I hate flying. I never understood why people felt this way--i used to love it. But after almost three years of flight benefits (aka ability to pick up and go somewhere on a whim) the novelty has worn off. Maybe its because I've gotten old. Maybe in three years I've aged exponentially, like a dog. I don't know what changed, but I guess I have a few ideas. One could be that I travel alone these days, which is much more boring. Even if my family didn't get seats together (which was frequent, as we flew standby), it was still fun to make a game out of communicating with family across the plane. Maybe its because I'm usually trekking across the country to go back and forth to school. As much fun as it is to live in Hawaii and have family in Florida, its not quite as exciting as going on vacation to another country. It is much easier to spend hours on a plane in anticipation of the unfamiliar and the adventures that could be there. The excitement of going back to school understandably pales next to that. Maybe even less than that is merely the time I spend on planes. Usually we were just going to New York or Boston for the day--short flights, 4 hours maximum. Honestly, even flying to Germany only took eight hours from New York, keeping flying time under telve hours. But these cross country hauls usually add up to 15-20 hours of flying time, not including layovers and such. The worst part of flying home is that they are always red-eyes, and I can't sleep on planes to save my life. Again, this was easier when I traveled with my family. I could sleep because I could, despite fervent protests, sleep on them. I'm less willing to rest my head on the shoulder of an unwilling (or even willing...)stranger. I've gotten creative with ways to sleep (all mildly uncomfortable at best) but regardless I awake after half an hour to tingling, slumbering limbs, a dry throat, and intense sinus congestion complete with a runny nose. I am fighting an uphill battle. There are honestly moments of my semi-concious states that I would prefer the plane to crash so that I would either die or scare my parents into never putting me on a plane again.
I have tried things to make the ride less painful-reading, listening to music, watching movies. But the physical constrictions make it near impossible to be content, which is something I usually don't have a problem with. The small box seats just dot work with my customary habits of lounging all over the place, putting my feet up on my desk, and draping my arms and legs at odd angles over every piece of furniture in the room. Let's be honest--even the first class seats make me feel like I'm a whale in a fishbowl. Don't get me wrong, I'm completely grateful for the opportunity we have to fly for free. I'm just not sure I agree with the whole idea that the fun is in the journey, not the destination. I don't want to enjoy the ride. I just want to teleport.
(Title from Danza Kuduro by Don Omar)
Monday, February 28, 2011
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
play the music low
Disclaimer: You will probably not find this post interesting. I usually refrain from publishing thoughts. So enjoy.
I am not a professional music critic. Just a regular one. And while going through decades of music while updating a new computer, I've realized how I have too much fervor about music.
When people ask me what kind of music I listen to, I usually say "everything", just like 90% of the world's population. In all honesty, I don't think I've ever heard anyone say that they listen to country exclusively, or that they really just love metal. I think it should be hard to narrow it down to one genre, because only losers listen to just one type of music (Again, I have strong feelings about these things.). But I literally listen to everything. All the time. I have country from my parents, rap and R&B from growing up in South Florida, dance music from living in/traveling around Europe, and Reggae from living on an island. And I really like all of them. I like alternative music that's lesser known, and I like mainstream stuff that is overplayed to the point of irritation. Yeah, that's right, I listen to mainstream stuff. I think a lot of people think that to have good taste in music you have to turn up your nose at mainstream garbage, but you don't. I don't think it is necessarily the most creative form of music--Brittney Spears got the idea of her newest song off of a Hollister Shirt and tried to dress/act like Lady Gaga--but that doesn't mean I don't enjoy it.....once in a while.
My most listened to bands are bands that clearly put a lot of time/thought into writing their lyrics. They include, but are not limited to, Jack's Mannequin, Sherwood, Owl City, and Anberlin. All of which have different styles of music, but are the same in the quality of their work (in my opinion, obviously). I frequently use their songs as the titles of my blog entries. I take the song that has been playing most repetitively-either on my ipod or in my head-and try to choose a good line or phrase. I have to try to not put too much thought into it otherwise I get really caught up in choosing those few words so much that it brings me stress. It's not always that the words are so profound or representative of my life/feelings or anything. It's more that words really can be art, and sometimes they are.
One of my favorite events that occur in my musical world is when bands I love get big. It's happened a couple times--Basshunter went from being low budget and humorously pathetic to only medium levels of scoff-ability (that is probably not a real word). Then dear old Jonas Erik Altberg decided to switch to English and have skanky girls take their clothes off and moved up a few levels of fame. Owl City was a one man band started in his parent's basement due to insomnia that grew to having the number one selling song on iTunes. I remember mocking my sister for changing her facebook status to these half-baked lyrics of a mediocre skinny guy. Then he got better and I got more tolerant and Y-100 picked up Fireflies and now he's famous and professing his love for Taylor Swift.
As I go through my favorites, I'm starting to see some patterns. Primarily, I like bands with good harmonies and real feelings, like Jacks' Mannequin, Sherwood, and Maroon 5. Then there's techno (Owl City and D.Guetta), especially foreign techno like Basshunter and Edward Maya. Then there's my ghetto playlist, for when I feel like being in high school again. Lil' Wayne, Young Jeezy, T-Pain, etc. And the rest is just music that I like that are odd assortments of things I've heard on the radio/on a movie/heard someone singing.
Most of my 'foreign' music is European. But I do have some room in my heart for Spanish, especially when it includes techno like Panamericano. This music video reminds me that I lied about liking everything. I HATE music from previous decades. Some 80's is okay, 70's gets a little annoying, but anything before that makes me want to stick pins in my eyes. Honestly. I have a friend that I love to death but when he turns on his 50's playlist I am sorely tempted to jump out the window of the moving car and die. Because that would be better. Sorry, Grandma. 90's music is completely acceptable. Partially because I grew up in the 90's, so I can't hate on it, but particularly because I think that was when a lot of genuinely GOOD music was written. Maybe not artistically, but the music is so upbeat and not annoying (in most cases). My favorites are Spin Doctors, Blues Traveler, Gin Blossoms, and Sister Hazel.
I love my music. I love getting other people hooked on my music. I love listening to it and dancing to it and singing obnoxiously (especially girly music when I'm around my teenage brother). And that's about everything you never wanted to know about my feelings towards music.
[Title from Rhythm of Love by Plain White T's]
I am not a professional music critic. Just a regular one. And while going through decades of music while updating a new computer, I've realized how I have too much fervor about music.
When people ask me what kind of music I listen to, I usually say "everything", just like 90% of the world's population. In all honesty, I don't think I've ever heard anyone say that they listen to country exclusively, or that they really just love metal. I think it should be hard to narrow it down to one genre, because only losers listen to just one type of music (Again, I have strong feelings about these things.). But I literally listen to everything. All the time. I have country from my parents, rap and R&B from growing up in South Florida, dance music from living in/traveling around Europe, and Reggae from living on an island. And I really like all of them. I like alternative music that's lesser known, and I like mainstream stuff that is overplayed to the point of irritation. Yeah, that's right, I listen to mainstream stuff. I think a lot of people think that to have good taste in music you have to turn up your nose at mainstream garbage, but you don't. I don't think it is necessarily the most creative form of music--Brittney Spears got the idea of her newest song off of a Hollister Shirt and tried to dress/act like Lady Gaga--but that doesn't mean I don't enjoy it.....once in a while.
My most listened to bands are bands that clearly put a lot of time/thought into writing their lyrics. They include, but are not limited to, Jack's Mannequin, Sherwood, Owl City, and Anberlin. All of which have different styles of music, but are the same in the quality of their work (in my opinion, obviously). I frequently use their songs as the titles of my blog entries. I take the song that has been playing most repetitively-either on my ipod or in my head-and try to choose a good line or phrase. I have to try to not put too much thought into it otherwise I get really caught up in choosing those few words so much that it brings me stress. It's not always that the words are so profound or representative of my life/feelings or anything. It's more that words really can be art, and sometimes they are.
One of my favorite events that occur in my musical world is when bands I love get big. It's happened a couple times--Basshunter went from being low budget and humorously pathetic to only medium levels of scoff-ability (that is probably not a real word). Then dear old Jonas Erik Altberg decided to switch to English and have skanky girls take their clothes off and moved up a few levels of fame. Owl City was a one man band started in his parent's basement due to insomnia that grew to having the number one selling song on iTunes. I remember mocking my sister for changing her facebook status to these half-baked lyrics of a mediocre skinny guy. Then he got better and I got more tolerant and Y-100 picked up Fireflies and now he's famous and professing his love for Taylor Swift.
As I go through my favorites, I'm starting to see some patterns. Primarily, I like bands with good harmonies and real feelings, like Jacks' Mannequin, Sherwood, and Maroon 5. Then there's techno (Owl City and D.Guetta), especially foreign techno like Basshunter and Edward Maya. Then there's my ghetto playlist, for when I feel like being in high school again. Lil' Wayne, Young Jeezy, T-Pain, etc. And the rest is just music that I like that are odd assortments of things I've heard on the radio/on a movie/heard someone singing.
Most of my 'foreign' music is European. But I do have some room in my heart for Spanish, especially when it includes techno like Panamericano. This music video reminds me that I lied about liking everything. I HATE music from previous decades. Some 80's is okay, 70's gets a little annoying, but anything before that makes me want to stick pins in my eyes. Honestly. I have a friend that I love to death but when he turns on his 50's playlist I am sorely tempted to jump out the window of the moving car and die. Because that would be better. Sorry, Grandma. 90's music is completely acceptable. Partially because I grew up in the 90's, so I can't hate on it, but particularly because I think that was when a lot of genuinely GOOD music was written. Maybe not artistically, but the music is so upbeat and not annoying (in most cases). My favorites are Spin Doctors, Blues Traveler, Gin Blossoms, and Sister Hazel.
I love my music. I love getting other people hooked on my music. I love listening to it and dancing to it and singing obnoxiously (especially girly music when I'm around my teenage brother). And that's about everything you never wanted to know about my feelings towards music.
[Title from Rhythm of Love by Plain White T's]
race the wind
Well here it is....3:32 Monday night, EST. My last night being home, thus my last night to sleep in a real, comfortable bed. Last night to sleep without loud girls or loud roomates or alarms going off. So of course my jet lag would kick in one week after changing time zones. Technically it's not jet lag; it really has nothing to do with that. I just get in these moods when I'm home, and they usually happen at ood hours of the night. I go into panic mode, needing to clean/organize/bake everything. ASAP. My mother loves it. As for me...I'm not sure if it's a cause for stress or a stress reliever. Just tonight (as in after midnight) I've made a chicken pot pie, apple pie, chocolate chip cookies, Andes mint cookies, and an apple pie. And reorganized some things in the garage. And done some laundry. I don't know why these nesting instincts kick in--it's not my house or my kids or my things, and I'm not going to even get to eat this food if I leave in three hours as planned. But it certainly benefits my family, so I guess it's good.
I love being home. There are so many reasons, even just comparing it to being at college in the dorms. But then there's the added benefit of finding things that I've left here over breaks or that my sisters have "borrowed" when they've visited. I love driving. I love that there are four and eight lane roads. I love that I can blast my music while flying down the road with the windows open. I love that stores are open past midnight. I love that everything is so close, so convenient. I love being with my family. I love that I can do things without having to spend time/money obtaining superglue or colored pencils or dryer sheets. It's nice to take a break from my daily routines--being in Hawaii CAN get old, though most people can't fathom that. I'm not sure if I have more responsibility there or here, but neither is too difficult in moderation.
This week has had its highlights. I got hooked on Angry Birds. If you haven't heard of/played this game, don't. It is the devil. It is frustrating, and only addicting if you have too much pride to lose to a couple of ugly green pigs and impenetrable wood and stone structures. We cleaned out the entire garage, a life-long dream of mine (odd, I know). I got to hang out with one of my best friends, even though he almost killed me by driving over the median, going 90 down Sunrise Blvd., threw tantrums at McDonalds, and tried to play the violin. I made dinner for the missionaries (they, too, benefit from my weird cooking impulses) and got to hear their stories of self-consciousness, Ukraine, and inspiration. I smashed cans and trophies with the girls and listened to Owl City on repeat.
We went on bike rides. Jace pulled Kenyan on a skateboard. It only led to a few disasters...
We found all sorts of treasures
Kenyan had a turn pulling people. Jada's friend was too
I got to escape to Luis and Cathy's to watch Disney Channel with Emily and invaded presidency meetings to eat real food and be bombarded. I was most assuredly surrounded by people who loved me, even though lots of them were strangers to me. And that is always good for my health.
[Title from To The Sky by Owl City]
Monday, February 14, 2011
Saturday, February 12, 2011
we don't need your money money money
Last Saturday was sunny. We went to Waimea and got sunburns and saw too many tourists. We went to Ted's Bakery, most delicious food on the North Shore. We saw boys from our school who were shirtless--some were fun and some were jerks. Typical.
This Saturday it's raining. Which means there's zero productivity and zero sun. We watched movies and read books. Homework will come later if the sun doesn't.
I have a new job. I'm not sure if I've written about that or not. I work at the plant nursery. Except it usually doesn't involve a whole lot of work. It mostly involves Alyssa (the friend, not the sister) and I (yes, she works there too) driving the truck around the school and throwing things at people. Anyway. We found some cats at work. They were in this big barrel thing that has no purpose other than to trap cats.
Yesterday at work I caught a mongoose. I don't think I'd even heard of mongoose (mongooses? mongeese?) until I came here. They're little ferret like creatures...and they're fast. This is the best picture I could find-
But the one I caught was a lot skinnier and more grey than brown. And they like to crack open the skulls of the wild chickens and eat their brains. Anyway. I was just hanging out back in the rows of trees and I saw all these little wild mongoose (geese?) running around and I decided I'd try to catch one. Except that I was almost positive I wouldn't catch one, because they're FAST. I saw one that was running about five feet away for me so I dove for it and I caught it!!!! It wriggled around in my hands for about thirteen seconds until I realized that I was HOLDING A FREAKIN' MONGOOSE and freaked out and chucked it in the air. Poor thing. It landed and scurried away. I tried to go tell Alyssa and Michael what happened but my speech was a little unstable....just as I was. But it was still a proud day.
Here are some other pictures from one of thousands of beach trips.
toiletten!
Tonight was foodfest! Which means clubs representing every country cook cultural food and sell it for too much money. But it is delicious! Afterwards, fueled by guilt, Alyssa and I went running around Laie. As we were finishing our run it started raining again. This gave Lys and I reason to run around the residential roads dancing in the rain listening to our ipods. People stared. And laughed. It was a wonderful night.
[Title from Price Tag by Jessie J]
This Saturday it's raining. Which means there's zero productivity and zero sun. We watched movies and read books. Homework will come later if the sun doesn't.
I have a new job. I'm not sure if I've written about that or not. I work at the plant nursery. Except it usually doesn't involve a whole lot of work. It mostly involves Alyssa (the friend, not the sister) and I (yes, she works there too) driving the truck around the school and throwing things at people. Anyway. We found some cats at work. They were in this big barrel thing that has no purpose other than to trap cats.
Yesterday at work I caught a mongoose. I don't think I'd even heard of mongoose (mongooses? mongeese?) until I came here. They're little ferret like creatures...and they're fast. This is the best picture I could find-
But the one I caught was a lot skinnier and more grey than brown. And they like to crack open the skulls of the wild chickens and eat their brains. Anyway. I was just hanging out back in the rows of trees and I saw all these little wild mongoose (geese?) running around and I decided I'd try to catch one. Except that I was almost positive I wouldn't catch one, because they're FAST. I saw one that was running about five feet away for me so I dove for it and I caught it!!!! It wriggled around in my hands for about thirteen seconds until I realized that I was HOLDING A FREAKIN' MONGOOSE and freaked out and chucked it in the air. Poor thing. It landed and scurried away. I tried to go tell Alyssa and Michael what happened but my speech was a little unstable....just as I was. But it was still a proud day.
Here are some other pictures from one of thousands of beach trips.
toiletten!
Tonight was foodfest! Which means clubs representing every country cook cultural food and sell it for too much money. But it is delicious! Afterwards, fueled by guilt, Alyssa and I went running around Laie. As we were finishing our run it started raining again. This gave Lys and I reason to run around the residential roads dancing in the rain listening to our ipods. People stared. And laughed. It was a wonderful night.
[Title from Price Tag by Jessie J]
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Moving past the past
Here are some more stories from last semester/non broken camera:
Alyssa and I went to Cheesecake factory. It was delicious. It's about an hour away so it's always a really big event. I miss the days when I had money....
This guy was our seater, and he kept coming back throughout the night. We started talking about the church and the school and evidently they get a lot of rude students in the restaurant. It was pretty sad to hear. So we tried to be extra cheerful. His shift finished while we were eating so he sat with us and talked for a while. His name was Ben, except he was from Texas and pronounced his name Bay-en.
Okay funny story about this picture. I was standing on a bridge (obviously) and Alyssa was on the sidewalk taking the picture. As she's taking it, this guy on a moped was driving by and yells "beautiful!". Which is...whatever. It's Waikiki, people are crazy. But then he turns off the road, turns around, and drives ON THE SIDEWALK up to where we are. He offered to take a picture with some weirdo accent, and Alyssa politely declined, wanting to preserve the life/safety of the camera. We just picked up our stuff and started walking away. He only followed us for a little bit, gratefully.
I also have some pictures of the Laie Temple. I know I wrote about the open house and I may have put up some pictures already but...
Okay my face looks super weird there. Oh well.
This is the view from the steps of the temple!
Oh this one's better
Sort of.
We took these pictures as we were waiting to go in to volunteer as ushers. That was a really awesome experience. I stood on the ledge between the sealing room and baptistry, straight across from one of the chapels. SO COOL! After we were done we were walking home and the Tufangas (1st counseler in my ward) picked us up and took us to their house for some delicious Tongan food!
That picture doesn't really do it justice. Maybe it's a good thing that dumb camera died.
Alyssa and I spend a lot of time with the Dummars. They are awesome! I went over last Sunday for dinner and Skip-Bo with an Asian named Mary. The first time we tried to find their house it was pretty late at night and we were creepin around the house lookin in the upstairs windows. Turns out that they live in the downstairs. Oops! And, of course, we documented it.
Alright I love this picture. It sums up my life here. It's me, riding my bike (with no hands) to the beach with my towel (that got stolen by the dumb cleaning ladies) and my volleyball. I love it. And I'm pretty positive I will always look back to these days and miss it.
And of course, no post would be complete without beach pictures.
Fun fact: you can tell that my face is not posed in this picture because my nostrils are flared. That only happens when a cold wave hits my dry body. I usually don't flare my nose just for fun. Only occasionally.
Okay, I promise we are not this white. I'd be really embarrassed if we were...since we go to college in Hawaii and all....
This is probably the best action shot ever taken. Ever.
This picture was taken the night the prophet came to Hawaii. We were walking home and took about five hundred pictures, almost no exaggeration. So I'll spare you all and just post my favorite since it pretty much defines our friendship.
These last two pictures were the last pictures ever taken. This is the infamous path to Bikini Beach, given it's name because it's where all the honor-code breakers go, apparently. Mary and I went snorkeling and my poor little camera decided to be tired of being waterproof. :(
And that, my friends, is the end of Fall Semester!
[Title from Up and Up by Relient K]
Alyssa and I went to Cheesecake factory. It was delicious. It's about an hour away so it's always a really big event. I miss the days when I had money....
This guy was our seater, and he kept coming back throughout the night. We started talking about the church and the school and evidently they get a lot of rude students in the restaurant. It was pretty sad to hear. So we tried to be extra cheerful. His shift finished while we were eating so he sat with us and talked for a while. His name was Ben, except he was from Texas and pronounced his name Bay-en.
Okay funny story about this picture. I was standing on a bridge (obviously) and Alyssa was on the sidewalk taking the picture. As she's taking it, this guy on a moped was driving by and yells "beautiful!". Which is...whatever. It's Waikiki, people are crazy. But then he turns off the road, turns around, and drives ON THE SIDEWALK up to where we are. He offered to take a picture with some weirdo accent, and Alyssa politely declined, wanting to preserve the life/safety of the camera. We just picked up our stuff and started walking away. He only followed us for a little bit, gratefully.
I also have some pictures of the Laie Temple. I know I wrote about the open house and I may have put up some pictures already but...
Okay my face looks super weird there. Oh well.
This is the view from the steps of the temple!
Oh this one's better
Sort of.
We took these pictures as we were waiting to go in to volunteer as ushers. That was a really awesome experience. I stood on the ledge between the sealing room and baptistry, straight across from one of the chapels. SO COOL! After we were done we were walking home and the Tufangas (1st counseler in my ward) picked us up and took us to their house for some delicious Tongan food!
That picture doesn't really do it justice. Maybe it's a good thing that dumb camera died.
Alyssa and I spend a lot of time with the Dummars. They are awesome! I went over last Sunday for dinner and Skip-Bo with an Asian named Mary. The first time we tried to find their house it was pretty late at night and we were creepin around the house lookin in the upstairs windows. Turns out that they live in the downstairs. Oops! And, of course, we documented it.
Alright I love this picture. It sums up my life here. It's me, riding my bike (with no hands) to the beach with my towel (that got stolen by the dumb cleaning ladies) and my volleyball. I love it. And I'm pretty positive I will always look back to these days and miss it.
And of course, no post would be complete without beach pictures.
Fun fact: you can tell that my face is not posed in this picture because my nostrils are flared. That only happens when a cold wave hits my dry body. I usually don't flare my nose just for fun. Only occasionally.
Okay, I promise we are not this white. I'd be really embarrassed if we were...since we go to college in Hawaii and all....
This is probably the best action shot ever taken. Ever.
This picture was taken the night the prophet came to Hawaii. We were walking home and took about five hundred pictures, almost no exaggeration. So I'll spare you all and just post my favorite since it pretty much defines our friendship.
These last two pictures were the last pictures ever taken. This is the infamous path to Bikini Beach, given it's name because it's where all the honor-code breakers go, apparently. Mary and I went snorkeling and my poor little camera decided to be tired of being waterproof. :(
And that, my friends, is the end of Fall Semester!
[Title from Up and Up by Relient K]
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