I babysat my nephews tonight while my sister and her husband took my parents out to the Opera. We Hursts are a cultured breed. Driving home, I regaled my parents with the ridiculous exploits of their adorable grandsons. Milo has allegedly been described by his supervisors as "the king of the nursery." My mom chooses to interpret this as an exhibition of pro-social, friendly behavior. Milo's mom fears that her son may be the class tyrant. Alas, we literate folk are too close to death to ever truly understand these playground politics. Is it that Milo is self-possessed? Effortlessly cool? At any rate, my parents and I agreed that he had a certain "je ne sais quoi" which must set him apart.
"I want to have je ne sais quoi" I remarked from the back seat, not a little jealous.
"Jenny sais quoi" offered my Dad. Apparently that's what I am. Jenny sais quoi.
I like it.
For all you non-french speaking people (although you should know this anyway because it is a figure of speech) "je ne sais quoi" is what you use to describe something that is indescribable. I tend to imagine it being said by a middle aged lady swirling a champagne bottle in her right hand. I want to be indescribable. To break it up though and translate it into my dad's version it is literally "Jenny know what." But when he said it out loud my mind immediately interpreted it as "Jenny c'est quoi" which (as far as I can tell) is pronounced exactly the same but means "Jenny is what".
Well seeing as I like to view myself as that adorably quirky girl with strange habits and a penchant for using hair gel as contact solution, I kind of like this pithy little phrase.
Jenny is...what? It's kind of my life's mission to find out. And if you ever see me and say to yourself 'what the bucket is that girl doing'? let me know if you figure it out. Because I sure haven't yet.
And with that in mind, I would like to offer a case in point of my ....adorable quirkiness? On my way home from Alabama I started getting freaked out about everything that had to be done before I left for Uganda. It's like preparing for the apocalypse. All these aspirations that I would never do in a million years if I was at home suddenly have a deadline to them. When I'm stressed I like to make to- do lists because they somehow make everything more manageable. Here is the result. Keep in mind these are preparations to go to the poorest country I have ever visited on the other side of the world for two months
1. learn to braid hair
2. buy chacos
3. load up the kindle
4. learn camera
5. steal Emily and Matt's music
6. figure out $ in Africa
7. babysit for E+M -make $!
8. skirts and long pants
9. really effective bug spray and sunscreen
10. but new contacts
11. start wearing retainer
12 find glasses!
13. figure out what to do in London
14. back up files on computer
15. fix computer
16. start washing face
17 jogging
18. yoga
19. movies for Africa
20. earbuds
21. buy the song Waka Waka
22. cut hair
Friday, May 25, 2012
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Simple Fictions
Dear reader,
You may or may not be aware that I, Jenny, tend to cultivate unhealthy relationships with characters in books. This, I believe stems from my brain's inability to sort out reality and fiction. Because sometimes fiction feels more real! And, of course, it is very often more interesting. This kind of quality was cultivated and encouraged when I was a child. They called it 'imagination' and all the conventional people were doing it. Or they thought they were. I don't think that they grew up and literally prayed for Harry, Ron and Hermione to make it out alive before coming to their senses and realizing that it was just a book. I don't think they relived Sirius's death scene over and over again. They didn't understand Harry the way I did.
Sound like a psychotic fan girl? Here's the thing. I am and I ain't. I know its a bit egotistical to say this, like my love is more real than theirs! More delusional! More unhealthy! but...I really think it is. I'm not into the paraphernalia of a lot of books or the theme parks (okay yes clearly we are still focusing on Harry Potter but I'll leave that in a minute, I promise). I literally feel this deep connection like you would with a close friend. I was in this stupor when I finished the 7th HP book. I literally just felt this hole in my life: it was over. I started to question everything. My existence. The point of my life. How I could be real when Harry wasn't? The world I had just stepped out of seemed so genuine as well. The only way I can explain it is to draw from the movie Inception. When they come out of the dream, they question reality. They can't be sure what is real and what is a dream. Because in some cases they are equally meaningful.
Key word: some. There are some books that are total crap and we're not gonna talk about them.
But back to the point: there is something wrong (or right!) with me which causes me to be ....consumed by fiction. This explains my actions over the past few weeks. When I got home from school I just read. And READ!!! Fiction! Oh, so much fiction! It was beautiful! It was the kind of thing I never do anymore as an English turned IR major. It was gloriously irresponsible. Like the cookie monster gorging on treats I just compulsively kept reading.
Well okay. All of this buildup (which I didn't actually expect to write but ended up writing anyway so that maybe I could rationalize my coming statement a little bit) comes down to this:
I
LOVE
THE
HUNGER
GAMES
There. I said it. I LOVE it. Like, unhealthily so. The first time I read it a few summers ago, I had my doubts. I knew a lot of Mormons liked it which made me approach it with caution. But I read the first one and was absolutely hooked. So then I read the second one. This was in a period of between 24-48 hours. I'm not a super fast reader but you can bet that I was flipping through those pages almost that whole time. Food, sleep, everything goes on hold when there's a good book around. So, I finished the second book, but the third one wasn't out yet. This was upsetting. I had entered the world of Panem and inirita would not let me back out. I felt this deep connection. So...I read them again! I remember literally putting book two down, thinking about it and then (at the latest the next day) deciding to pick up number one again and re-read them both. All this in one approximately 5 day period.
Then the 3rd book came out and it was like....kind of exhausting. So much bad happens! I liked it, with reservations, put it away with fond disappointment and kind of got on with my life.
Then the movie came out. And this really is pretty fan girl-ish here because I'm supposed to be a book snob but...I really loved the movie too. So I thought to myself why? Why do I love this movie of innocent children forced to kill each other? Why can't I get it out of my head? Out of my gut?
Well, obviously the author is trying to make a point with her subject matter.
I just wasn't sure exactly what it was. But the story-it resonates with a lot of people. Which means there most be truth in it. I mean, there is the kind of simple yet still disturbing message that we readers are, in fact, the capital. We love reading a book about children dying just like they love watching it. What does that reveal about us?
Well, as you may have already picked up on, I'm going to wax philosophical here. There is a quote I absolutely love which states:
"The details of reality can disguise essential truths that are best revealed through simple fictions."
This quote came from (of all places) page 37 of my econ text book sophomore year. See? I told you all the conventional people were doing it! It has now become one of my mantras as an aspiring writer. The reason fiction is so powerful is because, whether overtly or not, it can be a conduit of truth. Truth we can't see in our own complex lives which we lead with oh so much internal bias.
Now, I'm not sure what exactly the truth of the Hunger Games is. But I am convinced that it is this truth nipping at everyone which is the source (however deep) of the superstardum of the series. I would guess that there isn't one meaning for everyone. Many people argue that there is in fact no meaning--I was very annoyed a few months ago when a boy in my lab scoffed at the writing saying 'it's not Shakespeare' to which I wanted to reply, 'No! Of course it isn't! You wouldn't read it if it was!' Sometimes mass appeal is a form of genius. There is definitely a meaning. It's just multifaceted and obscured by a lot of fun action which is why I love analyzing it so much.
You may or may not be aware that I, Jenny, tend to cultivate unhealthy relationships with characters in books. This, I believe stems from my brain's inability to sort out reality and fiction. Because sometimes fiction feels more real! And, of course, it is very often more interesting. This kind of quality was cultivated and encouraged when I was a child. They called it 'imagination' and all the conventional people were doing it. Or they thought they were. I don't think that they grew up and literally prayed for Harry, Ron and Hermione to make it out alive before coming to their senses and realizing that it was just a book. I don't think they relived Sirius's death scene over and over again. They didn't understand Harry the way I did.
Sound like a psychotic fan girl? Here's the thing. I am and I ain't. I know its a bit egotistical to say this, like my love is more real than theirs! More delusional! More unhealthy! but...I really think it is. I'm not into the paraphernalia of a lot of books or the theme parks (okay yes clearly we are still focusing on Harry Potter but I'll leave that in a minute, I promise). I literally feel this deep connection like you would with a close friend. I was in this stupor when I finished the 7th HP book. I literally just felt this hole in my life: it was over. I started to question everything. My existence. The point of my life. How I could be real when Harry wasn't? The world I had just stepped out of seemed so genuine as well. The only way I can explain it is to draw from the movie Inception. When they come out of the dream, they question reality. They can't be sure what is real and what is a dream. Because in some cases they are equally meaningful.
Key word: some. There are some books that are total crap and we're not gonna talk about them.
But back to the point: there is something wrong (or right!) with me which causes me to be ....consumed by fiction. This explains my actions over the past few weeks. When I got home from school I just read. And READ!!! Fiction! Oh, so much fiction! It was beautiful! It was the kind of thing I never do anymore as an English turned IR major. It was gloriously irresponsible. Like the cookie monster gorging on treats I just compulsively kept reading.
Well okay. All of this buildup (which I didn't actually expect to write but ended up writing anyway so that maybe I could rationalize my coming statement a little bit) comes down to this:
I
LOVE
THE
HUNGER
GAMES
There. I said it. I LOVE it. Like, unhealthily so. The first time I read it a few summers ago, I had my doubts. I knew a lot of Mormons liked it which made me approach it with caution. But I read the first one and was absolutely hooked. So then I read the second one. This was in a period of between 24-48 hours. I'm not a super fast reader but you can bet that I was flipping through those pages almost that whole time. Food, sleep, everything goes on hold when there's a good book around. So, I finished the second book, but the third one wasn't out yet. This was upsetting. I had entered the world of Panem and inirita would not let me back out. I felt this deep connection. So...I read them again! I remember literally putting book two down, thinking about it and then (at the latest the next day) deciding to pick up number one again and re-read them both. All this in one approximately 5 day period.
Then the 3rd book came out and it was like....kind of exhausting. So much bad happens! I liked it, with reservations, put it away with fond disappointment and kind of got on with my life.
Then the movie came out. And this really is pretty fan girl-ish here because I'm supposed to be a book snob but...I really loved the movie too. So I thought to myself why? Why do I love this movie of innocent children forced to kill each other? Why can't I get it out of my head? Out of my gut?
Well, obviously the author is trying to make a point with her subject matter.
I just wasn't sure exactly what it was. But the story-it resonates with a lot of people. Which means there most be truth in it. I mean, there is the kind of simple yet still disturbing message that we readers are, in fact, the capital. We love reading a book about children dying just like they love watching it. What does that reveal about us?
Well, as you may have already picked up on, I'm going to wax philosophical here. There is a quote I absolutely love which states:
"The details of reality can disguise essential truths that are best revealed through simple fictions."
This quote came from (of all places) page 37 of my econ text book sophomore year. See? I told you all the conventional people were doing it! It has now become one of my mantras as an aspiring writer. The reason fiction is so powerful is because, whether overtly or not, it can be a conduit of truth. Truth we can't see in our own complex lives which we lead with oh so much internal bias.
Now, I'm not sure what exactly the truth of the Hunger Games is. But I am convinced that it is this truth nipping at everyone which is the source (however deep) of the superstardum of the series. I would guess that there isn't one meaning for everyone. Many people argue that there is in fact no meaning--I was very annoyed a few months ago when a boy in my lab scoffed at the writing saying 'it's not Shakespeare' to which I wanted to reply, 'No! Of course it isn't! You wouldn't read it if it was!' Sometimes mass appeal is a form of genius. There is definitely a meaning. It's just multifaceted and obscured by a lot of fun action which is why I love analyzing it so much.
So earlier this summer I read the trilogy again with slightly newer eyes. I was very moved by it (again), very thought provoked and yet still unsure what exactly the author was trying to critique about man and the modern society. It wouldn't be a good book if it was too easy to moralize. However, I did get to one section from the end of Mockingjay which I can only describe as the thesis of the entire series. It comes as Katniss is being dropped back off in district 12:
“Are you preparing for another war,
Plutrarch?” I ask.
“Oh, not now. Now we’re in that sweet period where everyone
agrees that our recent horrors should never be repeated,” he says. “But
collective thinking is usually short-lived. We’re fickle, stupid beings with
poor memories and a great gift for self-destruction. Although who knows? Maybe
this will be it, Katniss.”
“What?”
I ask.
“The
time it sticks. Maybe we are witnessing the evolution of the human race. Think
about that.” And then he asks me if I’d like to perform on a new singing
program he’s launching in a few weeks. Something upbeat would be good. He’ll
send the crew to my house. (pg. 379)
Well there you go. I read this passage and it kind of hit me why I love the series. The IR student within me who studies wars and the UN and peacekeeping and what not is fascinated and vindicated by the plot line. The English major in me loves the sharp juxtaposition between the prospect of human's constant need for war and for entertainment. Or both as one? And then another reason it appealed to me, sort of hit me on the head.
I'm going to Uganda to study child soldiers. Children in war. Well, that's exactly what the Hunger Games is. I sudden't didn't feel so guilty about shirking my research.
The more I thought about it the more I liked this interpretation. The author isn't really preaching. She's not saying exactly what's right and what's wrong- Katniss votes to continue the Hunger Games for goodness sake! What she's doing is pointing out the complex human condition in a way that made people want to listen.
And, I admire her writing. The last book? She was not trying to please anyone with it. I wasn't pleased at first. It was tough and horrible and sad and a lot of people died and it wasn't particularly satisfying. But you know what? Even though it took place in the future where people wear funny clothes and use children as gladiator's and have crazy mutation animal weapons: it's realistic.
Real life doesn't exactly have a plot arch. Real life doesn't worry about killing off your favorite character. Real life doesn't balance the amount of violence-there isn't a quota. Real life doesn't erase pain just because the enemy is vanquished. Indeed, is the enemy vanquished at the end of Mockingjay? Its ambiguously implied that a new one will just take its place. That's the nature of the world.
I don't need to go out and kill anyone or start a revolution. But I need to think about these issues. We all do. And anyone, author, teacher, actress, whoever, who can reach out to so many people and get a dialogue going gets credit in my book.
I don't need to go out and kill anyone or start a revolution. But I need to think about these issues. We all do. And anyone, author, teacher, actress, whoever, who can reach out to so many people and get a dialogue going gets credit in my book.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
BAMA
 |
| Eliana liked climbing the stairs |
On Sunday Laura, Dustin and Eliana flew in and then a little later in the day Alex did too. It was the first time I've been with my entire family for a year so that was of course the best part of the entire vacation. Mostly we just hung out. We went to the beach a lot, we visited this place called alligator ally where I got to hold a baby alligator and feed the big alligators! We also went go-carting on this multistory track, and played pirate minigolf. The absolute coolest thing though, was that we rented a kayak for the week and I went kayaking in the ocean a few times.
 |
| No nonsense! |
 |
| We even flew kites on the beach! |
 |
| ...with marginal success |
 |
| At first Milo was really afraid of the water, but he got over it by the end of the week |
On Friday, Laura's last day, the two of us decided to kayak out into the gulf and we were just sitting there when we STARTED SEEING DOLPHINS! They were so close! There was a mom and baby that came about 10 feet away from our kayak. It was almost a little bit freaky to know that they were wild and there was nothing in between them and us in the open water. But really cool! There was a whole pod near us too which we followed and we saw their dorsal fins surfacing or heard them exhaling through their blowholes. Another one came really close and surfaced about 7 feet directly ahead of us. Laura (the zookeeper) was beside herself with excitement. She dipped her feet into the water and started splashing which she admitted was a bad idea because it would attract sharks. Needless to say, I discouraged her from actually jumping in to swim. I was feeling a little vulnerable as it was. So eventually we headed back in--only to realize that we had drifted a lot further than we had expected. Man, kayaking is hard work, especially against the ocean current! We capsized trying to get back into the lagoon but that wasn't a big deal cause the water was only 3 feet deep there. But it was a wonderful dolphin adventure! It was also great to spend some time alone with Laura since we hardly ever get to see each other.
Later that day, we were at the beach and we saw a guy who was swept out by the current get rescued by the fire department. That was another unique sight. The first guy on the scene was super young and fit and ran into the waves in slow motion like he was a character on Baywatch. The next guy to run in was this huge older man with folds of fat protruding from his swim trunks. He actually got to the drowning man first. But not before Matt did. Matt found him and offered him his bogey board to hold onto. Which really freaked Emily out because, actually, Matt can't really swim. There were some other good Samaritans who had been swimming towards him from down the beach who helped too. So see? Man is good. And the dude survived, mostly just embarrassed by all the attention.
Another notable thing was that my Mom planned all these cute activities for the kids. One of which was 'fishing.' She and my Dad took one of the fishing poles found in the toy shed, rigged it up so you could clip things too it and then we all 'went fishing' from the third floor deck. My mom, who was on the second floor deck would attach little prizes to the pole for the kids to real in. They got Swedish Fish and bubbles and toys. It was really cute! I even got a little something too.
Oh, and lets not forget stargazing through my Dad's super awesome telescope!
On our way back from Gulf Shores we decided to stop in New Orleans. I've wanted to see it for awhile. I think my Dad's main reason was to cross off state 49 from his states visited list. Once he hits North Dakota (which he claims is a myth) he will have been to all 50! But yeah. We spent a few hours walking around the French Quarter. It was ...eclectic. Cool, but, seeing as how I don't drink, I will probably never go back.
Oh, and lets not forget stargazing through my Dad's super awesome telescope!
 |
| they weren't prepared for the flash |
 |
| our little refugee, straight from his first year of law school! |
On our way back from Gulf Shores we decided to stop in New Orleans. I've wanted to see it for awhile. I think my Dad's main reason was to cross off state 49 from his states visited list. Once he hits North Dakota (which he claims is a myth) he will have been to all 50! But yeah. We spent a few hours walking around the French Quarter. It was ...eclectic. Cool, but, seeing as how I don't drink, I will probably never go back.
 |
| We ate some authentic New Orleans Cuisine |
 |
| It looked like this |
 |
| party all the time |
 |
| Doesn't this bike remind you of rootbeer? |
 |
| One of these almost hit our car while we were driving...it was pretty funny |
 |
| me and my papa outside St. Louis Cathedral |
 |
| two cool cats |
 |
| voodoo man |
 |
| some bums. They were not very talented |
 |
| trolley by the river -right by where a man offered to sell my parents crack! |
So that was New Orleans! We left in the evening, drove until we reached Jackson Mississippi and stayed there for the night at a very questionable Super 8. Poor Emily and Matt had to deal with their children all the way home. I have some experience driving with them. Here is an example of them in a cute moment, ie momentarily distracted from their angst at sitting in the same place for hours
Well, that was family vacation! Now I am home and getting things ready for my big trip in just over 2 weeks. Crazy! But more on that later...
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Notes to Self
So, I have a lot of reasonably interesting things to say but not enough time to write them right now. However a friend was bugging me about not updating my blog. I have come up with a solution to this problem: I am going to create a running miniseries which I call "Notes to Self". These will happen periodically, when appropriate, between long blogposts, whenever. They are reminders of the stupid things I have done. And yes. Every single note to self will reflect a thing that actually happened. To kick off, I will start with 3 from the last 48 hours.
Note to self: Driving a go cart in a dress is not very ladylike. Only engage in such activity when trying to cheer your sisters up.
Note to self: Hair gel is not a good substitute for contact solution. But don't worry...poison control is a very valuable resource should the occasion recur.
Note to self: Throwing the ball at the guy running to tackle you is not an acceptable play in football
That's all folks. Next time I do something totally idiotic, don't worry. You will be the first to know
Note to self: Driving a go cart in a dress is not very ladylike. Only engage in such activity when trying to cheer your sisters up.
Note to self: Hair gel is not a good substitute for contact solution. But don't worry...poison control is a very valuable resource should the occasion recur.
Note to self: Throwing the ball at the guy running to tackle you is not an acceptable play in football
That's all folks. Next time I do something totally idiotic, don't worry. You will be the first to know
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Arches
With everything that's happened in the last few weeks, it sort of feels like the beginning of the end. I just finished up my third year at BYU, I -literally- sobbed my way to the end of a 4 hour cleaning check, I camped in Moab, several of my friends graduated, I drove across the country...But, as I keep reminding myself, its really just the end of the beginning.
 |
| Camping in Moab |
 |
| Landscape Arch |
See college, life, everything just seems to be picking up pace lately. I accepted a TA job for next year, I'm going to Africa in a month, I received the worst grades I've ever gotten this past semester and I don't hate myself. Eh? Eh?
I'm proud of where I've gotten but I also know that I can't be stagnant. Or do I? I've moved from one set of arches to another. When I turned a bend in the highway and saw the St. Louis skyline, a glimpse of THE arch in the distance, I couldn't help but smile. This is home.
 |
And since I got home, I've kind of just been living it up. Sleeping in till noon, reading for hours, watching tv, playing with my nephews... Even when I try to exert some will power, its just impossible. 12 cookies in one day? Check. 500 page book read within 6 hours? Check. All existing episodes of Korra watched in one sitting? Check. Appointment with the pediatrician? You had better believe it. When "watch Hugo" becomes a task on your to do list that you would actually feel good about crossing off just because it was part of the plan, you know you're in a pretty sweet spot in life.
But its not going to last. This is sort of the calm before the storm. I'm going to Africa.
A.F.R.I.C.A.
And I don't feel at all prepared. So I need to prepare. Obviously. I think I'm still just sort of absorbing the last year. I've been on the move a lot. When I glance behind me over the last 12 months, I see that I've hit up a lot of places: North Carolina, Paris, Cambridge, London, Edinburough, Devonshire, Amsterdam, Provo, Rochester, Salt Lake City, Goblin Valley, Moab, St. Louis... When I stare in front of me I see Uganda, Rwanda, Holland...
I have friends who travel as a way of life. Who move all the time. And I want to get to that point. But as a West Country, St. Louis girl I'm a little overwhelmed. So, I can't really get myself to feel too bad about living the simple life here for a couple weeks.
Really, I'm just hanging out under an arch for a moment before I pass through it. And that's perfectly acceptable.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)