Sunday, October 28, 2007

inspired.

What do an illuminated manuscript, a cuneiform, a papyrus sheet, a hand-written copy of Wycliffe's English Bible, and a first edition of the Book of Mormon have in common? They are all conveniently located in BYU Special Collections. My humanities class took a field-trip to Special Collections (the bottom floor of the Library) to see the presentation. It was absolutely amazing. The librarian was honestly holding the cuneiform inches from me. I could see the sparkling gold leaf of the illuminated manuscript as my teacher brought it around for me to see. I touched a sheet of papyrus. I saw a first edition of the Book of Mormon. One of the most amazing things, though--to me at least--was the copy of Wycliffe's translation of the Bible to English. I don't know if you all know the story, so I will explain a bit. During Wycliff's life, English was a common language--a dirty language, really--and not considered good enough for the holy words of scripture. It was basically blasphemy to translate the Bible to English. And, in fact, many people were killed for trying to do so or for supporting Wycliffe. But still he translated. At the time, the printing press was not yet in existence; so his supporters hand-copied his translation. The Bible--they hand-copied the entire Bible! Before Wycliffe translated the Bible, the common people who could not speak the language of the Bible could not read it, so were left to trust their religious leaders' interpretations. But Wycliffe brought the Bible to the masses--and died for it. Because of him, English became a more accepted language for academic and religious prose. The Word of God spread. And in the 19th century, the Book of Mormon was able to come forth.
I don't know exactly why this is so cool to me. I think part of it is that I am studying English, both the literature and language. My major wouldn't exist had John Wycliffe not started the English-language revolution. I also think, really, that I am impressed and inspired by his conviction. It has been a tough semester, and I have often felt like giving up. I sometimes feel like my major is kind of silly--interesting, but useless, really, beyond knowing how to read and interpret a text. But then I see this Bible...and I realize that someone else thought English was important, too--important enough to die for. English was the root of a revolution. This may sound cheesy, but I really think English is an inspired language, the language of the Restoration. And that, perhaps, is why I am studying English.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Dreams-- the real kind

Megan and I spend quite a few hours each week at Sizzler(we work there). We also spend time each night after work sharing funny stories about people at our tables and venting about co-workers that don't get their crap done or whatever because we are typically too busy to do so at work. I, way too often than I feel is normal, have dreams about Sizzler. Sometimes it is like a dream place to work and everyone leaves $100 bills, but most of the time it is more like a nightmare where I am the only one serving and there is a line of people out the door and people are yelling at me. Last night I had a Sizzler dream that took it to the next level. Here is how it went down in my dream. Megan and I were the only two servers and there was a big line. We were both running around trying to get everything taken care of. I had lady at a table yell at me because I took too long to get her more shrimp. The lady was freaking out. I walked away and started taking care of some other things. The lady walks up to me and says "We are leaving without the shrimp so don't worry about bringing it now. Oh and by the way we are never coming back." I think to myself big deal I would rather not have you come back. She turns around and reaches in to my apron were I keep my tips (this is akward because it is personal space and also the pocket with the money is in the middle of my apron and hangs directly over my crothch). She pulls out two ten dollar bills and says "I am taking this because you not only don't deserve a tip you should have to pay me because you suck so bad." She walked away. I dropped my tray of dirty dishes on the ground, walked up to her, spun her around, punched her as hard as I could in the stomach and grabbed my money back from as she was writhing in pain. Serves her right. I woke up after this violent act half laughing and half scared at myself for beating up a woman in my dream. I think it might be time to look for a new job that doesn't make me want to hurt people.

p.s. My favorite story from a table at work is this statement from a daughter to her mother about one of the girls schoolmates:
Oh my gosh mom, her mom is sooooo strict. She cant even say astronaut, she has to say bumstronaut.

Monday, October 22, 2007

Our new ride

No we are not handicapped, we haven't switched the plates yet.


This is our new car. It is a 99 taurus and came to us thanks to Megan's grandparents through her parents. We are very excited and blessed to have it. Thats about it.


Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Sunday, October 14, 2007

"You look just like that murderer I saw on the news"

So I was on fall break from school this Thursday and Friday. We have fall break because hunting season started and no one would go anyway. I live in Utah, what else can I say. Anyway I spent the break not killing large animals with big guns but relaxing at home. I played my guitar and broke a string. I went to the local music store to pick up some strings. This place is really weird. Upon walking in the door you are confronted with a patio set that is not an any order and stacked with fake plants and a sprinkler head and random crap(none of which is for sale). Once you make it through the thrift store entrance, there are semi-normal music store things. There is a show floor with pianos and saxophones etc... and an old guy napping at his desk with a camouflage hat on (hunting season, again). I tiptoed past the old guy only to be confronted by his wife in the guitar section of the store. She turned around and I was there and she kind of jumped and made a whoop of sorts, they don't seem to have many customers I don't think she was used to seeing people in the store. I apologized and walked over to the guitar string rack, standing with my back to the woman. She had been making small talk up to this but then it turned even more awkward. She said "maybe I shouldn't tell you this but you look just like that murderer they picked up in salt lake that I saw on the news last night." I responded "oh?" what do you say when someone tells you you look like a mass murderer? I don't have a programmed response for that. She said (while I looked at her, baffled by her previous statement)"well not exactly his hair is bushier than yours." thanks lady, so now I have bushy hair. I left the lady after picking out my strings and went to pay the other guy in the store. This guy was wearing work boots with no socks, camouflage shorts(not the cool fashionable at all ones but the army-navy surplus kind. hunting season) and a shirt from the local middle school. I paid and left as quickly as I could so I could start marveling at these people's lives. Amazing