ты и вы.

Пустое вы сердечным ты
Она, обмолвясь, заменила
И все счастливые мечты
В душе влюблённой возбудила.
Пред ней задумчиво стою,
Свести очей с неё нет силы;
И говорю ей: как вы милы!
И мыслю: как тебя люблю!
23 мая 1828 г.
А. С. Пушкин

last week, i went to a homecoming for an old roommate.

the first thing she greeted me with was calling me emmers.

and i realized.

no one hardly ever calls me emmers.

it made me a little bit sad.

that there is no one who calls me emmers anymore.

or emmy lou.

or anything.

however, with that said, i must acknowledge,

i love when people call me em.

when that is my name.

when it naturally just flows off of someone's tongue.

did you know?

i really really love that tutoiement. 

that's a french word--

a word for describing that transition:

that crossover from вы to ты.

(from formal to informal.)

and for me.

that's how you call me on ты.

taking the liberty of em,

taking it without asking.

(but of course, the timing must be right.)

that's how i know.

le tutoiement. 

keep austin weird.

in the interest of honesty, i realize that this is from thanksgiving even though it's now christmas.

this semester has been like that, you know?

my point is.

i figured maybe some famberly might want to see the photos from austin.
or at least ma and sherry.

for thanksgiving my ma and i high tailed it on out of the utah chill,

in obvious favor of some texan sun.

because, i have a thing for transport.

planes, trains, and all.

and because, i have a thing for sunshine and warmth.

and in case you were wondering, i'm in love with the city of austin.

the unofficial motto is keepaustinweird.

(it's totally a thing.)

i have a confession to make.

i submitted a paper right before boarding the plane. (semesterlikethat.)

and then spent a disturbing amount of the entire holiday sleeping.

because i kept falling asleep everywhere.

when i wasn't sleeping, i was chittering with stenzie.

when i wasn't doing that, i watched sappy hallmark christmas specials.

could be worse, right?

just the refresher i needed before entering endofsemesterfinalsdeath.

sunshine, sleep, and stenzie.

this is what it looks like when you chase the sun.
(prepare yourself for a photoattackofallattacks.)

we started with flying in to san antonio, because the flights were cheaper that way.

stenzie drove in to the city and we had dinner at a pizzeria on the river walk.

and by pizzeria, we found out it was just a mall food court.

(same thing?)

then after lots of catchupchitterchatting, they departed to drive back to austin.

the next morning, we slept in. ish.

cause apparently that's what i do.

i had a little chitter with jillian.

(because we are married and have to have our marriedchittertalks

even when we haven't been apart very long.)

ma and i checked out of the hotel and made a stop at the alamo.

because, you can't go to san antonio without stopping at the alamo!

especially when it's literally a couple blocks away from the hotel.

i mean, that's just a crime.

several observations concerning the remembering of the alamo:

1. it is infinitely smaller than people make it out to seem to be.

(everything's bigger in texas?)

2. i really really need to learn spanish. no hablo espanol. and also, i'm obsessed with languages.

3. the vegetation and grounds of the alamo are stunning.

then we drove on over to austin from san antonio.

a delightful little texan jaunt.

free flowing until we got into austin, where the traffic is actually insane at all times.

our hotel was a garden inn, and i loved it and thought it was darling.

that afternoon, ma had to work.

so stenzie took me to see the ut austin campus plus a few downtown sites.

stevie has his name on the door of his office in the building. #bigleagues

i met some russian speakers in the elevator. nadya and sasha.

i think i freaked them out that i knew what they were saying and started talking to them.

happens.

we went to the texas state capitol.

walked through the rotunda.

took some selflies with the capitol building--mostly unsuccessfully.

(don't ask why i call them that. i just do.)

thanksgiving day.

you know, that day we have a holiday for in the first place.

we skyped with derry.

i fell asleep on stenzie's couch before we ate.

i fell asleep again after we ate.

(i'm telling you. i think i spent the whole trip sleeping.)

also. kenzie is a reaaaalllll good chef.

sweetpotatodreamsfordaysssss.

kenzie took me to see the sites of austin on friday.

to see all the rad murals that they have around the city.

to say nothing of the beautiful river and park area downtown.

i'm a big fan.

because only the raddest of cities would have murals that say,

you're my butter half

on the side of the united way building.

and a frog thing named jeremiah across the street from ut austin.

saturday steve took me up through a miniwalkhike lookout over the river and a nearby bridge.

which is to say, a stunning view.

(and also, it was real, real windy.)

and then we went to mount bonnell.

i mean, eventually. once steve and i could actually find it and meet up with ma and kenzie.

(no one uses google maps more than stevie.)

and in the end, we also took a walk along the river downtown.

the thisissparta trailway.

just before leaving to return back to san antonio and then utah.

some favorite people

and lots of sleep

and cool cities

and excellent tour guides

and travel

on a warm holiday?

don't mind if i do.

my restless soul was satisfied--

by that eclectic mix of hipster texan.

we use the stars in the sky as our map.

a couple of weeks ago, i walked home under a full moon, and i wondered. i wonder about dating and people and relationships. and how by some miracle anyone ever gets married and new families are created: that human pattern that has existed in some form or another since the dawn of time. what role do these men play for us and we for them in this thrilling, heartbreaking process we travel through?

i just. i just don't really get it, you see. i have a hard time understanding where everything goes. because. it's not that i haven't had glimpses--little pieces of something that often never go all the way to becoming pieces of everything. (i mean, at least so far. i wouldn't know.)

see, honey. i saw love. you see, it came to me. it put its face up to my face so i could see. --song for zula

in my twenty-three years, i've had friends, boys, admirers--whatever you call them on that spectrum. ones who say sweet words and fumble through trying to discover what they want. discover who her looks like and wonder for a minute if i am his her or he is my him. not that i'm counting on anything to be everything, or putting in too much hope anywhere. but connections of trust and openness--when they do happen--it must mean something.

where does it all go? to what end? i know, naturally, the ultimate goal towards which we're striving. but how do you define it when it doesn't go to that end? i believe it still must have significance--more than just the collection of good and bad experiences to teach what you're truly looking for. there must be more than that, but is there? i wonder. i wonder as i wander out under the sky. what is it meant to mean? i used to believe that everything is meaningful. now sometimes i wonder.

i think maybe it has something to do with trust--it always seems to come back to that. because marriage, more than almost anything, is about trusting. trusting with perfect love and loving with perfect trust. we all know this is important--that marriage and family are among the most important aspects of our existence. but how do we find that--how do we find our own respective him or her with whom we're going to try--and choose to love and trust every day? i refuse to believe that responsibility for finding rests solely with the man or the woman. but how?

i've spent a lot of time and effort this year studying and seeking a stronger testimony of the institution of marriage. and i get it. i do understand and believe on a doctrinal and ideological level both the importance and reasoning behind why we seek that sealing, that connection, that covenant. so that we may grow--individually, together, and as families. i get that. but i've yet to reconcile that with the realities of life and with real people. how does that work? how does that happen? what does that look like? is it really possible for two people to care enough and be committed enough to God and to one another to be striving together for that? clearly it must be, but in the frailties of mankind it so rarely works out.

as we can see. i still have more questions than i do answers.
because, in my experience so far?
no one really knows.
we're all just fumbling along.
trying to act like we know what we're doing.

maybe this seems sappy, maybe this seems dramatic.
but people keep saying how important this is.
people keep saying this is the most important decision you'll ever make.
so why does it come so easily for some, and so hard for others?
questions.
no one really knows.

but in the name of research,

jeffrey's how do i love thee? is an excellent resource.

to love. чего-то неопределённого.

one.

on the last day of class last week, my professor ended by having us watch this and then this.

and in these faces and places used as representations of all places and faces, i was overcome.

because in them, i saw ukraine. certain faces, certain places.

they looked of ukraine.

and i was engulfed in love as well as perplexing wonder.

these pieces of the world that are so much of who i am.

these faces i know and faces i don't--the idea of them itself.

and i wondered.

how is it possible to love something so unquantifiable--like a country or a people--so much?

what does that look like?

this overwhelming surge, that makes you want to embrace it all.

to love so fully something as impossible to materially visualize or quantify as a country--a people?

deep in my soul, i yearn for ukraine.

this all-encompassing divine kind of love.

how is it possible?

guilt to peace, despair to hope.

in some ways, those very four feelings perfectly sum my entire mission.

they perfectly sum one of the most profound lessons i did learn.

the value of hope, and that peace is a choice.

hoping in people, finding peace, and gifting hope and peace together.

how is it possible?

благодаря Ему.

it's been one year today since i came home.

one year since i said goodbye and parted ways with a nation and people that have my heart.

i adore them with all that i am, and i miss them with all that i am.

i miss the way they talk, i miss their mannerisms and language.

i miss talking with them and hearing their stories.

i miss specific people, yes. but i also miss them collectively too.

the very way i love them: specifically and collectively.

and i miss opening them up.

opening them like eggs.

eggs that look made of titanium steel, but are really just covered in tinfoil.

my people.

i went to the temple today.

i reflected on this year.

in some ways, my circumstances have changed very little in this time.

and yet.

everything is different.

i am different, even from the sister who walked off that plane.

my life is different, and my life is moving.

and we all know how my mission gave me an obsession with movement and change.

that divine restlessness, as my ma would say.

i've spent this whole year learning millions more reasons than i ever imagined for my gratitude.

because ukraine is everything.

those people, those lessons, that life.

being completely consumed in every moment of every day in the work of Him.

being completely consumed in every moment of every day in the needs of others.

i love God.

i used to get a little annoyed when people would say just that--because what does that even mean?

but now, i really know. and i have no other words besides those.

i've been so filled with recognition recently of how much i love Him.

even though there's no real way to fully express that in mortal words.

there are a lot of reasons.

but also,

i'm not really sure i could give you one definitive answer.

i just do.

i love Him. and i love Jesus.

for God so loved [emily], that he sent her to ukraine.

my heart was hollowed out and broken,

but filled again with nothing but the purest love and wisdom.

more than that--with understanding.

and for that opportunity to be his servant for that time,

to love and know his children the way He does?

i will forever gratefully praise His name.

because where God is, there is home.

e.e. cummings always knows.

you are tired,
(i think)
of the always puzzle of living and doing;
and so am i.

come with me, then,
and we'll leave it far and far away--
(only you and i, understand!)

you have played, 
(i think)
and broke the toys you were fondest of,
and are a little tired now;
tired of things that break, and--
just tired.
so am i.

but i come with a dream in my eyes tonight,
and i knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart--
open to me!
for i will show you the places Nobody knows,
and, if you like,
the perfect places of sleep.

ah, come with me!
i'll blow you that wonderful bubble, the moon,
that floats forever and a day;
i'll sing you the jacinth song
of the probable stars;
i will attempt the unstartled steppes of a dream,
until i find the Only Flower,
which shall keep (i think) your little heart
while the moon comes out to the sea.

--e.e. cummings

courtesy of megan beth,

the one who always seems to find

the words that say it best.

это она.

ps. the twinkle light photos probably aren't getting old anytime soon. #sorrynotsorry

at my head, below my feet.

hi, bloggity world.

it's been awhile.

i think there are around five humans (on a good day)

who actually ever used to read this little blog, at least on a somewhat regular basis.

most of whom are probably related to me, by blood or otherwise.

and at this point there are probably around two.

but even if no one else reads,

i'm a little sad about the lack of recorded anything in this place lately.

just little tidbits.

but that lack, it's meaningful, you know?

just like how emptiness can be significant.

because in that black hole of lack in this semester, it looks a little something like this:

you know that phrase, burning the midnight oil?

:: more to do than there is legitimate time for--in a very literal sense.
:: staying barely caught up, finishing many things just barely before they are needed.
:: waking up early. all the time. going to sleep late. all the time.
:: apps. alltheapps. in all their tedious glory. (don't even get me started on the csdcas.)
:: desperation and near-despair at being on campus for more hours than should be acceptable.
:: a new love of the basement of the hbll. because hardly anyone ever goes there.
:: snarky. especially in the morning. (apologies to meg, and all my roommates.)
:: droughts,frienddates,andpotentialbutprobablyfutilelittlehopes.
:: life-changing experiences with russian literature and all her themes. because those russians are on a level of their own. i wish i had a way to bottle up all the thoughts that have coursed through me. (because here's the thing about russian literature, it's so deep and penetrating, that it's hard for your life not to be changed by it if you're truly allowing yourself to experience it.)
:: those experiences and processes that you must go through yourself, questions that no one can answer for you.
and yet the support anyway by those who try to understand and help where possible. (thanks, ma.)
:: so many things piled on top of each other over and over again, with no release, just flow from one to another.
:: knowing. really really knowing that speech path was made for me. because if i didn't have that, i'd have jumped ship by now. guaranteed probably.
:: texts, phone calls, and emails that go unresponded to for longer than acceptable. because i just can't.
:: #emily'sgoingtogradschool (someday i'll actually finish/write describing this hashtag of importance. i hope.)
:: having stenzie be among the strongest supporters and aids of team #emily'sgoingtogradschool.
:: counting the number of times i've been grocery shopping this semester on probably one hand. maybe both hands, but no more. and. eating random shtuff i buy on campus sometimes. or. living for sometimes entire weeks off of free meals that come in some form or another. (provided that meal is a loosely defined term.)
:: having most of every single day consumed, weekends included.

all of which is best summarized by one of the wittiest of creations in existence--

namely, the west wing [18th and potomac]:

paul hackett: cj, between friends, is the water over your head?

cj cregg: no, the water is exactly at my head.

the water--it's been exactly at my head this semester, sometimes threatening otherwise.
and sometimes, it's just about whatever gets you through the day.
whatever it is that keeps the earth below my feet.
because i was told by jesus all was well, so all must be well.

and that's really the root of it, you see.
that even though this semester has been the bleen of all bleening bleens,
(and if it were even one day more than it already is,
i probably would fall beneath the water even farther than i already have.)
it's almost complete.
and.
i know that which will be. fragments, anyway.
i know it will work out exactly the way it needs to.
and that it will be absolutely glorious.
a marvelous work and a wonder.

plus. THE SEASON OF TWINKLE LIGHTS HAS ARRIVED.

and if that's not cause for celebration, nothing is.

#copingmechanisms

here's to twinkle lights, catching breath, and catching up eventually on all those waiting things.

see you soon(er than before).

this woman i love.

   there’s this woman i love named tomara. i wish i knew what relation to compare her to. perhaps an aunt, perhaps a grandmother, perhaps a cousin. but. no relationship seems to quite describe it, so i guess maybe i’ll just stick with her being this woman i love. labels are inadequate like that.

   this woman i love was waiting for me two years ago, though i think she’d been waiting without knowing much longer than that. when my heart has it’s yearnings for that which i can’t define or explain, for that which includes a world beyond this one, i think she’s one of the faces of that love. my ghița relationship and my tomara relationship are similar to me in that way—they don’t quite seem to fit in the pragmatics of this world. rather, they are in a world all their own. a world inside my eternity.

   this woman i love, i love. and i leave to god to order and provide. on stankovaya 4. did you know, the first time we went to her home, it took four busses and going in circles to get there? but in the end we got there. because nothing can separate us from tomara. nothing at all.

   tomara was baptized two years ago, the next day gifted the holy ghost. 17 and 18 november 2012. it’s been two years. those days were so fragile, so susceptible to falling apart. the things we care most about in life always are that way: on the brink of either falling apart or being one of the most wonderful aspects of our existence. but she did it. she made it. and. every piece of everything is baby steps since then.

   i’m not sure when i first fell in love with tomara. maybe when watching her light up with surprise when we gave her flowers the first time we met her. or maybe when watching her light up as she told us about the passage she’d read in alma 32. or maybe watching her light up with understanding of her divine nature and role as a daughter of god. or maybe watching her soul light up as it filled with peace after having the holy ghost conferred upon her.

   have you noticed the pattern? it’s a pattern of light.

   if i had ever been an investigator rather than born into the church, i am nearly convinced that i’d be just like tomara. obstinate and resistant, but all the same-sometimes secretly, sometimes openly-delighted. because. because deep down she really, really knows. and yet. it’s so hard sometimes for her to believe. so hard for her to understand based on the life she sees around her. because how can it all ever find harmony with the ideal amidst the reality? because all she wants is understanding. to gain knowledge.

   maybe my favorite moment of all was the surprise of seeing her one more time before leaving ukraine, almost a year after having first met her, 10 months after parting for what we expected to be forever. the way she looked at me and i looked at her. the way she noticed that i was taller. the way we sat in a surreal return to what had been. the way i saw so clearly in that night how much i had experienced and how i’d changed in those months. the way she went to the kitchen to peel potatoes and feed us food she couldn’t afford, but was dying to give as an expression of care. the way she asks her questions and i can see the way her thoughts process and come to resolution in the form of a new question. the sparkling blue of her eyes and the unmistakeable half smile that lights her face as she tilts her head slightly forward in a shy and unexpected delight.

   i don’t know where this woman i love is now. i have an unreliable address that i can attempt to send mail to, if that. but no real way to mutually communicate or contact her in the midst of her world. especially now. nevertheless, i know god is with her. he loves her, he wants her to have her answers. he sees her struggle and knows her intent.

and someday, in the end, all safe and blessed, we shall meet at last.

there just aren't any words that could describe a love like this, for words would be far too constraining.

the piece of my eternal kind of family i never knew i was missing.

the love i have for my toma.

(because i meant to record this over a month ago.)

on the way to general conference, i chitter chatted with some elders

who are in the same mission as one of my ukraine sister former companions.
and then we chitter chatted about the work of salvation.
on the way home from conference, i met a man from south korea on trax.
his name is hun.
we are best friends.
we talked about what he's doing here in america.
we talked about what he studied in university.
we talked about what i'm studying.
we talked about russian literature.
(because everyone loves tolstoi and dostoyevski.)
and just a little chitter chat about a little of everything.

these are the things my mission gave me.
these are the moments i miss.

#transportwithdrawals

sometimes i'll purposefully sit outside on campus for awhile.

reading or studying. (but not really.)

people watching. reading people. because i reaaallly like observing.

and nine times out of ten:

someone i know (or maybe didn't know until then) comes by for a chitter.

the best kind of sanity study break.

ever since my mission, i have this tendency.

not only a tendency, but a need to be filled.

this desire to just be outside among people.

just being there, to see who i see, talk to who i may talk to.

(kind of like this woman says.)

because a good ninety percent of life is showing up,

being in a place at a time where someone else also finds themselves.

this need to be outside.

this need to be among the people.

take those first steps out the door.

crossing the threshold.

that first moment is always hardest.

but if you give life a chance,

for better or for worse,

it's always worth it.

tea for two.

this is iraida on 3 november 2012. and behind her--that bald man in a grey jacket? that's our sasha.

so, those seven drafts are still just sitting there,

but today is an important day.

3 november.

two years ago today, two lives began.

one as an infant, and one anew.

our babushka iraida was baptized on this day two years ago.

Ираида Васильевна.

in our golden, beloved хтз.

two days after that, at internet i found out that my first niece was born that day too.

(over a month early, might i add.)

when we were together that fall, meg and i decided that one day, one of us will write a book.

(among others. maybe.)

a book that will be given the title iraida's apples.

iraida is the mother/mother-in-law/grandmother of some of my favorite people i've ever known.

the Клюев (klyuev) family.

there aren't enough words in all the world to explain or express them to you.

all missionaries adore them, and their family is one of god's greatest gifts to missionary work in ukraine.

but. there's something special about them to me.

this was my first area in ukraine, you see.

and we were not only in their branch, but also lived in their area of the branch borders.

so many of my memories of the beginning of my mission are tied to this family and being with them.

lessons in their home, teaching iraida at her home, coordinating lessons, planning her baptism.

there was so much goodness within them. so much love and acceptance. understanding and caring.

because they take everyone.

and to me, they were family, each reminding me of a piece of my own personal family-immediate and extended.

because iraida.

this stunning, wise now-85-year-old woman.

was so patient with my practically incompetent state. had already lived through so much.

made us borscht, gave us apples (every. single. time.), made delicious potatoes. (pasha's fav.) 

(seriously. those things were dannggg good. we never could recreate them.)

do you know what it was that really clinched it for her?

seeing her family. seeing the long-term effects in the lives of those who had joined the church--

a stark comparison against those who had not.

and because she really, really loves the lord.

i don't think she ever really needed us. but oh, how we needed her.

i don't talk about хтз enough. may i tell you about it--just a little?

this place. the letters for the area stand for 'kharkov tractor factory.'

there's a metro stop nearby ours by that name. tractor factory.

(наступна станция--тракторный завод.)

i was brand new in ukraine at this time. meg had just come from a looong, hard summer.

and here we were put in the most unlikely of places.

an almost-always-elder's-area.

an apartment that. well. let's just say. it only went up from there.

at the farthest eastern edge of the city.

we hadn't a clue what we were doing. me especially.

riding on faith, golden fall leaves, and sunshine that burned their way into winter.

seeing so frequently more and more reasons for exactly why we were there.

me and meg specifically. 

over and over again.

why we were with each other.

why we were in that branch.

why we were in that area of that branch.

and why we were in the very apartment/yard of buildings that we were in.

because there were people for us there.

people who we needed, and people who needed us.

including one another.

people that are pieces of our forever.

i couldn't list all their names. because some of them, i don't even know their names.

i just know that they are.

i just know that we were there by the hands of god.

that he watched over every last minute.

that he protected us. in a literal, physical sense.

and opened our eyes to things as they truly are capable of being.

all that gold.

for meg, so that she may heal.

for me, so that i may see what could be. so that i would stay even after gold turned to grey.

for both of us, so that we may love. пусть-ed in happiness.

a golden time of golden hearts.

so yeah, maybe хтз is a kind of ghetto, kind of sketchy (VERY) place.

but. to me?

it will always be home.

our own dusty, golden home.

12 апреля. дом 4. квартира --.

stay gold. where i can get back to you.

i should know. the record stands.

i have a (growing) collection of drafts of things that i need to write.

seven, at the given moment.

things about significant experiences.

things about thoughts i've had or reactions to articles.

mostly just. recording life.

those significant things that tap on your soul as if to say,

remember this moment. remember this truth. remember this life.

but for now it's a growing collection.

the started that hasn't yet found place or time for becoming the finished.

i had a dream last night.

i've had a lot of weird dreams lately, so let's just stick with last night.

because it was one of those tapping moments.

screaming the need for recognition and acknowledgement.

screaming significance.

i've been thinking a lot lately about the perspectives and attitudes of people within my major.

especially now, in the final semester courses.

and. frankly.

the variation in levels of dedication somewhat surprises me.

but so it is.

it's a field that requires further education and training, though not everyone does.

then i've been thinking about myself and how my perspective has changed through the course of university.

in my dream, i was in an interview for grad school at a certain school.

which is weird because they don't even do interviews for my program,

and also because it was a very atypical interview.

but, the point was that it was saying this:

i'm going to grad school. for all the right and most important reasons.

(more about this later. that is. if i ever get around to it.)

before my mission, i knew that this was what i was supposed to do.

on top of which, i was also nearly done with my undergraduate career.

plus that i've planned to go to grad school since around sixth grade.

(though, at that time i had no idea what i would be pursuing,

nor did i realize what i'd be getting myself into.

life seemed much simpler then.)

the difference between before and after?

i long ago knew it was right, but now i know why.

romania began the process and showed me pieces.

ukraine delivered the rest and solidified the answers.

because i can see. because i can listen.

so that i may facilitate the process of a human soul,

so that i may enable others to become all they're capable of, and be connected in that process.

whether that becoming is from the beginning parts of life,

or returning after a hiccup along the way that necessitates a new path in the same direction.

the record stands.

because i'm becoming too.

and this is my path right now. this is my life.

this is my focus. it's supposed to be.

and as jilly and i always used to say while on the mountain:

всё будет.

дальнейшее движение.

а поезды--мне нравиться.

i like trains. and planes. and trams.
because i like the process.
the movement.

i like spring and autumn most of all.
because i like the transition.
the movement.

because in those times is when you truly see
the change.

those wheels of a dream.

last night i had a dream that i was doing speech assessments with my nieces.
but it was mostly just a language sample, which means we were mostly just playing.
i blame it on the therapy videos in regards to language development that i was watching last night.
(while working on grad apps.)
slp related things have officially entered my subconscious.
what does it mean?
i need more sleep. or a vacation to ithaca.
or both.
carry on.

song of the day: wheels of a dream, ragtime

a star danced, and under that was i born.

God hath made me to laugh,

so that all that hear will laugh with me.

genesis 21:6

(i like this photo. because. we all look happy. relieved. because it was a long, long week. and here is our momentary reprieve.)

last night, we with some friendlyfriends, plus some others not pictured,

(i know. i have friends? it's rare.)

went to see much ado about nothing performed outdoors at byu.

performed by actors from the london stage. as in, london, england.

so i could fangirl for quite awhile about how well done it was (SOGOOD), but i'll spare you.

(you're welcome.)

it's a comedy. and these five actors played all parts.

by comedy of errors, that made it even funnier.

add the provo community audience, and you have yourselves a winner of all winners.

(though when william shakespeare is involved, when is it not a winner?)

funny, i tell you. really really funny.

there we sat, on the front row of a set of bleachers.

there i was, with stage lights from the side opposite hitting both the stage and me,

a slight wind blowing on an early autumn evening warmer than its usual chill,

intermittent drops of threatening sprinkles.

and there it is.

the art of theatre.

and there i was.

laughing.

laughter, you see. it used to come so easily to me.

all through my childhood, i couldn't count the number of times people would say,

'emily laughs easily. she laughs at almost anything.'

but ever since i don't know when (in the past two years sometime), it doesn't anymore.

real, raw-reactionary, throw-back-your-head-carelessly laughter.

sometimes. but not often.

i don't laugh the way i used to.

and last night, i realized.

it was the first time in awhile that i laughed.

that i truly laughed and let go of anything else.

because.

god hath made me to laugh.

and so i did.