"Intellectuals are...

unattractive people who wear oversize glasses and baggy clothes and are very boring and who make life dull for truly romantic people who know how to get the most out of life."

-Lorraine Hansberry (does not really believe this), in a list of illusions that stem from the idea that art cannot possibly be "social."

If it makes you feel any better...

Remember that one day in class in which you meant to say "symbolism" and accidentally said "symbology" instead?

My professor said "symbology" in class today. Twice.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Symbology_(disambiguation)

http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/symbology

I hope this makes you feel better. You know who you are...

Epistle to my homeboy

Dear Dr. C.,
Thank you for letting us watch the death scene in Middlemarch instead of fast forwarding through it. Seeing crusty old Mr. Casaubon die in the film adaptation made waiting until page 482 worth it.

Dear Kayla/Krista/K__a from Romanticism class,
Watching you play solitaire hinders my ability to understand accentual syllabic verse in Wordsworth's poetry. You are responsible for my (un)success on that question of the midterm.

Dear Rebecca F.,
Thank you for meeting me for lunch. The chili was as good as I expected, and so was the conversation. I don't think there is necessarily a link between the two, but just in case there is, let's go eat chili again sometime.

Dear student named Rachel,
You made me explain topic sentences for 40 minutes, which I didn't really mind, but you should have just listened harder the first time. Of course I explained it perfectly, so it wasn't me.

Dear universe,
Today you are shifting. In a good way. So thanks for that.

If you're unhappy and you know it, clap your hands

Clap, clap!

Return of Garlic Finger

Tarragon Orange Chicken. 3 garlic cloves. 'Nuff said.

Thought for the day

There was a provoking article in the WSJ earlier this month by Jeffrey Zaslow called "Killing Gossip With Kindness." I think this is something we all need to improve. Here's an excerpt from the article and a few relevant ad campaigns:

"Wendy Fandl sees a lot of children growing up without a lot of guidance. They say harsh and hurtful things about each other, and the words come too easily. Encouraged by the snarkiness in pop culture today, they seem more sarcastic than past generations.

'Kids are struggling,' says Ms. Fandl, who oversees an after-school program at Community Presbyterian Church in Delhi, Calif. 'They're looking for answers.'

Instead of answers, however, Ms. Fandl offers them questions.

She suggests that before they say something to or about someone else, they should ask themselves: 'Is it kind? Is it true? Is it necessary?'

These three questions have been around for centuries, attributed to Socrates and Buddhist teachings, and linked to the tenets of Christianity and the Jewish prohibition on 'lashon hara,' or evil language. But now, in an age of cultural shrillness and unrestrained rumor-mongering on the Internet, these three questions (or variations of them) are finding new adherents. In schools, workplaces, churches, therapy groups—and at kitchen tables—the questions are being used to temper one of the uglier human impulses."

Read the full article at: http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704160504574640111681307026.html


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nWJut7KQhI4

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NbtajOvAU10

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sbKBvrEr2wE

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=amueaVHIZ6A

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bdQBurXQOeQ

Ode to the side ponytail

I am rockin a side ponytail today. I can only do this when I wear heels because then it makes me look sophisticated rather than like I am 12.

Here are the best of the best side ponytails:

Taking advantage of my blog to advertise

I work on a podcast at the Writing Center called Word of Mouth. I didn't even know what a podcast was until a year ago. But now I help produce one. And it's awesome: http://wordofmouth.byu.edu/

If you ask me what my favorite episode is, I will probably say the current show every time. Right now is the Flash Fiction Part II show in which we read the winners from our fiction contest.

Well, I hope if you are reading this, you will go listen to the show. If you have already listened to it, I hope you will join the facebook group. If you have already joined that, I hope you will enter the Love/Hate poetry contest we are having. If you have done all this, I love/hate you; not even I have done all these things.

I didn't even know 10-month-olds could roll their eyes

This is my little niece Taylor having such a great time with me over Christmas break. Wow. Children love me so much.

Christening The Prattler

One reason I haven't had a blog is because I am intimidated by the overwhelming task of picking a decent title for it. If you don't have a great name for a blog, there's not much hope it will be awesome. I tend to think that a blog says a lot about a person, or a lot about the type of things they will blog about; naming a blog isn't just picking out a string of words that sound clever or profound or poetic; it's the christening of a label for yourself, a way to assign some kind of networld identity. So I guess you could say that I didn't know what I wanted my blogger identity to be. As if my real life self isn't hard enough to figure out.

(I tried really hard not to use the word "avatar" in that paragraph because I didn't want anyone to start thinking about computer animated blue-skinned creatures. But now you are thinking it anyway).

After much rumination, I came out with a few options for a blog title:

1. "Brevity Is the Soul of Wit (in 145 characters or less)"
This blog's entries would all be 145 characters or less, which, if you were wondering, is the length of a text message. But alas, I found it difficult to contain my ramblings to such concision.

2. "Raconteur: because life's fiction is more interesting than fact"
A raconteur is a storyteller. But then I realized that people might expect me to be an amazing storyteller if I had this title. Also, I didn't like the alliteration. Rebecca Raconteur.

3. I auditioned some of my favorite words to maybe form a blog around them: enumerate, trepidation, sanguine, quotidian, nuance, and claptrap. But all these words sound a bit... erudite, except in the case of claptrap which sounds like an incurable disease (it's not).

Hmm... I was not quite satisfied. So I tabled the idea of a blog for a while.

Then, on a day much like any other day, I found myself talking longer than people want to listen. It happens, and every time it does, I think of the phrase "prattling away." The word "prattle" is one of my favorite words. It reminds me of a section from Les Miserables when Jean Valjean takes Cosette into his keeping after her mother dies:

"She called him 'father' and knew him by no other name. He spent hours in watching her dress and undress her doll and listening to her prattle. From this moment life appeared to him full of interest; men seemed to him good and just; he no longer reproached anyone in his thoughts, and perceived no reason he should not live to a great age, now that this child loved him."

I love to prattle. If a person is prattling, it seems to suggest a general contentedness in life that there is time and attention for talking about whatever is on their mind, regardless of importance or interest. When a person prattles, it usually means that they are NOT complaining, disclosing, or yelling. It's not serious, but it's not not-serious. It's mundane prattle.

Therefore, I christen thee, blog, THE PRATTLER. May thou live up to thy potential.

They Call Me Garlic Finger

Today is the second day of my last semester at BYU. I currently have 5 English classes, so I need to drop one (or even two if I feel like it).

I wish that I had more time to take all the classes I want.

I also wish that my left index finger would forever smell of fresh garlic like it has since last night when I made lemon garlic shrimp w/ bowtie pasta. The recipe called for 3 chopped cloves of garlic. That delicious garlicky smell stayed with me through all my classes today even though I washed my hands (and yes, I even showered). As my professor went over the syllabus and someone asks if we have to have THAT edition of Persuasion, I smell my finger and think of a large knife cutting repeatedly and cleanly through a small, white clove.

Olsen Twins

Last night I dreamt that I had twin baby sisters named Mary-Kate and Ashley.

Yes, I still love the Olsen twins.