June 27, 2011


First, happy birthday to my beautiful mother! I love you very much mommy!

Second, a random note: I am currently watching "Kiki's Delivery Service" for the fourth or fifth time within two weeks. It's my favorite Miyazaki film and I'm making my niece watch it. I'm only hoping that it will become her favorite that way we can watch it ALL the time. All day erryday. Not that I'm not already doing that. She can now say Kiki. 

Onto my post.

Would you believe me if I told you I made these?
Illia's paperweight. I accidentally uploaded hers instead of mine.



Glass flower.
Well, you better believe it, buddy. This weekend, my family and I vacationed in Vermont, which, in my opinion, is one of the more beautiful states in America.
Isn't it magnificent?
My dad offered me two choices: learn how to blow glass or be pampered at a spa. I was seriously conflicted. I love a good massage...but I absolutely love learning new things, even if it internally scars me (skateboarding, summer of 2009: I still don't have feeling in a small part of my right thigh), or sets off an expensive journey to master many instruments (violin, piano, trumpet, guitar, ukulele, drums, bass guitar...and now banjo? mandolin?). Obviously, I chose to blow glass. My older sister and my mom went to the spa and Illia accompanied me. My wonderful dad stayed at the motel and watched my niece. Thank you daddy-o!

I stepped into the building from a humid environment into a overheated workshop. There were two blazing furnaces. Needless to say, the excess heat got to me.
But it was awesome. And I want to make more. Our teacher, Andrew, described it as legal crack. You have the power to create at your fingertips and it's so satisfying to see the results. At first, Andrew asked me if I ever did pottery.

"Yes, I have," I said.

"Were you any good?"

"No." And I really wasn't. I had added too much water so my clay practically slipped off the wheel. 

"Oh. Then you'll probably suck at this."

But I proved him wrong. It turns out I'm a pro.
The start of my vase.
The molten glass pulled like laffy-taffy. I was super tempted to touch it half the time. I know, I know..."Are you crazy Eden? That's like a bajillion degrees!" I know. I am crazy. Confession: I am also tempted to step straight into a biker's path everytime I hear one creeping up behind me. 

Could you just imagine the collision? 

June 20, 2011

My current life; 6/20

An update on my life. Stimulating, I know.

From June 10th to the 12th, I was in New York...
...attending a Bible conference for young single adults;
...bumping into my visiting teacher from BYU;
...living in an apartment for two nights belonging to a family who I never met before, but were extremely hospitable and generous to me;
...watching half of "She's All That" and "True Grit";
...perfecting my skills in riding/figuring out subway;
It's confusing, but doable. (What a weird-looking word...doable, doable...)
...and listening to the testimonies of L. Tom Perry, Quentin L. Cook, and Senator Harry Reid.

On June 14th, I wrote a song with my guitar teacher about shooting a cow. Lyrics will change. Eventually.

On June 18th, I was...
...in Flushing, Queens getting a hair cut;
Before: pixel-y and confused.
After: short hair and confused.
...attending a wedding reception, where there was a square dance, and where I realized that I like the banjo--meaning, I will probably end up playing it by the end of this summer. (But, dilemma...this summer, should I perfect the trumpet or take up the banjo? I can do one or the other, but I can't decide what I want to do more...help me decide!)

Today, I will partake of my first chili cheese dog, which, according to friends, is "quite the experience." Wish me luck as I embark on this new adventure.

And from June 12th till now: I've been hanging out with my sisters and my niece, who calls me Eddy (and dubbed my laptop "Elmo," since we frequently watch "Elmo's World" on it). Today, she added two new words to her vocabulary: "Come" and "What?" I'm probably more enthralled than you are, but if for the last couple days you've been hearing "No way! No way No way!" from a tiny little toddler, you'd find new words are exciting too.

And here's a song to end this post:

Have a wonderful week, my beautiful friends.

June 13, 2011

Meryl Streep and tuna fish sandwiches.

I walked up and down the aisles. There was no sound except for the noise coming from the rusting cogs of the assembly belts . The women working the line reminded me of my elementary school lunch ladies: old and perpetually grumpy (and understandably so). They were machines, moving only to grab their part for the ensemble. My Humanities lecture on Charlie Chaplin's "Modern Times"suddenly became very real to me.

The shelter stunk of tuna fish. No surprise there, though. They were assembling tuna fish sandwiches.

"And here is where we end our tour," Meryl Streep informed me. She then proceeded to top off the last sandwich on the belt with another slice of bread. Out of all the homeless shelters and soup kitchens in Connecticut, I chose the one Meryl runs.

One bajillion points for Eden.

Two supervisors barged through the door and stopped in front of Meryl, who motioned to the incinerator in the corner. Suddenly, as if Meryl had flipped a switched, all the women in the shelter lunged for the sandwiches that were in front of them and ran to feed the fiery furnace.

"Wha--what's going on?" I stuttered. I quickly glanced out the window. The hungry were there waiting to be fed...
...but their meal had just been delivered to the devil.

"They don't deserve food." Meryl muttered.

"But you're a soup kitchen. You're supposed to give them food."

"They stole my child."

I was puzzled.

"These people, these homeless, hungry people, took my child."

Infuriated, I tackled the nearest woman and stopped her from throwing her tuna fish sandwich away. I was going to feed the hungry, even if I was to do it alone.

I awoke in a sweat, my heart racing. I knew what I had to do this summer.

End of my strange short story.
Yes, this was a dream I had last night (hence Meryl Streep and her grudge against homeless people). I think it was triggered by the fact that I was called to be a Day of Service specialist (along with Linea...Linea, how do we always end up having the same calling?) and, automatically, my super ambitiousness took over as I concocted ideas. What if I ended world hunger?

If only I could.

June 9, 2011

New and old music obsessions: Dia Frampton and Coldplay

First, the new. Dia Frampton.

I've listened to and liked her stuff before in Meg & Dia, but her blind audition and her battle round didn't blow me away (I also personally felt everyone in the battle rounds did not do well overall). Tuesday night on "The Voice" changed everything and I jumped on the bandwagon. I love Dia Frampton.
(the video I had embedded didn't end up embedding...but this video is worth watching for sure.)

Second, the old. Coldplay.
I had no other reason to put up this picture except for the fact that it is very aesthetically pleasing to the eye.
In other words, they're really attractive.
Coldplay, who I love with great passion and have an undying loyalty to, came out with a new single last week.
Coldplay is definitely evolving, but even in Viva la Vida, they hearkened back to their own unique style, to the style that I found in Parachutes, their first and my favorite album. It was this album that made me love them.
I continued to find more and more favorites, but I've finally settled on one:
But then I heard "Reign of Love" (note that I also love "Lovers in Japan") and I am still torn between these two songs.
I think it's Chris Martin's distinguishable voice, beautiful falsetto, and movingly expressive lyrics that has me listening to him for hours and waiting anxiously for the day Coldplay's new album is released.

June 6, 2011

Road rage.

I find that I become a completely different driver driving from Connecticut...
into New York.
Asian Invasion, Speed Racer.
I live about ten minutes from the Connecticut/New York border. The second I cross it, I start speeding up, the cars start honking, and everyone's road rage starts kicking in. (The speed limits I have up in my pictures are accurate. It almost doubles just by passing the "Welcome to New York" road sign.)

If you've been in my car with me, you'll notice that my road rage is rather polite.

"Excuse me, um, sir or madam. Um, I don't think you should be doing that. Oh, okay, I guess I'll let you through even though it's my right-of-way."

Illia, on the other hand, has heard different things. At different volumes.


I can only imagine what me yelling looks like to other people. I mean, I am confined by pounds of metal and glass so anything that happens within the walls of my car becomes a game of charades to drivers.
I'm no good at charades.

Illia has also been with me when I was in weird moods in the car.
Left: Illia; Right: Eden
Parks and Recreation
On a completely different note, I've developed an addiction to these ice cream bars. My mom got these WeightWatchers "GIANT Cookies & Cream Bar" and I've been eating them like crazy. (It defeats the purpose, I know, but hey, I was never on a diet in the first place. My mom thought they looked good and got them.) The ice cream just melts in your mouth.

It's manna from heaven.