If you've ever discussed music with me, you probably know that I love Relient K. I also love the 80's making this song effectively my anthem. This past Saturday night, I went to an 80's themed stake dance, which was actually right up my ally.
I can't decide if this was better or not as good as Stake Dances in Provo. It was better because let's face it. I hate stake dances. I abhor them. Every since the fiasco at the August 2009 back to school dance where everything went downhill I have steered clear. But this dance was a horse of a different color. I had the best time. It was fun to dress up and be 80's and goof around and spend time with the kids in the ward here. I love them all and will really miss them in a few months, even though I haven't known them very long.
But this stake dance was also not quite as good. I had fun it is true and I don't usually back home which should make this the best stake dance ever. But it was weird to be at a stake dance with so few people, stake dances back home are packed! But it is probably a good thing that there were less people. Who needs them anyways?
At any rate, I'm not hesitant to throw it away to fall in love.... with the 80's.
Yes. It has finally happened. And the sad thing? I don't feel any different, not at all. I don't know what I expected though, birthdays are more of a symbolic change than a literal one, but as far as they go, mine was a pretty great one.
I feel like the fates were conspiring to make it great. Which is good news really, because due to a series of unfortunate seating arrangements in sixth grade I've been convinced that they hated me. Turns out they don't, the first evidence of this is:
Eyjafjallajökull. Yes, that is a real word--well supposedly. Pronounced as “ay-yah-FYAH’-plah-yer-kuh-duhl”. Like I said, this really is a real word, I didn't make it up out of my head. Eyjafjallajökull is the name of the Icelandic volcano which has been "causing a hellacious mess all over the world". I didn't make up that statement either, it was a real headline. So what could be good about a volcano that is stranding hundreds of thousands of people including my sister and all of our students? The answer: as long as they're stranded, they're stranded HERE. Lucky that an act of God allowed my friends to stay for my birthday, right? This is why we love Eyjafjallajökull.
The second reason I know the fates love me is because of my leg. Every birthday I hurt myself without fail. In second grade I got whacked in the mouth with a tennis racket during P.E., I spent the rest of the day changing my gauze and drinking various milkshakes courtesy of my dad. Last year, I fell subject to the worst sunburn of my life. This year, I tripped. That's all. I tripped walking up the escalator at Charing Cross underground station, and was caught by a very nice man (presumably a stranded tourist) before anything was caught in the escaltor. It was very, very fortunate. I mean, I still had to walk away with various underground patrons laughing at me, but I was fine. Michelle Erickson and I laughed it off and I got my injury out of the way very early this year, probably without scarring.
Evidence no. 3 the great day I proceeded to have from that point on. We met up with Anna, Arrin, Jake, Karalyn, and Karli at Trafalgar Square for the Holland Festival. We had no idea what it was, but it wasn't quite what we expected, even so I had a great time, just the atmosphere, and ambience. There were giant orange clogs to take pictures in, free beer, children's crafts, an outdoor concert by a pretty okay band called Go Back to the Zoo, old men dressed like Elvis creepily dancing, pole vaulting, and orange merchandise. Over all it was tremendous. We ended up watching pole vaulting for probably close to an hour, and I'm pretty sure that the pole vaulters thought we were in love with them, which a little bit we were. They all had very attractive figures, seeing as they were very strong. We even learned some of their names like Nick, who as Anna put it was the best one. Or Andy, who needed to go ProActiv.
Andy pole vaulting
We left the festival after Nick failed us by pulling the standard down with him, and we proceeded on a very long walk to Borough Market which was excellent per usual. I got a pork, applesauce & stuffing sandwich on a baguette and a freshly pressed apple cranberry juice. Anna bought an evil veggie burger that gave her food poisoning--the low point of the day.
Next highlight was presents. Cliche I know, but I really got everything I wanted this year. I got a great new notebook from Arrin, Jemimah Puddleduck stuff from my parents and Leslie, £5 to Ben's from the Coopers and lotion, a Cath Kidston purse, a Longchamp Le Pliage bag, and a care package full of "American" things from my grandma--skittles, starbursts, girlscout cookies, sour patch, the works, absolutely great.
I finished the day with cake with the students, and went blissfully to bed happy and loved.
And that was it, no "Super Sweet Sixteen" party, no car, no dating... and I am fine with all of that. I may even prefer it... weird I know.
I know that this is a little early, but its arrival is eminent and I like to be prepared. I also know that it's a little dramatic, but hey that's life. It is extreme--no one is dead. But the students were supposed to leave tomorrow morning before an act of God kept them in our company for an indeterminate period of time, and I am not looking forward to it--that is the leaving part. I went down this morning for breakfast and the tables were empty. The students were all asleep in their beds in their own rooms. In most places this wouldn't be a strange sight, but before yesterday, there was always someone at these tables, studying, laughing, and singing "We're Not Gonna Take It" in preparation for finals. But this morning I was greeted by silence.
Last night, I saw 39 Steps. It was fantastic, so funny and just perfect. The only thing it wasn't was Les Mis. I love Les Mis. I went on Monday with Eliza and I have been singing/listening to the songs since, it was seriously affecting my Shakespeare studying. A bunch of people went last night, and I was very, very close to going with them. Then I decided that it might be a little excessive to see Les Mis twice in one week... so rather I enjoyed 39 Steps, and also Richard Hanney and his rather attractive pencil moustache.
Which is for the better really, because Leslie and Anna waited at the stagedoor to meet Barricade Boy, a.k.a. Enjolras, a.k.a. The Boy of my Dreams; and they said he was a jerk, he wouldn't even take a picture with them. However, I didn't witness this for myself so I can still believe him to be the perfect man, which he is. As Laura Marostica said, it's not just that he's good looking, which he is. And it's not just that he's a great singer, which he is, it's that he believes in what he stands for so strongly.
I love our students, the Coopers, Susan, the Shulers and my family. Unfortunately, the semester ends on Saturday and our students need to be gone by noon that morning. I will miss every single one of them, and Susan as she heads out with them.
I'm remaining optimistic. Maybe our new students will be like clones of Winter 2010.