Oh, Life...

Sometimes life just throws in those ironic little twists that I can't help but laugh. Tonight brought one of those twists.

I'm not too sure how common this knowledge is, so I'll just throw it out there: Over the past few years, I've struggled, and struggled deeply, with my testimony. The hows and the whys are too complex to bother typing out here, but up until my last few months in Oregon, I hadn't been to church regularly in over two years. And to apply the term "regularly" to my current level attendance would be a VERY liberal interpretation of the term. For the past year or so, however, I've definitely been doing a lot more thinking, pondering, and attending. The one glaring omission from that list above, obviously, is prayer. For many, many reasons, this is the most difficult thing for me to do.

Tonight I was in my kitchen making orzo and watching MTV's "16 and Pregnant" (yeah, I love trashy reality TV shows. That's a moral failing for another post) when there was a knock on the door and who should appear: the missionaries and a brother from the ward.

Fast forward two and a half hours, and they're leaving me after one gut-wrenching conversation having extracted a major, major promise from me: to vocally pray this evening. Once I give my word to someone I cannot go back on it. Trust and promises are a big thing for me. Even before they left though I was feeling stressed about the prospect of praying. I can't explain it, but I was filled with so many conflicting emotions I felt like I was being torn apart, literally. The only place I could think of to go was the temple. So I did.

By the time I got to the temple it was dark out and the gates around the ground were locked. I started wandering around the back of the temple, looking for a place to pray. But it was dark. And the grass was wet. And I was hungry because I never got around to eating the orzo. And I still hadn't showered after returning from a camping trip earlier in the evening so I was beyond gross. And... I was on my umpteenth mental excuse when I found myself face first on the ground, with that wet grass sticking to my greasy hair and my growling stomach left somewhere in the air above my head after my sudden bodily descent.

Yes, brothers and sisters, it is true: pride goeth before the fall. And in my case, my pride has reached such heights of grandeur that the Lord has seen fit to lower me. Literally. By placing holes (deep holes! More like trenches! or ditches!) in my path. Not paying attention in the dark, I stepped straight into some mid-calf hole. I was half way between laughing and crying when I noticed I had landed directly on my knees, in front of the portion of the temple engraved "Holiness to the Lord, the House of the Lord."

Now did God really plant that hole in my path? Maybe not, but I decided to take advantage of my position and go ahead and pray. The heavens did not part, my doubts were not confounded in one fell swoop, but it definitely stirred a few thoughts and emotions that have been missing. I will not wait so long to do this again. My ankle hurts too much for that.

Blueberry Banana Bread

Last week I found myself with a pile of brown bananas (no central air + high 90s = accelerated decomp of fresh produce on the counter), a flat of blueberries from Costco, and a hankering for an old favorite: banana bread. Since the spring I've really tried to devote myself to healthy eating as I'm getting a prediabetic diagnosis under control. Instead of going for the old standby bread recipe with tons of butter and sugar, I toyed around with some healthier options. And what fantastic results! The basis of the banana bread is Martha Stewart's Blueberry Banana Muffins, and I made a few very small adjustments ( fresh v. frozen fruit, some wheat germ, yogurt with the butter). I highly suggest trying it... I've got a second loaf in the oven right now (I've resorted to turning on the oven only after 10:00PM) to eat for snacks this week and cannot wait for it to come out. I used three bowls to prepare it, so I broke the recipe down into bowls.

Bowl 1: Beat
1/4 c. butter
1/8 c. plain yogurt
1/3 c. granulated sugar
1/3 c. packed brown sugar

After these ingredients are light and fluffy, add in two eggs. Crack the eggs one at a time and beat well after each addition.

Bowl 2: Whisk
1 c. flour, spooned and leveled
3/4 c. whole wheat flour, spooned and leveled
1/4 c. wheat germ
1 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt

Bowl 3: Mash!
2-3 over ripe medium bananas (you'll want about 3/4 c)
1 tsp. vanilla


My kitchen aid mixer is my prized possession, and I got bowl number one spinning and then let the mixer do the work while I worked on bowls 2 and 3. Once the butter and sugar and eggs are good and fluffy, you'll add bowls 2 and 3 to bowl one. Alternate the additions, and begin and end with the flour mixture.

Finally, toss in some blueberries. The original recipe called for 1 c. frozen berries, but I've used fresh berries both times. I also never measure the berries, just toss them until it looks perfectly tasty.

The original recipe is for muffins, but I've had no problems putting the batter in a loaf pan. My oven has a mind of its own, so I just keep an eye on the loaf until I can stick a toothpick in and it comes out clean, about 15-20 minutes for me.

PS: I kept trying to add a picture, but it wouldn't upload for some reason. Hmmmm... help?

The Classics

One of Sean's favorite ways to poke fun at me is to call me an literary snob. We both read "The Kite Runner" from Khaled Hosseini waaaaaay back in undergrad and when it came up at dinner one night I said something to the effect of its foreshadowing crossed the lines from hinting to clobbering, and that the ironic twists were no longer tantalizing but gut-wrenching. I'm not one to mince words. I finished the tirade by stating it had clearly been written for the masses. He's followed that up by never letting me live my "nose in the air" moment down. Ah, well...

So imagine his shock and surprise that I, for one, LOVE the Twilight series. Talk about written for the masses, and not just any masses, but the 13-17 year old masses. I know I've mentioned its downfalls before, but I can't help it... they just suck me in. I own all four books, have read them each several times now, have already seen Eclipse. Twice. (A few of my students work at the local movie theater and one young man took my ticket at both showings. His response: "Seriously, Shoe? You seemed smarter than that.") I've downloaded all three soundtracks. I'm mostly team Jacob-- and I am SO thankful Taylor Lautner is finally 18 so I feel a little less like a pedophile as I ogle him.

All of my Twilight-lovin' aside, however, I had a disturbing thought yesterday:

Jane Austen is often touted as THE author of the 19th century, as a beacon for the advent of the woman writer. After all, she wrote under her own name in a time when women were best seen but not heard (or read). But when Jane Austen was writing, she was perhaps the Danielle Steele of her era. Ok... that's a bit harsh... maybe the Jodi Piccoult of her time. A fantastic author, yes, but again-- no contender for the Booker here. She entertains us. That's why we remember her now.

But what about William Shakespeare? The Bard of Avon. The hero of hopeless romantics everywhere, the plague of high school English students. We collectively revere him now as the best playwright of all time, but hunt through that iambic pentameter and 16th century English, and you've got smut! Attending The Globe was the equivalent of turning on a sitcom. He wrote to please the masses, literally. The nobility in the box seats, the peasants in the penny pit, he had to entertain them all. And entertain them he did. This is why we remember him now.

Here's where I'm going with this-- what if in another century or two, generations of teenagers and college students pour over the Twilight series. They'll complete a literary analysis of biblical allusions (particularly from the LDS standing, these continually surprise me); pull apart the tenuous ties holding Bella to both Edward and Jacob; and wonder-- what elements of "human" nature transcend all beings? Who do the Volturi, with their power hungry ways, truly satirize? What is the author trying to tell us? "Meyer" will become as common as "Hemingway" or "Byron".

Not to knock ol' Stephenie, but this makes me a little worried. Of course, it won't stop me from re-reading Breaking Dawn by the pool today. Ahhhhhh, summer.

Suggestions??

So, it's been awhile. And yet looking back over the last 3+ months I can't help but think I didn't really miss much that was worth blogging about. My days and weeks are fairly routine with work, and often times I feel like I'm on the wash-rinse-repeat cycle of lesson planning, teaching, grading. Don't get me wrong-- I am loving it. I truly believe that education is the one gift that you can give to any person at any time and regardless of how much or how little they have, it will infinitely enrich their lives. Some days I have to chant that over and over to get to the final bell, but I now found it to be truer than ever.

Reflecting on my own personal education, I realize how incredibly blessed I am to have received a top-notch education. In five years, I was able to earn two BAs and a MA under the guidance of phenomenal professor who shaped me intellectually, mentally, and spiritually. But unfortunately, it's recently come to my attention (now that the routine and wash-rinse-repeat has given me the time to slow down and look around) that each one of those pieces of paper brought with them about 15 pounds that settled right on the hips. Eek.

A few weeks before Christmas, I realized that I had reached the point where I wasn't staying up until midnight grading and planning every night but knew how to balance my time (usually). So instead of spending my usual hour or two blog-stalking or compulsively checking the Facebook news feed I joined the gym near my house and am now working out between 5 and 6 days a week. That number fell by about 50% during the holidays, but now I am back in the swing of things. It amazes me how much I am LOVING working out, and really look forward to getting into the gym. I do need some help though: my workout music selection seems lackluster and I've come dangerously close to flying off the back of the treadmill several times while fiddling with my iPod in an attempt to find something I could groove to for a few miles. So, to all of you (any of you? someone?) out there, can you give me any suggestions for some good work out music??