If you want to read something inspirational, go here: http://crookedbrooke.blogspot.com/2009/06/then-hero-comes-along.html
You won't be sorry.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
I KID YOU NOT.
So, a few weeks ago I had the most random dream ever involving a moose and my car. Basically, my car was parked in a church parking lot. When I approached my car to get in, there was this gigantic moose pounding on the hood and windshield with its...antlers? Whatever they're called. Anyway, my car was completely owned by this thing. I was mad. And that was the end of my dream.
And why am I sharing this? Because, lo and behold, yesterday I was reading the Police Beat in the Daily Universe:
"June 4: A moose was loose on campus so police called the Utah Division of Wildlife Resources. Officials came and tranquilized the moose. However, before going down the moose damaged two vehicles in the parking lot across from the SAS Building."
AHHHHHHHHHHH!
So glad neither of those cars were mine, but STILL. Freaky.
And here's another Police Beat gem that I couldn't help but share:
"June 3: An EFY counselor thought he could smell marijuana in Gates Hall around 11 p.m. He found three EFY participants smoking marijuana in the stairwell. Police said the juveniles will be charged."
Hahahahahahahahaha.
That is all.
And why am I sharing this? Because, lo and behold, yesterday I was reading the Police Beat in the Daily Universe:
"June 4: A moose was loose on campus so police called the Utah Division of Wildlife Resources. Officials came and tranquilized the moose. However, before going down the moose damaged two vehicles in the parking lot across from the SAS Building."
AHHHHHHHHHHH!
So glad neither of those cars were mine, but STILL. Freaky.
And here's another Police Beat gem that I couldn't help but share:
"June 3: An EFY counselor thought he could smell marijuana in Gates Hall around 11 p.m. He found three EFY participants smoking marijuana in the stairwell. Police said the juveniles will be charged."
Hahahahahahahahaha.
That is all.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
10 of my favorite things about Grandpa Killian:
1. He taught me to love peanut butter and banana sandwiches. It is still one of my favorites.
2. On my eighth birthday, he taught me how to tie a square knot. He said I should learn it because it looks just like an "8."
3. Grandpa always liked to teach me new vocabulary. One day, he taught me the word "inconspicuous." Ever since then, whenever I saw that word, I always thought of Grandpa.
4. He explained to me that the word "inflammable" means what most people think "flammable" means, when in fact "inflammable" means that something could easily burst into flames.
5. Grandma and Grandpa always played a"game" with me (and the other Smith grandkids) in the car when we'd drive to and from their apartment in Kingwood. I was always a very quiet kid, so I'd usually sit in the backseat and listen to Grandma and Grandpa's conversations up front. After a while, Grandpa would say, "Hey Shirl, Katie's gotten awfully quiet--I wonder where she is?" and Grandma would say, "Gee, I don't know, George. Maybe she jumped out the window!" And then Grandpa would reply, "Oh well! I guess we'll just have to go home without her," at which point I would shout in protest, "No, no I'm still in the car!"
6. I always knew there was one person who would sneak more cookies out of Grandma's cookie jar than me, and that was Grandpa. (His favorite kind was peanut butter.)
7. I learned that one flavor of cereal was never enough for Grandpa. He always mixed three or four different kinds into one container for the "perfect cereal." Unlike sneaking cookies and eating peanut butter and banana sandwiches, I never picked up on the cereal habit.
8. Grandma was always very good at calling us and keeping in touch. At the end of each and every phone conversation when we were saying goodbye, Grandpa would pipe in and say, "Goodnight!" It seemed that Grandpa let Grandma do all the talking, but he was always there, listening to every word we had to say.
9. When I was 8 or 9 years old, Grandpa taught me how to play Monopoly and Solitaire. He was very good at both. I never got past an 8 or 9-year-old level, but I appreciated that he took the time to teach me the things he enjoyed.
10. Although Grandpa was never a very "huggy" man, when I was little he'd pull me up onto his lap and snuggle with me in his chair. When we snuggled together, he called me his "lapbaby." It was always our special time together--just him and me.
Throughout his life, Grandpa always took the time to teach me new things, and share the things that he loved with me. I appreciate all the things he did to make me feel special as his granddaughter, and the many little things he did to show he cared. I will certainly miss him in my life, but I am grateful for the knowledge I have of the Gospel and the Plan of Salvation. I am sure he is very happy in the afterlife, sitting in a heavenly version of his chair, and enjoying the company of his ancestors.
2. On my eighth birthday, he taught me how to tie a square knot. He said I should learn it because it looks just like an "8."
3. Grandpa always liked to teach me new vocabulary. One day, he taught me the word "inconspicuous." Ever since then, whenever I saw that word, I always thought of Grandpa.
4. He explained to me that the word "inflammable" means what most people think "flammable" means, when in fact "inflammable" means that something could easily burst into flames.
5. Grandma and Grandpa always played a"game" with me (and the other Smith grandkids) in the car when we'd drive to and from their apartment in Kingwood. I was always a very quiet kid, so I'd usually sit in the backseat and listen to Grandma and Grandpa's conversations up front. After a while, Grandpa would say, "Hey Shirl, Katie's gotten awfully quiet--I wonder where she is?" and Grandma would say, "Gee, I don't know, George. Maybe she jumped out the window!" And then Grandpa would reply, "Oh well! I guess we'll just have to go home without her," at which point I would shout in protest, "No, no I'm still in the car!"
6. I always knew there was one person who would sneak more cookies out of Grandma's cookie jar than me, and that was Grandpa. (His favorite kind was peanut butter.)
7. I learned that one flavor of cereal was never enough for Grandpa. He always mixed three or four different kinds into one container for the "perfect cereal." Unlike sneaking cookies and eating peanut butter and banana sandwiches, I never picked up on the cereal habit.
8. Grandma was always very good at calling us and keeping in touch. At the end of each and every phone conversation when we were saying goodbye, Grandpa would pipe in and say, "Goodnight!" It seemed that Grandpa let Grandma do all the talking, but he was always there, listening to every word we had to say.
9. When I was 8 or 9 years old, Grandpa taught me how to play Monopoly and Solitaire. He was very good at both. I never got past an 8 or 9-year-old level, but I appreciated that he took the time to teach me the things he enjoyed.
10. Although Grandpa was never a very "huggy" man, when I was little he'd pull me up onto his lap and snuggle with me in his chair. When we snuggled together, he called me his "lapbaby." It was always our special time together--just him and me.
Throughout his life, Grandpa always took the time to teach me new things, and share the things that he loved with me. I appreciate all the things he did to make me feel special as his granddaughter, and the many little things he did to show he cared. I will certainly miss him in my life, but I am grateful for the knowledge I have of the Gospel and the Plan of Salvation. I am sure he is very happy in the afterlife, sitting in a heavenly version of his chair, and enjoying the company of his ancestors.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Our fam.
I'm usually skeptical of those sites that claim to predict what you and your spouse's babies will look like by combining your photos, but Mackenzie and Beau's result was actually pretty cute. So I decided to give it a try.
Holy crap. Heaven sent...really?
Ok, who thinks this looks like Emily Lloyd?
Creepy pictures, creepy baby. Huh.
Holy crap. Heaven sent...really?
Ok, who thinks this looks like Emily Lloyd?
Creepy pictures, creepy baby. Huh.Quite frankly, I am creeped out. Except for the Emily Lloyd baby...that one's actually cute. The rest of 'em--free birth control.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Stuff that's happened.
I just imported some pictures from Joe's camera, and here's what I found:
Omgit'sourquintet! Minus Kenji. This was from our recital last semester and I'd totally forgotten about this picture. Fer cute.
Also, in honor of Valentine's Day, I will publicly brag on the Internet about what Joe did for me. After a delicious dinner at Guru's (cilantro-lime quesadillas...DELICIOUS), he surprised me with this:
Tulips! Complete with homemade card and old brown banana in background.
We also went to Best Buy and picked out a little Valentine's gift for him:
The Prestige. Personally, my vote was for Hercules, but whatever. Still a good choice.
(On a sidenote, I just want everyone to know that we celebrated Valentine's Day on Friday the 13th. It was awesome--no snow, no crowds.)
I know I have some adorable Lulu pictures on my camera, but I can't find it at the moment. So, these less-cute pictures will have to suffice.
Omgit'sourquintet! Minus Kenji. This was from our recital last semester and I'd totally forgotten about this picture. Fer cute.Also, in honor of Valentine's Day, I will publicly brag on the Internet about what Joe did for me. After a delicious dinner at Guru's (cilantro-lime quesadillas...DELICIOUS), he surprised me with this:
Tulips! Complete with homemade card and old brown banana in background.
We also went to Best Buy and picked out a little Valentine's gift for him:
The Prestige. Personally, my vote was for Hercules, but whatever. Still a good choice.(On a sidenote, I just want everyone to know that we celebrated Valentine's Day on Friday the 13th. It was awesome--no snow, no crowds.)
I know I have some adorable Lulu pictures on my camera, but I can't find it at the moment. So, these less-cute pictures will have to suffice.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Bassoon Sense
This post is dedicated to my blue sweater-wearing friend and colleague, Jessi Judd.
Jessi and I were talking in rehearsal yesterday (always a dangerous thing), and we started discussing how some composers have great "bassoon sense" and others just... don't. What I mean by that is some composers really wrote awesome parts for us. They had a certain knack for bassoon-writing. They make us lowly bassoons feel important, needed, and just plain awesome (which we are). Typical good parts include sweet solos and material that makes us feel like we're actually part of the woodwind section and not a low brass player who has a curiously wooden-looking instrument.
Others composers, however, wrote us some particularly awful parts. These offenders make us feel like we are back in seventh grade band, playing some horrid piece with three other bassoons in our section. Typically, said "horrid piece" involves blowing our brains out and still struggling to be heard. Oh, but no need, because usually they just copy out the trombone part (or heaven forbid the tuba part) for us to play. It's like, they didn't know what to do with us so they decided, "Oh, why don't I just stick 'em with the low brass!" Horrendous. Heinous!
So to honor this distinction, we decided to make a list of composers with the best bassoon sense (Bassoon Whisperers, as I like to call them) and the worst offenders. In no particular order, here they are:
The Bassoon Whisperers
-Beethoven
-Shostakovich
-Stravinsky
-Rimsky-Korsakov
-Prokofiev
-Mozart
-Copland
-Moussorgsky
-Ravel
-Sibelius
-Tchaikovsky
-Vaughan-Williams
Worst Bassoon Offenders
-Mahler
-Wagner
-Brahms
-Berlioz
-Dvorak
-Delius
-Sousa
Jessi and I were talking in rehearsal yesterday (always a dangerous thing), and we started discussing how some composers have great "bassoon sense" and others just... don't. What I mean by that is some composers really wrote awesome parts for us. They had a certain knack for bassoon-writing. They make us lowly bassoons feel important, needed, and just plain awesome (which we are). Typical good parts include sweet solos and material that makes us feel like we're actually part of the woodwind section and not a low brass player who has a curiously wooden-looking instrument.
Others composers, however, wrote us some particularly awful parts. These offenders make us feel like we are back in seventh grade band, playing some horrid piece with three other bassoons in our section. Typically, said "horrid piece" involves blowing our brains out and still struggling to be heard. Oh, but no need, because usually they just copy out the trombone part (or heaven forbid the tuba part) for us to play. It's like, they didn't know what to do with us so they decided, "Oh, why don't I just stick 'em with the low brass!" Horrendous. Heinous!
So to honor this distinction, we decided to make a list of composers with the best bassoon sense (Bassoon Whisperers, as I like to call them) and the worst offenders. In no particular order, here they are:
The Bassoon Whisperers
-Beethoven
-Shostakovich
-Stravinsky
-Rimsky-Korsakov
-Prokofiev
-Mozart
-Copland
-Moussorgsky
-Ravel
-Sibelius
-Tchaikovsky
-Vaughan-Williams
Worst Bassoon Offenders
-Mahler
-Wagner
-Brahms
-Berlioz
-Dvorak
-Delius
-Sousa
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