Timpanogos Storytelling Festival

Earlier this year I told my friend I wanted to go to the Timpanogos Storytelling Festival. I was living in California at the time, so this was a big resolution. Then I decided that in order for my desire to become a reality, I needed to be more assertive.

"I'm going to the Timpanogos Storytelling Festival!" I asserted. And that was that.

In early August I moved to Utah, and I still have no job (which usually lines up with having no money, too, an unfortunate consideration when trying to do extracurricular or social activities, such as attending storytelling festivals), and I had pretty much given up on the idea--I wasn't even really aware of when it was any more--when another friend called me to let me know she'd be playing in one of the music groups at the festival.

"I'm not sure if I can go," I said over the phone.

I can't remember if I mentioned I had no money or if she knew that already, but she suggested, "Have you looked into volunteering?"

Why no, no I hadn't. So I did. This is was Monday. The festival started yesterday (Thursday). They only had a few shifts left for volunteer work, so I chose the van driving on Thursday night. Four and a half hours in a van? I can do that. Heck, I'm used to driving a van! In return, I was given two adult tickets to the full event. Not a bad tradeoff for only 4.5 hours of work.

As Carmen Deedy said today in one of her stories, "Sometimes the universe just puts it in your hand."

Reading List

I like my little list of books I'm reading (see the right side of the screen). Someday I plan to connect that list to my books on Librarything, but as that does not seem to be likely anytime soon, I'll leave it how it is. I do wonder, however, at what point do you decide you are no longer reading a book? Or at what point do you take a book off the "currently reading" list? Some examples:

1. Middlemarch. I attempted to read this book. It was my second attempt. I got past page 30 this time, all the way to somewhere in the 100s. Unfortunately, it was still just as ungripping as the first time I tried to read it. Maybe it was because it was my toothbrush book* and I wasn't spending enough time with it. Maybe I needed to watch the movie or read a synopsis first so I knew what was going on. Whatever the reason, I gave up, and a few weeks later--when I realized I'd given up--I took it off the list.

2. Feeling Good. I start. I stop. I start. I stop. Luckily it's a self-help book, so the plot isn't all that complicated. I've read part of it in the past week, so it's on the list. For now.

3. The Wonder Spot. When I found myself halfway through the book and was still waiting for the plot to start I decided to read the last five pages and call it good. And I'm glad I did--I was still waiting for something to happen those last five pages. I think since I read over half of it, beginning and ending included, I'm going to list it as read.

The end.


*I have an electric toothbrush and find it an incredible waste of time to do nothing for 2.5 minutes at least twice each day. Thus I keep a book by my toothbrush so I can be productive during that time. Books with short sections are the best, while more involved novels, like Middlemarch... well, let's just say I don't get as excited to brush my teeth.

Incidentally, I keep books in the kitchen for the same reason--eating takes too much time. I just need to get some books on my iPod for washing dishes and doing laundry and I'll be set.

Things I Can See From My Bedroom Window

-Trees
-Cars
-A cat that runs away from me and meows threateningly if I get too close
-The Trolley Square tower at night when it's lit up (I have no idea where it is during the day)
-Tree-Hugger's garden
-Sky
-A tiny bit of downtown (I'd be able to see more if it weren't for the trees, but I'd rather see trees than downtown)

I just realized I can't really see any mountains out my window. I love the view anyway.

Elegyrl's Tally

1 smashed penny
2 letters
3 cards (one musical card)
6 postcards

Who has the coolest friends ever? That'd be me.

Blinkers

Using a blinker is just like asking, "Excuse me, may I please come over?"

To which the car in the applicable lane says, "Why yes, come right over."

Unless, of course, the car in the applicable lane never learned to share or have good manners when it was just a Matchbox-sized toddler, in which case the car in the applicable lane speeds up and says, "No! My lane!"

On a separate but related note: Don't you think if you were driving a motorcycle, which is already more dangerous than driving a car, you would adhere to such common-sense traffic laws as red lights? All I can say is that I'm glad I didn't start going right when my light turned green, because I was already in the intersection when he zoomed in front of me.

Conclusion: I am not going to make any comments about region-specific driving (because I don't think that's very fair or very true), but I will say that I am more accustomed to the unspoken rules of driving in California. I am more able to anticipate the actions of other drivers and the potential dangers of the areas. Someday I will have driven more in Utah than in California, and the balance will probably tip the other way. But until then, I'd best be alert.

My Family Is Hyperpolyglotistic

Languages spoken on missions served by the members of Betty's family:

Father: German
Brother: French
Brother: Portuguese
Brother: Cantonese
Betty: Spanish

Why do I love this fact so much? I don't know. But I do.

Hello, Utah!

It's very difficult to write and post blogs when your computer has given up on connecting to the internet. I guess it's still recovering from the move.