures must come to an end. goodbye, creature. goodbye, china.

p.s. are you surprised that i just wrote that much about a streak of color in my hair? me too.

i've loved these days

what a dramatic day.

i've been pushing back thoughts of saying goodbye to my kids to the back of my mind. it was assumed that we would teach our kids on friday then pack up and leave this weekend. we were planning a big party, and i was going to make cards for all 30 of my kids. on wednesday, i got a really bad cold and slept for less than an hour that night. you know when you're sick and you spend most of the night in semi-consciousness, having weird hallucinations? i really thought all my kids were coming into my room in the middle of the night to get my autograph and i was so confused as to why they needed my autograph NOW?! well i stumbled into the cafeteria thursday morning, half awake when two of the teachers brought me to my senses. "have you heard? there's no school tomorrow! our last day of teaching is TODAY!"
dang it, i wasn't ready for this. mentally, i didn't think i was prepared to say goodbye. i was supposed to have one more day with my kids! so the rest of the day was spent running around, getting pizza, drinks, candy and toothbrushes for our kids (ironic, but the kids love them) and trying to prepare games. plus, i had an english enrichment class to teach, which is just something on the side we do a few times a week. i only teach these kids once a week for 40 minutes and i hobbled out of the room with 30 sobbing 7 year olds attached to my legs.

i barely got everything done that i needed to (including throwing together somewhat lame cards for my kids) in time for class. i can't even express to you how much these kids mean to me. i found out from one of the chinese teachers that most of the kids are here as a result of divorce and neither of the parents wanting to take them. most kids see their parents once a year. so i can't help but feel like we've kind of been their mother figures (my kids sometimes refer to me as "mommy".) the whole day was great and the kids were probably a little confused when we brought them pizza and aubrey started tearing up. at the end, we got them all together and tried to gesture that we were going home and that we would miss them very much.

"OKAY! GOO-BYE!" and they went right back to playing with the toys we'd given them. a few seconds later, robert- suave, cool little robert, who never acted like he cared- looked at us with a painful, confused expression and started wimpering. then he started wailing. then one by one, all 30 kids got it and started crying. and then we started crying. and then everyone was just crying and falling apart. i'll never forget robert climbing in my lap, kissing my cheek and saying between compulsive sobs "i...i...love you, miss meetchel." i know there have been days where i have wanted to put them all on a rocket with a one way ticket to pluto, but when it comes down to it, these kids make me happy and i've grown to LOVE them. their teachers finally had to come in and pick kids up off the floor. when they left, it hit me that they would grow up and i would never see them again.

and then i suffered a bout of jealous rage that some other girls would come next semester and steal their hearts from me. but they're MY kids! MINE! i was outraged before i calmed down and realized how irrational i was being, but i think i had a little bit of a glimpse of how a mother feels about her kids. (and to be honest, i still have selfish little thoughts about my kids. hey, i'm not perfect!)

because it ended so sad, a few of us decided to sneak into their dormitory and surprise them when they came in for bed. we tucked them in and snuggled with them till we were kicked out. i think that's been my single best memory in china: tucking my kids in bed and kissing them goodnight. we were all joking around and having fun and it wasn't sad at all. my food stash started with a cherry. frank gave me his cherry for a "present" and then all of a sudden, every kid was reaching under their bed for their small food stash to give me something. yogurt, fruit boxes, peaches, apples. the food was burying me and just in the nick of time, little danny appeared with a bag for me to put it in. it was such a happy goodbye. who can ever say that goodbyes are good? what a poorly named term. but this really was a good goodbye. it still breaks my heart that it's over. i just finished cleaning my classroom and had to take a minute to look at it and remember all the shenanigans that went on in there. my time in china has meant more than can be understood. i've learned a lot and have made lifelong friendships.

so tonight is our last night all together. we're all packed up and ready to go. tonight, we're going to the best gourmet donut shop known to man for a last hurrah and then everyone is going their separate ways. up next: kindra's and my adventure down south!

one movie to rule them all

i just have to put in my two cents and say that reason for humanity's existence is...the lord of the rings.

"return of the king" (even though the others are almost equally amazing) is the sole movie that stands on that blessed golden pedestal in my mind-by a long shot- as the best movie in the history of movies. EVER. i will fight this till the day i die. this is the movie i saw three times in the first two weeks it was out. this is the whole trilogy that leaves me sad that it's over after i watch it. it's kind of like that inescapable rip-your-heart-out emptiness you felt after finishing the seventh harry potter book. i get so attached to the characters in "the lord of the rings" that i feel anguished when it's over just because it's over and it didn't really happen and then i don't even want to watch anything else because everything else is bland in comparison. it's so epic. epic disappointment, epic heartbreak, epic victory. i would like to give thanks to the icon that is peter jackson. the hours that i have spent in my basement with my brothers watching extra footage from the extended versions would astound you. the character development, the friendships, the music, the acting...everything. this is truly the only time i will say that the movies....are better than the books. and the books are good! my favorite line of all lines? "i'm glad to be with you, samwise gamgee. here at the end of all things." san francisco my butt. i left my heart in middle earth!
p.s. i will also fight for this truth until the day i die: samwise gamgee is the GREATEST character of any film or book that has ever graced this planet. i want to marry someone like him. oh, and sean astin is amazing. if i could meet any actor, i think it would be him.

i'm too distraught to come up with a clever title

i think i'm having a midlife crisis. what does one of those feel like? i don't even know who i am anymore. maybe it's more of an identity crisis. yes, that's it, i'm having an identity crisis.

i've run out of books to read. i don't know what to do with myself anymore.

i read four really good books in the past two weeks. here's my quick thoughts on them.

three cups of tea: really, really inspiring. a little slow at times, but it taught me so much about pakistan and the taliban and the humanitarian spirit. if greg mortenson isn't the coolest guy ever, i don't know who is.

kite runner: i got SO emotionally invested in this book. it is SO good. i would react to certain parts out loud and my roommate kept saying "rachael, it's going to be ok!" the author has the coolest writing style and envelops you in the story the whole time you're reading. there's not one dull part in that book.

hunger games: it's a young adult novel with a crazy love triangle and it's much better than twilight. (i do like twilight, regardless of the cotton candy substance. although i have serious issues with angsty, moody edward and bella, which is a discussion for another time.) and as morbid as the plot sounds- 24 kids thrown in an arena to fight to the death- it's SO ADDICTING! i stayed up so late reading, trying to will my eyes to stay open. i plowed through it in 24 hours.

catching fire: the sequel to hunger games. so intense. so good. i'm pre-ordering the third book on amazon. august. it's so far away.

and now, i've read almost every single book that every girl has brought here. i have one left that i brought from home (crossing to safety by wallace stegner), but i want to save that for planes, trains, and automobile rides. what am i supposed to do with myself?

i guess i could do something productive like work on lesson plans or build an orphanage.

to read or to not read? that is the question....

"X" destinations

MSN recently came out with an article entitled "the ABC's of travel", which had a destination to visit for each letter of the alphabet (yes, i am the MSN fiend of them all. if it was an article on MSN...i have read it and i will bring it up in daily conversation). anyway, in case you were wondering what destination they chose for "X"-like, out of ALL of the plethora of "X" destinations they could choose, xi'an was the choicest of them all. and i'd like to add that i'm pretty sure it would still be choicest even if it weren't the only "X" destination, because i. LOVED. xi'an. so much that kindra and i are going back on our way back from guilin. our whole trip was picturesque. some of the highlights were:

-our cute hostel tucked away in the cleanest, greenest, and perfectly humid part of town.
-the park right across the street from us with little markets, temples, and the largest water fountain in asia.
-watching the HUGE fountain show at night with colorful lights and blaring chinese music, and then doing cartwheels through the fountain when the security guards weren't there.
-riding a tandem bike around the whole top of the city wall in an hour (BAM!)
-eating, eating, and more eating. what money we saved on hostels and hard bench train rides, we spent on good food. japanese cuisine one night (gosh, i love a good sushi roll), a western cafe with dutch cheese burgers (manna to my taste), subway, chinese pancakes, yummy salads. one of the girls in my group met a guy who had been all over china and upon hearing that we are teaching in industrial taiyuan, he remarked, "yeah, i went there! the food was awful...i couldn't even stomach it!"
-the little coffee shop that we went to every single night to take off our shoes, kick back, listen to jack johnson, play 5 crowns and uno, and eat the best, freshest smoothies you will ever eat in your sorry life (sorry until you try this smoothie, that is).
-the hostel walls that everyone drew on before they left....kindra and i staked out our territory and spent a night creating tributes to our favorite band and artist...the beatles and billy joel. could i have left my mark in xi'an in any better way?
-my ride to xi'an. PSYCH! remember what i said in the last post about buying standing seats to save money?

oh, you naiive, little girl, rachael. never EVER EVER again will i buy anything other than a sleeper on a train over 10 hours long and i would advise anyone to follow suit because that smoke infested cabin with flat slabs of metal as a sad excuse for seats was beyond miserable. luckily, we had bought sleepers on the way back and i was able to sleep for the whole 12 hours even though my face was 6 inches from the ceiling and took about half an hour to climb down for lack of space.

well, it's been real....but i gotta go to bed early to wake up at 4 AM and skype home so i can talk to ben...mother's day means a call from the missionary. can't wait!
(oh, and by going to bed early, i mean i'll get in bed at nine with good intentions, but cave into instant gratification and stay up till 3 reading "the kite runner." why has no one introduced this book to me before? i stayed in bed all day yesterday and read half of it. and then i got mad when i was hungry and had to put it down to eat. what an inconvenience. it's harry potter all over again.)

when life gives you lemons, hop a train to guilin

our foreign coordinators sprung a vacation on us this week. they sprung it on us only a week in advance and they took days off our vacation. and there's nothing we can do about it. originally, we were going to take a train down to xi'an, where the terra cotta warriors are, on our way to guilin, which is supposedly "the prettiest city on earth". so we had to choose between guilin and xi'an. BUT we found out train tickets to guilin were sold out. xi'an it is. i was trying to perk myself up about it, but since i've spent the last three months reading about, planning for, and looking at pictures of guilin, i was pretty heartbroken. i guess my idea of a vacation is not really tourist destinations. sure it's fun to see them, but i would so much rather go to an obscure, local town and see the scenery. hike mountains. do the things the locals do. i don't get hyped about tourist spots. don't get me wrong: it's fun to say i've been to those places, but they are not where the charm of a country lies. i think i should quit school and be a backpacking bum. give me a map, a kayak (if forrest gump can run across the entire country, i can kayak across the entire ocean, dang it.) and some lembus bread to sustain me. anyway, kindra, the girl i've grown the closest to here, has the exact same mindset as me. everything she says, i think "yes! exactly!" we have the same travel plans. we've already planned to travel the world together. i'm pretty sure we're kindred spirits! well, after the x-word was dropped, i shuffled into her room and we sat on her bed for a few minutes, slumped over, just the most pathetic sight you've ever seen. and then, the words she said were the sweetest ones i've ever heard:

"wanna backpack around china when school gets out?"

"yep."

so i skyped my parents to see if they were on board (they didn't even hesitate before saying yes; they're the best :) ), sent in my flight change request, and we mapped out our three week course after everyone goes home: take a train to guilin, rent bikes to get around, explore the number one ranked underground cave, swim in the li river, take a bamboo boat to yangshuo- asia's number one rock climbing town, rent bikes again, rock climb, brown up a bit, hike the renowned mud caves, take a train to huangshan and hike the yellow mountains- that's where they filmed "crouching tiger, hidden dragon", take a train to beijing, do some last minute pirated-movie shopping, fly home well seasoned travelers (just kidding).

so i say....when life gives you lemons, hop a train to guilin! (and buy a standing ticket at that- we can't afford sleepers, so we're going to sit on the floor for 25+ hours. yes. i'm all for the experience.)

i will sing bohemian rhapsody's praises till the day i die.

whether or not it's a product of acids and shrooms (and it probably is), bohemian rhapsody is a freaking good song. is it ever associated with a dull memory? never. when do you hear that song and NOT have a great time, air guitar and all? this weekend, we found this way cool little lake in the middle of a park. so we rented a paddle boat an puttered around while rocking the boat violently and singing bohemian rhapsody just to see how many asians we could get to stare at us.

let me tell you how many: very VERY many. good songs=good memories.

but i'll tell you what's not a good memory, and that has been the past two nights. i have had the hardest time sleeping, and i think that is part because i'm so nervous for tomorrow, which is a teaching evaluation from one of the directors who has flown to china to do just that. i've done fine so far, but i just get so tongue tied and nervous when i'm being evaluated. ("kids, this is a....uh,a...umm, this is a clipepeamer, i mean a pipecleaner!") so two nights ago, i decided i wanted to go to bed early and turned out the lights at 9. i laid in bed. i kept laying there. i thought. then when i was finished thinking, i thought some more. 10:00 came. then 11. then 12. and then...i looked at the clock and saw that it was 4:00. and even though i was so tired, i couldn't fall asleep. and then when i did, i weaved in and out of consciousness and bizarre dreams about dinosaurs and joe jonas. (maybe my sub-conscience is telling me.....nope, i can't even try to interpret that one.) and then last night, i was determined to get a good night's rest, so i went to bed at ten and i took a little bit of trazodone (yep, the stuff they give you to knock you out after you get your wisdom teeth taken out.) you would think that this combined with the fact that i got an hour and a half of sleep the night before would conk me right out, but i still only got a few hours of sleep. i'm pretty sure i think too much at night. maybe that's it.

well...here's to hoping for a good night's rest, no thinking, and jonas-less dreams.

salinas valley, sexy suitors and sue sylvester

i finished "east of eden" a couple weeks ago and in a steinbeck frenzy, my roommate and i summoned the movie from her mom. it arrived yesterday and we watched it last night. thoughts?

1) if only i had the ability to run my hand through james dean's hair.

2) the movie sucked.

3) the book rocked. REALLY rocked. i've read some really good books this year, but "east of eden" topped them all. it's so full of rich characters that i was really sad to put it down. sometimes i don't like books because they have a) the good characters and b) the bad characters. while "east of eden" definitely had characters on both extreme ends of the spectrum, others have so many layers that you can't cast them as either good or bad, but a little bit of both. it's just so...real. the characters grow so dear to you (maybe because you relate to them) that you can't help but love them for all the qualities they possess. steinbeck is SO good at deep characterization.

4) if only i had the ability to run my hand through james dean's hair.

while we're on the subject.....(ok, we're not really on the subject at all, but i just want to bring it up)....i'd like to take credit for the "glee sensation" sweeping the fourth floor of my apartment. i bought the first season in beijing for $3 and convinced the girls to watch the pilot with me (i've been a die hard from the start). the next day and 13 episodes later....well you get the gist. we camped out at my computer last night, and the second the new episode came out on iTunes, we pounced on it. thanks to the internet connection here, only 82 more hours until it fully loads. i guess our favorite sue sylvester scenes will have to suffice till then. don't you just love to hate her?

the life of a city slicker

that's what they call me on the streets of beijing, at least. what with my money pouch, my sneakers, my "great wall" ball cap, my backpack, snapping pictures left and right...

ok, so i'm not a real cool traveller, but i did have a great time in beijing! (and i didn't get pickpocketed once thanks to the money pouch- although i did have my watch sliced clean off my wrist with a knife. those people have skill if i've ever seen it.) the shopping, the sites, the great wall! it was incredible. we went to the simatai part of the wall, which is the oldest, least restored, and least tourist-y section. PLUS it had a zip line off one of the watch towers that had me shouting in pure ecstasy while i watched my reflection in the river below. that's my kinda wall! these mongolians took us on an obscure shortcut to the zipline. it was...absolutely picturesque. goat herders, corn fields, and sweeping mountains. the epitome of the asian countryside. i LOVE LOVE LOVE the asian countryside more than any other kind of landscape i've ever visited.

all great wall fun aside, the most memorable part of the trip was easter sunday. in china, since there are so few members, there's one ward in beijing that we, along with other members, skype on sundays. people pray, give talks, and make comments over skype. it's been a really unifying experience to bring all the members together and feel the spirit over skype just as strong as i do in my home ward. i will never forget my sacrament meetings here. since we were in beijing and general conference footage is not released in asia until this week, we were able to have a regular fast and testimony meeting with the ward. the "chapel" is a small room on the top floor of a hotel. there's only a few regular members, most of whom are couples serving humanitarian missions, although they can only refer to themselves as volunteers in china. the hospitality they extended to us meant more than they know. the sisters made me feel like i was home with my mom and the bishop's friendly handshake and charismatic laugh made me never want to leave this little safe haven. after tuning into skype and making a connection with the other computers of members scattered throughout china, the bishop asked a couple other girls and me to bear our testimonies. it was such a humbling experience, bearing my testimony into a little mic in this little room in china. listening to others tune in and bear their testimonies was such a testament that the gospel is alive and well in all corners of the world. the spirit in the room hit all of us like a ton of bricks, it was so strong. it made me realize that the gospel is the same, no matter where you are or who you are with or whether or not you can even see them. after church, the whole ward (all 17 of us) went to the bishop's house and ate the best (AMERICAN!) meal i've ever tasted! after seconds and thirds and an easter devotional, we were laughing hysterically, sleepy from so much food and happier than i've felt since i've been here. we all had the hardest time leaving because it felt like home and we were all so smiley the rest of the day.

my only concluding comment is- just like my favorite brand tells it- LIFE IS GOOD.

mastercard's got nothing on me

1 backpack for the whole week= $50
round trip train ticket to beijing= $60
hostel fee= $3 per night
entrance fee on to the great wall= $5
zip lining off the great wall= $7
a week of unsupervised fun with 7 college girls vacationing in china= priceless

catch you on the flip side!

an ode to you

DEAR CHINA,

oh, how i love you. i love your culture. i love your history. i LOVE your people. i love how willing everyone is to help each other. i love the smells. i love the lack of dialogue i have with the chinese people i've grown fond of; the need for physical touch and hugs as way of communication brings people closer than words. i love "chinglish", the strange english translations (a zoo sign that says "tiger dissapate into the atmosphere zone" and a shirt that says "i want to show you enaything." what?) i love the way my kids hug me and yell "i love you, teacha miss giesel!" my name is virtually un-pronounceable in china. but china, there are some things i do not love so much about you. i did not love that one time i had to scoop my poo out of the toilet with a ladle because there is no such thing as plumbing or plungers in china. i do not love eating squid everyday at lunch, but i am beginning to not love it less and less, which may soon turn into me not remembering what it was like to not eat squid every day, which will inevitably turn into liking it. but i love you so much more than not. i (along with my fellow americans) love looking at the gym teacher, charlie, aka "asian brad pitt" or the one teacher dubbed the "asian next door" for lack of known given name. HOT. i love learning about your mannerisms and etiquette. i love everything about you! you've further confirmed the travel bug in me. as much as i love school, i would be perfectly content spending the rest of my life seeing the world. doing yoga in india, climbing ruins in south america, cage shark diving in africa.
so, china, here's to you! thanks for further opening my eyes to the world and for making me truly appreciate a good old american toilet.

love,
rachael

a few things on my mind...

1) i've done some stupid things in my life. the half-brained-teenage syndrome was not lost on me. when i was fourteen, my friends and i suffered from a bout of dim wit and thought it would be funny to “have feminine problems, so could i sit out please?” and draw PERMANENT MARKER∗ on the giant $250 crab soccer ball in gym class. our tracks weren’t well covered. when i was eighteen, i took a long flight from korea to america and after the doctor said to take half an ambien, i decided (being the smart high school student i was) that if i took a WHOLE AMBIEN, i'd sleep twice as long. well….that was the worst episode of transpacific hallucinatory, drugged-up hell I think anyone has ever experienced. When I was nineteen and living in china, I decided on a whim to lose my hair virginity (aka color my hair for the first time) with a streak of RED in my bangs in a FOREIGN COUNTRY with a language I don’t understand in not a credible salon, but a STINKY HOLE IN THE WALL. an hour later, i walked out with bright orange bangs and to endless laughs from the locals. well, ok. we went to a more legitimate salon to get it fixed and my bangs turned from bright orange to bright orange and dark blue spotted. back to work. i came home the way i left only a few bucks poorer, but let this be a lesson to all those who are contemplating getting their hair done in a foreign country where you can’t understand the language: just don’t do it. my roommate decided to get bangs and came home looking like lady gaga. out with the walmart scissors.

∗caps inserted to emphasize stupidity.


2) i just finished reading “life of pi” and absolutely loved it. i can’t believe i hadn’t read it till now. it’s incredibly captivating. i even read it on the bus the other day and missed my stop. it is fantastic. read it, if you haven’t already. it’s not just a regular novel; it had different dimensions to it and the way it’s written is so interesting. yann martel is freaking awesome. he writes the most amazing tale that makes you laugh, cry, ponder, underline, and overall, it makes you sad when it’s over…and then- and i love books like this- he challenges the reader at the end and lets you use your imagination. it wasn’t one of those books that i read and say “well, that was good.” i spent a good two hours after i finished researching, reading interviews with martel, and finding out more about this book. and then i stayed awake for hours after i turned the lights out just thinking about it. definitely a must read. and now i’m dying to go to the zoo.


3) lastly and of the utmost importance, my shower has been broken for two days.

it's a chinese life for me

oh man, so much to write and so little time! i may or may not be using a proxy to write this blog post. heaven forbid blogspot is allowed in china. well, i'm here! all i can say is that i'm basically the miley cyrus of china. just kidding, but they do love us here. the city i'm living in isn't a tourist city, so americans rarely come through....hence the feeling of a zoo animal with strangers looking, laughing and talking about you in a foreign language/a pop star with people taking pictures of you wherever you go. i feel just as worn out as the barbie at the end of toy story two.."are the cameras off? good! my cheeks are killing me!" a few days ago was the end of the chinese new year, so the boarding school we're teaching at built a huge float and stuck us on it in the biggest parade i've ever seen! people were running into the street and reaching up to touch our hands. i am not kidding. i just hope my self confidence isn't shattered when i come back to america and no one comes running up, asking to take a picture with me.

a few thoughts on my adventure so far:

1) here's the thing about living in a different environment than your own....you are forced to adjust because that's the only way you'll survive. there's no such thing as being picky...this is real life! when i first got here, i thought the food was absolutely disgusting. contrary to my own belief, orange chicken only exists in america or in my head, when i'm trying to imagine that's what i'm eating instead of slimy, noodly, stew for breakfast. but instead of starving myself to death, i had no choice but to buck up and eat the unidentifiable meals in front of me. now i know what i like and what i don't like and things i would never eat under any other circumstances are beginning to taste really good compared to withering away and having no energy to teach. survival of the fittest, baby.

2) china's kind of like camping. they never drink water. and the water here is not drinkable. bring out the resourcefulness! every night, i fill up my water bottle with boiled water and stick it in the fridge so it's pure- yet drinkable- the next day, and i have to remember to take it everywhere i go. the mattresses are like sleeping in a sleeping bag without padding. with a rock and a tree root under you the whole night. it's a generous slab of plywood with a little fabric covering. bring out the $13 beach futon i bought at the store! dryers don't exist in china so you have to drip dry your clothes and then get over the cigarette smell like everything and everyone here. your clothes are always wrinkly and you never look cute. you get over it really quickly!

3) i really really love my group. i don't think i could have asked for a better one! the girls are so chill and funny and i like them all a lot. i've had a bunch of fun with them and i can't wait for the upcoming adventure together! i know i'm making lifelong friends. they really are so great. i'm lovin' my girls.

4) i think i'll spare you the teaching part of my week until things have calmed down a little and i don't refer to my kids only as "spawn of satan." one of my boys locked me in my own classroom. yesterday, i had to refrain from hopping on a plane and coming home. it was a rough day. my head teacher said it's always like that for the first few weeks until you establish some routine and discipline. i sure hope so because the next few months look dismal if i can't stop the kids from throwing knives at me (kidding!). i know it'll get better. i think i just had too high of expectations about the first day, so now i know that it's not going to be a bed of roses all the time, and especially until i can establish a good teacher/student relationship with the kids.

overall, i am having SO much fun and i can tell it's going to be a great few months. of course it's not going to be easy, but i'm living the dream right now! off on my own, seeing the world...i can't believe i'm here!

p.s. survival of the fittest aside, i'd really kill for a red robin bonzai burger right now...