Chocolate polka-dots

My friend Chloe and I have decided to do a "Russki Chas" (Russian hour) this summer in order to practice and improve our Russian. Every day we decide on a different theme--and it has ranged from Russian literature to electrical engineering. It's really fun. Like, really fun.

Today it was cooking. Because, let's be real. How often in Russian courses do you go over how to read even basic recipes in Russian or read a cookbook? Not often.

Today I learned the Russian word for "chocolate chips." Which you would think I would know, because, oh, I don't know, chocolate chips are one of my 5 basic food groups. But I never learned it because they don't really have chocolate chips in Ukraine or Russia. (When I baked chocolate chip cookies in Ukraine, I always just cut up a chocolate bar.)

But it's the cutest thing. It's "schokoladny kroshky," or literally, chocolate polka-dots.

Isn't that amazing?

I love Russian.

And I love chocolate polka-dots.

Dress Codes

"Come as you are," they said.

So we came as we were. 

Fabulous. 

Hooray for wonderful roommates who are so fun to live with.* 

And hooray for more occasions to wear phenomenal dresses. 

[Annnnd, a vanity shot because I couldn't help myself. #sorrynotsorry]

* And as an aside, I learned yesterday with the Boden catalog that came in the mail that apparently I live with a Baroness Becky Burr. So yes. We do fancy here. Obviously. 

Three times a bridesmaid

What gets posted on Instagram.

Reality. 

In which I realize that I am actually part Slytherin. Or Spartan.

Once upon a time in a land not too far away, Megan was a cute little twelve-year-old with huge glasses, braces, and an obsession with ancient Greece. This obsession was enabled by the fact that her 6th-grade class was studying ancient Greece, and her teacher had divided their class up into "polises." 

Megan was sure that she would be assigned into Athens. I mean, she was pretty Athenian down to her core, right? Loved the arts, loved literature, loved winning debates . . . Athens must be her polis. 

But nope. She got Sparta. 

Which made no sense to her. Sparta was the athletic polis. They were the warriors. 

Whenever Megan played soccer, she always got kicked in the face. She was the second-slowest runner in her class. So she generally stayed away from sports and would swing on the swingset, or make up imagination games with her friends. 

But here she was. In Sparta. 

But what Megan soon discovered while in Sparta was that her thirst for competiton was just as fierce as any Spartan's. 

And there was a rule, written right in the "We are Sparta!" worksheet, saying that they, as Spartans, could do whatever it took to win. Whatever. They could beg, steal, borrow, or barter (or lie, or bribe, or whatever) to win. But particularly to beat Athens. 

You shouldn't tell that to twelve year olds. Particularly to usually-demure twelve year olds. Because when you do, the floodgates break loose, and drama always ensues. 

Well, my Spartan mentality came back to me Monday night during our ward Family Home Evening activity. 

[Quick aside: Basically, for those unfamiliar with Mormon terminology, a ward is a congregation of Mormons. Like, a mob of ravens, a dazzle of zebras, a ward of Mormons. Family Home Evening is a Mormon tradition where you spend Monday night doing activities with your family. For a Young Single Adult ward, Family Home Evening can be any number of permutations. Usually they involve doing silly things or playing sports. And they always involve food.]

Anyway, this Monday we had a road rally/scavenger hunt. You had thirty minutes to do/find and photograph or video yourself and those in your group doing a bunch of random things. They could be anything from finding a Utah state quarter to making a half-court shot blindfolded. 

My roommates and I were really skeptical and didn't think it would be very fun, but then our competitive natures came out. And we had a little bit too much fun. 

Here's some proof: 

[My head is cut off. But we managed to do this human pyramid.]

[Becky just happened to have a sewing mannequin? Weird. So Jessica gladly posed next to it.]

[Planking.]

[Yoga poses.]

We were running around our apartment and the apartment complex trying to get as many things done on the list as possible. One of the girls jumped in the pool. We also took a super awkward picture of Marcus giving me a piggyback ride. Basically, we are crazy. 

And we found anyway to bend the rules to make it work. Or more like, make what we were doing fit inside the rules. Like how Becky wrote "For Sale" and held it up for me to take a picture to say that we had a picture of us with a "For Sale" sign. (Hey. It works.) 

We also attempted that half-court shot. And by we attempted, I mean that we asked the teenagers who were playing basketball to make a half-court shot for us. (Hey, there was nothing that said we had to make the shot ourselves. Just that we had to have a video of someone making the shot.) And the kid made the shot! And it was on video! And we knew that we had most likely won, because, dude, that was worth 500 points! 

[Also, as an aside, one of the items on the scavenger hunt was, "Get an autograph from a stranger." So Becky had the kid who made the shot autograph her hand, because that's all we had. And he signed it "Young-sexy." So this is where we are in America today.] 

We zoomed over to the church building to get there on time, added up our points, gloated that we had made a half-court shot, and were generally congratulating ourselves on winning. #teamwinning for the win. Per usual. 

We looked like Slytherin about to win the House Cup. 

And I say that literally. And that "about" is important. 

Because when the moment of truth came, and we were announced the winners, the judges of course asked to see the video of the half-court shot. 

And we couldn't find it. 

We accidentally deleted it. 

And so the House Cup was taken away from Slytherin and given to a bunch of boisterous Gryffindors. 

I never identified so much with Draco Malfoy as I did in that moment. 

Another team did vouch for us and say that the kid had made the shot, but it was too late. Dumbledore had already given Neville Longbottom those 10 extra points and it was over. 

Well, it was fun while it lasted. 

For all my Ravenclaw-ness, I guess there's a little bit of Slytherin (and Sparta) in me after all. 

Seen at Oxford

Just some fun sightings during my daily Oxonian strolls. 

[Tea + Lionel Richie = winning.]

["Never underestimate the power of the British accent; it's catnip to Americans." 

100% TRUE AND NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT FALSE.]

["We endorse ice cream for breakfast." This is why we can be friends, G&D.]

["If you feel something is missing in life, it is almost always a biscuit." Yup.]

["A good book will keep you fascinated for days. A good bookshop for your whole life." Good thing there are so many good bookshops in Oxford. I'm set.]

[I just had to throw this in. Because Tolstoy. And I thought this was a beautiful cover of War and Peace.]

Oxford is a clever city. I mean, you wouldn't expect anything less, would you? 

Ugly Jumpers.

I have been amused and slightly disturbed by the amount of puff-balls, sparkles, and Olafs on Christmas sweaters here.

Here are some of my favorites:

[It's like the jumper was rolled in some kind of tinsel factory, and then elves dropped candy canes on it.]

[I am so glad that Rudolph is showing us the way to the North Pole with his puff-ball red nose and his googly-eyes. Especially his googly-eyes.]

[Is it a Christmas tree? Is it a hoodie? Oh wait, it's BOTH! It's a Troodie!]

[And then this one. Ohhhh, this one. It is an advent calendar. And it can be yours for a steal of 5 pounds.]

Moral of the story. England wins the contest for ugly Christmas jumpers.  So if you want to win an ugly sweater contest, pick up one of these beauties at your local Primark.

"Is it Latin for 'Worst Game Ever Invented'?"

These. These are good. 

 "I brolieve in you." Hahahaha.

 Story of my life.

 Story of my life #2.

 Don't mess with a Queen of Narnia.

I may or may not have done this once or twice in my life.  

 Story of my life #3.

 Um, yes.

And my personal favorite . . . 

This is what happens when you have an out-of-the-blue Narnia phase. I'm a dork. I know. But I figured these were too good not to share. 

Also, I found these all from this tumblr: It's King Edmund, Actually. There are more on the website and they are hilarious. (But be warned, some of them swear, so if you don't like that, be careful.) 

Bruno Mars meets Jack Kelly

So this just happened and it's one of the greatest mash-ups in the history of mash-ups:



I just want to watch it. Over and over and over again.

Two of my guilty pleasures in one.

Now just add Ben and Jerry's Half-Baked ice cream.

Deserving Donuts

Happy National Donut Day!

I hope that you enjoyed some donuts today.

(My favorites are the old-fashioned donuts. Mmmm . . . so good.)

Why I love Tolstoy class [part the second]

If you couldn't tell from the post below, I loved my Tolstoy class this semester.

But only part of it was because of the life-changing, soul-searching questions and themes Tolstoy brings up.

A big part of it was because three of my roommates and I were in the class together and that our brilliantly snarky professor loves us. [He calls us the "Fab Four." And we are not opposed to that at all.]

And, since he is a brilliantly snarky Russian literature professor, I collected a slew of quotes from him. There was something great and new every day. Here are some of the quotes from the semester:

P (on the first day of class): This is Eating Disorders 325 . . .

(Someone realizes they're in the wrong class and leaves)
P: I am so glad he's gone.

P: I don't see silence or shyness as a character flaw.

P: I think anger is a great motivator to get me out of bed. But it's kind of a junky energy--doesn't get me anywhere.

Student: It's like if you were given a great sum of money and you decided to hoard it, and you become, like-
P: Happy
S: Like Gollum.

P: We're never too far from our junior high selves.

Student: Maria got on my nerves . . .
P: Because she's a Christian?
S: Um, no . . .

P: I'm not saying pregnant women should be given a pass--but they pretty much should. Especially in Russia in 1805.

P: A lot of nice people are going to say a lot of nice things about you. Don't believe any of them.

P: Pierre emerges from a bastion of nerdery. And there's no room in this world for anyone like that.

P: The real men in Tolstoy know how to hunt. But they also are great dancers and ice skaters.

Student: Is it normal for 30-year-old men to propose to 18-year-old girls?
P: Yes.
S: Was or is?
P: Sure. I mean -- I sure hope not now.

P (about Natasha in War and Peace): Can't a girl have a little fun? It seems not.

P (about Maria in War and Peace): Would you prefer her to be Alma the Younger, intent on destroying the church of God?

P (about any number of characters in Tolstoy): Is this someone who is ready to enter the complex world of adult relationships? It appears not.

P (as someone's cell phone goes off in class): I like to see my life as run by some sort of soundtrack. So thank you for that.

P (about Helene in War and Peace): She's torn between two lovers . . . as we often are.

P (who is a grammar freak): Cover-up is what I saw in the Daily Universe today. "A government cover-up." Think of all the implications of what this means.

P: No, no, I love wasting time. It's the one thing I do well. That and waste your time.

P: I'm still waiting for the sequel to War and Peace: "War, What is it Good For?"

P (impersonating complaining student): "You don't understand, professor, I never get Cs."
Well, you just did. [eye roll] Weird.

P (about Kitty in Anna Karenina): Because when you are experiencing heartbreak, you go away--you go to Germany, because nothing bad ever happens in Germany.

P (about Tolstoy writing Anna Karenina): So, why did he write this. I mean, he could have taken out an ad in the newspaper: "Adultery is bad."

P: Let me tell you, as someone who does absolutely nothing except look extraordinarily beautiful, it's not easy.

P: "Hate ON her?" We can do better than this. We have devolved. 

P (just finding out that Greer had hurt her leg): You didn't play it up. I would have played it up.

P (to student): Just don't quote me anymore.

P (to student): No, no, it's all right. You're great. 

P (impersonating person in a modern art museum): "I could have done that."
Then I say, "Well, you didn't do it."
And then my wife tugs my arm.

P (talking about men saying that their wives are so much better/spiritual than them): That's what men say when they're in trouble. "Oh, my wife is just so much better than I am." Then you know they're atoning for something that week.

P: Buzzed driving is drunk driving. I heard it on the radio.

P: A new child? Great, another person to disappoint.

P (pleased with himself after returning from a trip to Arizona): Sunshine suits me.

P: It's a lot of dazzle. Like jazz hand dazzle.

P: I hope you're never my bishop one day.

P: You didn't know it was "bring a picture to share" day?

P (wearing a hideous sweater and wanting compliments to satisfy his pride): You like my sweater, don't you, Dillon?
D: Yes.
P: See, Emily?

P (being upset/annoyed that we all know the story of feeding the two wolves and he doesn't): All right, you guys know it, I don't. I don't want a wolf.
Clarissa: They're inside you.
P: Really, Clarissa, inside me? You can do better than that.

P (to me after Emily interrupts me): Does she do this a lot?
Greer: Only when we raise hands in our apartment.
P: Hurry, before she interrupts someone else.

P (to student): You just printed it out? Seconds before it's due? Poor you.

P (impersonating Tolstoy talking to historians): If you don't like it, go away. I'll give you a cookie.

P: We are only a step away from the kindergarten class that released us a few years ago.

P: Every once in awhile I'll get a student who comes into my class the day before class ends and asks me, "How can I do well in this course?"
"It's over."

P: You should write a paper on that. It's due Thursday.

P: Once I'm told, I want to defy it because I can.

P (about student evaluations): I used to get "You're a jerk" quite a lot. Last year I got: "You're such a jerk. So that's better.
And then two years I found out about Rate My Professor. Someone said on my evaluation: "Rate My Professor has a chili pepper for you. Some people are so delusional."
I bet Dr. Brown [another Russian professor--they are best friends] has 5 chili peppers.
I tell him sometimes, "Tony, I just want to punch your beautiful face." But he's just so genuine and kind. I can't do it.

P (on the last day/last seconds of class): What can I say? I adore you. Now leave! Be free! Be free!

Basically, I love this professor. And I love that he loves us. (Also, he knows a lot about the Fab Four since we did personal essays about the uncertainties in our lives for our final projects . . . so he knows more about our angst than anyone should.)

But he's got our backs. And it's nice to know that we can count on him to fight for us if we needed him to. He could pulverize anyone with his snark.

Sufferin' Until Suffrage

Today is the 94th anniversary of the passage of the 19th Amendment!

So, in honor of US women's right to vote, I'm including some of my favorite music videos about women's suffrage.

Like this one.



Dear, dear, Mrs. Banks. Well done, Sister Suffragette. [and yes. I KNOW that this song is about the suffrage movement in Britain, not America. But just deal with it. It's a great song. And it's about suffrage. And both American and British suffragists worked, campaigned, and went to jail to try to get the right to vote. So I feel like it's a solidarity in sisterhood kind of thing.]

Next up--another blast from the past. Enter the groovy and catchy tunes from Schoolhouse Rock. I mean, this is about as 1970s as you can get. Bell-bottoms and as many "right ons" and "yeahs" you'd ever want. And it's great.



Okay, last one. Just to let you know, it's a mixture of slightly disturbing and awesome. It's a spoof of Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance" music video (which I've actually never seen--but that's what people tell me), so there are some parts that are straight up weird. Nothing too weird--I think it's hilarious and does a good job of being pretty historical accurate (that is, for a Lady Gaga parody). But if you are looking for a historical, avant garde music video that depicts the American woman's fight for suffrage in the early part of the twentieth-century, this video is for you.



Now all of these songs will be stuck in your head. Simultaneously.

For the Shire

I think these are kinda cool. It's an old Russian illustrated version of Lord of the Rings. And the illustrations are quasi-medieval. 

Here are some of them: 

Here's the link, if you'd like to see more: 

http://egelantier.tumblr.com/post/85739410808/my-childhood-russian-edition-of-lord-of-the-rings

Grease Meets Star Trek

I love stupid YouTube videos. I'm sure I've mentioned it on this blog before. Because I love them. It's probably unhealthy.

I was reminded of this classic not too long ago. Warning: if you watch it, you will waste 3.5 minutes of your life that you will never get back. And get a terribly banal and repetitive song stuck in your head. I mean, you're watching this and going, what is this? Because it makes no sense but you can't stop watching it. You just can't.

I mean, who would want to stop watching some Swedish or Finnish pop group in some kind of 70s Star Trek Meets Grease the Musical with dance moves from 80s aerobic workout videos and pageboy haircuts with some dude, wearing a gold chain that looks like the Deathly Hallows sign, looking straight into the camera singing about how he wants to hold you tender? I mean, it doesn't get any more twilight-zoney than this.





I am so having this be the first dance at my wedding.







Favorite part: Okay, even if you're not going to watch the entire thing, back me up on this. At 1:52, is that guy in the back rocking out to a toaster?! Because I'm pretty sure he's rocking out to a toaster.

Ain't your daddy's jug band

This just gets better every time I watch it.

It's Story Time

Remember how I have a wise-cracking history professor? Well, he told a story today that I just have to share with the blogosphere. This story will be particularly interesting to the BYU undergraduate/BYU graduate demographic who reads my blog (which, in all honesty, is about 98% of my blog readers).

My history professor came in today telling us he had a story. It didn't have anything to do with what we learned about in class, but rather it was a test-run for when he will teach American Heritage in a few years--he wanted to kind of test the waters with smaller crowd before he stands up in front of 800 freshmen. 

While my history professor was at BYU during the late 1980s, he had a roommate who had a very particular set of criteria for the woman he wanted to marry. The roommate had two points that were essential for his future wife: 

1. She had to be 5'9" or taller. He was 6'2" and of a medium-build, and he wanted superstar basketball-playing children. He figured the only way he'd get them was if he married a tall woman. 

2. He wanted a woman that was strong, independent, and career-driven. 

Around this time, there was a letter-to-the-editor published in the Daily Universe. The letter was extremely misogynistic and sexist. The author of the letter complained that there were "too many women" on campus, and that they were taking up spaces that should have gone to men, since men were the ones that should be getting higher education in order to prepare for careers, and that it wasn't worth it to educate women. 

(Quick note: I've looked everywhere for a copy of this letter, but my Google skills have proved in vain so far. However, I do know that I've read this letter-to-the-editor . . . freshmen writing professors often use it as an example of rhetoric gone wrong and as a prompt for students to respond back to and get angry/passionate about. The first time I read it I was a training to be a tutor at the Writing Center and we were learning about what to do if we have to tutor a student who has written an extremely offensive paper . . . yes, a letter like this definitely counts as extremely offensive. Anyway, I know that this letter is still widely circulated, and many people on campus have read it.)  

annnnnnnd, we're back. Anyway, a student had written this extremely offensive and sexist letter-to-the-editor. My history professor didn't know anything about it--I guess he hadn't read the Daily Universe that day, and this was before the social media heyday. Today, if someone wrote a letter like that, it would be all over people's Facebook pages and he would be torn apart. Back in 1989, there wasn't an option like that. 

But there were house phones, and you could call the BYU operator and get anyone's number. 

So one evening, my history professor was just sitting at home when the phone rang. He answered it, and a woman's voice asked, 

"Is so-and-so [my history professor's roommate] there?" 

History Professor: "Yeah, I'll go get him." 

Once his roommate was on the phone, my history professor could only hear his side of the conversation. It went something like this: 

"Hello? [complete silence for a minute or two] Yeah. Oh yes, that's a good point. You have a really good point. This is really important. You know, I'd love to talk more about this with you. Is there a time that would work for you to go to lunch sometime this week and we could discuss this more?" 

They'd set a date, and then end the conversation. 

My history professor was really confused, so his roommate explained to him that . . . 

He was the one who wrote the offensive letter-to-the-editor! 

And it wasn't really what he believed at all! It was--

1) A social satire 

and 

2) A way to go on dates with the types of girls he was interested in! 

It was all a ploy! 

He wanted to meet strong-willed, driven, independent women, and this was his way of getting to meet the boldest-of-the-bold on BYU campus. He would take them to lunch, they'd talk, and then he'd be like, "You know, you've opened my eyes on this subject and I'd love to talk more with you sometime about this later. Could we meet again?" Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. 

But he did go out with about 10-15 of these women that called him. 

I was floored when I found out. I was laughing so hard. It's hilarious . . . and then unnerving at the same time. But I still can't get over the fact that this letter which is used to lambast narrow-minded thinkers was actually all a cunning, clever plan to meet women. I mean . . . wow. Just wow. Just--no words. 

So, there you have it. The true motives behind this letter-to-the-editor-fiasco.

By the way, since I know you're wondering, this guy did find a wife who was over 5'9" and who was smart, strong-willed, and career-driven. But it wasn't any of the women who called him. No, my history professor met a girl in his English class (which, by the way, is a good place to find determined women) who was 5'10" and who he thought would be a perfect match for his roommate. He set them up, they got married, and they have sons who are 6'6" and play basketball. 

On why I am a dork.

I'm up waiting to register for classes, so I figured it's a good time to write some blog posts.

I had some priceless moments today.

• First off, I think I'm really funny, so I laugh to myself as I walk to-and-from campus. Under my breath. Everyone thinks I'm crazy. Little do they know. 

• I'm a dork because I make a fool of myself at the grocery store. 

Case in point: Last week, my friends Amy, Sara, and I went to Smith's so that we could get food and not starve. Always a good option.

Well, Amy needed to grab something she had forgotten, and I decided I wanted to go with her (because we're both returned sister missionaries and sometimes still have companion withdrawals), but Sara decided that she wanted to stay by the cart. Cool. So we go and get the cranberries or Pop-tarts or whatever it was and go back to the cart . . . but Sara's not there. We shrug our shoulders and decide to go back down the aisles, looking for stuff we need, and then bring them back and wait for Sara. We're trying to save time, you know.

Well, after going past the milk and sour cream, I see what I need: yogurt. I love yogurt. It's like manna. I just love it. Especially lemon yogurt. I've recently been on a lemon yogurt kick. It's just soooo good.

Anyway. I saw the yogurt. And the lemon yogurt. And I needed it. Especially because yogurt was on sale for 10 delicious yogurts for $4. Need.

I start filling my hands with yogurts and then realize that I am not an octopus. Or an octo-mom. So I start putting yogurts in my purse, when Amy comes by and says, "Megan, are you stealing the yogurts?"

Does it look like I'm stealing the yogurts, Amy.

Oh wait. Yes. Yes, it does.

Another highlight of that grocery trip was running up and down the checkout aisles looking for Blue 5 Gum, when all they had was anything but Blue 5 Gum and I had to buy the gross Green 5 Gum. It is not as good. Just trust me on this one. You only want the blue gum.

This grocery trip today was much better. First, I did not steal yogurt. Second, there was Blue 5 Gum! And third, THEY SELL BELVITA COOKIES IN THE USA NOW! Be still my beating heart. BelVitas are the best things ever. Especially the hazelnut cookies. Oh. I might have just freaked out a little bit (read: a lot bit) when I saw those pretty cookies on the shelves.

• Remember how I think I'm really funny and like to laugh at myself? Well, my highlight of the evening was when I was texting some friends and being really clever. That can be a hard thing to do in texts. But I was pretty dang funny, if I do say so myself. So I was laughing to myself. 

Then I look up, and my roommate is in the kitchen, flashing me a peace sign and staring at me with this "you're crazy" look on her face. Apparently she'd been doing that for about a minute before I noticed her, all the while I was just chuckling to myself about how funny I am.

In my defense, it was a really funny text.

First day of school! First day of school!

I don't have anything profound to say in this post.

But I figured the first day of school merited a post. 

And not just any day of school. The first day of school post-mission. 

So weird. 

But surprisingly normal. 

Although sometimes my stomach does a somersault when I realize I've been gone for practically two years.  

And now for some random-ness. Because my thoughts have been a little helter-skelter lately. And because I just want to put these on my blog. My blog, my thoughts, my rules. 

What I really hope President Samuelson will say in the Devotional next week: 

"Another year full of magical education awaits you! Before we begin [. . .], I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you." 

[photo courtesy of fanpop.com]

I. would. die. laughing. 

What I feel like when I see a random acquaintance that I wasn't expecting to see on campus: 

[photo courtesy of quickmemes.com]

I'm serious, folks. What were the odds. 

What I REALLY feel like this year walking around campus: 

But seriously. Everyone I know is gone. They've either graduated, gotten married, or they're having babies. Such is the RM's life. All my friends are gone. All alone. Woe is me. 

And, just for good measure, a first day of school photo: 

 First-grade. I am cute.  

Happy first day of school! 

Matyroshka Goodness

Bah! Guys! Look at what I found the other day (and of course had to buy):

[photo courtesy of fredandfriends.com] 

They're measuring cups shaped like a матрёшка (matyroshka--the Russian stacking dolls). 

How cool is that? 

Answer: soooooo cool. 

I will be baking with these, thank you very much. [the white, plastic ones. NOT the hand-painted, wooden ones.]

And, just for kicks, here's a great sign we saw the other day at the Logan Temple: 

Don't park there. Just don't do it. 

Or else I will challenge you to a Soviet staring contest . . . 







and win. 

you've got to run to her, jonah!

Or, Why I am A Dork—Reason #135,609.

Today I was driving down to Provo to volunteer with the senior missionaries at the MTC. They needed people to help tutor Russian, and since I just got back from the former CCCP, and because I really miss Russian, I went over to help.

On the way down, I was just jamming to some tunes, cruising down University Avenue when something went weird with the radio. The song stopped and it sounded like there was an ad from the 1960s or something, with this lady speaking in sultry tones. Shto-takoe? I could not figure it out for the life of me, and I couldn’t get the radio to come back on.* So I tried turning up the volume, and realized: It was Baroness Schrader from The Sound of Music! Apparently, I had accidently turned on the movie player that we have in our van, and now I was listening to the movie without being able to see it.

But did I turn it off? Ohhhhhhhh, no.

Because, ladies and gentlemen, it was at a great part. 

[okay. let's be honest. All parts of The Sound of Music are wonderful. just humor me for a little bit.] 

Like I was saying, it was at a great part. 

Like, the part where Maria is gloomily wandering around the gazebo, all alone, and the Baroness and Captain Von Trapp are watching her, and the Captain finally, truly realizes that he loves Maria and breaks off his engagement with the Baroness and then goes down to Maria and they sing a love song and kiss and get engaged. 

That part, my friends. That. Part. 

So, I turned up the volume. Of course. 

And this may or may not have been what I was like while I was listening to the dialog:

The Baroness: “And somewhere out there . . . is a young lady who, I think . . . will never be a nun.”

Me: That’s right. Go to her, Captain. Go to her. Go to her right now and confess your love. Ruuuuuuuuun.

 Captain Von Trapp: You know, I was thinking and I was wondering two things: Why did you run away to the abbey? And what was it that made you come back? 

 Me: You know quite well why she came back. And you’re just dying because you want to hear her say it. Say it, Maria. Say it, say it.

 Maria: Well, I had an obligation to fulfill. . . and I came back to fulfill it. 

 Me: Ahhh! Just say you love him! Just say it!

 Captain: Is that all? 

 Me: Of course not. Oh, just ask her already. Just say it already. 

Maria: And I missed the children. 

Me: Bah! Oh, he’s dying here. 

Captain: Only the children? 

 Me: See? Dying. Like all of us here. The tension is killing me.

 Maria: No. Yes. Isn't it right that I missed them? 

 Captain: Oh, yes. Yes, of course. I was only hoping that perhaps you. . . . Perhaps you might. . . . 

 Me: Say it, say it! 

 Maria: Yes? 

 Captain: Well, nothing was the same when you were away. . . and it'll be all wrong again after you leave. . . and I just thought perhaps you might change your mind. 

 Me: Aww, that's sweet, but she still doesn’t know that you love her! Say it, man! Don’t be afraid! 

 Maria: Well, I'm sure the baroness will be able to make things fine for you.

 Me: Oh, she is hurt. She’s so confused. And she doesn’t want to be confused anymore.  

 Captain: Maria. . . . There isn't going to be any baroness. 

 Maria: There isn't? 

 Captain: No. 

 Me: Bingo! 

 Maria: I don't understand. 

 Captain: Well, you can't marry someone when you're. . . in love with someone else. . . can you? 

 Me: YES! Now kiss her! Kiss her! Oh, it’s just so beautiful. Ah. So beautiful. 

 Maria: The Reverend Mother always says:  "When the Lord closes a door, somewhere He opens a window." 

 Captain: What else does the Reverend Mother say? 

 Maria: That you have to look for your life. 

 Captain: Is that why you came back? And have you found it. . . Maria? 

 Maria: I think I have. I know I have. 

 Captain: I love you. 

 Maria: Oh, can this be happening to me? 

Me: dying here. Just dying from the sheer goodness and wonderfulness of this all. ahhhhhh. [good thing I was in the parking lot by this point so I could just relish the in the glory of this love story.]

Oookay. Freak out done. For now. But oh, it’s just so good. I might just be a *little* starved for a good chick flick after 18 months.

Love it. love, love, love it. Gah!

And after that, I went to teach some senior missionaries about using чтобы. Such is my life.

Climb every mountain. 

*I still have no idea how that video started playing. No idea. No idea at all.

Harry Potter Love

I stumbled upon this blog post today and can't stop laughing.

Look at this brilliance:

 {photo courtesy of yenniper.blogspot.com}

And this: 

 {also from yenniper.blogspot.com}

And my personal favorite:

{yenniper.blogspot.com}

Valentine's Day just became much more magical.