"The Jackals In Their Dens Tremble At Her Approach"

“Come on, Grandma!  Let’s play dress-up!”  So I used to say to my grandma as I breezed past her after lunch, galloping up the stairs as fast as my little legs would go.  Then I would burst into my mom’s old room and make a beeline to the wooden cabinet where my grandma kept a lot of her costume and fine jewelry.  I would sit next to her on the floor and together we would go through each drawer.  Soon we were both bedecked in amethyst rings, turquoise necklaces, and silver and gold bracelets.  I remember on one of these dress-up days Grandma pulled out a white box I had never seen before and I peered down eagerly, wondering what sparkling treasure would be nestled inside.

It was a huge lion’s claw.  The top of it was set in heavy gold and it hung from a long, thick golden chain. 

I remember my jaw dropping and Grandma tells me that my eyes got so big as I stared in wonder at it.  “Is it real, Grandma?”  At her affirmative, I asked if I could hold it.  She let me, and I ran my fingers carefully over the smooth surface, carefully touching the sharp tip.  “It’s your grandpa’s,” she told me.  I loved it.  I have always loved furs, naturalistic jewelry, precious stones and rocks, fossils, and claws and teeth of all different kinds of animals—even at that young of an age my imagination was captivated.

Later that afternoon I asked Grandpa if he would tell me the story of how he got the lion’s claw necklace, and here it is: When Grandpa was a young man he and a few other men went to Africa to hunt the dangerous animals that were overpopulating the areas where people lived.  “These animals, Dana,” he told me, “are not like they portray on television.  It’s like they are completely different species from what you’ve seen on TV or at the zoo.  When you encounter them in the jungle, like I have, and you look in their eyes you can feel their wildness.  They are primitive, feral.”  The claw came from the paw of the male lion that my grandpa killed.  When he came back to America, he had the claws turned into necklaces.  The one I had seen upstairs was the biggest of the bunch.

After that day, every time I played dress-up with my grandma, I would look for the lion’s claw and hold it for a while before putting it lovingly back in its box.  And even though it has been years since I have played dress-up, I have never forgotten the lion’s claw necklace.  A couple days ago during the family’s Christmas dinner party, Grandpa, Grandma and I were sitting together in the living room, chatting and laughing about all kinds of things.  Then my cousin Max came in to show us what Santa brought him for Christmas: a rifle.  It was so cool, and as I watched Grandpa hold it, I asked him to tell us again about his hunting trip in Africa (it had been many, many years since I had last heard the story).  “I remember the lion’s claw necklace, Grandpa,” I told him once he was finished.  “I remember how I used to hold it and look at it all the time when I was little.  It captured my imagination.  Maybe it’s the barbarian in me,” I laughed, “but I love that lion’s claw necklace.  It’s really awesome.”

I have a very special relationship with my grandparents.  We deeply understand each other and saying that we are best friends and kindred spirits doesn’t quite fully explain the profound and loving relationship we have.  Being the beautiful, generous souls that they are, my grandparents wanted to take me out to my favorite restaurant, PF Chang’s, for a celebratory lunch in honor of my completed MA degree and student teaching (my mom came too, which was really nice!).  When we were all seated, Grandma pulled a small box wrapped in golden paper with a shiny gold bow out of her purse and gave it to Grandpa.  Then he reached across the table to place it in my hands, saying, “Here’s an old Moroccan Proverb that suits you now that you’ve accomplished so much and will continue to do so: ‘The lions in their dens tremble at h[er] approach.’”  I grinned and in my mind, I thought, No way.  Not quite daring to believe, I carefully unwrapped the box, opened it, and there nestled inside was the lion’s claw necklace I’d loved for so many years.  I remember exclaiming and looking up at them, fingers tracing the familiar smoothness and sharp tip.  “We wanted you to have this, Dana,” Grandma said.  Gratitude welled up in my heart because the necklace represents so much to me and I thanked them both.  Grandpa smiled and asked, “Do you want to wear that now?”  “Of course!” I replied, clasping it securely around my neck.  Then Grandpa said, “Maybe this is more fitting for you: ‘The jackals in their dens tremble at her (the lioness’s) approach’—the lioness is you!”  “I like that, Grandpa,” I laughed, pressing the claw against my heart.  “I am a Leo, after all!” 

I couldn’t stop fingering the lion’s claw necklace—now my lion’s claw necklace—as my mom and I drove home.  I was so happy and so appreciative and so aware of their pride in me and their love for me that I began to cry.  The lion’s claw necklace is so much more than just a necklace: it symbolizes my grandparents’ strength, their courage, their generosity, and their love.  I haven’t taken the necklace off all day.  And whenever I wear it in the future I will always think of them.

Me and my lion's claw necklace.  Maybe I should think of a name for it!

<3

Gone, Yet Still With Me

Anne McCaffrey, one of my very favorite authors, passed away back in November.  When my brother told me the news, I remember tears filling my eyes—I couldn’t believe that she was no longer with us, writing her incredible tales.  She really was—and is—the Queen of Science Fiction.  Anne has transformed the SciFi genre into something completely new and exciting by creating worlds and characters that both men and women can relate to and love as if they are real places and people.

When I was in seventh grade, Grandpa bought me Anne’s Dragonflight, the first novel in her Dragonriders of Pern series.  I was instantly captivated by the cover which depicts a huge, golden dragon soaring across a vibrant green sky with a glowing red planet seemingly pulsing in the background.  I remember wondering who the dragon and the young woman riding it were so I eagerly turned to the first page and was instantly transported to a world unlike any other I had ever visited before:

A lush and beautiful world called Pern where gold, bronze, brown, blue and green dragons live in rapport with the women and men they bond with.  I had never read a story before where dragons, when they are born, choose a man or woman to be theirs, and once they have chosen, their minds are so profoundly linked with their humans’ that they can communicate mentally with them and feel everything the other feels.  And when the female dragons (gold and green) rise to mate with the males (bronze, brown and blue)…well, let me tell you (one romantic to another) it gets pretty darn steamy since their humans are linked mentally with them down on the ground, experiencing what they are experiencing…it’s enough to make me blush.  The Pernese men and women and their dragons share and experience everything together.  It’s like they are two halves of one soul, or two souls made one—one cannot live without the other once the bond is made at the dragon’s birth, and once the bond is made, it cannot be undone.  I had never read a story before where the dragons are always the “good guys,” battling a constant threat in the form of deadly spores that rain down from the sky—silvery, deadly spores that burn and absorb anything organic they touch, turning vegetation to barren wastelands—by using their ability to breathe fire, searing them from the sky before they can reach the ground.  I had never read a story before where dragons could teleport not just between places but between times as well (yes, I said time travel).  I had never read a story before that combined elements of both fantasy and science fiction so effortlessly that it created an entirely new genre of its own.  And, come to think of it, I had never read a story before where I actually forgot I was reading because the world of Pern, its dragons and its characters became so real to me—and are still so very real to me to this day.

Dragonflight by Anne McCaffrey
The golden dragon is Ramoth and her rider is Lessa
Painting by Michael Whelan

I have lived and breathed this series that spans seventeen novels and many short stories for years.  Every time I read it it’s like I’m visiting old friends.  I have collected all of the novels in hardcover and softcover.  I own all of the Collector’s and Book Club editions of the novels.  I met Anne in person quite a few years ago and she signed the well-read and well-loved copy of Dragonflight Grandpa gave me.  Because Anne is the inspirational woman that she is, in middle school I began dabbling in creative writing by inventing my own dragonrider characters, penning down their stories and making illustrations to go along with them (sadly I can’t find those stories but I still have many of the drawings).  When I was in high school I joined an online Pern-based writing club—one of the few that had been officially approved by Anne herself—and created, very thoroughly I might add, my own dragonrider characters and wrote their stories alongside many other talented and devoted fans.  I poured my heart and soul into many of the storylines I created with the other club members, and like Anne’s characters, my own became just as real.  (I hope to return to the club and my characters one day!) 

When you love a fictional—and yet real—world like Pern with all your heart and when you devote so much creative energy to play in that world…it’s hard to describe just how much it becomes a part of you.  To know that the creator of Pern is no longer with us is very sad and my heart ached when my brother told me she had passed on.  However, I really can’t be too sad because she lives on in her novels and short stories, and because I know that her soul is certainly in a much better place now—and she is probably blissfully soaring across the astral heavens on her own golden dragon even as I write this.

Anne McCaffrey

<3

Finis

“Hi, is this Doris?”

“Yes it is.”

“Oh hi, it’s Dana.  I forgot if I was supposed to call you today or tomorrow for the Comps scores.”

“Oh, well I have them right here in front of me, if you want to know…”

*deep breath*  “Sure!  Let’s hear it.”

“Let’s see…  Dana…  You got a pass.”

“I passed?”

“You passed!”

“I passed!”

Me and Molly right after taking the Comps
We both passed!

Well, my friends, after 19 years, I’m finally done with school!  This semester I have completed the English Literature Masters Program by finishing up my last class (hooray for Beowulf!) and by passing the Comps exam with my dear friend Molly by my side; and at the same time I have also completed the Multiple Subject Credential Program for teaching grades K-8.  To all those who think that you can’t complete both programs at the same time: you can.  If you have the will, the patience to apply yourself, and a positive attitude, you can.  I have.  But it certainly wasn’t a cake walk.  I worked very hard for the last two and a half years.  This last semester was perhaps the hardest I have ever worked.  I didn’t draw and I didn’t read for fun and I didn’t have a social life outside my one masters class and student teaching.  I lived in my own world of constant lesson planning, teaching, TPA3 and TPA4 preparation and writing, Beowulf-reading and essay writing, and Comps exam preparation.  The week before Thanksgiving was the week where I began sprinting toward the end of the semester because all TPAs and essays were due and the Comps test date was looming—and I made it!  So it’s possible, guys.  I’m living proof!  I want to thank all of those who have supported and encouraged me through this final semester: God, my dear family, my master teachers Donna and Vickie, my professors Dr. van Elk, Ilan, and Mimi, my dearest friends (you all know exactly who you are :D), and my awesome student teacher girls Kasey, Kari and Jenny.  I couldn’t have done it without all of you—thank you!

Me and Donna

I’ve grown up so much in this last year, and especially in this last semester.  I’ve discovered new strengths I didn’t even know I had until I was taking charge of 30 first graders and 33 sixth graders.  And I’ve discovered that I really love teaching—especially the little ones.  Before I started student teaching I wasn’t sure if I would even like teaching.  I remember being so nervous about embarking on this journey that I didn’t sleep much my last weekend of summer vacation because I was fretting so.  It turns out that all the anxiety I felt was unnecessary.  My experiences in both primary grade and upper grade were wonderful.  I love both my master teachers.  I love the kids.  I love the school environment.  I love teaching.  The principal of the last elementary school I was at has given me paperwork to become a sub for the district and I am well on my way to making my subbing license official (as are the rest of my student teacher friends who completed this amazing journey with me)! 

Jenny, Kasey, Phoenix, Vickie, Me, Michelle and Kari

So what’s next for me now that I’m done with school?  Well, getting my subbing license is first on the list.  Passing the RICA is next.  Then getting a full-time job with (hopefully!) a primary grade.  But until then?  Right now I’m basking in the glow of knowing that I’m done with school.  I’m really enjoying Christmas vacation (I’ve just finished decorating the Christmas tree!  I wound over 1,500 lights within the branches and lovingly nestled all my favorite ornaments in perfect places while I sang along to Celine Dion’s Christmas album).  I’ve been mentally and physically resting.  I’ll be getting back to exercising and eating more healthy.  I’m working on commissions and I’ll finally be drawing for myself again.  I’ll be reading novels that are on the “Once I’m Done With School” list.  I’ll be hanging out with my friends.  I’ll be going to work at my family’s company and I’ll be thanking God every day that I have a job. 

One phase of my life is over and a new one is just beginning.  Every time I think about the future ahead of me I get so excited.  Bring it, world!  :)

<3

My Journey with Harry Potter

Everyone has their Harry Potter story.  This is mine.

My long and epic journey with Harry Potter began back in 1997 and I have my dear Grandpa to thank for it.  He had always—and still does—encourage my love of reading.  When I was a little girl he’d take me to Barnes and Noble (then called Bookstar) and would set me loose among the shelves to find novels I wanted to read.  After watching me browse, he would get a feel for what genres I liked and would go on his own hunt for me…and would eventually come back with his arms full of all kinds of books.  Together we would kneel down in an aisle and would go through the back of each one.  Grandpa would always help fill my basket up—sometimes we even needed two!  It was Grandpa who had heard about the new British author, JK Rowling, and how her book Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone had captured the hearts and imaginations of so many children.  Since Grandpa knew I loved books with magic in them, he went to Bookstar on his own one day and bought Sorcerer’s Stone and gave it to my mom to give to me. 

It was one of the best presents Grandpa has ever given me.  Harry Potter isn’t just a book series.  It’s so much more than that.  It’s a phenomenon, and I’m not sure how you can explain a phenomenon.  I know I can’t really find the words to explain how much the series means to me and why.  It’s a mystery, it’s magical, and it’s a story in which you can connect emotionally with each character, whether they are major or minor.  It’s a story about good and evil, love, loyalty, bravery, and sacrifice.  When I first started reading it I could not put it down.  I remember staying up long past my bedtime because I had to unravel the magical mystery of Harry Potter.

As the years passed and I got older, Harry got older with me.  When the fourth book came out a couple of my childhood friends, my brother, my mom and I went to Barnes and Noble for the first ever Harry Potter midnight book release.  I remember the employees pushing giant carts filled with nothing but copies the book down the aisles to the cash registers—but the tops were covered because the dustjacket and title were supposed to remain a secret and a surprise for everyone until the stroke of midnight.  I remember being absolutely delighted with the cover once it was unveiled, and we all were trying to predict what would happen and who the new characters were on the ride home.  When we all got back to my house that night we read together for at least an hour before going to bed. 

As I entered into high school the first movie came out in theatres and the fandom reached a new, incredible high.  I’m proud to say that I have taken part in every part of Harry fandom, have taken an actual Harry Potter class to fulfill a GE requirement during undergrad, and have gone to all the midnight premiers of the movies and the books.  I have three very favorite Harry Potter memories.  One was when I went to the midnight book release of Deathly Hallows.  I went to the Bella Terra Barnes and Noble Harry Potter party with my high school friends, my cousin and my brother and we all had a blast!  The store was decked out in Harry Potter decorations: banners of the four houses were hung from the balcony and golden snitches were hung from every ceiling panel.  People, young and old, either came in Harry Potter-themed home-made or Hot Topic shirts or came in costume—one kid even brought his pet snake!  When the clock stuck twelve pandemonium erupted in the store.  The excitement and happiness was palpable—and you should have seen the parking lot!  Hundreds of people were milling around the outside of the store, waiting for those who had reserved copies to hurry up and finish purchasing so they could have their turn.  Both my brother and I stayed up into the wee hours of the morning that night to read it—and we both finished it the following night.  I remember weeping non-stop during the last few chapters.  My bed was riddled with Kleenex and I can remember my heart breaking when I finally learned the Prince’s Tale, when Fred, Lupin and Tonks died, when Harry spoke to the spirits of his dead family and friends before going to Voldemort to die, and when Dumbledore came to Harry at King’s Cross. 

In the same year that Deathly Hallows was released, my brother and I were two of 2,000 people who won tickets from Scholastic to go meet JK Rowling and have a book signed at the Carnegie Hall in New York.  That was an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that I will never forget! 

My third favorite memory was going to the midnight premier of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part II last week.  I went with two of my dearest friends, Sam and Molly, and Molly’s family.  I decided to bake Harry Potter “Puppet Pals” cupcakes for the occasion and as I baked I remembered how bittersweet it had been to hold the final book in my hands back in 2007 because I knew it would be the last time I’d be adventuring with Harry, Ron and Hermione.  But at the time I had consoled myself with the fact that there were still the movies to look forward to—but now the movies are over.  I enjoyed every moment of waiting in line for the movie that night—even though I was very aware that it was the last Harry Potter event, I didn’t let it subdue me.  It was so much fun to talk with my friends about our favorite moments in the books and movies, to take pictures with the giant cardboard cutouts of the characters, and watch those who had come in costume.  Some guy dressed up as a dementor battled it out with a stormtrooper.  Yes, a stormtrooper.  From Star Wars.  It was hilarious!

The movie itself was amazing.  We fans cheered when we recognized the famous lines characters had said in the book (such as Molly Weasley’s “Not my daughter, you bitch!” to Bellatrix), and we wept when Snape was murdered, when Harry gathered his tears, and when we saw into his memories of his relationship with Lily.  Alan Rickman is incredible and he will always be Snape—no other actor could ever be him.  Ever.  Tears streamed down my cheeks when Snape held Lily’s lifeless body in his arms and I had to pull out the Kleenex from my purse and share it with my girls. 

Once the movie ended and the credits started rolling the applause was deafening.  We were all laughing and wiping away our tears and I remember just living in the moment, soaking it all in, since it was the last time all the fans and friends would be together united in Harry Potter love. 

Thank you, Jo Rowling, for a wonderful 14 years.  I have stuck with Harry until the very end and have enjoyed every moment.  You’ve created a world that is unique and special and I consider myself blessed to have been a part of the magic.

<3

Awesome Memories

Well, my second Spring semester as a grad student is almost over and I’m rather sad to see it end!  I have had so much fun this Spring—from science field trips such as boating on a stormy day, visiting tide pools and petting swell sharks (yes, I did pet actual sharks, and no, I wasn’t scared!), to my friends and I laughing over discovering what is probably one of the first “yo mamma” insults ever in one of our Renaissance plays The White Devil by John Webster…it all has been an absolute blast!  Sure, I experienced stress, just like I do every semester (this time around was perhaps a little more stressful than usual because I took five classes, two language, one English Lit and two more for my teaching credential, all of them work-intensive, and on top of all of this I also worked 20+ hours a week).  But all of the stress I went through was totally worth it because of all the laughs and good times my friends and I shared.

As I have told my girls, all I remember of last semester is darkness.  But new and bright light came back into my campus life this Spring and I have God, my family and dear friends to thank for that!  I’ve been so happy this semester and I’m really going to miss sitting and chatting outside LA1 and LA2 with my friends, soaking up the sunshine while sipping on my nonfat white chocolate mocha (or my sweetened iced green tea!).  I’m going to miss the late night Tuesday librarybucks chatting dates with Molly and the spontaneous runs to Deli News for $5 medium pepperoni pizzas.  I’m going to miss the random, spur-of-the-moment lunch dates with Danaé, “What’s Happening Hour” with Bobbie and chillin’ out with Sam.  I’m going to miss frantically trying to finish the reading I couldn’t get done the night before an hour before class starts—and then, after reading as far as I could, getting the Melissa-ized version for the rest!  I’m going to miss Kat’s sweetness and snark, Melissa’s and Rachel’s stories, and the discussions Erin and I have about American Girl, men, Harry Potter, and retail therapy.  In fact, I’m going to miss all of the conversations I share with my girls!  I’m going to miss the fun science experiments, such as making ice cream using nothing but spoons, plastic bags, sugar, vanilla, milk, rock salt and ice.  I'm going to miss my professors teasing me.  I’m going to miss the hilarious times in my Spanish class and the “I can’t believe this is real life” looks my tablemates and I shared during our math class.  I’m going to miss Old English (not necessarily the translating part…I could do without that ;D) and the great one-liners my professor had (“thinky thing,” anyone?) and the conversations about how Beowulf and Grendel’s mother are like the pro-wrestlers we see on TV, ninjas fighting unicorns, unicorns fighting ninjas, and how the Anglo-Saxon people are misconstrued by the general public as hoards of peasants eating turnips.

Oh, how I love school!  I’m going to miss it so much when I finally graduate with my masters and teaching credential next year.  But I will forever have these awesome memories to take with me on my journey through my adult life and I’m sure they’ll make me beam with just as much joy then as they make me do now.

PS: In case you want to read one of the first ever “yo mamma” insults…

Monticelso [to Vittoria]:   I shall be plainer with you, and paint out

                                       Your follies in more natural red and white

                                       Than that upon your cheek.

Vittoria:   Oh, you mistake.

               You raise a blood as noble in this cheek

               As ever was your mother’s.

(3.2.51-56)

Love it.

<3

I'm an American Girl Who Loves American Girl!

My love for the American Girl doll collection started when I was a little girl in second (or was it third?) grade.  Back then when American Girl was still owned by Pleasant Company before the Mattel buy-out there were only five dolls and their sets of stories you could collect.  Each doll represented an era of American history:

1)      Felicity Merriman: a spunky, spritely girl growing up in Virginia in 1774, just before the Revolutionary War. Felicity grows impatient doing the "sitting-down kinds of things" that colonial girls are expected to do. She much prefers to be outdoors, especially riding horses! Felicity learns about loyalty and responsibility - to her family, her friends, and her country - and what it means to be truly independent.

2)      Kirsten Larson: a pioneer girl of strength and spirit growing up in Minnesota in 1854. After a long, dangerous voyage with her family from Sweden to America, Kirsten finds it difficult to get used to a new country and a new way of life. But as she makes friends and discovers what her new land has to offer, she learns the true meaning of home.

3)      Addy Walker: a proud, courageous girl who escapes from slavery with her mother in 1864. Together they embark on a dangerous journey to the North, hoping one day to reunite their family. Addy learns to read and write, makes new friends, and discovers what being free really means.

4)      Samantha Parkington: a bright, compassionate girl living with her wealthy grandmother in 1904. It's an exciting time of change in America, and Samantha's world is filled with frills and finery, parties and play. But Samantha sees that times are not good for everybody. That's why she tries to make a difference in the life of her friend Nellie, a servant girl whose life is nothing like Samantha's.

5)      Molly McIntire: a lively, lovable schemer and dreamer growing up in 1944. The world is at war, and she misses her father who is overseas caring for wounded soldiers. Molly doesn't like many of the changes the war has brought, like rationing rubber, eating turnips for dinner, and not seeing Dad on Christmas. But she learns the importance of getting along and pulling together - just as her country must do to win the war.

(Descriptions courtesy of http://curtdanhauser.com/AG_Collecting/Main.html)

When I was little I really wanted the Kirsten doll and my family gave her to me for either my birthday or for Christmas—I can’t remember which.  But I do remember the absolute excitement and happiness I felt when I opened the box and saw that I finally had my very own American Girl Kirsten doll.  My friends and I all had dolls from American Girl and we would always play with them.  We were creative girls and we took our dolls on adventures through beautiful, enchanted forests and magical landscapes that were inhabited by faeries, unicorns, gryphons, various other mythical creatures, and animals that could talk.  I took very good care of Kirsten and of course I still have her, her books, and many of her original outfits and accessories.

Inevitably, as these things happen when you’re growing up, I stopped collecting American Girl and found new hobbies to explore (such as model horse collecting, among other things).  But I always had a soft spot for American Girl.  Whenever I would see the books in Barnes and Noble, or when I would come across a catalogue in the mail, or when I would see Kirsten tucked safely away in my closet, I would get a little wistful and remember all the fun times I had playing with her.  I knew then that when I had children (hopefully a daughter or two!) I would want them to play with her and create their own wonderful American Girl memories. 

When I was in eighth grade my whole class and I went to the east coast and traveled from Williamsburg all the way up to New York City in two weeks.  We explored all of the major historical sites and I absolutely loved them all!  My favorites, though, were Williamsburg, Mt. Vernon and Monticello.  It was on this trip where the love that I have now for the Revolutionary War era of American history blossomed.  Ever since the East Coast Trip I’ve loved studying and reading about the Founding Fathers and the birth of my beloved country.  I remember the fleeting thought passing through my mind when I was traversing the Williamsburg grounds: I should have been more into Felicity when I was little!  While I love Kirsten and her story, Felicity is really the doll that represents the period of American history that I love the most.  And so, as I graduated eighth grade, I got it into my head to buy my own Felicity when I was older.

 Flash forward to ten years later...

A couple weeks ago, my friend Erin and I were reminiscing about American Girl (it turns out she was just as into all of the dolls as I was!).  I shared with her that I really wanted to buy Felicity one day, especially since I found out last year that American Girl was going to retire her soon.  (American Girl has slowly been retiring all the historical dolls and is going more mainstream with their sales of modern-day dolls that “can look like you!”  It makes me a little sad to see all of the historical dolls, who were such a wonderful part of my childhood, disappear year by year).  I told Erin this and she told me she wanted to buy Felicity too!  The next day I saw Erin’s message on my facebook wall: “I can’t find Felicity on the American Girl website!  Is she gone??  PANIC!”  I rushed over to the site to check—and sure enough, Felicity was gone.  Just like that.  Retired.  No longer available anywhere!

Except on ebay.  You can find anything on ebay.

So I then rushed over to ebay and did a little research on the Felicity doll, both the pre-and-post-Mattel models.  After a day or so of debating with myself over whether I should buy her or not now, I decided to commit to a purchase (as did Erin!).  Since Felicity is now retired, her value as a collector’s doll is going up—and will continue to do so as the years go on.  So, with a beaming smile, I bought an original Pleasant Company pre-Mattel Felicity doll and excitedly awaited her arrival for a whole week.

My friends, Felicity finally came yesterday!  She really is a beautiful doll with a pretty, round face, lovely green eyes and bright copper-red hair. 

Erin and I have decided that we are going to continue collecting Felicity’s original outfits and accessories.  We’re really excited about owning Felicity (finally!) and starting our American Girl collections back up.  I have such wonderful memories of American Girl when I was a little girl playing in my room and out in the backyard with my elementary school friends, and it will be so fun to create brand new American Girl memories with more friends as an adult.  Erin already has a great ebay story about how she got into an intense bidding war with someone else over Felicity’s Christmas gown—I’m sure there will be many more stories like that in the future!  I can’t wait to share all of these stories and my love of American Girl with my future daughter(s) one day.

<3

(Reposted, since blogger crashed and lost it the first time around!)

A Precious Moment

I love kids.  I always have.  When I was a little girl in grade school we had to dress up for career day.  My friends dressed up as nurses, doctors, firefighters, dancers, astronauts, zookeepers—all kinds of exciting things.  But I didn’t want to be any of those.  I already knew what I wanted to be when I grew up: a wife and a mother.  I still want that.  It’s a life full of fun and excitement, challenges, passion, giving, and unconditional love, and I want it more than anything else in the world. 

Until I do get married and am a mother to my own children I’ve picked a career path that will have me surrounded by kids—I’m so excited for it!  I also have a few friends who are mothers so whenever I get to see them I get to be with their sons and daughters and I love that too.  Children warm my heart and I can’t imagine not having them in my life.  Since I’m around kids so often I’m sure I’ll have a few blog posts that describe my moments with them…and here’s my first.

Yesterday was Good Friday.  To honor the day my family and I do not have work, but instead of sleeping in that morning I went to school to meet with my Old English professor about my term paper.  As I walked into his office I looked around and grinned to myself.  Like my bookshelves at home his are also lined with toys—but his toys are knights in shining armor riding on horses.  You know you’re in good company when your professor keeps things like this in his office.  Anyway, as I was waiting for him to finish his phone conversation, I heard the clip-clop of little booted feet coming down the hall.  I peeked around the corner of one of the bookcases to see who was outside and it was one of my friends from class with her four-year-old son.  He is seriously the sweetest little boy I have ever spent time with—and he was wearing the red boots from his Halloween costume!  Of course that made me smile even more and I knelt down to give him a hug.  We all three talked outside in the hall until our professor finished his phone call then he ushered us inside. 

My friend told us that her son wanted to meet our professor and so, clutching his mom’s hand, he shyly introduced himself.  Our professor grinned and then introduced himself, asking: “Do you like to play with toys?”  The little boy nodded, “Yes.”  And our professor said, “Me too.  But you know what’s sad?  I really don’t have much time to play anymore because I’m so busy.”  He got up from his chair and picked up from the top of his bookcase one of the knights in shining armor.  “This is one of my favorite toys that I don’t have time to play with anymore.  I want you to play with it for me.  And you know what?  This knight doesn’t even have a name yet so you get to name him.”  Then he gave the toy to the boy, whose eyes were so full of pure wonder and happiness that it made my heart ache a little bit.  It was so sweet to see our professor connect with my friend’s son in this way and it seriously was the highlight of my whole day and one of the best moments of the semester.  Even now when I think about it I smile.

Children find pure happiness in the simplest of things and this is part of the reason why I love being around them so much.  Their precious happiness and delight is infectious and it warms my heart and makes me just as happy.  Really, what’s not to love?

<3 

"The whole world's on fire, isn't it?"...

…says Cora Munro to her lover Nathaniel in The Last of the Mohicans.  The movie’s powerful theme crescendos in the background, overriding the canon blasts, musket shots and screams of the wounded and dying.  They hold on tight to one another through the bars of the prison cell, Cora pressing her face against Nathaniel’s shoulder as he grasps the back of her neck, tangling his fingers in her dark hair.  The blazing fire outside the fort lights their faces in an orange glow.

This is one of the many quotes—and scenes—of this movie that sends shivers down my spine.  I love The Last of the Mohicans (the theatrical cut, not the director’s cut.  There is a difference, I promise you).  The writing is wonderful.  The directing is well done.  The scenery is beautiful.  The acting is superb.  The music is gorgeous.  I actually grew up with its beautiful soundtrack.  Some of my earliest memories as a child are of being in the car with my mom and listening to the soundtrack on cassette tape.  When I was in middle school I finally watched Mohicans with my parents and instantly fell in love with Nathaniel, Cora, Uncas, Alice, Chingachgook and even Duncan.  I watched with bated breath as the romance between Cora and Nathaniel slowly unfolded (yes, I was even a romantic then!)—and I still watch with bated breath as if I’m watching it for the first time all over again.  I’m the kind of romantic who appreciates the conversation between the man and the woman and how that is far more important than anything physical that happens between them.  I also love when the meaningful looks the lovers share are so charged with raw emotion that they are more significant than a kiss.  This is the kind of romance that exists between Nathaniel and Cora.  Later on in the movie they do kiss, but that is all they do—the physical never overshadows their true love for each other. 

Mohicans is the type of movie that is becoming rarer in today’s world: it promotes the love of freedom, and liberty from tyranny; it promotes intellectual and true love over physical lust; it promotes doing what is right over what is easy; and it promotes morality, strength, courage, honor, selflessness, quiet dignity and integrity in man’s actions.  Nathaniel is the kind of man I’m very much attracted to.  I know he’s a fictional character but the rules of honor and integrity and strength he lives by are not fabricated, and I know that there are men out there who do embody those qualities I admire and want in a husband.  Nathaniel’s love for Cora really does take my breath away when I’m watching the movie.  He respects her as much as she respects him and it is from this respect that their love grows and deepens.  It’s truly beautiful to watch.

My family and I watched Mohicans earlier this evening.  It’s one of the only movies that I will lay still and watch all the way through without getting up for any reason.  I won’t even talk during it because any disruption ruins the poignancy of each scene—especially the last 10 minutes of the movie.  That last scene is one of the most powerful of any movie I’ve ever seen.  I don’t think I even breathe during it—those of you who have seen it know why.  For those of you who haven't seen it, it is sort of like Gladiator.  It has that power that keeps you captivated until the very end.  And just like Gladiator, you can’t just get up and leave when it's over—you have to stay and silently watch the credits and appreciate the beautiful music and the feelings the movie leaves you with.  Tonight was no different for us.  After the movie ended and the credits started rolling, my family and I were quiet for a long while, silently watching the credits and listening to the music and allowing our thoughts to linger on the feelings this movie provokes in each of us.

If you haven’t seen this movie you really should watch it—but make sure it’s the theatrical version, not the director’s cut.  You won’t regret it, I promise.

<3 

LOST

The almost-tropical weather we have been having today—blue skies and bright sunshine instantly turning into dark clouds and rain—reminded me of something I’ve really been missing this Spring: LOST.  

Yes, the TV show. 

I’m not sure if I can call myself a Lostie like I call myself a Phile (a hardcore X-Files fan) but I love LOST.  Back in 2005, Grandma asked me if I was watching “this new show called LOST.”  I admitted that I hadn’t seen any of the episodes but I’d heard great things.  I remember her saying to me, “Oh, Dana!  It’s really good!  You should give it a shot.”  Seeing as how I’m always open to watching all kinds of shows, and knowing that this show was acclaimed for its deep character development and its elements of mystery and science fiction (everything that I enjoy!), I decided to follow her advice and get into it.  So for my birthday that summer I asked for LOST Season 1.  On that warm summer night in late August my family and I settled down in the den to watch it and we didn’t (couldn’t!) stop that night until we finished disc one. 

I was floored by how addicting the show was.  I just couldn’t get enough!  After finishing Season 1 on DVD, my mom, dad, brother and I began watching it religiously together on live TV.  I fell in love with the characters: from the reluctant but strong leader Jack to the ambiguous Kate to the bad boy Sawyer to the sadistic Other Ben to the Other-turned-good Juliet—all of them.  The flashbacks of these characters’ lives before the plane crash became just as important as the current trekking-through-the-jungle-avoiding-monsters-death-and-the-mysterious-Others-while-desparately-searching-for-a-way-off-the-Island plotline.  Each episode focuses on one of the characters.  Their flashbacks and the current Island plotline are woven together with a themed symbolism and purpose that I find innovative and provocative.  The characters of LOST are not one-dimensional.  Each flashback (and in later seasons, each flashforward) and action they take in the Island plotline adds layer after layer after layer to their personalities, making them real people who are good and flawed, who have loved and suffered, who have gained and lost.  They are not black and white—they are shades of grey.  I think that is definitely part of the reason why I fell in love with all of them and why everyone who loves the show can relate to them—because we are all shades of grey.

LOST is a show that is character-driven which is the number one reason why I love it so.  But I love it for its mysteries too, both explained and unexplained.  I mean, smoke monsters?  Ghosts?  Polar bears roaming around the jungle?  Miracles?  Immortality?  Time travel?  You can’t get much better than that!  I also love it for its complicated storylines that took me on a whirlwind of a wild ride.  It’s definitely not a fluff show.  To quote my professor, it is a “thinky thing” because it challenges your perceptions.  It didn’t really irk me that not everything was explained by the series finale.  I felt that the way it ended, with unraveling threads and loose ends, was fitting for a show that was renowned for its ambiguity. 

This is my first Spring since 2006 without LOST to look forward to every week and I really do miss it.  I miss the feeling of excitement that used to come over me when it was 15 minutes til 9:00.  I miss settling down on the sofa with my family around me, chatting about the last episode and theorizing about the mysteries unexplained.  I miss talking to my friends about each week’s episode, exclaiming over the events that occurred and wondering what in the world was going to happen next.  I’ve missed LOST so much that my family and I have started the series over again since we own the seasons on DVD.  I love revisiting all the characters and reliving their stories with them.  Even though I know what is going to happen next, I still find myself biting my lower lip nervously, clutching my blanket to my chest, sometimes groaning and snarling at the TV, and, yes, sometimes wiping away a tear or two—it’s a sign of an excellent show.

There will never be another show like LOST.  Never.  I count myself fortunate to have, in a way, grown up with it.  If you haven’t watched it I recommend that you, to quote my Grandma, “give it a shot.”

<3

Friendship

I work with my family and this is awesome because I love them dearly and I’m very close with them all.  It’s so fun to be able to see my Grandpa every day and I’m blessed to have him in my life.  He knows me well—he can look at me and he can tell how I’m feeling in that moment.  It’s like he knows my thoughts.  I must have had a certain expression on my face this morning because he looked at me for a long moment, got a mischievous twinkle in his eye and then said something that made me burst out laughing.  He said exactly what I needed to hear in that moment to lighten my mood.  I honestly don’t know what I’d do without him.  Grandpa is a true friend to me, as is my mom and dad, Grandma, brother, my uncle, aunt and my little cousins.  And I started reflecting on why this was since I’ve been thinking a lot about friendship over the last few months.  

I’ve come to realize a lot of things over the years about friends and what makes a friend a true friend.  A true friend loves unconditionally.  A true friend is loyal.  A true friend is intuitive and doesn’t take advantage of you or manipulate you in any way.  A true friend doesn’t betray you.  A true friend respects you for everything you are and doesn’t try to change you—encourage you to be a better person, yes, but not try to manipulate and twist you into something you aren’t.  A true friend listens.  A true friend wants the best for you, always, and is a positive influence in your life.  A true friend isn’t jealous of you.  Of course we all have tendencies to be a little envious of our friends sometimes.  That’s just human nature.  We all experience the kind of wistful envy of wanting what the other has.  When I experience that wistful envy I allow myself the fleeting thought and then I make the effort to move past it.  I’ve known people who did not move past the envy and allowed the green monster to fester.  If envy is allowed to fester in one friend, that friendship becomes infected.  How can you be a true friend if the friendship is tainted?  I don’t think it’s possible.  You can make all the effort in the world to be a good friend to that person but if there is jealousy festering in the other person then you can’t call them a friend.  You just can’t.  Eventually the jealousy will dominate and that person will end up making the conscious decision to hurt you in different ways.  When this happens they are no longer giving you the respect you deserve.  I’m not saying that jealousy and disrespect are always linked, but most of the time these two things are closely intertwined. 

It is a person’s actions that show you who they are as a friend, not their words.  They can say that they are your friend, but you’ll know by the way they treat you whether it’s true or not.  Then, knowing what you know, it’s up to you whether you’re going to keep them in your life or acknowledge that the friendship has run its course and then slowly let it fade away.

Knowing what I know, I’m making the best effort I can to be a true friend.

<3