Secret of Life #1. Stephenie Meyer.
Her literate artistry is incredible. A BYU English graduate, a wife, a mother, and a woman who wrote a book just to entertain, just to give as a gift to her sister… has now written a four-book series that is being compared to the likes of Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. And it has sucked me in, along with the rest of the female population.
The latest (and last) read: Breaking Dawn. I am not yet finished with the fictional masterpiece, but sacrificed my couch potato Olympic-watching routine last night to do some pleasure reading; (especially before Monday rolls around when Stephenie Meyer’s name will become covered in dust and 1000-page hardcover textbooks will occupy my nightstand’s reading options).
With my eyelids growing very heavy and the chin’s usual perkiness sinking into my chest, I had to put the book down and get some shut-eye. Seven hours later (my bare minimum, by the way) I awake begrudgingly and remember not only do I not know the Volturi’s verdict in the Cullen’s conflict (because the necessity of sleep is so not understood), but it is also my last wakeful morning to go to work at St. Mark’s hospital. Disappointment, all around.
May be a less than hopeful morning, but tonight? Dinner with girlfriends and Grandma.. and DANCING. Everyone welcome. Studio 600, 10pm, and a guaranteed clan of four long-legged women. Who can pass that up?
Secret of Life #2. Jack Johnson.
After an hour and a half journey from Citris Grill in Salt Lake to the USANA Amphitheatre in West Jordan, we ran, literally, with blankets in tow to see the magic of the beach-tunes originality of Mr. Johnson. Relaxing on blankets, sipping on fruit smoothies, and star-gazing into the night sky, Jack was definitely not the center of my attention, but more like the perfect background music. The company with which I was graced to be sitting next to made for great conversation, laughter, and the epitome of my love for Salt Lake. In other words, the excuse of a Jack Johnson concert made for an expensive (and yet utterly fabulous) exchange between two people.
So what if newspaper reviews say the crowd was rude and didn’t pay attention to the main musician of the evening who could barely be heard from the outskirts of the concert-house? When Jack Johnson himself is not much of an entertainer, and simply a relaxing tunes recitalist, the crowd cannot be blamed for enjoying themselves in other ways. Strawberry banana blends and tall-dark-and-handsome dates are one way to do it; worked well for me.
Her literate artistry is incredible. A BYU English graduate, a wife, a mother, and a woman who wrote a book just to entertain, just to give as a gift to her sister… has now written a four-book series that is being compared to the likes of Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. And it has sucked me in, along with the rest of the female population.
The latest (and last) read: Breaking Dawn. I am not yet finished with the fictional masterpiece, but sacrificed my couch potato Olympic-watching routine last night to do some pleasure reading; (especially before Monday rolls around when Stephenie Meyer’s name will become covered in dust and 1000-page hardcover textbooks will occupy my nightstand’s reading options).
With my eyelids growing very heavy and the chin’s usual perkiness sinking into my chest, I had to put the book down and get some shut-eye. Seven hours later (my bare minimum, by the way) I awake begrudgingly and remember not only do I not know the Volturi’s verdict in the Cullen’s conflict (because the necessity of sleep is so not understood), but it is also my last wakeful morning to go to work at St. Mark’s hospital. Disappointment, all around.
May be a less than hopeful morning, but tonight? Dinner with girlfriends and Grandma.. and DANCING. Everyone welcome. Studio 600, 10pm, and a guaranteed clan of four long-legged women. Who can pass that up?
Secret of Life #2. Jack Johnson.
After an hour and a half journey from Citris Grill in Salt Lake to the USANA Amphitheatre in West Jordan, we ran, literally, with blankets in tow to see the magic of the beach-tunes originality of Mr. Johnson. Relaxing on blankets, sipping on fruit smoothies, and star-gazing into the night sky, Jack was definitely not the center of my attention, but more like the perfect background music. The company with which I was graced to be sitting next to made for great conversation, laughter, and the epitome of my love for Salt Lake. In other words, the excuse of a Jack Johnson concert made for an expensive (and yet utterly fabulous) exchange between two people.
So what if newspaper reviews say the crowd was rude and didn’t pay attention to the main musician of the evening who could barely be heard from the outskirts of the concert-house? When Jack Johnson himself is not much of an entertainer, and simply a relaxing tunes recitalist, the crowd cannot be blamed for enjoying themselves in other ways. Strawberry banana blends and tall-dark-and-handsome dates are one way to do it; worked well for me.
1 comment:
Oh my gosh, we are such good friends even though we haven't really ever hung out. 1. We both love breaking dawn (and I assume you finished it like me). 2. We both love jack johnson (you at his utah concert, me watching his san francisco concert on the internet live).
We were meant to be great friends. (although i'm sure 95 percent of the female population also likes those two things.)
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