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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Imperfect and Loved

Ladies and Gentlemen of the world. There is a revelation I need to share. I am not perfect. Nor are you. Crazy idea isn't it?

Before I continue, please just know that I am being honest, which is something I am trying to do more of. Give me some credit for sharing this with you; It's not an easy thing to do.

I have grown up shopping bargains and clearance racks. I don't have extra money to spend on shopping a lot. I can't afford a COACH handbag, or Prada sunglasses. Most of my clothes are usually worn until either they don't fit or until they start getting holes in them. I eat a lot of macaroni & cheese, spaghetti and cereal because I am too "cheap" to spend my money on expensive (but delicious and healthy) foods. I pay for my own cell phone, my own travel money, and basically anything I want.
My body is also not perfect. My leg hairs grow too fast. My hair is too curly on the bottom, and isn't curly enough on top. My stomach isn't flat. I don't have the most beautiful cheekbones.
Sometimes I don't have the perfect manners I should have. I don't know what silverware to start eating with (although I do know to work from the outside in.) I sometimes say things that then three seconds later make me stick my foot in my mouth. I think I talk too much.
I am not perfect.

My grandfather and his wife aren't these people. They go on cruises an average of twice a year. Although they are in the process of retiring, they can still afford a number of things I can't. Somehow in my mind, I've built them up to be these perfect, prim and proper, fancy people. I am going to spend some time with them in a few short days. I am also meeting my step-grandmother's friends from the country club at a fancy dinner.
I became so nervous about this "meeting" that I literally began to feel sick, tired, and just heavy. It was constantly in my thoughts, and the more I thought about it, the more distraught and overwhelmed I became.

After having a mental breakdown at Target, my good friend Christine told me that I needed to spend time in the Bible. So I did. I can't tell you what a relief it was when God showed me that, yes, I am not perfect, but that's okay! Having designer purses and clothing doesn't make me a good person. Having the perfect body doesn't make me a good person. Even having the most proper of all manners doesn't make me a good person. I am a good person because God created me the way that I am.

What I am. God loves me the way that I am. So what am I?
I am caring. I love people in a way that most people cannot understand. I will fight to the greatest depths for any of my friends, and I truly believe that I am easy to get along with. I am not judgmental, and I love getting to know people and understand them.
I am beautiful. Yes, I am. Body fat, big and sometimes clogged pores, short legs, and big hips...I am still beautiful!! I have beautiful blue eyes, and a beautiful smile I inherited from my father. I have pretty hair when I do it right. I have small feet, and although sometimes I don't like that, I secretly do love them.
I do have manners, despite not having the most proper ones all the time!
I am creative. I create meaning through words, through photography, through dance, that I believe many can't do.
I am a talented dancer. I have this ability to portray the pure joy and elation I get from dancing. It's because of this that I have been able to teach students about dancing, and through teaching them dance, I have been able to be there and mentor them as they grow and learn about things in life.

Most importantly, I am these things because God created me, and Christ died for me. (Do you know any of your friends who have died to save your life?)
He has shown me what it feels like to be loved. And it's not even just an "I love you because of these things." It's an "I love you so so much because I made you, and it doesn't matter what you do and what you say, I will always love you."
It's because of this that I can show love to others.

So ladies and gentlemen, I propose this: We are not a perfect people. But we must learn to love what we are. Flaws, both physical and otherwise. We must love ourselves because we are loved! God loves you. You think that your past can somehow keep his love from you? Not true. He loves you beyond every single one of your flaws!

This pressure we put on ourselves becomes ridiculous...and we look at that as what we have to measure up to. Yet we can never attain it. And that's okay!

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An article I once wrote...

This is an article I once wrote last fall about the upcoming election, specifically the MN senate race between Franken and Coleman. Since they are still battling out the ballots, I figured I'd post this.


After seeing countless attack ads and smear tactics from Al Franken and current Sen. Norm Coleman, you would think the better option would be to pick the independent candidate for Senate, Dean Barkley. However, that’s not nearly the case. This year’s election could potentially bring a time that is more disastrous than Gov. Jesse Ventura’s reign. Even though Minnesota hasn’t produced the best candidates this year, Senator Coleman is the best choice in this race for Minnesota Senator.
Remember Gov. Ventura? It’s almost like remembering the Alamo, but much worse. The newest clone of the pro-wrestler turned terrible governor is Al Franken, the comedian and entertainment representative – the only difference is the position Franken might hold. Al Franken could be Minnesota’s worst mistake since Gov. Ventura.
Not only does Franken have no political experience other than his radio talk show (oh wait, that’s not political experience, either), it seems he can’t even keep his own finances in order. In his time in New York, his company “Al Franken Inc.” failed to carry worker’s compensation insurance from the years of 2002-2005, and was ordered to pay $25,000 in fines. Many are failing to understand how this could just slip his mind three years in a row. How is he supposed to help Minnesota in this economic crisis if he can’t even run his own company right?
While Franken might be able to write a good comedic sketch for Saturday Night Live, it’s hard to believe he can write a good bill, or anything that might help this state and country. Comedy is appropriate in television, not on the Senate floor – especially when it’s our tax dollars at the risk of a terrible joke. To top that all off, Franken wrote an article in 2000 for “Playboy” entitled “Porn-O-Rama,” which six prominent women in the GOP claimed was “demeaning and degrading.” This implies just how much of an appalling role model and leader he is for the people of Minnesota. Seems to me Franken in this race seems to be the joke more than that “Playboy” article.
Independent Party representative Dean Barkley seems like the next best choice, but not by much more than the size of a slice of deli-cut turkey. One major problem is his service and alliance with Gov. Ventura. However, contrary to Franken, Barkley has had actual political experience. In January of 1999, Ventura appointed Barkley as the director of the Office of Strategic and Long Range Planning (also known as Minnesota Planning.) Barkley served in that role until Oct. 25, 2002, after Paul Wellstone’s death. Ventura appointed Barkley to take Wellstone’s senate spot until the election of current Senator Coleman in 2002. Those few months gave Barkley a small chunk of senate experience, as he passed a bill for a memorial for Wellstone and provided a pivotal vote in the last fragment in passing the Homeland Security Act. Barkley served a total of 62 days in the Minnesota Senate.
After a failed attempt to get a job at a prestigious law firm, Barkley then worked for a time as a contract lobbyist in St. Paul, where he represented casino interests, a tobacco firm and a group trying to privatize prisons. Barkley is currently a bus driver for Transit Team, which transports elderly and disabled clients. While Barkley is certainly a better choice than Franken, he does not have the ability to lead Minnesota through these turbulent years.
Senator Coleman is the best choice for Senate, although he doesn’t have flaming recommendations, either. Although Coleman may not be in the race for “Senator hall-of-fame,” he has shown himself to be firmly grounded. Coleman, who has held the position since January of 2003 when he took office, has had years of Senatorial experience. In his first two years as mayor of St. Paul, Coleman was a member of the DFL. In 1996, Coleman switched parties, claiming that while parties may change, his stances on abortion and gay-rights will not, so he stuck with his positions on pro-life and anti-gay rights. Since then, Coleman has remained a member of the Republican Party, and has worked on several different committees helping provide health care aid.
While Coleman has shown himself to be the most respectable of the candidates, he isn’t blameless on his ads on Franken. However, Coleman deserves our respect for sticking to his choices, even if that means changing parties. It’s reassuring to have someone in office that sticks to his guns and cannot be swayed by the sinking sands of politics.

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What has the world come to?

Last night, a friend of mine shared with a group of us girls a story. The story was about her brother, and his love for the game of hockey. The story was also about the sickening, gruesome things that happened to him in the locker room.
Because I want to protect my friend and her family, I will not share everything here; it is also too graphic to post on a blog.
Because he would not participate in these graphic and sickening acts, he was then forced to "reep the consequences" by his fellow teammates. What they did was not okay. If this had happened in a classroom, just a short walk from the locker room, the teacher and students would suffer severe consequences. Yet because this all took place in the locker room and it's passed off as "boys will be boys", they receive no such punishment. Why is this?

There are two things that stick out to me.
First, I can't understand how this "hazing" can't be punished. The administration has known about this. It is required by Minnesota state law to both report and punish these actions. Yet people stand by and act like it isn't a big deal, when in all reality, this harassment has caused my friend's brother and their entire family severe emotional damage, so much so that professional counseling is sought. Why is nobody doing anything?

Second. I laugh at my friends when they make a suggestive joke. It's passed off as sarcasm. To the outside world, this isn't something to feel guilty about. It's just another joke. We see them all the time in television shows. The Simpsons, King of the Hill, even FRIENDS reruns. Yet now I see that even these can hurt people. Maybe not directly, but if I were in the presence of my friend and her brother, it would be a different story. I would not laugh. I would not even smile. Instead, I would look to her and her brother with eyes that wish to comfort.

My friend loves her brother. It's tearing her apart to see him being put in these situations, harassed by his teammates and no one to listen to his cries to make it stop. As an older sibling, myself, I understand the need to protect, and the feeling that when a younger sibling is hurting, you hurt yourself. She feels this, and it is ripping her heart in pieces to see her brother battling harassment with no one to reprimand and punish those who are doing it.

I beg everyone, first, to look in their own lives. Are there things being said to people who find it hurtful?
I then make a plea, to everyone, that when you see or hear of harassment, don't just stand around, waiting for someone else to make the call first. Be the one that yells at wrongdoers. Be the one who puts an end to the harassment. It's wrong. No if's, and's, or but's. It is wrong. Period.
In today's society, we have a tendency to look at things from a relative perspective, and with an "open mind." But there comes a time when an open mind just won't cut it anymore. An open mind does not change the fact that any type of harassment is wrong, and an open mind does not change the actions that cause severe emotional trauma.
It is not okay. Stop it now.

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To tell a story

Mornings. Even just the word “morning” makes me sad. It sounds just like “mourning.” I have never been a morning person, and have truly enjoyed sleeping in past noon when I can. However, the life of a college student is much more demanding, and often before the sun rises I am forced out of bed. But even among my groans and stretches, I get excited every morning when I turn on the TV to the Today Show. I had watched the Today show here and there in years past, but I had never really cared about it. Then about two years ago, I found that seeing Meredith Viera and Matt Lauer tell news stories in the morning made me smile, and I was hooked.

The Today show has so much to offer for everyone. I enjoy learning new tricks to make delicious meals for cheap. I love learning new ideas for cost-friendly fashion. I enjoy listening to the news of the outside world, beyond the Northwestern Bubble. They have had every-day families on their show, with stories anywhere from overcoming tragedies to a family with 18 children. And although those stories catch my heart in a certain way, I truly enjoy when the anchors go around the world and show America what it is to live in places like Antarctica, Africa, and China. But most of all, I love the stories they tell. Every story is real, and mostly importantly, that each story is important.

The Today Show is my morning coffee. Every morning I feel like I’m a part of a family, who share everything from personal experiences, to tips on saving money, to beauty and health tips. I’ve tried watching other morning shows, like ABC’s Good Morning America or CBS’ The Morning Show, but there’s a connection to The Today Show that even words can’t describe. Maybe it’s because I have journalism blood running through my veins, or maybe it’s just because I enjoy the chemistry between the anchors. Either way, whatever chemistry The Today show truly has, it works for me.

The most important thing that I come out of after watching The Today Show is the sense of how to tell a story. I love people, and every person has their own story. I aspire to tell stories the way I've seen The Today Show has. I aspire to tell every person's story like it's the most important one in the world. I take that back. I WILL tell every story I write like it's the most important story in the world.

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