Disney Challenge Days 17 and 18

First off: HAPPY NEW YEAR! Today is New Year's Eve and also the 'One Week 'Til Florida' mark! I leave next Tuesday at 9:30 am and will arrive in Orlando at 7:30 on Tuesday night. I got the email from the people at the DCP to register for my housing and roommates--fingers crossed that all of that works out :) I haven't unpacked TOO much since coming home for Christmas so I'm hoping that packing everything won't be a complete and total nightmare...but we'll see.

I. Am. So. Excited.

But anyways:

Disney Challenge #17: Least Favorite Classic

I have to go with Pinocchio on this one.
For whatever reason, I just have always thought this movie was just...dull. I wish I had more words to justify my standpoint on this one but I really don't. It was just weird to me. He turns into a donkey and then is eaten by a whale. That whale is terrifying to a young child by the way. I don't know why but Pinocchio didn't do it for me.

Disney Challenge #18: Favorite Pixar film

This one is so hard because I feel like Pixar really knocks it out of the park with the majority of their movies. Pixar is really hit-or-miss with me: I absolutely love them, or I'm not a fan. They're definitely not mediocre by anyone's standards.
I have to say my all-time favorite is "The Incredibles".

What's not to love? The family is hilarious. I grew up thinking that my dad basically was Mr Incredible--he was the strongest man in the world. My mother could absolutely be ElastiGirl. I was the living embodiment of Violet throughout middle school and my younger sister would absolutely be Dash. Jack-Jack is so precious.

My sister has the scene between Frozone and his wife memorized. She's not afraid to bust that sucker out whenever the situation calls for it.

Start 2014 out with a laugh...I couldn't resist

I'm still waiting on a sequel to this movie. It totally highlighted the beauty of a nuclear family. There are very few Disney movies that have Mommy and Daddy in the picture. This one shows the chaotic dysfunction of a normal family...but then shows how awesome it can all be if we're all on one team. I love it. Absolutely love it to pieces.

Disney Challenges Days 15 and 16

Disney Challenge Day #15: First Disney Movie I Saw

I had a sneaking suspicion that I knew the answer to this one, but I did my research and verified it with my mother.

The first Disney movie I ever saw was "The Lion King". Coincidentally, it remains to this day my very favorite Disney movie ever.

Now I don't remember going to see this movie, but I've heard many stories from my grandparents and multiple aunts/uncles whom I would request to sit and watch this movie with. As the oldest grandchild on my dad's side of the family, I pretty much had everyone wrapped around my finger so an adorable 2-year-old Sydney was nigh unto impossible to resist. I watched this movie hundreds and hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of time.
Timon and Pumbaa were my favorites. Although, being only 2 years old I couldn't quite pronounce the 'Ti' in 'Ti-mon' so his name was simply 'Mon'.

My favorite part was when Simba and Nala were wrestling outside of the elephant graveyard. Nala pins him down and triumphantly announces, "Pinned ya!"
 Simba, being the prideful male, tries to pounce on her again and Nala beats him once again.
"Pinned ya again!"
I have gazillions of stories from my dear ol' Uncle Dave telling me that I'd 'pin' him down and gleefully announce in my adorable toddler voice "Pinned ya again" in my best Nala-impression.

Disney Challenge Days 13 and 14

Disney Challenge Day #13: Least Favorite Song

 "So This is Love" from Cinderella.

Gag me.

I don't know why I dislike this song so much...but I do. I really do. I love Cinderella because she's a classic and because she's a quintessential part of every little girl's childhood. But as far as quality character development and plotline...eh not so much.
She has her strengths, don't get me wrong. There are dozens of good things that I could say about Cinderella. I'm just too big of a story-loving nerd to appreciate the love story aspect. As far as being long-suffering, humble, incredibly compassionate, and forgiving: Cinderella takes the cake. But the whole 'one dance with your soulmate will make you fall head over heels in love' aspect....too much for me. 'One pair of shoes can change your life'. False. I don't buy into it.

Let the hate reign. Maybe I'm heartless and bitter. Entirely possible. But Cinderella and the song "So This Is Love" doesn't do it for me.

Disney Challenge Days 11 and 12

 

Disney Challenge Day #11: Favorite Love Song

"We're not saying you can change him,
'Cuz people don't really change.
We only say that love's a force
That's powerful and strange.
People make bad choices when they're
Mad or scared or stressed.
But throw a little love their way
And you'll bring out their best!"

And that my friends, is wisdom. Plain simple truth stated in a song sung by trolls. Therein lies the magic of Disney.

The song "Fixer Upper" from the new movie Frozen takes the cake for my favorite love song simply because it's true. No unrealistic expectations here. No 'smoke and mirrors' effect where someone tries to hide their flaws from their love interest. No deception. Just brutal honesty from his 'family' because they want to see him end up with someone who accepts and loves these flaws of his.
What more could you ask for?

I say yet again: if you haven't gone to see 'Frozen'...just go see it already. It's wonderful.

Disney Challenge Days 9 and 10

Day #9: Favorite Original Character

At first glance, I thought today's category was a bit redundant. Favorite original character? Seriously? I mean, I already answered who my favorite character was! What. The. Heck. But then I stopped to think about it:

Technically Simba isn't a truly original character. Diehard 'Lion King' fans know there's pretty strong evidence that not only is he an animated children's version of Hamlet, but he also is probably based off another cartoon lion ('white lion' something or the other...I should remember this...but I don't).

And by that logic, neither are Belle or Aladdin. Both are based off of stories written hundreds of years ago that have been passed down orally that Disney took the basic plotline and added some of his own magic to them. Not that I'm complaining. I'm not. At all. Why reinvent the wheel? Good storylines are out there. Use them to your full advantage. Some people may call this plagiarizing, but I don't. Disney never takes full credit for inventing this characters on his own. Credit is given where credit is deserved.

So who is my favorite original Disney character?
The first that comes to mind is the adorably lovable Vanellope von Schweetz from the movie 'Wreck-it Ralph'. I fully admit: I have no researched this at ALL so it's very possible that it isn't really all that unique...in which case, I claim Pluto as my favorite.

During my first few semesters at school, I realized that living in a small-town is drastically different than living in my hometown of 2-million + people. One of the foremost ways that I noticed is that I felt completely and totally cut-off from the outside world. We're all college kids. We didn't have a TV and I wasn't in the habit of reading CNN online or anything. I didn't see any newspapers besides our on-campus paper. Current events were non-existent in my world unless they showed up on my Facebook newsfeed. Yes I know, I'm pathetic.

So when 'Wreck-it Ralph' came out, I hadn't even heard of it, let alone see any trailers of it. I remember when it hit Redbox because people were complaining that every single Redbox in town was out of this DVD and it was so dang cute and you just had to see it ASAP. Seriously people: new Disney movies and Mormon college kids. It's a goldmine. 

"It's about this video game and the guy is a villain and it's SO cute!"

That's the extent of the reviews I heard from my peers and honestly, it didn't pique my interest in the slightest. I'm not a video gamer. Never have been. I got decently good at playing 'Monkey Ball' on our GameCube because the controls were incredibly simplistic but to this day I'm notoriously terrible at playing even 'MarioKart'. I cannot for the life of me figure out how to stay on the road and I'm incredibly slow. My competitive juices get the better of me and I forget how awful I am at playing, so I'll get stuck playing with my cousins for hours...but I never win. Ever. So a Disney movie about a video game character sounded like a snoozefest.

Spring Break 2013 was spent in St. George, Utah at a condo we rented out for the week with my immediate family and my mom's cousin's family. My youngest sister is a freshman in high school, and the oldest daughter of this other family is in third grade. So there was quite a big age difference. We spent the day playing with their kids and loving it and swimming and all that jazz, and my family would stay up WAYYYYYY too late watching season 3 of Downton Abbey (ohmyheart. Sybil. Heartbreak central). But this family introduced us to 'Wreck-it Ralph'. We probably watched it at least 8 or 9 times that trip.
I fell in love. Total and complete love with Vanellope. She was cute and small and feisty as heck. She didn't take crap from others players. She was competitive and fierce, but also kind of vulnerable because other people looked at her as a glitch. She was the full package for me. I'm really really hoping I get the chance to meet her in Disney. I really hope so.

I'll be honest: I have no idea how Wreck-it Ralph ends. The DVD we watched was scratched so as far as I know, Vanellope orders that everyone who was ever mean to her shall be executed...and that's where it ends. I assume that characters are not executed...but you know what, I'd be totally alright with it if they are. You go Vanellope! Go girl go! :)

Just in case diehard Disney fanatics oppose me and claim t hat Vanellope doesn't fit the bill of an original character, I'm going to choose Pluto as my runner-up.
Growing up, I never had a dog but Pluto made dog ownership seem heavenly. He was so loyal and so loving and downright hilarious. We went to Disneyland a couple of times as a kid and one of my few memories involves waiting in a ridiculously long line because I wanted to meet Pluto. I remember that for whatever reason, I never ended up meeting him that day. Whether Pluto had to go home to his doghouse for the night or because my parents were pooped out and didn't want to wait anymore...I have no idea.

I had a Disney Sing-A-Long video on VHS that I watched religiously when I was kid. We had one that focused on Disneyland park in Anaheim, and the cover of that was blue. And we had one that was green that showcased Disney Animal Kingdom. Watching that blue VHS tape, there's a part at the very very end when they're singing their last song ("When You Wish Upon a Star"), Pluto goes in and licks the cheek of one of the little girls. And it has been my wish for the LONGEST time that Pluto would lick my cheek like that. I met him last Thanksgiving (Thanksgiving 2012) and sadly his costume has changed so he's no longer physically able to lick children's cheeks. Heartbreak is real, my friends. I want my cheek to be licked by Pluto :(

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GUhL947dLuA
^^So I've included the link to the song I'm talking about. Pluto licks the girl right at like 1:14 so fast forward and let your heart melt. Add another thing to your Disney bucket list.

Disney Challenge Day 7 and 8

Sidekicks and Villains

Day #7: Favorite Sidekick

So many choices. So many classics. So much comic relief. Nearly impossible to narrow it down. So now it's a tie:

Choice #1: Tantor from Tarzan.
He's big. He's red. He's supportive...but he's just so anxious and comical that you can't help but just want to snuggle him. What other child is aware of piranhas and bacteria in the water? He's incredibly intelligent and his little child voice is just too darn cute for me to handle. Terk was a bit too obnoxious for me to fully love, but Tantor was perfection.


Choice #2: Grumpy from Snow White

Maybe it's because my family insists that I'm Grumpy and therefore buys me all Grumpy merchandise, but I think he's fantastic! He's determined to have a bad time regardless of anything that happens to him. Snow tries her very best to get him to soften and be happier, but he is so gosh darn stubborn.

I have a canvas bag with Grumpy on it that, I discovered last summer, was the perfect size to take to the river when I went swimming after classes (woot woot college life!). It fit my water bottle, towel, sunscreen, and assorted snacks without becoming too big and bulky. There was one week last spring where we went swimming 5 days in a row. When there's no AC and you're stuck in rural Idaho with minimal amounts of homework, you go swimming a lot.

But anyways, there was one day that I was hastily packing my things and I turned to my roommate frantically: "Hey have you seen my Grumpy bag?"

My dear guyfriend (name withheld to protect his dignity) was sitting right there and got the strangest look on his face,  "Ohhhhhhhhhhh, I get it. Say no more, Syd. I understand".

My roommate and I exchanged looks. We weren't talking in code (though to be fair, we spoke in code quite frequently around him) and had no idea what he was talking about.

"Well...you know... your grumpy bag. Don't worry, I have sisters. I get it. Your monthly circumstances come with being a girl. Don't feel embarrassed," he said, giving me a hug in some weird attempt so I wouldn't feel awkward.

At this point, I busted into laughter and had to explain that my bag literally just had Grumpy the dwarf on it and was not my secret codename for a bag that stored my tampons. He was blushing pretty hardcore every time we brought it up for the rest of the day.

Mission #3: Final Wrap-Up (Christmas 2013 part 3)

Mission #3: Final Wrap-Up

Wednesday December 25, 2013
6:15 pm


First off, if you're still reading this...kudos to you. You're a patient soul.

Christmas dinner was wrapping up. Ham was delightful. Funeral potatoes are always a delight. Red Hot Jello will always be a favorite of mine. Life was good. We had four Mormon missionaries from our local ward (aka congregation) over for dinner: a pair of elders and a pair of sisters. The conversation had been lovely and the company was oh so grand.

Checking my phone, I had the final voicemail from the mysterious unknown number. I put in on speaker phone so everyone at the table could hear and participate.

The regular cast of characters were back: Mountaineer, Freelancer, Phoenix, Oracle, and Raptor. But we had some new friends joining us for the ride! The missionaries were given code names as well in order to protect their identity (because, you know, the badges on their chest weren't going to give anything away): Alma and Amulek, as well as Sariah and Abish.

The first clue was left on the windshield of Freelancer's car. The instructions were simple: go Christmas carol to each of the houses we had visited earlier in the day.

So we did!

Hats off to the kind and patient souls of the S, J, N, and P families who allowed us to interrupt their Christmas festivities not just once--but twice. That's a whole lot of love.

Thankfully we had the missionaries with us so we could truly tap into that righteous power as we went to sing. Our family can be described many ways with many choice words but "good singers" are not really accurate descriptors. We got really good at singing the first verse of "Joy to the World" (spoiler alert to those families involved: yes, we sang that song at every single house). And it honestly was the nicest way to wrap up Christmas. At least for me :)

I've grown up with these families. Coming home from college is as much about seeing these people as it is about seeing my own immediate family. It takes a village to raise a child...and holy cow I definitely needed a village. I could go into specifics on how each of these families and each of these people have touched my life...but they know who they are. They know (or at least SHOULD know) how much they've meant to me. You're all fantastic and I love each of you to pieces. Thanks for allowing us to come be totally goofy today :)

At each house, these kind people patiently gave us yet another clue: each containing one word to spell out a final message. Piecing it altogether, we obediently followed the instructions to go sing to the G-family.

As much as I had been enjoying these secret missions, it required us to be pretty much constantly on the go all day. Which was fun. It made the presents portion of our Christmas stretch for a good solid 10 hours--which is pretty impressive when the youngest in the family is 14. But it was also kind of tiring. There was no vegging in pj's all day and picking at leftover monkey bread. It was go-go-go-go-go all day. So by the time the third mission rolled around and we'd already gotten two batches of pretty huge gifts, I was telling Mom in the car: "If we get to the end of this and it's like 'Merry Christmas your gift at the end of this mission is the gift of Christmas cheer!' I'm going to be upset!"

I sound like a Grinch. I know. I said it to Mom like 5 times though.

Lo and behold, what does the family clue from the G-family say: "Your gift is FAMILY because families are eternal!"

We all groaned and rolled our eyes and I gave my Mom a hard time about it while we walked back home.

Getting home, there were envelopes with each of our names on it. We got Disney giftcards for us to spend when my family comes to visit me in Florida in April. Merry Christmas to me :) I'll get to wrap up four months of living at Disney World (I'm so excited. So so so so SO excited. Can you tell!?) by my family coming to visit me and we'll party it up down in Florida. I think that'll be really neat.

So...if you're reading down here at the bottom than you are really dedicated or, and the more likely option, incredibly bored. Kudos to you for reading four posts about how Christmas went at our house this year. You're a trooper.

This is the spot where I should make some profound statement about how none of today really matters because at the end of the day, it's all about Christ and what He did for us. And that's true. That's what today is really all about. But, as it was so nicely put on Sunday, if we're living our lives with Christ as the focus...that's what every day should be about.

I have not a clue as to how spending Christmas day being a secret agent with my sisters has some big profound, life-altering, metaphorical meaning. I don't. Not a clue. Maybe tomorrow inspiration will strike and I can come in here and tie this up with a nice clean ending. But hey, it's 12:30 in the morning. It's the 26th now. Christmas 2013 is officially over. A lot has happened in 2013. I've been incredibly lucky and it's taken 20 full years for death to finally be a real scary personal force in my life. I lost people in my family that I was close to...and others that I wasn't as close to. Maybe there isn't some profound spiritual message this year so much as just a really awesome memory that I'm always going to hold onto. Because if nothing else, I got to witness my baby sister kiss a boy on the cheek today and watch her turn a shade that would put even Rudolph's nose to shame. That was pretty darn cool. There are going to be years that I'm not going to get to spend Christmas with my family because I'm busy with my own family (fingers crossed knock on wood).

Dad asked me this year what family traditions were important to keep around this year. I mentioned that the scavenger hunts we did as a kid were always super fun. I don't remember the presents we got or what the clues said or even where we had to look. My memories just involved us running around our house like complete psychos as we tried to find the next clue. We did that this year. Just on a much larger scale using cars and latitude/longitude coordinates and mistletoe and Norwegian.

Growing up, I loved riding in the car with my Aunt Cheryl but she never had any good music that would please a kid. Except for one tape. She had a Sesame Street Christmas tape that I loved and we would listen to it in the middle of the summer when we were going to the Monterey Bay Aquarium or to the beach or on whatever aunty-Sydney adventure she had planned for us. To this day, I can't hear the "Twelve Days of Christmas" being played without hearing the different Sesame Street voices singing all of the parts. It's my favorite version of that song. But anyways, there was a song on that tape that I haven't been able to find anywhere else and even as a kid I remember listening to it and realizing that there was some real profound truth in it.

So. Even though I'm not capable of a clean concise 'concluding paragraph' that would satisfy my high school English teachers, hopefully including this song will get me off of the hook.

Keep Christmas with you :) I'll post the URL in case the video isn't working.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uiPI5c1KPx4
Merry Christmas!

Mission #2: Project Fermosa

Mission #2: Project Fermosa

Wednesday December 25, 2013
2:30 pm

IMF was kind enough not only to give us advance warning that it would be prudent for us to be showered/dressed/put together for the day, but also to give us advance warning to do so. Secret agents or not, we're still three teenage(ish) girls sharing a bathroom so we took our sweet time getting ready.

Another unknown call. Another voicemail.

This time, our first bit of intel was taped to our mailbox. The mission was to involve the same team as before: Mountaineer, Freelancer, and Phoenix with logistics/transportation by Oracle and communications by Raptor. This mission was to be set with the premise that we are contestants on the 'Amazing Race'. In order to achieve the next clue, we would have to complete some sort of obstacle at each checkpoint. Finding the first clue behind a utility box down the street, we discovered that we were going to go visit some family friends. So off to the S-Family we went (Name withheld for the safety of the families involved with this secret mission).

The S-Family presented us with two different options. The options were very cleverly named but I cannot remember what those names were...but I know we picked option one! As the two options were uncovered, we discovered that this first challenge was an eating challenge. Option two required us to each eat two very long very stale gummy worms. Phoenix and I wolfed them down without a problem. Freelancer...struggled. Phoenix and I were grateful for the option we had chosen because the alternative choice would have left us each chugging an ENORMOUS glass of milk...and the two of us are not big milk-drinkers.

Our next stop was the J-Family. This family informed us that the title of the challenges taking place in their home were Mistletoe-themed. Freelancer, feeling like option one hadn't served us very well the last time, decided we should choose option two. Option one would have required each secret agent to stand at least 10 feet away and shoot her sister in the foot with a Nerf gun (get it? Missile. Toe. Mistletoe. Bahahahahaha). Yet unfortunately...that is not the option Freelancer stuck us with.

Instead, we were told that we each had to kiss every eligible bachelor in the room.

Blushing. Cue lots and lots and lots of blushing.

Now thankfully, there were only two of these eligible bachelors to be found. And they both were gentlemanly. Though I will say, Mr A. J-Family leapt to his feet pretty dang quick after hearing this challenge read aloud ;) I won't reveal his identity but I've known him for a while. A long while. Like...back in the days of Joy School a long while. He and his brother Mr M. J-Family were good sports and were each kissed on the cheek by the three of us.

Let's be real right now *to be read in a very airy high princess-like voice*: at that point, this mission was no longer about the reward. It was reward in and of itself to just have the chance to kiss the cheek of such fine men.

Ahem. Anyyyyyways ;)

Phoenix was still blushing furiously when we got the N-Family. This family required that at least two sisters do a song/dance routine to the song of their choice from the new Disney movie 'Frozen'. I opted out, but Phoenix and Freelancer rocked it with a charming duet of 'Do You Want to Build A Snowman'.

The P-Family was our last stop for this adventure. We had two choices at this stop: Popcorn or Wiseman. Phoenix went with Popcorn (coincidentally, her guilty pleasure of choice) and we were told that we had to sing the beloved LDS Primary classic "Popcorn Popping on the Apricot Tree" with full finger movements and everything. The P-Family patriarch reserved the right to make us sing it multiple times if he didn't feel that we were singing loudly and enthusiastically enough. Suffice it to say, we sang that song a total of three times out in the middle of their yard. A woman on a bicycle was even flagged down to stop and listen to our performance. No, we had never seen this woman before. But she had very high praise for our singing capabilities.

All that said and done, we returned home where we had recovered intel leading us to yet another hidden Christmas present.
Phoenix got a new phone. Freelancer got a 'new' camera (the same one that she'd lost at Girl's Camp but was found just before Christmas) and I got a new digital camera to take to Florida with me woot woot!

If you're still reading this and actually give a hoot as to how the whole saga wrapped up, there's another blog post for that! Keep reading! :)

Mission #1: Project Whetstone (Christmast 2013 part 1)

Mission #1: Project Whetstone

 Wednesday December 25, 2013.
10:15 am.

A garbage bag stuffed with discarded and shredded wrapping paper lay in the middle of the empty living room floor. The television held images of a dancing fire burning brightly in someone else's fireplace while Christmas music played. Each of us were still pajama-clad and sitting around the dining room table feasting on traditional Christmas morning breakfast: monkey bread and cocoa moo (aka chocolate milk). Knowing that we were awaiting a call that would relay details of the initiation process into IMF, my phone was sitting next to me at the table.

My phone rang.

A call from an unknown number.

Father questioned my choice of Fantasmic music as my ringtone but hey, I love it. Don't judge me.

This blogpost would be WAYYYYYY too long if I typed out every single cryptic message we received, so I'll summarize:

All three secret-agents-to-be would receive codenames. I, Mountaineer, was the team leader. Freelancer and Phoenix were my teammates. Oracle (Mother) was in charge of logistics and transportation. Raptor (Father) was in charge of communication between the team and Headquarters. There were three missions that would take place over the course of the day. Mission one was focused on retrieving a thumbdrive containing project 'Whetstone' that had critical information contained on it. Civilians were NOT to know of our mission and in the case that we were captured or killed, the Secretary would disavow all knowledge of our information.

Each of us (Mountaineer, Freelancer, and Phoenix) were texted identical set of longitude and latitude coordinates. With the magic of GoogleMaps, we were able to discover the location where Raptor had scheduled intel to be dropped. Discretion being key for the safety of any civilian eyes who might be reading this report...intel was found in the designated location (under a bench at a bus stop).

This started us on a hunt that last for about an hour as we traveled across the city following these different clues. Tasks included wishing a family 'Merry Christmas' in Norwegian (please note: GoogleTranslate makes the pronunciation much more difficult than it actually is), traveling to the classroom where Freelancer attends early morning seminary five days a week, and locating a handicapped parking sign at a local park.

It was at this point, we were giving coordinates to a safehouse where the thumbdrive containing Project Whetstone was hidden. As we received text messages from an unknown individual that I began referring to as 'Q' (Seriously people, the humor is much better if you've seen James Bond movies and/or the tv series 'Alias'), we were warned that hostiles were in the area of this safehouse and they might fire at us with super soakers. Having a twenty minute drive between our current location and this safehouse, I texted Q to ask him how many hostiles our intel suggested were in the area. We were told that the information was unknown at this time. I asked again, asking for just an estimate so the three completely unarmed still-basically-in-pajamas agents could have some idea of what to expect.

Q responded thusly: "Cannot say as this is a party line. Comms being monitored. This line is being cut. Good luck IMF. This message will now self-destruct".

I sent one final text message in response, informing Q that he had been fired. (To this day, the three agents do not know the formal identity of the agent referred to as 'Q'. We would like to take this opportunity to commend him for his impressive improvisational skills and wish him a Merry Christmas).

To say that we were paranoid to approach this random house in the middle of suburbia California was an understatement. I stood watch, looking frantically up and down the street for the first sign of hostiles armed with super soakers, while Phoenix and Freelancer went to work looking for the thumbdrive. We found an odd duct-tape-wrapped object about the size of a thumbdrive and unwrapped to discover that it was, indeed, the necessary object. (No, there were no super soakers involved. Yes, we were all a little disappointed).

Returning home, we plugged the thumbdrive in to see a message informing us that Project Whetstone had been safely recovered and the Secretary had left a Christmas present out by our recycling bin.

I would gladly tell you what that present was....but if I told you, then I'd have to kill you ;)

END OF MISSION ONE. 

Confession: I was too lazy to write all 3 missions up in 1 big long post. The other missions have been written about, just in two different posts on this same blog. They're pretty easy to find and not cleverly named so there shouldn't be too much confusion.

Disney Challenge Day 5 and 6

Heroes and Animals

Day #5: Favorite Hero

I have to say, Hercules is the man. He's the epitome of an underdog: small and scrawny, not well liked, constantly in trouble, and not a whole lot of self-esteem. The storyline is beautiful. It's not about loving yourself for who you are, but discovering how you can better the world and become the person that you want to be. The Hercules of ancient mythology isn't a very kind and uplifting individual (murders his wife and family blah blah blah) so I absolutely love the Disney spin that was put onto this character.




Not to mention that the song "Go the Distance" is the ultimate Disney jam. I got to play it in a piano recital in either my junior or senior year of high school and absolutely fell in love with it. Coincidentally, I was also reading the 'Percy Jackson' series at that moment in time so it was a Greek mythology overload. Can we just fall in love with the beauty of the soundtrack from the entire movie? I mean, the Muses are fantastic. If they could provide the backup music for my life, that'd be swell. "I Can't Say I'm In Love" is possibly the ultimate love song. It describes my feelings of love and romance in a way that no Taylor Swift song could ever possibly come close to doing so.


Herc is great but the minor characters are fantastic as well: Meg is the best romantic interest ever, Phil is hilarious, and Hades is a great villain. I'd be a little bitter too if my grand old brother exiled me to take care of dead people for eternity. Can't say that I blame him too much for trying to upset the balance of the universe and overthrow Olympus. I don't necessarily agree with him for putting everyone in shackles and having the Titans kind of destroy the earth....but I can empathize with him.

Sorry, I found this hilarious

I'm all about romances that lead to some bit of sacrifice and make you a better person in the end. Hercules and Meg definitely fit that definition. She shoves her suddenly-weak-demigod-boyfriend out of the way and allows herself to be crushed by a stone pillar that was toppled over by a Titan out to kill the previously mentioned boyfriend. That does NOT sound like a pleasant way to go, but it was an incredible act of selflessness. Then there's Herc who willingly swims through a sea of dead souls (Ewwwwww. Ew ew ew. EWWW!) to reclaim Meg's soul. That's some major commitment.

Last but not least, he gives up the chance to be a full-fledged god and live with his family and his peers on Mount Olympus with intense cosmic power...to be a mortal on earth with Meg. He doesn't even put it up for debate. As soon as realizes that Meg can't be with him on Olympus, he's like "Ooh sorry Dad! I'm out!" Even Arwen in LOTR had some sort of internal debate spanning 3 movies about giving up eternal youth to be with her man. Way to go Hercules! You go Herc!

Call Me Sydney Bristow: I've Been Recruited! (a Christmas Eve tale)

Disclaimer: I solemnly swear that the following events are being truthfully and accurately reported as they happened at the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black on the 24th of December in the year 2013. Also, if you do not understand the reference made in the title of this post please find a Netflix account and watch the television series 'Alias' ASAP. It is critical for your joy that you do so.

'Twas a typical Christmas Eve scene.

It was mid-afternoon. I was reclined on the couch, blanket on my lap, puppy dog lying on my feet, and laptop propped open on my lap. The Christmas tree was sparkling. I had finished up my wrapping earlier in the day and all of my presents were gleefully hidden underneath our tree. Mom was in the kitchen making her annual cinnamon sugar pecans so the house smelled lovely. All was well.

Feeling like I should get up and grab an ice pack for my neck since whiplash is a doozy (or, more realistically, holler at mom to bring one to where I was lounging), I stretched and prepared to tell the sleeping dog to get up off of me.

Then suddenly: my cell phone rang.

An unknown number was calling my phone.

Instinct told me to just ignore it. Probably just my sister trying to prank call me. Again. Oooh wait. No. No it's no a sister. I'm home and I can monitor their movements. Neither one of them are on the phone right now.

I was intrigued (and bored) so I answered the phone.

"An important message for Miss Black" a deep mysterious voice was on the other end of the phone 

Cue the Mission Impossible theme music.

No, seriously. The music started playing through the phone. I've included a link for your own listening pleasure so you can get a sense of what I was experiencing ;)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3snywZWT6WE

"Due to your driving skill and your high intelligence, you have been selected for special agent training with I.M. Force--the I.M.F.  Your cover story is that you are preparing to work as an intern at Disney World. Your objective today involves three critical missions that you must complete successfully. 

Your first mission will test your knowledge of spycraft and your ability to think on your feet. The second mission will test your social interactions and the ease with which you can move about our society. This will require you and your team to be polished, refined, and presentable. The third mission involves your ability to recruit others to this agency and how well you can lead a team in solving the puzzle."

That was it. There was a beep and the message was over. I half-expected to hear a voice warn me that my phone was going to self-destruct at the conclusion of this message (c'mon, I've seen The Incredibles).

My dad recommended that the next time I get a call from an unknown number, I let it go to voicemail so the message can be saved and heard by a large group as many times as needed. Thankfully, this IMF recruiter called me again and left a voicemail with the same message. I was feeling highly unique and privileged to be recruited for such a top-secret mission....

...and then my two younger sisters got calls from the unknown number :(

I got over my disappointment of not being The Chosen One, and realized this was probably IMF recruiting the team that they spoke of. A team of sisters? Uhhh AWESOME.

"Kelsey! Don't answer the phone! Let it go to voicemail!" I screeched.

She answered the phone. *Facepalm*. She literally had just one job and she couldn't even do that. Sigh. It was going to be interesting with her on my team if she couldn't even let a phone call go to voicemail (teehee love you Kelsey). Britney's phone call was soon to follow and hers went to voicemail.

We each received the same message, but with no further instruction. We anticipate further instructions will arrive tomorrow (Christmas day).

Update: An envelope was taped to the front door from the IMF with a formal written transcript of the messages that we were each left. It will be interesting to see what the future holds. 

TO BE CONTINUED....

 

Disney Challenge Day 3 and 4

Heroines and Princes

Day #3: Favorite Heroine 

Maybe I'm cheating a little bit on this one, but I maintain that it's still fair. While Anna from 'Frozen' is my favorite Disney character, I have to say that Belle from 'Beauty and the Beast' is my favorite heroine. Technically, Belle isn't a princess throughout like 99% of her movie and therefore she's more of a heroine than a princess.

I feel like there's very little that needs to be said about this topic. She really is the best. She's well-read, open-minded, loyal to her family, and--above all--she's not desperate! We don't really know much about Cinderella's dating life, but I'm going to go out on a limb and suspect that she didn't really have much time to go out on many dates after working all day. She fell head over heels with literally the very first guy she danced with and knew nothing about him other than that he's charming.

Belle had Gaston wrapped around her finger. He was the most popular boy in school (or in their case, the most popular guy in their poor provincial town) and he was nuts for her. He wanted her to marry him and bear him lots of little babies. And for every other female in that town, that seemed like the ideal life. But Belle was not only wise enough to see that Gaston wasn't exactly the kindest fellow, she also had enough self-respect to turn him down. She wasn't so desperate for love and affection that she settled for the first bozo that came knocking. Not only that, but she was incredibly polite in her rejection of Gaston. Belle is just a classy lady.

In my limited-yet-often-awkward-and-humorous dating encounters, I know that it can be difficult to distinguish between attention/affection and actually having true feelings for someone. Kudos for Belle for being able to not only tell the difference, but being brave enough to act on it. While she had a severe case of wanderlust, she realized that her chances of leaving the town were slim and her chances of finding a suitable man were even more slim. Gaston was potentially the only marriage offer that she was going to get. She chose to live the single life rather than settle for a man that she didn't love. Coming from living in a Mormon college town where it's pretty taboo to not find yourself a man and get hitched at a young age, Belle is pretty much a rockstar in my humble opinion.

That's even before you get into any of the awesomeness that occurs as she encourages her dad to follow his dreams despite how badly his mere existence embarrasses her with the cool kids in town. Or how she immediately jumps on a horse to head off into scary wolf-infested woods when her dad goes missing. Not to mention how perfectly selfless she is when she doesn't even hesitate to take her father's place in jail for the rest of her life. Then we get into how she sees all of the Beast's flaws and insecurities and character defects and his terrifying physical appearance, and still falls in love with him anyways.

Please, find me a better Disney heroine. Belle is the cream of the crop.

Disney Challenge: Days 1 and 2

 

Finals are over. The apartment is cleaned and moved out of. I have evacuated out of the cold frozen potato-infested region. I survived one heck of a car accident (goodbye Phyllis the Toyota Camry! I have never had a noble steed to call my own, but I do believe you were the noblest of the noble as far as car/steeds go!). My 15 hour road-trip morphed into a 30+ hour road-trip due to the complications that come with totaling a vehicle in the middle of nowhere.

But all is well! I am home at last in the Golden State where you can step outside in a tee-shirt and not catch hypothermia. As much as I love that quaint little college town, I do not miss my nosehairs freezing when I'm outside. Life is beautiful. There's nothing before me now except for four months of pure magical bliss. Yes, Christmas is going to be wonderful. This is my favorite time of the year for all of those happy warm fuzzy reasons. But for me, the joyous feelings aren't going to stop and I can postpone the entrance back to the real world for a little bit longer.

Why, you might ask?

Because I'm going to go live and work at Walt Disney World for four months. I'm under no illusions: I'm hired because college kids are totally cheap labor and yes, my pay is going to be less than it would be if I had a minimum wage job here in my hometown. I'm totally aware of it. But on my days off I can take a picture with Flynn Rider and ride Space Mountain...so I'm not complaining :)

In order to channel my somewhat-obsessive/overly excited feelings towards this new adventure, I turned to Pinterest for some ideas on how to keep myself busy/distracted. And I stumbled upon a 30 Day Disney Challenge for bloggers. According to the beautiful CountDown App on my phone (hush, don't judge me), I have 14 days until I catch a plane to Orlando which means that I'll have to double up and do two days worth of challenges at a time butttttt that's totally fine with me :) So....let's do this thing!

Day Number One: Favorite Character

The issue with me (and trust me, I have many many issues) is that I have so many favorites that I really struggled to nail them all down into one category because they could fit in so many. For example: Belle is my favorite princess but technically she's a heroine. But anyways, I digress.

For the issue of favorite character, there really was no debate. If you know anything about me and my love of Disney, it's that I absolutely adore the Lion King. So my favorite character is, naturally, Simba.

It took me many, many moons to understand the themes and the dynamics all at work in "The Lion King". No, it's not completely original. Yes, it's based off of Shakespeare's 'Hamlet'. But man oh man do I absolutely love it. 20 years of life later and I can still enjoy it. I have way too much of it committed to memory and I'm at the point where I have to monitor who I'm with when I watch it because I will do the full running dialogue throughout the entire thing.

Last Christmas the Broadway stage production of "The Lion King" came to San Francisco and my Christmas present to myself were two tickets to go and see it. My younger sister accompanied me and while she enjoyed it, I don't think she geeked out nearly as much as I did. I was in absolute heaven. If you ever have the chance to go see it GO. I'll be going again in a heartbeat if it ever comes to my neck of the woods again. The costumes are incredible and the way that the actors have taught themselves to move like wild animals...it's pretty amazing to watch. I'm a fan. 

The nerdiness has continued since my discovery of using 'Spotify' to listen to movie/musical soundtracks while I work on homework or write. The soundtrack for the Broadway version of the Lion King is powerful. My personal favorite song: "Endless Night". So much beauty and depth. It's more than a story about a lion and his silly meerkat/warthog friends. It's a movie with powerful themes and motifs on life and accepting who you are despite the mistakes that you've made. Plus...c'mon, Pumbaa is adorable ;)

I'm including a link to a YouTube video of a performance of 'Endless Night' on the Rosie O'Donnell show back in the day. Seriously go watch it and just fall in love. Plus: look at that costuming. A man. But a lion. At the same time. Pure genius.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f7AeTFYsBgc

Disney College Program: My Adventure! :)

On January 8, 2014 I'm going to be moving into an apartment on Disney-owned property in Orlando, Florida to work merchandise at Walt Disney World. I'll be down there participating in the Disney College Program from January 8 until April 11.

I've mentioned the Disney College Program (DCP) a few times before on the blog but I'll give a brief overview for newbies just poking around my blog for the first time:

In a nutshell, the DCP is a program for college students to come down and get work experience by working at a Disney park. The program is available at both Disneyland in Anaheim and Disney World in Florida. The program has been around longer and is more fully developed in Florida, so most participants get assigned to work there. You can be assigned to many different 'roles' (attractions, lifeguard, custodial, etc.). The application process involves filling out an application, taking a web-based interview, a phone interview, and then being offered a position. Disney has a few different housing complexes that kids on the DCP can live in, and rent is taken out of your paycheck each week. Depending on what your major is, participating in the DCP can actually count as a formal internship. Participants of the DCP are offered college courses through Disney that, again, some schools will recognize for college credit. In my case, school courses won't count and the internship won't count either so I'm just doing it for the experience. That's the basis of the program. If you want to learn more about the program, I'll put the link at the bottom of this post so you can read about more of the nitty-gritty details :)

I learned about the DCP during my first semester of school almost two years ago. I had two different people tell me about the program, but for the life of me I can't remember who I talked to first. The wonderful Jordan was my beautiful roommate back when I was a wee little freshman and her older sister had done the DCP. Jordan and I bonded over quite a few things that semester ('Friends', Harry Potter, Dr Pepper, etc.) but our love of Disney was definitely one of them. We went to a meeting on campus about it and heard about the program from official campus reps. Jordan had nothing but good things to say about it based on when her sister had done the program, so I got really excited. Around that same time, my friend Melanie and I went out to lunch. Her older sister was down in Anaheim participating in the DCP that semester. Melanie and I both were really excited about applying and all that jazz.

I applied several times to the DCP. Most of it was half-hearted 'oh wouldn't this be fun: I'm just going to run away to Disney' and I never got accepted. Last February I actually DID get accepted for Attractions, but felt that I needed to turn down the offer (which I did).

I applied, again, in September (I'm nothing if not persistent!). After applying, I got majorly hit with Disney fever. It was insane: staying up until all hours of the night reading blog after blog after blog of different people who had done the DCP and what they experienced. I watched just about every YouTube video available. I was a full-on freak. School hadn't started up for the semester so I was still back home and I'm pretty sure that every other sentence that I said to my Mom had something to do with Disney. Once I had my phone interview I, thankfully, calmed down and was able to focus on school like a semi-normal individual.

Disney says that 2-3 weeks after your phone interview you should expect to hear SOMETHING back: congratulations, thanks but no thanks, or a 'pending'. After I hit that 2 week mark I got ridiculously hopeful every time I got an email. But I figured that no news was good news at this point, so I kept waiting.

EXACTLY on my 3-week deadline, I got my email from Disney. I teach a class of toddlers every Tues/Thurs morning and during that time we're "professionals" so our cell phones have to be put away on pain of death. I pulled out my phone to check the time RIGHT before I went into the classroom, and saw the 'Congratulations' email but didn't have time to actually read any of the details before I went into class. I was able to shoot off a text to my Mom and a few other roommates/close friends who knew that I was waiting to hear back, but that was about it.

After class, I logged onto a computer with lightning speed and opened up the email that listed my role. I couldn't read for very long, because I had to go to work (I babysit for the world's greatest family EVER).

Suddenly it was all real: I could move across the country and go work for Disney. I expected to be off-the-walls ecstatic and crying tears of joy but I was FREAKING out. I was super nervous all of the sudden. Accepting the offer would mean moving across the country. I had to move across state lines to go to college, but I was about 3 hours away from both of my grandma's house and I have an aunt and uncle that live half an hour away. I'm still familiar with this part of the United States so it didn't seem THAT intimidating.

Not only that, but I go to school in a very small Mormon bubble. Literally everyone and their dog is Mormon here. Which is great because I've been able to grow spiritually and improve my life in so many ways. I wouldn't change that in a second. But moving to Orlando...that's like the REAL WORLD. I mean... people drink and do drugs and have sex. Whoa. Stop the presses. Scandalousssss ;) Now to be fair, I've had friends do all of those three things and it's never really been an issue in my life. They know what I will and won't do, and they've never pressured me to change. But the idea of living in a place with strangers who may not understand why I'm the weirdo that I am and might want to pressure me to do some of that stuff....kind of intimidating.

I'm not big on taking risks. Ever. A very good friend of mine pointed that out in a semi-loving way. I was the kid that wouldn't ever climb a tree because the thought of falling out and getting hurt was just too much to handle. I refused to pull out ANY of my baby teeth, for crying out loud. I wiggled and wiggled and wiggled until that tooth was literally only hanging on by a thread...but I would not pull that sucker out. It would hurt too badly. THAT'S the kind of kid I was and I haven't really changed much as I've grown older.

So to move across the country to Orlando where I don't know a soul and have no one to hold my hand and support me in all of my Mormon ways of living...are you getting why I was freaking out? When I called my Mom that afternoon--the same afternoon when I had gotten the Congratulations email--the first thing she said to me was "So have you accepted it yet?" and when I said no, she laughed. That's my mother, ladies and gentleman.

To be fair though, she wasn't laughing to be mean. When I first told my parents of my interest in DCP many many moons ago, they weren't exactly thrilled. I mean... having your college-aged daughter run away to work in a theme park run by a mouse isn't exactly every parents hope and dream. I get it. But as I kept being persistent, my parents were finally shown the light. Something about 'follow your passions' or something equally dreamy that belongs on a Hallmark card. I guess they just grew to realize that while I was still getting older physically, Disney made me revert back to that little girl.

So Mama dearest was on the phone with me when I clicked the 'I accept' button. And as soon as I did, THAT"s when the excitement hit. I've had several dozen Disney dreams since then (Space Mountain on a Monday afternoon while my sisters suffer through high school? YES PLEASE!).

So that's my story. I'll be down in Disney for 4 whole months. Since accepting my offer, I've harnessed the power of social media (oh hail Zuckerburg for giving us Facebook!) to locate roommates who are also natives of my dear ol' college. We've met up for a cupcake date and I am SO excited to live with these lovely ladies who have lived here in the Mormon bubble as well. My fears about moving to Orlando have been greatly lessened.

I have 44 days until I move down to Orlando for my adventure. And I am so freaking excited for it.

http://cp.disneycareers.com/en/default/

Things My Mama Taught Me...

Growing up, there was nothing more uncomfortable than answering the phone with a simple 'hello?' only to have the person on the other end assume it was my mother and launch into a novel of their problems that they were calling her about. Then I'd have to try and interrupt their ramblings like "Um hello? Hello? Hi um....Yeah...Wait...No.....Stop talking.... THIS ISN'T DIANE!!!!!!!!!!!" Yes, I suppose I could have wised up and started answering the phone as "Hello, this is Sydney" but....why? Clearly my brilliant wit and distinctive voice were all that were necessary to distinguish myself on the phone. Maybe Mom should be the one to start clarifying it was she on the phone.


People told me all of the time that 'you sound just like your Mom' or 'you look just like your Mom' or in some way, shape or form, link me back to her. I would smile sweetly, but was inwardly in complete denial. Yes, the woman had raised me...But I was a completely original person and she had no affect on me whatsoever. And don't get me STARTED on how 100% different I was from my father--but that's a post for another day.

But yes, I was totally my own person. And then I left the safety of the nest to start college....

I'm now in my third year and fifth semester of school and somewhere along the way I've humbled myself enough to realize that there MIGHT be a few similarities between my mother and I. Generally it's because I find myself cringing when I respond to someone in a way that is so perfectly Diane-esque that it's unbelievable. But more often than not, it's when I'm relating a story about my dear sweet mother to my roommates and friends. Someone will get a twinkle in their eye and say in a highly amused tone: "You know...the more I hear about your Mom, the more I really understand you, Syd".

So in the name of a) preserving the wealth of knowledge my mother has passed along to me and b) further procrastinating writing more lesson plans, I decided to condense some of the finer points of what I've learned from my mother into a single blogpost. Ambitious, right? :)

Lesson Number 1: How to Lick Cake Batter off of a Beater

As far as formal, 'sit-down-and-let-me-impart-knowledge-to-you-small-child' experiences, this is one of the first one that appears in my memory. Rather than just grabbing a beater in your fist and attacking with your whole face, there is a skill here. Using your thumb and pointer finger, pinch the beater and swipe all of the gooey cake batter to either the top of bottom of the beater and then lick it off of your fingers. Then you can avoid all of  that awkward I'm-making-out-with-a-beater weirdness that goes on. Pretty simple lesson, right? But oh how it has changed my life. I'm able to deftly clean a beater now. And if my explanation doesn't make sense... Sorry. I couldn't think of a better way to describe that motion. And as for this picture... I think it sums up my mother's sense of humor regarding all of baking.

Besides a love of cake batter, Mom has also instilled in me a love of homemade brownies to the extent that I am still incapable of rationalizing buying any of those store-bought made-from-a-box-brownies. I didn't even know that you could buy brownie mixes until I got to college and saw my roommates buying them. I was stunned!!! I have since tried some of the results of this box-brownies, and I remain convinced that homemade is best. The same can be said of waffles. I never would have thought to put pancake batter in a waffle iron and call it a day. Or throwing an Eggo waffle in a toaster for breakfast. Those things never were around the house. PS: who actually eats waffles for breakfast? I mean technically it's a breakfast food...but only in the 'breakfast for dinner' sense.

Lesson #2: Vick's VapoRub and a Can of Sprite = Remedy for All Illnesses

Last May, appendicitis decided to befriend me. I've blogged all about that lovely experience and if you'd like to read my drugged-up account of the whole thing, then by all means go stalk through my blog to find it. Long story short: lots of pain and puking up nothing-but-water before I finally sucked it up to go to the hospital only to find that an internal organ was about to rupture.

In the midst of the pain-and-puke, I called Mama in a desperate "Mother, I think I'm dying" last ditch effort. Back in the day, Mama knew exactly what to do and say to make me feel better and I guess the pain was deluding me into thinking it was still the case ;)

I had to call her about 3 times before she finally answered and, when she finally DID answer, she was none too pleased about being interrupted during church. I'm telling her everything that's happened and all of my symptoms all while trying not to cry because ohmygoodness did it hurt.

"Well, have you had any Sprite today?"

...Mom, I don't think you understand. I have been puking every 10 minutes for the last 4 hours. There is literally NOTHING left in my stomach and I'm still in intense pain. The pain isn't subsiding between these trips to the bathroom: something is seriously wrong here.

Long sigh on the other end of the phone. "Sydney you've had the stomach flu before. It's usually about a 24 hour thing. Drink some Sprite and let your stomach just get used to a little bit at a time. Get some sleep. It's just a bug".

To this day, my mother still swears that if I had just had some Sprite the whole hospital trip and appendectomy wouldn't have ever been necessary. Sprite is the magic cure-all for anything you might ever had. Combine that with the magical properties of Vick's VapoRub, and there is nothing that keep you down for longer than a day.

Lesson #3: Respect St. Patrick's Day

This past March was the first St. Patrick's Day that I ever spent away from my Mom and it just so happened to fall on a Sunday. I remember lying in bed the night before and just being full of stress that not a single one of my Sunday outfits had any green in it to go to church the next day.

Ohmygosh... I'm not going to have any green on St Patrick's day.. I'm going to be ATTACKED! Ohmygosh...Everyone is going to laugh and it's going to be so so so so bad... Is there anything I can steal from Stephanie that's green? Nothing that will match my outfit.... Shoot....

I was legitimately having a full-blown anxiety attack because all I had to wear was a black shirt, black plaid skirt, and black boots. It was about 2 am and my stress levels were probably worse than they were during finals week.

I grit my teeth and go to church the next day, fully expecting to be surrounded by a sea of differing shades of green. I walk in and not a single person has green on. 

 I don't think I even paid attention to the speakers because my mind was so blown. This was St Patrick's Day! You wear green or you get PINCHED! There were a few green ties here and there.... but I didn't see a soul get pinched. It was like nobody even noticed or cared what the date was.

To give you some backstory as to why this day scared me so badly: I lived in a househould where it was common knowledge that you'd better have green nailpolish on or remember to lock the bathroom door because Mom WILL attack and pinch you in the shower because of your lack-of-green. Growing up this was a day of terror and fear where you could never be 100% sure of where Mom was at any one time. I remember there was one day in elementary school where I had to strip down to my underwear to prove that I had some green on before I got pinched. Laugh if you must, but you did not simply 'opt out' of St. Patrick's Day at my house.

So sitting in my student ward in little ol' Idaho, my mind was blown. Everything I knew about the world was turning on its head... Didn't everyone live in fear on St. Patrick's day? Was there really another way to celebrate this weird-and-pretty-useless holiday?

I was trying to make sense of my universe again and was just barely trying to see straight again. I was sitting in Relief Society (the third hour of church and the meeting for the women in the ward) and suddenly, out of the freakin' blue, my dear roommate Stephanie reaches over and pinches me HARD. Like it really stinkin' hurt! And we're in the middle of church so I couldn't say anything and smack her back, but I could give her the stink-eye and stare at her in shock and horror since she just was so terribly distracting during such a spiritual meeting :P And that's when the shoe dropped.

She leaned over and showed me a text message from MY mother. My mother had gotten the number of my roommate's cellular device and had texted her, asking her to 'pretty please pinch Sydney if she forgets to wear green tomorrow'.

My feelings of betrayal at Stephanie selling me out were fleeting compared to the awe of just how psychotic my mother was about this ridiculous holiday. To orchestrate getting her daughter pinched from 1,000 miles away....that's pretty stinking impressive and terrifying all at once.

Lesson #4: Don't Hold Your Cards There If You Don't Want Me To Look At Them

My dad, aunts, and uncles would all give my mom such a hard time about being so dang competitive whenever we played card or board games. And each and every time, Mom came back with the same response: "If you don't want me to look at your cards, don't hold them where I can see them".

If you're being taught the rules of a game with a person with this kind of mentality, you learn pretty quickly how to shield your cards from sight. But when it came to college, holy cow not everyone had learned that lesson! It's really hard not to check out the cards of the person next to you when you're playing Skip-Bo, Apples to Apples, Uno, BS, or whatever else you're playing when the person next to you is just flashing them for the world to see. They're just asking for it, aren't they?


I think it was these experiences that really showed me how just hopelessly Diane Junior I really am...

"Are you LOOKING at my cards, Sydney?!"

"If you don't want me to look at your cards, don't hold them where I can see them, Hannah!"

Sigh. Cue the cringe. Holy cow. I really do sound like my Mom.

This summer my Mom and I went to my cousin's wedding. I had met the lovely addition to our family while we were up at school having family dinners, but Mom had never met the bride before. Mom came out of the temple and had a funny look on her face.

"I've never had someone say 'Oh you're Sydney's Mom' and tell me that I look like you..."

I laughed. I'm glad that it goes both ways and--more importantly--I'm glad that we have the kind of relationship where it's not insulting to either one of us to say that we're similar. I think my first choice on the 'Women To Be Like' would have to be Sandra Bullock (umm 'While You Were Sleeping'--need I say more?!), but I guess that my Mom is a suitable second-choice :)

Now just to clarify: yes, she's taught me the really important things too. My relationship with Christ, my plans for the future, my sense of humor...all of these things are because of her influence in my life. But I feel like that's the Mom that everyone knows.

I wanted to express my love for the 'quiet' Mama. Or really for the Mama that isn't quiet at all! People think that I get my snarkiness and wit from my Dad (sidenote: I've also learned in college that 'snarky' isn't a real word regardless of how much my Mother says it... I choose to ignore that grammar rule and use it anyways!) because Dad definitely has a pretty good wit about him. But my mother is NOT the quiet woman that I think some people think that she is.

Mama, I know that you're reading. And I hope that you're laughing. I tried to remain tactful, yet honest in this account of what I have learned from you. Because, as we both know:

If you have this much honesty (hold up 5 fingers) but only this much tact (hold up 1 finger), you're not going to make very many friends.

To my crazy Mother who is possibly the most competitive woman I know, but who can also spontaneously plan a last-minute Thanksgiving trip to Disneyland simply because she doesn't want to cook a Thanksgiving dinner, and who will start a 15-hour roadtrip at 10 pm at night... thanks for all of it :) You're pretty cool.

Problems With "The City of Bones"

Summer used to be one non-stop party. I guess, when done right, it still is. With only 6 weeks of true "summer" between spring and fall semesters, it's not even worth going job-hunting. It's always hard to move back in under Mommy and Daddy's roof after spending so much time on our own, but not having a job to get me out of the house makes it even harder. Thankfully Dad is out at work and Mom was volunteered to go up to marching band camp as a chaperone with the younger sisters, so I have the house to myself. It is all of the independence of having my own apartment up at school again, but with air-conditioning, free rent, a fridge stocked with food, and 2 adorable puppies to cuddle with. With so much free time on my hands, I'm not quite sure what to do with myself.
So, the tentative plan for today:

• Get the dogs out for a walk
• Clean up the kitchen
• Start a load of laundry
• Finish up "City of Bones"

 I used to be able to plow through a novel in a matter of hours, but then that thing called Real-Life kind of interrupted my nerdy tendencies. My sisters are still able to ready like it's their day job--mostly because they don't HAVE day jobs--and therefore always have a stack of books I need to read whenever I come home. They're bound and determined to see the new movie when it comes out. Therefore I have been mandated to finish the book. I'm patiently plodding through it, but thus far I can't say that it's my favorite. I'm not too far into it, so I hope that the pace picks up a bit because it's been a lot of talking and not much Shadowhunting thus far.

Any opinions on the book? DOES the pace pick up?? I'm not very far into it--they're just barely discovering that Clary has a spell placed on her to block her memories so they're off in some carriage thing to go get that taken care of--so don't reveal too many big spoilers but... it gets better, right? :-/

Thoughts on Humility

I, like many students, had to read Hemingway's "The Old Man and the Sea" in high school. The symbolism used in that story was powerful, don't get me wrong. But the basic plot-line of 'man goes fishing' got a bit tedious for me personally. As a girl living in Suburbia, California my fishing expeditions were quite limited (i.e: never happened. Yup, never in my life have I ever been fishing and, after reading that book, I'm not dying to go).

One of the parts of that novel that I distinctly remember is when the old man is bartering with God for his life--he offers to do a certain number of Hail Mary's in order to get something that he wants (I can't remember if it's to catch the fish or just to survive...) and I remember being a little skeptical at that. Even at sixteen, I questioned that approach to prayer. I wasn't raised Catholic so I've never said a Hail Mary or the Lord's Prayer in my life.

But bartering with God...can you do that?

I haven't thought about that in YEARS. I mean honestly, I haven't thought about reading that book in AP English 3 in Mr Warren's class since I left that classroom on the last day of junior year. So why the heck was that what was going through my mind at 4 am this morning?

Waking up in pain is awful. I swear that physical pain gets about 10,000x worse in the wee hours of the morning. There might be some psychological research to back me up on this--maybe it's because you're so overly tired that your senses are just heightened? Or maybe it's because you're just already so upset about losing sleep that it seems worse than it is? I've no idea. But pain between the hours of midnight and 6 am is much more excruciating than any other window of time--which is odd because my broken arm, broken finger, and appendicitis all happened during daylight hours but I swear the pain pales in comparison.

My neck felt sore when I went to bed last night but I woke up at like 4 in the morning with my right shoulder, neck, and head all in pain. I lay there and tried to get comfortable, but I felt like there was this huge pinched nerve in my neck and shoulder topped off with a pounding headache. Ow.

Waking up in the wee hours of the morning is weird anyways. You never want to be too awake because then it becomes impossible to fall back asleep, but you have to wake yourself up to a point of consciousness so that you can distinguish between what you were dreaming about and what is actually happening. In my case, I had to make the distinction at 4 am that I was home at my parent's house and as not in fact having a sleepover at my best friends' girlfriend's house.

Trying to walk the fine line between sleep-walking and fully-awake, I went out to the kitchen for some Advil and an ice-pack to lay on. I crawled back in bed and was just in agony. I have no a clue as to what I did, but holy Hannah it was painful.

"Heavenly Father...I really need to sleep tonight. Can you please just take this pain away from me so that I can get some sleep?"

That's when I started to get profound and deep at 4 am.

This has to be one of the most common prayers all around the world.

I don't pretend to be naive enough to believe that everyone in the world turns to a higher power during painful sleepless nights. Atheists have their own way of coping, I'm sure. But at that moment...I would have read scriptures for 8 hours in the morning if it meant that the Advil would kick in faster and let me fall back asleep.

It was at that moment when "The Old Man and the Sea" flooded my mind and I suddenly had complete and total empathy for the old man. At our weakest and most vulnerable moments, we lose all of our pride and turn to the Lord with complete and utter submission. We will do anything that He asks of us if it means that we receive His help and His protection.

It's not bartering at all. It's humility.

Martin Luther, the Reformist who nailed his 95 Theses on the door of the Catholic church, had a similar experience. When traveling through a lightning storm, he swore to become a monk if the Lord would spare his life. There are many men who fought in wars overseas who came home and devoted their life to God or became baptized into different denominations of churches for the very same reasons.

"Why do bad things happen to good people?"

Because sometimes we refuse to accept His help and make the changes we need to make without being pushed. When there's nothing more we can do for ourselves, we turn to the only person who could make it better and we're willing to do whatever it takes to qualify for His help.

"So...have you put your mission papers in yet?"

Have you put your mission papers in yet?
Are you thinking about a mission?
Why aren't you going on a mission?
You'd be a really great missionary--you really should think about going.

This may not be the most righteous of attitudes to have on the subject, but it truly is driving me NUTS how many people keep asking these types of questions. But first and foremost on this topic: if you're going to ask, ask ME.  

Going on a mission is a personal decision that is made after a lot of time and thought and is not one that my parents can/should make for me. I promise I don't bite. If you have a question about my life (i.e: are you engaged? are you dating? is there a man? is there a mission?) then don't ask my Mommy and Daddy. Pretty pretty please with cherries on top. I don't think I'm intimidating. I think the handful of people with these questions have probably seen me in one awkward scenario or another and know that I'm really not a scary person. I don't know what the reasoning would be for asking my parents rather than asking me. Facebook, cell phones, email, talking in person...all are socially acceptable methods of communication in 2013. Heck, I even respond to snail mail--so 'convenience' is not a valid excuse. The only other idea I can come up with is that these people are feeling too uncomfortable/insecure/awkward about asking these types of personal questions. I don't know if those are necessarily the right descriptors--but you know what I mean: you feel uneasy asking me personally and therefore rely on 3rd person communicators. If that's the case (I'm not saying it is, I'm really only guessing)...then you're probably right and it's none of your business in the first place. 

That being said, I have to admit that it makes me smirk when I hear that people are asking my parents for the details of the state of my love life. I mean...really? I think Mama knows the vague colorless outline of what's going on (aka: NOTHING), but did you sit down and fill your parents in on the state of your romantic business at 20? If you did...kudos to you, but I think you're weird.  

Don't get me wrong, my Mom and I are close and I tell her a lot but I really don't sit down and share every single detail of how I feel about every single guy in my life--especially the ones I might be interested in. I'm kind of private about that stuff-----which is why you don't see me word-vomiting all over Facebook. When something substantial actually happens, fear not. I'll be all over puking joy and giddiness all over Facebook and you'll be fully aware of it to the point of wanting to shoot me. Until then, let's all just take a deep breath and chill. I'm quite happy (gleeful, even) to have escaped being a teenage bride at BYU-I-Do. I'm in no rush to get married, but I leave it in the Lord's hands to set the pace of my life how He will. If you've got a problem with that, that's between you and Him.

So are you going on a mission, Sydney?

I can sum all of this up in one, short concise word: NO.
  I am not. I've tried to dance around with "well, no not right now" or "maybe later" but I really don't feel that's entirely honest. Upon my last conversation with the Lord on the matter (which was yesterday, for all of you nosy busy-bodies), it was not a "not right now" or "maybe later". It was just a flat-out NO. At this point in my life, I am not planning on serving a mission on my own--maybe with my husband but that's a completely different stage of life. If that answer changes, I'll let you know. But until then it is a NO.

This is not because I am any less worthy or less righteous than any other good sister (or elder) who are either currently serving or somewhere along the process of preparing to serve. Guys, I promise I love the Lord. It's not a question of that. I promise I'm not going inactive and becoming this heathen. If it were up to me, I'd be putting my papers in today. But I'm not the only one involved in this decision and that is a fact that I am eternally grateful for.  Let me walk you through this decision of mine as much as I can. You can choose to accept this decision, or not, I don't really care. Your opinion will not change the facts. I don't care if you agree or not. At the end of the day, I don't really need your acceptance on this one.

Let me take a moment and apologize for the antagonistic snarky attitude radiating off of this post. I don't think this animosity is really directed at any one person specifically. This is addressed to all of the dozens of people who have thought it necessary to tell me their plans for my life since the mission age was changed last October. This has been building for a while and it needs to be said because I can guarantee I'm not the only girl out there like this. Some of these people with great plans for my life were really just acquaintances that were pretty easy to ignore. Some of these people were very close to me. And it hurts. A lot. 

Nobody likes to be told what to do--I'm the most indecisive person in the world, but even I get bothered when someone oversteps their bounds and tries to force their opinions on my life down my throat. I think it's universally uncomfortable and we all just hate it. So can we all agree to stop? There's a fine line between a suggestion and forcing it upon someone. If you can't see the difference, then you probably should just hold your tongue all together.

Have you always known that you weren't going to go on a mission?

No, not at all.

For those of you who don't know, girls in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints being allowed to go on missions at 19 years old is a new thing. The policy was changed last October: boys could leave at age 18 (rather than 19) and girls could now leave at age 19 (rather than 21). Before this change, there was a sort of social stigma accompanying sister missionaries. Nobody deny it--it's true. Well, if you're 21 and that frumpy spinster with absolutely no marriage prospects then I guess the best desirable option in your pathetic 'forever alone' life is to serve a mission. Some of the girls I know who served at 21 were some of the most inspiring girls I had ever met. They were amazing, through and through. But still...there was always this tongue-in-teeth way of smiling at them like "oh bless your soul, you couldn't find a husband'.

For me personally, I was never one of those girls who grew up planning on becoming a missionary. The life plan since about age 3 was "go to a church school, find a husband, get married, get a degree, and raise a family" (not necessarily in that order--degree could definitely always come before the hubby). When people asked me about a mission, my answer was always pretty simple: "eh, we'll see where I'm at when I'm 21". I think a lot of girls had that idea. Lots of dating and marriages happen in the LDS community between 18 and 21 for a good percentage of the girls, and I wasn't about to rule that out for myself. Despite all the awkardness and sass, the returned missionary Prince Charming dream was very appealing (and still is!). A mission would come if those original plans didn't pan out.

I remember the first time a mission ever seriously crossed my mind was in seminary my senior year. We were watching a documentary-ish type movie (I don't remember the title but it wasn't full-on "The District" but it wasn't "The Best Two Years" either...somewhere between those two types of missionary movies) about missionaries and the sister missionaries were really highlighted. That was the first time it really piqued my interest. I was like "yeah...ok...that would be truly amazing. I'd like to do that" as compared with some of my female classmates who were either "yes this is what I've been dreaming of my whole life" or "heck no, bring me a man and let's make babies!" I was much more lukewarm about the idea, but getting warmer.

So how do you know that you're not going on a mission? You're not engaged are you?

No, I'm not engaged nor am I seriously dating to the point where I will be engaged anytime soon. That's not the reason. So chill. 

I can remember exactly where I was sitting when the age change was announced for missionaries. To put it in perspective when all of this happened last year: I had been 19 for about 4 months and was in my third semester of college at BYU-I. Life was pretty good. The last guy I was seriously interested in had been out on his mission for a few months. Things were going pretty well there and we had agreed to see what happened when he got home. I had point-blank told him that if I was single when he got home and things didn't work out with him, I was going on a mission. But that was something I didn't have to worry about for another two years or so.

I was in my apartment at school, curled up in a blanket and taking notes like a good little girl. It was the first session of conference so I was super jazzed and ready to go. I had Monkey Bread in the oven that I was checking periodically and I was in a good mood. President Monson started talking, welcoming everyone to conference blah blah blah and then HOLY-COW-THE-MISSION-AGE-WAS-JUST-CHANGED.

Girls can go out on missions at 19.

Immediately my mind started racing: I could go on a mission now and be home by the time The Boy got home and then we could see if things worked out and I wouldn't have to choose between the two and ohmygosh I think I really want to go and this would be amazing and holy cow holy cow holy cow.

In that 1 second, on a scale of 1-10 of wanting to go on a mission I was honest-to-goodness at about a 17. I was SO PUMPED. I didn't realize how badly I wanted to serve until I was given the opportunity.


All of this happened within a literal 5 second window of the announcement being made. President Monson hadn't even started his next sentence before I knew that I wanted to go and I wanted to go NOW.

And that's when I got my answer.

This huge tremendous NO. 

I heard it and I felt it. It was like a sledgehammer hit me on the top of the head and shook me all the way down to my toes. I think I even looked up like "what the heck just happened?"

Never in my life have any of my conversations with the Lord been that immediate and that direct. I hadn't even thought to pray about it. I just had the desire to drop everything and go and listen to the call from our prophet. And the Lord told me no before I even asked about it.

I'm stubborn, I admit it. But I'm also hugely indecisive--especially when I'm emotionally overwhelmed. I don't think I could have arrived at that answer on my own without weeks and weeks of stress and tears. It was an enormous blessing to have it that immediately.

Don't get me wrong, I was shocked. It was like getting the wind knocked out of me: unexpected and painful. I got up to check the monkey bread in the oven and I prayed about it like "...ok...no but I really want to go". And the Lord didn't change His answer. It was so fast and so direct and so unavoidably obvious that I didn't question it and I still don't. I didn't like it, but I knew that I had gotten my answer.

I'm pretty sure I was numb throughout that entire session of conference. I had people texting me asking if I was going to go, or telling me that they were going to go. That session of conference hadn't even finished before I had to start telling people that: yes, I want to go...but no, I'm not.

If you know my Dad, you know what a fan he is of missionary work. Calling home to say that "I'm not going on a mission" is possibly one of the hardest things I've had to do. I cried a lot that day. Later it turns out that hormones SUCK and were ganging up on me--so that made me feel a little bit less like an emotional psychotic freak. But it was hard. Really really hard.

Why was it so hard? If you have faith in your answer then shouldn't you just know that everything is going to work out alright for you and that the Lord is mindful of you and has a plan? 

HA!!!!!!!!!!

Yes, I knew that I was doing the right thing and that I would be blessed for it. That doesn't meant that it didn't suck to have to open Facebook for the next 2 days and see what felt like EVERYONE posting about putting in their mission papers. That doesn't mean that it didn't really hurt to see the disappointment and/or judgmental "oh apparently you're not all that righteous of a woman" face whenever I had to awkwardly explain to someone that no, a mission is not in the cards for me (yes, that facial expression is a real thing). Like I said, I was at about a 17 or 18 on the 10-point scale of 'wanting to serve a mission'. And yes, I knew that the Lord would take care of me. Faith got me through it. But nobody ever said that was easy.

If you want to know what it felt like, go watch the first half an hour or so of "Captain America".  I've jumped on the whole superhero bandwagon without any iota of knowledge about the comic books, so to me the movies were just plain fun. I thought "Captain America" was a little long and Mr Red-Face was a bitttttttttt too much for me (I get the whole 'suspension of disbelief' thing, but I could only suspend it for so long)--but anyways, I digress!

"Captain America" is the first example that comes to my mind, but I'm sure there are dozens of other stories out there, of this very basic storyline: there is a call to serve sent out and despite an immense desire to serve, he isn't accepted and therefore feels inadequate and judged by those around him. In most plots, this call to serve is a declaration of war or a draft but in my case it was the lowered age change. For Captain America (whose name I forget and am too lazy to Google), his problem was solved by becoming the world's hottest--I mean BRAVEST--super soldier. He got to fight, though not in the way that he was originally intending.

I have no doubt this is the Lord's plan for me, but sometimes it's really stinking hard to keep that positive attitude when all of the menfolk are rushing off to sign up for the draft, and all of the womenfolk want nothing to do with pitiful little you because they want to hold out their heart for those brave few willing to sacrifice everything for the cause and you don't even measure up in their eyes. Ok, in this case it's WOMEN who are going out to sign up and it's the MEN who aren't willing to give a girl a shot if she doesn't have the title RM on her resume--but I think you understand the metaphor I'm attempting to make.

There was all of this 'missionary fever' and it seemed like everyone was rushing out to join the draft to answer the Lord's call...and then there was me. The case can be made that most of these feelings of inadequacy were all just in my own head and that's probably true--to a point. There are always those few choice individuals that smile and say nothing but sweet words, but their condescending tone of voice and judge-y eyes told a whole different story. I think the response that grated my nerves the most was the sigh and the "oh well, you can go with your husband" when I expressed my desire to serve but my decision to not. A mission at 19 in vastly different than one when I'm with my husband and we're both retired. Please do not try to equate the two. Both are good and both are very important in the Work. Don't try to placate me by telling me that my desire to serve at 19 will just roll-over until I'm able to at like 65. It doesn't work like that and it just irritates me.

I think one of the most powerful images in "Captain America" is when poor lil ol' Captain (ok no seriously, what is his name?!) is ditched at the fair by his handsome friend and the 2 dates they brought along. The only party that Captain is looking for is a pity party and he stands very lonely in front of this window that has army uniforms in it. It's a display meant for kids, but he stands (on tiptoes) in this certain spot and in the reflection it looks like he's wearing the uniform.

 He can see the future that he wants for himself: he wants to sacrifice himself and be like everybody around him who is dutifully answering the need for volunteers. But he can't. His limitations were physical, and mine are spiritual.

Ok so where the heck are you going with this? Do you want us to feel sorry for you because you're left out?

Heck no! Don't feel bad for me at all. It was a rough few weeks (and months) but I am at peace with it now. I know that I'm doing what I need to be doing. Not all of us women were called to be missionaries. It is perfectly ok to not go. It's not expected of us by the Lord and therefore shouldn't be expected of us in Mormon culture.

Maybe the Captain America metaphor was a bit too whiny, but my point is this: the decision to NOT go on a mission is probably harder in a lot of cases than the decision to go. So next time you feel yourself looking over the girl YOU feel should be on a mission and starting to get a little preachy or judgmental DON'T. Unless you are in some position to be gaining revelation for her (and being a teacher in Relief Society doesn't count), then keep your opinions to yourself. Support her. Because it can be hard to be the girl at home.

Do you still feel all Captain America-y or are you happier now?

Thankfully, I do believe my Captain America days are behind me. It definitely was a period in my life and it wasn't very fun, but that's over now. In one of my online classes I took in the winter, I was reading in the Doctrine and Covenants where the Lord is speaking to Hyrum and basically saying "Thanks but no thanks" on his desire to serve a mission.

That hit me really hard. So hard that there were tears (and I don't cry much). It's really devastating to have a righteous desire denied to you. Maybe it was the fact to read that I'm not the first one to have this problem is what enabled me to just...move on. It seems really stupid, but just to read and to know that I am not the first person in the world to be denied a mission because there are bigger things in store for me...it was comforting. It makes me seem really prideful and shallow, but I can't think of any other way to phrase it.

So I guess that's why I'm blogging about it now. Because we hear so much that "girls are being called on missions so that the next generation will have truly spiritually strong mothers in the last days" and I have no doubt that it is true doctrine. But it kind of makes me take a step back and be like "...so does that mean that my children will all be apostate anti-Mormon mobsters because I'm going to fail them?" And I don't believe that's the case at all. I'm doing what the Lord has told me to do and I am promised blessings because of it. My future children will not suffer because I wasn't a full-time missionary with a badge on my chest for 18 months. That's comforting.

So what's next for you then, if not a mission? Marriage? Because clearly the only reason you would be told so strongly NOT to serve a mission is because you're supposed to find a man, get married and multiply and replenish the earth.

Oh goodness. Really? That's all of the choices that I have left open to me right now? Thank you. No pressure there.

Don't get me wrong. I love the singles' ward (well...sort of). I want to make t-shirts for the YSA organization with our slogan written on it: 3 M's: Mingle, Marry, Multiply. Because clearly, if you're 20 and not mission-bound then you should be marriage-bound.

Ok, ok slow your roll. Like I said, I still love the idea of the RM Prince Charming dream. Still makes my inner 13 year old sigh like a Disney princess. I'm dating (sort of...as best that I can). And when anything substantial happens, I'll let you know :P Until then, let's all just calm down.

As a side note, it is really hard to date when the common attitude that I hear most from the eligible bachelors of the church is "well there's no one to date...all the girls are on missions".

Ahh yes, thank you for the reminder. I forgot that since I'm not on a mission, I have given up my claim to womanhood and have instead decided to transform into an un-date-able troll. Excellent, excellent :)

All joking aside, there is a boy. He's still on a mission. Missionaries are in a committed relationship with the Lord for 2 years so when he comes home and is date-able again, then you might hear more. Until then, there's not much to say.

To all the ladies who have wanted to answer the call to serve but have also felt it was not right with them: good for you. Stay firm and stand your ground when the Relief Society starts to question it. Keep reading your Patriarchal blessing and attending the temple. Continue to pray about your decision, but have faith that you'll be told what you need to. Look to the friends around you right now and see if maybe your mission is to help your neighbor. Above all, know that you're not alone in this. I get it, I really really do.