If you want my tonsils, you can have them

When I was five weeks old I had spinal meningitis. Thanks to some very intelligent doctors in Washington DC, I was soon pumped full of penicillin and recovered gracefully, luckily missing out on some of the devastating effects that spinal meningitis can have on a little baby (despite what some people might say ;]).

Unfortunately for me, the vast influx of penicillin into my little five week old body has since rendered the drug somewhat ineffective. I like to think that, like Wesley built up an immunity to iocaine powder, I have my own immunity. However, unlike Wesley and his iocaine powder, penicillin is not so much a poison as it is...the miracle drug that pretty much cures everything. Including tonsillitis. So, it happened that as I grew up and got case after case of tonsillitis and received drug after mutated drug that were all some form of penicillin, I kept getting swollen tonsils. Boo. It must have been the year after my sister Rachel got her tonsils removed that doctor's suddenly decided that a tonsilectomy was too dangerous and pretty much stopped doing them. So here I am now, with tonsils that are perpetually swollen and a dental assistant who is always concerned that she is going to get sick. Don't worry. I won't infect you. They've been that swollen for a while now.

I wanted to post tonight, but I didn't know what else to say. So you got my tonsils. If you want them, you can have them. Just gargle with warm salt water. Some people think it's gross, but trust me--it is oh-so-effective.

The Blessing of iTunes

So, I'm not much up on technology. Some of you may remember that it's only been about two years since I got my first cell phone, and only at my parents' insistence. (It's been a great experience since then, so thanks Mom and Dad).

Well, two Christmases ago I decided that I wanted music. I'd started keeping a list on my handy cell phone notepad of songs that I heard on the radio and really liked. I am, however, quite opposed to buying CD's. Here's why: I only ever end up listening to the two or three songs that I enjoy. The other ones are completely useless (although I admit that sometimes you find a song rarely played on the radio that you hear and your first reaction is "Hey! Why don't they ever play this one? It's GREAT!"). So why should I pay ten to fifteen dollars extra for all these songs that I'm never going to appreciate? Anyhow, I decided that an iTunes card was the way to go. I got two, and used one of them. Then I saved the other and decided to wait until my list got longer. So then this last Christmas I got another one, and the other night I decided it was time to break out the cards and my list and google the songs to find out who the singer was if I didn't already know (I know, what kind of lame person doesn't know who's singing the song that they like? Well, that lame person would be me. I'm sorry, it's just not a talent that I stood in line for in the pre-existence. I must have been preoccupied with other things, like lecturing David about not wandering off when it was his turn to come down).

Anyhow, I just got tired, so here's the long and the short of it: I downloaded 42 of my favorite songs, and I'm sitting blissfully listening to them right now. (And, if you'd like the breakdown, that's 2 alternative, 20 country, 1 hip hop/rap, 9 pop (though I don't know why "I Can" by NAS isn't rap...), 1 pop latino, and 9 rock)

Now all I need is an iPod, or the equivalent...

My First True Love

Books: Number the Stars. I think it was the first young adult novel that I read. It was scary and beautiful and daring and real, and it introduced me to the world.

Babies: My brother, Mikel. When he was born and my grandma told me that I finally had a brother, I cried. I wanted them to take him back. I wanted a sister. But then my parents brought him home from the hospital, and I got to hold him first. He was so tiny and brownish-red and had these adorable chubby cheeks and tiny hands. So I figured brothers might not be all that bad.

Movies: Space Camp. It taught me to dream.

Boys: Robert. I can't remember his last name. I was in kindergarten. He was mean, so I'm not sure why I liked him. That's how kindergartners flirt, right?

Nature: The tree in our front yard. I couldn't begin to even guess how many hours I spent up there playing, reading, sleeping, and dreaming.

The Earth: La Jolla Cove. I learned to snorkel there, and when I figured out what was underneath the surface of the ocean, I never really came back to dry land.

Popular Music: "Running just as fast as we can," by Tiffany. Hey, I was in third grade.

Classical Music: Mozarts' 12 Variations on "Ah, vous dirai-je, Maman." It's the tune that "Twinkle, twinkle little star" is based on. In master class one week when I was 10 or 11, Patrick D. played this piece, and I was entranced. I have the sheet music, and someday when I have my own piano and a lot of time on my hands, I'm going to learn how to play it. Here's a link if you want to listen to it.

Movement: Ballet. I still love to do ballet, even though I am chubby. I just do it in the privacy of my own home. Besides, aren't ballet slippers adorable? They just make your feet look great.

Musicals: The Music Man. A close second is The Sound of Music, but we watched the Music Man ALL the time growing up. I loved every song, every hint of quaint small-town Iowa life, that Marian was a librarian ("Marian"), and it was so funny too!

Science Fiction/Fantasy: Star Wars, hands down. The originals (4-6). I want to live with the E-woks.

Art: Ceramics. Squishy clay!

Stuffed Animals: Muncheechee. Thanks to my siblings that scoured the garage not too long ago, I have him once again. He's a stuffed monkey that I got from my grandpa. David cut his hair, so he has a little bald patch on top. It adds character, I think.

Dessert: Anything strawberry. Strawberry ice cream, strawberry and rhubarb pie, strawberry short-cake.

That's all I can think of. Try it, it's fun!

If you find my motivation, send it to apt. 401 instead of 404

So I gave in and moved. My RA came and helped me, as did my trusty sidekick, Alise (my single's ward companion, building-mate, and choir buddy. We also go to Wal-mart together.) Whenever I move, even if it's just across the hall like yesterday, I am reminded of how much junk I really have. Mind you, I did go through my clothes and get rid of a TON of stuff that I just keep keeping more out of habit than out of the fact that I actually think I'll wear it someday. I patted myself on the back for that one.

As for school, well. You know. I'm sort of still trying to be motivated. Last semester I was all on top of everything. Sure, I was crazy. But now this semester I am both crazy and unmotivated. Sad combination. The only thing that saves me is precariously balancing the number of times I go to the pool and swim laps with the amount of chocolate mint brownie ice cream I allow myself to consume. In case you were wondering, grad school is very liberating in that sense. =]

Have I ever told you all my 70 year plan? It's getting closer to a 60 year plan now, but I'm progressing within the plan, so I don't feel bad about that gap narrowing. Okay, so here it is. In my 20's and 30's I'm going to be a social worker (Check. I'm in grad school to be a social worker. Good job Bekah). Then, in my 40's and 50's I'm going to be a writer. I like to write, but I figure it will probably take me until I'm that old to get something pretty good published. Okay, then comes the fun part, because when I "retire" from social working and writing (around 60's and 70's), I'm going to be an oceanographer. I know, I know. Why don't I just do that now? Well, I really do like social work and writing. And you want to know a secret? I'm really not that good at science. Sure, I did pretty well in geology, but chemistry was never my thing. I might study it sooner than that (note: University of West Florida has a bachelor's program in oceanography you can do distance learning--what what!), but I'm talking about full-on living on a boat in the ocean for months on end. Besides, then I would definitely be the coolest grandma ever, because my grandkids could be like, "Oh, wanna know what I did this summer? My grandparents came and picked me up in their boat and then we sailed to Australia and snorkeled/scuba dived near the Great Barrier Reef." Maybe by then my dream of everyone having their own submarine will be fulfilled, and I can take them down in that too. Awesomeness ensuing.

(PS. My turtle, Alvin, was named after the submarine. Not the chipmunk. And only partially for Joseph Smith's brother, Alvin, because he was also amazing.)

=] I'm such a dork. But I love it.

BACK TO HOMEWORK!!!!