Raging, Ranting, Raving, and Rhapsodizing

Tolkien and I have a brief history- not like the lifelong love affair I've had with CS Lewis. JRR and I just never had that spark, that chemistry. I started reading The Hobbit when I was 11 or 12, on a backpacking trip with my dad, and didn't make it past the first chapter. Around when the first Lord of the Rings movie came out, Amy and my dad read all 3 LOTR books and wouldn't shut up about them*, which led me to attempt them (I failed again). Two years ago (ish) I read the first three chapters of The Silmarillion and nearly died of boredom.

I don't know what made me pick up the Hobbit again- perhaps a whim, perhaps a gnawing sense of failure as a lover of literature; having not read any of Tolkien's work, how dare I refer to myself as an avid reader? How can I claim companionship with Lewis when Tolkien, the father of the fantasy genre, sits unread on my bookshelf, stuffed between Orwell and Huxley? Maybe that's a little unfair- George MacDonald did theological fantasy first (Tolkien just did it better). In any case, I haven't been able to put it down- I think I've just grown up enough since my last assault on this novel, and though my mind is full of Hollywood imagery, I'm planning on reading all 3 LOTR next. Screw all the other books on my list, they can wait.

*It's really annoying to watch movies based on books you haven't read with more than one person who has read the book. Especially when these people are the picky sort with good memories who find it necesssary to point out all the discrepancies in chronology or wardrobe or dialogue or whatever. And you're dumb enough to complain about it so they start referring to scenes and situations from the NEXT book in a vague and mysterious fashion. And they fail to tell you about the monstrous execrable evil spider in the second book even though they know you're an arachnaphobe.

I only needed one lesson to get some sick air (and dress like a dude).

Of course, that's not me. I'm a liar. Anyway, it's official: I am no longer crap at snowboarding, and I shall never ski again. We went again on Saturday and I made a breakthrough. I can now honestly say that I'm carving and improving quicker than Stephen thought I would. Amy came too, and did great. It was fun seeing two of my favorite people, my fiance and my sister, joking and getting along. Amy didn't even cry, like I did my first day (though, in my defense, conditions that day were awful).

I discovered that fear was the only thing keeping me from doing what I wanted to do, which seems to hold true for me in a lot of other ways. The only thing stopping me was mental, and once I overame my fear of falling down or failing, it was easy and I had fun the whole day. Also, I am proud to report that I was able -barely- to put on my bra without help the next morning (see my 11/16 post).

I still have a long way to go before I can keep up with Stephen. He's been very gracious in his willingness to take it easy and teach me (and he says he appreciates the chance to practice riding switch), but I want to be able to ride with him without slowin him down. Happily, my cousin David is coming with us on Friday and he's good, so Amy and I can practice on the greens while the boys go rock the outback.

On a different topic, Stephen and I are saving for our honeymoon and have therefore decided not to exchange gifts. We thought of each putting a certain amount into a joint savings account (boring, but wise) or just buying something that we want (like a digital camera).

Which leads me to this subject of money: I keep thinking how wierd it is that my money will not strictly be mine anymore, nor his strictly his. It doesn't bother me, it's just... wierd. I'm used to keeping and spending my money the way I see fit, and I think I do a wiser job about it than most people. It's how my daddy raised me, and it's why Stephen and I decided that I'll be the one managing our money when we get married. Soon, I'll be accountable for how I handle my-our bank account. I can't just spend and save as I see fit. I have to think of what's best for both of us and I have to include someone else in my decisions, which, like I said, is WIERD. It's a stretch- I suppose it's a good wierd. I've been thinking hard about living selflessly and serving the people you love. Stephen brings out the best qualities in me- traits I never knew I had. It sounds cheesy, but Stephen makes me a better woman, and I make him a better man. We've grown together, and our prayer is that we'll continue to do so.

Hey everyone (everyone being my 3 readers- I 'preciate ya'll!), check it out! I got a whole post dedicated to my coolness on Surface Tension just for posting a comment. His blog made me laugh the way you do in junior high when your friend makes faces at you from accross the room during social studies and you don't want to get in trouble. So you laugh that stifled snort, and then a manager walks past your desk, and you try to cover it up by making it sound like you're coughing, but you over-compensate and make some kind of unnatural hacking noise... anyone ever had that happen? No? What I'm saying is Thom's blog is funny, and you should go read it.

I've been told (by Stephen) that I have a "distinctive laugh". He said it's one of my traits that he was initially attracted to. He noticed my laugh the first time we listened to Mitch Hedberg together (very romantic, ja?) in the car heading up to the mountains for a day hike.

I'm that obnoxious woman in the movie theater who laughs loud (REALLY loud) during the whole movie. Also, my comic sensibilities are not very... refined... so I tend to laugh not only when everyone else laughs, but when it's not appropriate, or at things not perceieved as funny by the typical audience. A wierd, twisted sense of humor runs in my family and it's something I love about myself. I love to laugh and I don't care if no one else is laughing with me. I'm amused by the discomfort my unbridled merriment sometimes elicits in people, but find that more often than not, people like to laugh with me- joy really is contagious. I don't mind making a fool out of myself. At least I enjoy life.