Memories, like the corners of my mind.

You know how you are just going about your normal daily routine, then something, just some little thing, sparks something in your memory?
It happened to me today.
I saw frilly socks. You know, the cute little socks your mom used to dress you in when you were little? The ones with the ribbon or the bows or the lace on the top, and it folded down?
The second I saw those socks my memory was flooded with images of my childhood. The purple and white dress, with all the lace. The really poofy yellow dress. The other purple dress that had sparkly fruit on it. The pocahantas dress, or the floral/lace one mom sewed herself. Or the shoes. Remember the black shiny shoes that almost reminsced tap shoes? Oh, goodness. Then there was the hair; it was the really poofy hair, side ponytails, and poofy bangs, usually secured with a bow clip.

I remember waking up every Sunday morning, looking inside the hall-way closet for a dress to wear. I always wanted the ribbons and bows tied in front, not the back. I was certain it was supposed to go that way. Mom told me every Sunday morning it needed to go into the back, and I argued with her because I wanted it in the front. In the end, she usually won...that is until she was out of my sight.

Then there was Sunday School, then sitting through church, unless there was Children's Church (thank goodness). Then after church all of the kids would run around outside, usually playing some silly game or another. Jared, Briann, me, Jordy, Catherine...we'd all run and scream about until our parents dragged us home. We would also get yelled at for climbing on top of the church's marquee....for the thousandth time. Then we'd all depart.

I went back and looked through some pictures tonight. I wanted to remember the dresses and the socks and the shoes.
In the photo albums I found photos of things I had long forgotten. My stuffed Beethoven dog. At least, that's what he looked like. I can't remember if I called him Beethoven or something else, like "rufus". Then There was baby doll....baby doll had the longest eyelashes, and blonde curly hair. She wore pink cotten pajamas. And you can't forget the train set. It was filled with baby Sesame Street characters, and the train was set on a cloverleaf patterned track. In each of the four circles were different "amusement rides" they would ride. A merry go-round, a Ferris Wheel...one was something like an Alligator pond.
Or there was my Minney-mouse slippers. Pink, as Minney and I would both have it.

I learned that my cousin Kyle didn't like to smile in a lot of pictures. I did. This hasn't changed one bit. I learned that ages ago, Uncle Karl had these crazy side-burns that reminds me of John Travolta in Grease, and Kristy (my mom's cousin) was still gorgeous with her krimped frizzy hair early 90's hair. I learned that my mom, Aunt Sherry, Aunt Peggy, and Gramma all had crazy massive round glasses. I learned that once upon a time, Como Park/Zoo was a frequented place for my parents and uncle Karl/Sherry to visit.

There's a great deal that I remembered or learned tonight. I can't remember the last time I looked through those photos.

I can't help but wonder what it would be like to go back to those times...when life's biggest worry was when you got a cut or a scrape, getting yelled at by your mom for getting grass stains on your dress, or trying to convince your mom the bow belongs in the front. I know, I know..."It's all part of growing up."

But maybe, just for once, I want to be Wendy and stay in the land of Neverland, where you don't have to grow up.

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"being true to yourself never goes out of style"

"Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow." - Langston Hughes

I had the blessing and the phenomenal opportunity to see a fantastic musical in St. Paul tonight. My best friend and I had made today as our "get away from (most) school" day. This morning we had a photo shoot together, something we've done for the past few years just for the fun of it. After I was finished with my last class for the semester (woohoo!), and finishing up the eastiest and best Biology Lab assignment ever, I ran back to my room to get ready for our evening.

After a great dinner at one of my favorite places, the Old Spaghetti Factory, we drove across the river and into downtown St. Paul to experience what I had been waiting for, for almost 11 months... LEGALLY BLONDE: THE MUSICAL.

The musical, the singing and dancing version of MGM's hit Legally Blonde, has been in town for about a week and a half, and tonight I was finally able to experience it. It was a fantastic show, and although it took a better part of me not to sing along, I couldn't have been more happy. Besides the fact that I sat in my seat the entire show like a kid in a candy store, with eyes wide open and a huge grin pasted on my face, there are some great lessons I took away from the show.

In the show, the main character Elle packs up and moves to Harvard Law School in pursuit of her ex-boyfriend, the incredible Warner Hunnington III. During her time at Harvard, she learns things about herself that even she didn't know, such as that she has the brains to become a successful lawyer, or that being judged by her hair color shouldn't stand in the way of accomplishing her dreams.

I also had the pleasure of speaking with the some of the cast after the show tonight, including Becky Gulsvig, who hails from Moorhead, MN, just minutes away from my old hometown. (oh the days of the good ol' Hawley Nuggets!)Rhiannon Hansen (finalist on the MTV show's search for the next Elle Woods) was also there, and of course a few of the other cast members. (I also got to do the bend and snap with Becky and Rhiannon, which was thoroughly enjoyable...now if only I can plug that in when I need it to work on a guy.) In their discussion with the audience, one of the last questions asked was about how the actors got to where they are, and what advice they'd give to aspiring actors. Amidst other good advice was the classic phrase "Never give up, and believe in yourself."

I couldn't help but walk away from the Ordway tonight feeling like I believed in myself. The problem is, I only believe in myself until something tells me I'm not good enough.
I am a trained dancer, which is by far my forte. I can sing, but the last formal training I've had was high school. I can act, although, like singing, the last training I've had was in high school. But in a world with talent such as Susan Boyle boiling to the top now, I know I have enough competition to keep my hopes low enough that I don't want to try.
Then Becky Gulsvig mentioned something tonight that's stuck in my brain. She said "be yourself." I know, I know. "Be Yourself" is such a general term, and we've heard it all a hundred thousand times. But what she said somehow plugged it different in my brain. She mentioned that in show biz, you can get turned down for parts not because you weren't a good enough singer. In fact, you may have been a better singer, but you were taller than the male lead. You literally have to be yourself to get a part...that fits you. They will choose YOU based upon who YOU are. She mentioned that you can admire someone else, but if you try to be like everyone else, you'll never get a part. It's being who you are that makes the part.

So what does this mean? I don't know. I know that I can't be anybody else but myself. And I know I still have dreams I aspire to accomplish. And I know that I can't tell myself "I'm not worthy," without even giving it a shot. So I am going to take that first step in a long staircase, and we'll see where it leads.
Regardless of whether or not I find a place in the theatre community, we all must seek out our dreams, because when we lose them, we lose a sense of self, a piece of our soul, and possibly our future. So whatever your dreams may be, tell yourself every day to be yourself, and that someday that perfect part will come along that fits you to a "T." And remember, as Vivian put it, "Being true to yourself never goes out of style."

Now I have to face reality, however, and get some sleep, because the next 5 days are going to be the equivalent of "study hell" in preparation for my finals.

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Hannah from Montana

Quick trivia fact: I used to live in Montana. My name's Hannah. I get called "Hannah Montana" quite often.

What people don't know about me, however, is that I secretly love Hannah Montana. Actually, I didn't for quite a while. My younger sister is in that "tween" stage, and of course is in love with Hannah Montana, so needless to say that when I'm home and she's in control of the remote, it usually goes to that show. I found it slightly irritating and annoying.

Then over this past Easter weekend, my sister pleaded for me to take her to go see Hannah Montana: the movie. Actually, it wasn't "pleading" as much as it was "You're taking me to go see it." After some moaning of my own, I decided that my friend and I would take my little sister and her friend to go see it. I was expecting to see the normal. You know, Hannah Montana is cool, her friends and her play pranks on her brother and laugh, then her friend and her get in a small fight then make up and everybody's happy. I expected wrong.

The beginning was as I predicted. Somewhat childish, Hannah Montana IS cool, and some laughs. But then the actual plot started suck me in. As the movie progresses, Miley's dad tricks his daughter into flying back to Tennessee...her roots. Well, actually, their roots.

I may be a city girl in many ways. I love having shopping malls nearby with just about every store imaginable. I love that a grocery store is literally a 2 minute drive away for me, and I can go see a movie on a whim because it's only another 3 minutes away from the grocery store.
But there's a side of me that boils up to the surface every once in a while. My father grew up on a farm. My father's father grew up on a farm. My grandmother grew up on a farm. My Grandmother's father grew up on a farm. Farming is in our family. My grandparents currently own their own farm, although they've sold most of their cattle. Their house sits on a thousand acre plot, which consists of green grass, ponds and streams, and the woods. My aunt lives 5 miles down the road from them, and among their own stretch of land roams their horses. Although I've lived in the city for all but three years of my life (and even then, it was just a development area), I have grown up as a country girl. Maybe not quite a farm girl, because I never learned how to farm. But I've helped my grandpa drive the tractor. I've helped milk the cows. I've helped peel the corn and pluck the chickens. I also take the four-wheeler out for some adventure out back on a consistent basis while I'm there. Much of the time it includes getting very muddy.

Hannah Montana: The Movie really hit home for me. While she's at "home", although quite relucant at first, she re-learns and re-affirms her life and roots in the country, full with ho-downs, horseback riding, and good ol' fashioned country singing. At the very end of the movie, she starts singing one of her "Hannah Montana" songs, pretending that she isn't Miley. But after all she's been through, she can't do it. It was on that very stage years ago that she started singing and country fairs and other events. It was with both her family and that same community that she grew up with. They knew who she was, but most importantly, she finally knew who she was. She stopped her "Hannah" song dead in it's tracks, pulled off the blonde wig, stripped off her "Montana" self, and became Miley again. It was in that moment that we all must realize our roots. We all must realize that we came from somewhere. Our past may not dictate who we are, but it is a part of us. And we can't throw it away for something we think is better, because denying that part of us is like denying a piece of our history, whether good or bad.

In Miley's case, it was good. It brought her home.


This weekend I drove up to my grandparent's again. And as I entered, I was greeted with hugs and kisses. The warmth that I felt while up there among the trees, streams, and green grass was more than I've felt in a cold city in a long time.

There's something refreshing and renewing about going home. It's a time to reflect, a time of perspective.

For all of you Hannah Montana haters out there, I urge you to reconsider. Miley Cyrus' performance is definitely not restricted to children, and the movie will have your hearts at home by the end. Feel the love and warmth this budding actress brings in her new movie.

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