These Are My Confessions

1. My parents are moving to Louisiana. I should be sad that they're leaving, but so far I'm not.
2. I've got a soft spot for all things Ed Hardy.
3. The latest I got home on my mission was 11:45 PM. You're supposed to be in by 9:30. (I had to take my companion to the Emergency Room, so it was justified. However, I'm not going to tell you the second latest time I got home on my mission.)
4. I'm a sucker for a good clapping section in a song. Even if the song sucks, I will still listen to it if there's clapping.
5. In sixth grade, I farted in gym class and then denied it was me. Nobody bought it.
6. I wear socks to sleep.
7. I can't parallel park.
8. I think I was fourteen when a local bookstore offered weekly Elvish classes. I regularly attended. Had an elf name and everything.
9. I've got a chick on the side, she's got one on the way.
10. Sometimes I confuse myself with Usher.

Let's hit up Magnolia and mack on some cupcakes

Here, have a Lazy Sunday post of pics I took when I was in Arizona last week (most were taken at my grandparents's cabin, some were taken  in Tucson). Also, the latest Star Trek movie is pretty rockin'. I love being so behind on pop culture--it's the best! (Except the opposite of that.)

Ashley is always singing the praises of her little Mexican breakfast place, so of course I had to go. I got the Mexican hot chocolate and...

the Huevos Divorceados. For the love of all that is holy, I can't properly describe how amazing this tasted. Note that the green chile and red chile are separated by a pool of black beans--hence the "divorceados". (Speaking of Ashley, later that day we went out for lunch. Her story about trying to make chili is even funnier in person.)

Oh, hey there, little guy. Let's be friends.

Favorite shot of the week! I miss summer already.

This is my grandparents' super-hyperactive six-month-old Labrador. Her name is Sonja, after the ice skater Sonja Henie. 

Everything sounds better on an 8-track. We listen to the classics, like Henry Mancini and Barbara Streisand and that one swing song from the old Chips Ahoy! commercials.

I now understand why Dooce and The PW are always posting pictures of their dogs. One shot and you're hooked like a bad crack addict.

The cabin was built in the 70s and the decor has not changed one single bit. There's this vintage-y wallpaper in one of the bedrooms and I was so tempted to rip it off the walls and smuggle it home with me.

My granddaddy grows the most gorgeous dahlias you've ever seen. Most are bigger than my head.

Annnnnnnd a back shot of the cabin. This place is my heaven on earth.

Enjoy the rest of your weekend!

What's a motto? I dunno, what's a motto with you?

I'm convinced that every child has a movie. Not just any movie, but the one movie that they will watch over and over and over again. The child will grow up and forever have this deep emotional connection to that movie. My little brother's was Home Alone. (Beats me.)

Mine was The Lion King.

I was barely seven when the movie came out in theaters. I already had a love for lions and all things Disney. It was only natural that this be my movie--mine and nobody else's. I wish I could go back and watch the look on Little Gretchen's face as she saw it for the very first time. I must've gone about five or six times, begging and pleading my mom to take me back. There is something very consistent about my personality that even as a young child I was aware of the release date of the video on VHS. I probably even kept a countdown. (57 days until Part One of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows!) One of my clearest memories is finding The Lion King in a display case at the grocery store, running up to it, and clutching it in my adorable little fingers. (What? I was a cute kid.) We drove home and I probably watched it that very night.

I was the ideal consumer for the toy industry. I owned the Simba piggy bank, the Polly Pocket miniature playset with a Pride Rock carry case that was only three inches high, and I HAD to have the Simba and Nala stuffed animals with the magnetic kissy noses--you know what I'm talking about. For her 8th birthday, I bought my best friend the Best Friends Forever necklace with Simba on one half and Nala on the other. She got the Nala half, because I was feeling charitable that day. Now, whenever I feel nostalgic, I drink Kool-aid out of my Lion King juice cup that we still keep in our cupboard.

My love never faded; I just became distracted by new obsessions. I did watch The Lion King II: Simba's Pride, although I did not see The Lion King 1 1/2. (Some things are too sacred to be defiled.) And a few years ago, you better believe I bought the Platinum 2-Disc Special Edition. Sometimes I listen to the soundtrack in my car.

Flash back to six months ago when my mom emails me on my mission and says that she got us tickets to go and see The Lion King musical at the Capitol Theater. This is yet another moment where I would have loved to have seen the expression on my face. I guess the theater had to re-vamp their stage specifically for the purpose of even having the show consider coming to Salt Lake City. Worth it!

Tonight, 16 years after that fateful summer, I went back to my childhood. I bought one of the fatty, glossy programs and sat down in my seat and started to cry. Guys, the show hadn't even started yet! I'm such a sap. From the opening strains of "Nants' ingonyama bakithi baba!" I was transfixed. (My program told me that the translation of that line means, "Here comes the lion, folks!" in Zulu. Nifty, eh?) The production of the show was stunning. The choreography! The lighting! The textiles! The orchestra did a fabulous job, particularly the percussions. I did pit orchestra for two years in high school, so I'm qualified to say that. Nala did an amazing job--she was terribly feline and feminine at the same time. Scar was appropriately wicked and Simba played the role of sullen outcast quite well. They added in a couple of songs and minor plot lines to flesh out the story. For a purist like myself, I thought the majority of the additions meshed perfectly (especially "He Lives In You", not so much on the creepy/unresolved Scar-wants-a-mate scene). And even though I've heard them a thousand times before, lines like "He looks kinda blue." "I'd say he's more of a brownish-gold." had me laughing from my belly.

As a 7-year-old, I can guarantee there's no way I recognized all of the subtle nuances of the story. Way back then, I liked that it had lions and that the songs were catchy. (Heh. Cat-chy.) Yet, I think I still recognized that The Lion King is more than a mere tale of Serengeti survival. The Lion King is about the interconnectedness of all living creatures. It's about the need for honesty in relationships. It's about justice and  mercy and forgiveness. Most of all, The Lion King is about achieving our divine potential.

I felt that tonight. For a couple hours, there was no difference between 23-year-old Gretchen and 7-year-old Gretchen, as I sat perched like a hornbill on the edge of my seat, eyes wide with wonder.

Here Goes!

*deep breath*

I'm not sure if I'm ready for this, but I want to see what happens.
Tonight I showed my parents the video of the Temple Youth Celebration. The TYC was a show put on by the 1200 LDS youth in British Columbia. It was written, produced, choreographed, and composed on an all-volunteer basis and the result was incredible. Anyhow, I've been avoiding showing it to my parents because I knew watching it would dredge up this longing for Canada. And then I have to feel feelings.
So tonight I manned up and we watched it together. I cried. Lots. And not just regular crying, but the kind where the tears come out hot and sting your tear ducts. I have to confess, I did feel better afterwards.

Random asides...
-I look absolutely nothing like my profile picture anymore. My hair is now blond and Maria Von Trapp-short. I did gain a little bit of weight on my mission, but I promised myself that I wouldn't blog about it.

-In the tv world, I think Community is fantastic. I have not watched The Office yet. I'm not sure if I really care.

-In church yesterday, I gave a talk to report on my mission. I talked about repentance. It was less fire'n'brimstone than Jonathan Edwards would have liked.

-I also made Nanaimo Bar Cupcakes. Nanaimo bars are this sinfully good Canadian treat with a chocolate/nut/coconut bottom layer, then a layer of custard, and topped off with a layer of chocolate ganache. The cupcakes had coconut and almonds in the bottom mixed with a cakey brownie, custard frosting, and chocolate drizzled on top.

-I've always wanted a DSLR, so this weekend I splurged on a used Canon Rebel EOS XT. I apologize in advance for any excessive photos of my cats.

-I am escaping away to the Southwest for the week. This is something that I need in my life.

I Hope It's Not Contagious...

I've been avoiding this blog for the past twelve days.
Um, sorry about that.
But I've been suffering from a little bit of literary laryngitis, if you will. You see, after a year and a half of not using it properly, I've lost my writing voice. *cough cough* It might take me a while to recover, so I'm following strict doctor's orders. My prescription includes the consumption of the written word, lots of tuneage, good design, and plenty of rest. I should be back to my tip-top self in no time.
P.S. My mission was wonderful. I can't wait to tell you all about it.