It's called karma.

First of all, I vote Yes on Proposition "Keep BYU Forums Alive." Today we heard from Brian Greene, author of The Elegant Universe, which I highly recommend. His remarks were subtitled "Space, Time, and the Texture of Reality." Yeah, I pretty much quivered with happiness. He makes string theory and the space-time continuum so approachable for a science nerd like me who has time to only skim the surface of the research in this area. That being said, though, I'm not sure you need to read The Elegant Universe in order to get something that isn't already pre-existent in one of my favorite books of all time, Stephen Hawking's A Brief History of Time (it's infinitely more compelling and easier to read than it sounds). I reread this book over the weekend to get myself ready for Dr. Greene's address, and was surprised to find that his speech could have been lifted directly from the first few chapters of Time. But he was entertaining nonetheless. And he did explain string theory better than I've ever heard it explained--visuals an everything. So kudos to him and I hope he continues his research in that area and relays it to the rest of us.

Secondly, a disclaimer. The recursiveness of eastern philosophy has had my mind cycling over matters of karma, and how you know when you've finally done enough good to merit some of it coming back to you. That seems to negate the point of such a teaching, but naysayers, silencio. I've made a rather new goal of doing as much as I can for other people. This isn't hard for people I love, obviously, but when it comes to people who have not demonstrated all that is good in humanity towards me, I have a hard time being nice. So my experiment commenced, and has rapidly turned into a new way of thinking. I can't help loving everyone now, and wanting the best for them. I don't think I would go to the extreme of saying that my life is for others to use, but I wouldn't mind being known as someone who goes out of her way to help someone else.

That being said, something miraculous (in my life, anyway) happened today, and I like to think that it stems from trying to imbibe more positive energy from the universe in order to help other people with it. Call it karma, whatever, but it's fantastic. I've been under extreme stress lately, it being the end of the semester and all, and I was really at a loss as to when and how everything would get done. I've been experiencing the beginnings of panic attacks, not been sleeping, the whole nine yards. Now for the miracle: My American Lit professor pushed back the deadline for my conference paper rough draft to next week, which will give me just enough time to finish the million other things that are due by week's end. Whew. It is a serious load off my shoulders this week, and I feel like I can write this paper the way I want to (with panache, of course) without being under so much pressure.

An addendum to this 12th-hour miracle is that my professor (for the same class as the conference paper) told me that he was the judge of this poetry contest I entered awhile ago, and that I've been awarded an Honorable Mention. I wasn't expecting anything to come of it, and entered just to see what would happen, and it's cool to even be recognized like that. He said the award is a national one, so that if/when I put it on my resume, employers back east will recognize it. I'll get the award at this English Awards Banquet I was already going to next week for my GPA/Senior status. Go poetry!

Other than that, I'm grateful to be home from class today and am going to take a good nap.

Some people don't know what they have.

The love I seek is so deep, so faithful and true, I wonder if I will ever find someone that will love me in the way I desire. It goes deeper than passion, but as simple as politeness. I desire understanding, and an unfaltering trust. Someone that other than my Father, who I can run to when the world is cruel. Someone who will warm my heart with kindness and firmly speak truth to me in love. Someone that will sit and read with me but will also dance in the rain with me. Love is a funny thing. So often "found" and not kept. Why? Well, it is because it was never found, for if it was, it would be like a treasure, held tightly and never let go, valued above other things.
-A. Steele

The First Day of My Second Life.

So I'm not as into reading horoscopes like my mom is (love you mom!), but I just randomly received mine in an email from someone. I thought it especially fitting and thought I'd share:

Saturday, March 22:

It's time to make a fresh start. Out with the outdated thinking, the bad ideas, the negative feelings. Make room for the joy, the positive energy and love that the future holds for you.

It's pretty general and safe, which horoscopes are for the most part, but I think it's good advice for anyone who is at a weird stage in their life, and I know it hit home with me right now.

Something else I'd like to make you all aware of is that my cat seems to be experiencing male-pattern baldness at the moment. He has weird patches of fur missing from his tummy. They're growing in now, but I for sure had a WHAT THE moment when I picked him up and there was nothing resembling fluffiness under my fingers. Also in this edition of Pet Watch 2008, Abby, my golden retriever, has been coping better with her arthritis lately, due in part to a friend's suggestion that we feed our over-sized lovey fish oil pills. They didn't make her sick, which I was worried about, and she seems to be more spry than I've seen her in a long time.

One piece of advice before I hit the sack: Parents--past, present, and future--if you should feel so inclined to buy your newborn baby a do-rag, please reconsider. And never, never, take your inclination for your child's gangsterhood so far as to buy him or her bling. Yes, bling. I will never forget the little baby I saw yesterday that was wearing a neon blue do-rag and a gold medallion bigger than its fist. I was disturbed.

Never fear, SciFi is here.

After some sleuthing, I found that the Sci Fi Channel has past episodes of Ghost Hunters on their website.

Go to scifi.com/ghosthunters.

I'm not out of it, just...tired.

There is something extremely revitalizing for me about going home. I don't know if it's because my soul delights in momentarily escaping the scene of drudgery that Provo has been for me these past three years, or if my family is just fantastically good at keeping me centered. Probably both. (Catching up on my sleep isn't too bad either.) That being said, though, it's nice to know I have a handful of people in either place that I love to be with and even better, can be my real self.

Yesterday in the car I was listening to The Shins, and one of their songs has a line that talks about "the thousand different versions of myself." The idea is just interesting to me, that we all become different people depending on the situation or who we're with--and not in a bad way, really. I would think that it's sometimes necessary. But what's important is that you always maintain a core of who you really are, which includes your morals, values, etc. This weekend has been somewhat of an eye-opener for me to what constitutes your "self" and how you view yourself.

In other news, Elder Dallin H. Oaks visited my parent's stake for stake conference, and it was really cool to be able to hear him speak only a few feet away. I thought it was nice of him to go around and shake everybody's hand and welcome them to conference. And because of the small numbers he was more candid and open, which was refreshing.

Something else I've been mulling over is how much I appreciate good people--sincere, honestly good people. Like my stake president at BYU, or the Phillipses. There are many more, but just think about the people you know who make no pretensions of being perfect and who just try to do their best, and you'll know what I'm talking about.

Hmmm...oh yeah, my MCR tix came in the mail this weekend, and I'm happy to say it's t-minus 3 1/2 weeks until I'll be rocking with Gerard and gang at Saltair. If I can only get through this week...

Week Two of Operation: Prepare for London.

Tonight's topic: Personal Safety and Precautions. In general, I'm not at all afraid of something happening to me in London (picture of BYU London Centre at left). We talked about terrorism tonight, and to be honest, I'm more nervous about getting sick and landing in the hospital than having a bomb go off when I'm on the Tube or the bus. (Knock on wood, I guess.) Having been to the majority of large cities in the US, I'm not nervous about navigating my way around London or dealing with the crowds and new people. So in short, I see my (healthy) lack of fear as a blessing; more than one person kind of freaked out tonight during the prep class because they're afraid. Obviously, I know there is danger, and I'm not going into this blindly. I'm just a strong believer that you take as many precautions as you can and be smart, and you should be okay. Along with that, things do happen, but it won't be because of something stupid I did. I can't control other people or situations, only my reactions to them.

Totally tangential to my brief mentioning of blessings is school. After spending four hours online Sunday night looking at graduate schools and different programs, I have only this to say: I'm so grateful for the education I'm getting at BYU for the price I'm getting it. All of my top choices--Boston University, Georgetown, Yale, Bryn Mawr, Smith--run into the tens of thousands of dollars for graduate school. I'm also looking into schools overseas (read: Britain) that I hope to attend through the Marshall Scholarship. This is a huge undertaking, but I'm going to give it my best and see what happens. Several projects that I've wanted to begin for years are coming to the forefront now, and all happen to coincide with exactly what I need to have a competitive application.

I guess what spurred on all this forward thinking was stake conference on Sunday, during which I realized that I had so many opportunities right now to take advantage of; I have no ties (meaning boyfriend/potential husband, haha) to hold me in Provo, let alone the United States, so I decided to stop waiting around for something to happen and make something happen instead. The decision of what to actually study is going to be the hard part...

Printing is hard.

Words, words, words.

If there's one addiction I can publicly admit to, it's books. Binge-reading has been the name of the game for me lately--partly for class, partly for my own benefit. One of the biggest kickbacks of being an English major is getting to conspicuously consume all the literature I can and get graded for having an opinion on it. For a bookworm such as I am, this is no small raison d'être. Rather, I feel sometimes that I couldn't pay BYU enough for allowing me to go to class everyday and talk about something that matters to me. Sometimes.

The three books I finished today are The Turn of the Screw, The Rise of Silas Lapham, and Xenocide. The first two are for my American lit class and the last because I somehow got sucked into the sci-fi vortex of Orson Scott Card's Ender series again. Ender's Game is undoubtedly one of my favorite sci-fi books, but reading the sequels is like reading a faint, dashed-off copy of the original. But here I am about to begin the fourth book in the series. Whatever. Card brings up surprising metaphysical and ethical questions that are interesting to think about in the context of space exploration and colonizing worlds after Earth.

After finishing those books today, I'm going to continue to read Veronika Decides to Die by Paolo Coelho (which I love so far), and What is the What by Dave Eggers (thanks to Asher Lev's recommendation. Non sequitur for Ashley: I still remember those debates we had in AP about abstract art. We should do it again sometime...). On my last journey through the commercialized-yet-oh-so-necessary world of Barnes & Noble, I also bought The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova, but I'm saving that for when I finish the others. It seems promising though; who am I to turn down a legitimate book about vampires?

Speaking of literature, I had a really good talk with my American lit professor yesterday. I went in to chat about my conference paper (the "male gaze" in Ethan Frome, yes ma'am!), but we ended up talking about why I don't take any poetry classes. He told me that he would take me into his advanced 319 creative writing class; it makes my fragile student ego feel more validated to have him consider me, but I feel myself holding back. Having others read, let alone want to publish, my poetry makes my stomach turn. I'm still trying to figure out my motives for not wanting to promote this part of myself, but for now I told my prof that I would consider it at least. It's a start. He also is (slightly) forcing me to take English 452, which is an advanced literary theory/criticism class. I told him if Matt Wickman or Rick Duerden are teaching it, I'm in. I love, seriously LOVE lit theory. When I'm not reading novels, I'm reading critical studies and books on theories. My dream job would be some kind of book critic for the New Yorker. And editor-in-chief, hah!

A final mentioning that falls within the scope of my life's quest for knowledge: Okay this just has to do with London. I was reading in the London Walks book tonight, and some people need to stop thinking I'm joking when I talk about never coming back from London. There may be some permanent residence-ing on my part when I get there. I just love it too much, and I haven't even gotten there yet. Just preparing you for the inevitable, people.

Lastly, please listen to Ryan Adams' Heartbreaker.
Album of this week of my life.

Now for the main event.

A brief synopsis of today. What I choose to remember/discuss, anyway...

1. I started my London prep class today. Everyone was pretty hyper and anxious to meet each other; I'm sure that'll wear off by the third class time of meeting from 5:10-7:00 p.m. At least we're going to talk about a subject that all interests us, yeah?

So the requirements for the class are to do readings for the London Walks class we'll be taking once there, and then a group presentation on one of the sites we visit. (Woot Blenheim Palace!) Nothing too major.

2. Doppelgänger. My friend and I were discussing this in the prep class. I don't remember how it came up; I think we were talking about Ghost Hunters or something...oh yeah, the London Centre was once used as a hospital before BYU bought it and we got on the topic of ghosts. Anyway, we decided that although doppelgängers would be useful in our plans for world domination, the whole "evil" part just isn't kosher with our need to come to power peacefully. But it's an interesting concept; I only knew that Percy Bysshe Shelley had had experiences with his doppelgänger, but my friend told me that so did John Donne, Goethe, and Abraham Lincoln.

3. I went to the gym this morning. Got up all early and everything. Going at night just doesn't sit well with my psyche. Other than that, I studied my little heart out for my Shakespeare exam tomorrow. I'm pretty sure Rick hasn't even thought to test us on half the stuff I studied, but I find it's best to "overprepare. The best defense is a good offense." (School of Rock?)

Okay I'm losing the thread here so that's probably my cue to leave. One last word of advice: Don't buy gold nail polish unless you (A) want to spend three hours and a can of paint thinner to get it off, or (B) want to wait four 1/2 years for it to wear off. (Numbers here are approximations and cannot be guaranteed as specific to the individual consumer.)

Hey, it's March!

Vantage Point: The Big Movie that Says Very Little.

READ: Spoilers abound.
Simply put, not even Matthew Fox could redeem this one for me. The movie attempts to address what are generally seen as "big issues," such as international terrorism and the consequences America has received in leading the fight against it, double agents, the media's control over American worldviews, the government's knee-jerk reaction to bomb even friendly nations without even 5 minutes of debate, suicide bombing, etc. But that's all it was--an attempt and a hinting at the issues, but never a getting around to facing them head-on. One of the most unsatisfying aspects of the movie is one of the main plot points, which is Matthew Fox's character. I think I could even go so far as to say that his character, who crosses the red line and becomes the enemy, is the whole reason we are sitting in that darkened auditorium in the first place. His decision to help the terrorist group is never answered. He dies and mumbles something to his ex-partner before we ever fully learn his motives for being an agent to so much chaos and destruction. The movie is called Vantage Point, and yet we never get to see the one person's point of view that matters most to the movie. To me this represents a serious hole in plot structure and overall vision.

Beyond that, the sentimentality was enough to make me and the person sitting next to me to laugh out loud and say, "Did that seriously just happen?" In one instance, the little girl, Ana, just happens to end up ten feet from the final scene of action and is the cause of a very contrived car crash involving the very ambulance driven by two terrorists who have the kidnapped President stowed in the back. (Never fear. The ambulance flips and slides to a comic stop just feet from where the beleagered little girl was standing, who meanwhile has found safety in the arms of an American family man looking for a way to solve his own marital troubles back in the States.) Nothing is too implausible for this overblown movie. Dennis Quaid's coming-to-the-rescue, I'm-a-redeemed-man-by-show's-end bit is somewhat awkward also, because, once again, his situation is only hinted at and never fully explained.

What it comes down to is an epic case of "I'm the director/screen-writer/producer, now read my mind while I show you glimpses of what I mean to say but don't have the chutzpa to come out and say it," -itis.