FINALS AT THE STEVE!!!

So Meghan and I are studying for finals, come and learn from our dos and don'ts. Please pardon my bad color scheme, and hair do. Its finals give me a break. ENJOY!!

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Well so it seems I can't put the actually video up so I will just link it BUT CHECK IT OUT!!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uXZXHyxvKQ8&feature=mfu_in_order&list=UL


THANKS SO MUCH FOR VIEWING!!!


HAPPY FINALS

DW

Today is Beautiful...

It is that moment of the year when we reflect on what we are thankful for. So I will ask the question you that you have probably been asking to other and have probably been asked like a trillion times today. What are you thankful for? I am thankful for my family, my friends. I am thankful my sister had such an amazing opportunity this week in NYC and I am thankful for the time I have had to spend with my other sister. I am thankful my dad is home this year and that my mother is having a mother daughter getaway and that my brother is working hard. I am thankful for the people I go to school with and the family I have established here in Columbia, I am also thankful for my friends back home which I can't wait to see in 21 days. As we look at the feasts we make ourselves and  enjoy this evening. Think of those who can't be so lucky. During this week with my sister, Amanda, we came across some pretty obvious homeless people sitting on the side walk downtown. As we passed by they asked if we had an spare change, when we said sorry we didn't they said, "Oh that's fine, I hope you both have a very Happy Thanksgiving and Happy Holidays." They were very sweet and today I found this video and it made me think... how lucky am I to be thankful for what I have.

Be thankful that we can give, be thankful we don't have to beg, be thankful we for our environment, but most of all be thankful that we can see. That we can see the beauty of the day and of life, and be thankful that we can see the evils of it too so we can learn. But in all just be thankful. 

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!!

DW

The One Cent Wonders

I am officially on Thanksgiving Break. As most people headed home to spend turkey day around a table with their families, I stayed in my room and cleaned. Yesterday my baby sister Amanda flew in from Alabama to stay with me for the week. So after Meghan left at noon on Friday mission Danielle Cleans Room. Meghan adores cleaning so I  haven't really cleaned that much this year. And I swear that after I informed her she didn't need to clean because I would take care of it, the mess multiplied. I began cleaning at around 3 in the afternoon and didn't finish till close to really late that night. Of course this long cleaning time includes my procrastination moments (those are more frequent than I truly care to admit). Since  had done laundry for quite a while I started there, I began searching through my gold patterned box where I keep all my coins for quarters. Have you ever been amazed how quickly coins collect? You have that one place where you stick all your spare change, whether it be a jar, a piggy bank, maybe even the bottom of your purse. And you are surprised when one day you realize that the bottom of it is lined with pennies, dimes, nickels, and the occasional token for the splurge at the arcade. Well this is the case with my gold patterned box.

It amazed me as I removed the lid to this box just how many coins had accumulated over the course of a quite a while. When it comes to coin collecting we become robots, we find a coin laying around pick it up and place it in our place for coins, we don't realize how many we actually pick up till we actually take the time to look. I decided to stack them all and after I started looking a bit like Scrooge, I noticed that pennies out numbered the other coins by a significant amount. 

The penny is an interesting coin. CHALLENGE: go to the place where you keep your coins and grab a  handful of pennies. Look at the design, the little letter, honest Abe's head. Pay close attention to the year. As I did this with my own collection I noticed a surplus of 2000's and up and a lot from the 1980's. To me it is surprising how something that was created before I was even a thought in my parents head can end up in my hand. After I set down a penny from 1987 the next coin in my hand was a 1992 coin. Now in case you don't know, that was the year I was born. It was created the same time I was and was sent out into the world before I was. This one penny has probably been to more places then I will ever be able to go. But somehow we both ended up at Stephens. Somehow all these coins have traveled through time and have ended up in my gold patterned box. Pennies are like mini time capsules created in one moment and will still be the same in future generations. When I looked through penny after penny I finally found my oldest penny.....

Incase you can't tell, its from 1945. I don't know if I am just easily amused and find this way too fascinating but this on little tiny bit of copper has been working since 1945 and now is owned by some 19 year old in Missouri. Just think the amount of people who have held this since the time of its creation. They are never changing in a very changing world. As we change our view on religion it has kept a strong and sturdy stance. When people question the government the currency believes in one single quality, liberty. A penny is a constant reminder that we make to much of a fuss over everything. And every once in a while we need to have that reminder. Pennies are relicts from the past that are a constant reminder of a time that none of us will see. next time you notice that small penny laying on the sidewalk, don't allow our history and values to be walked on allow it to live on by picking it up and appreciating it. 

I have been told that my blog can be cheesy or philosophical in nature. But this is just a penny for your thought! hahahahahahahahahhahahahahahaaaaaaa

DW

Change is a Hairy Situation

Well it has been quite a week here at the Steve. Many things are beginning to change and it has cause a lot of tension particles to float in the air. Change no matter how big or small is a frightening thing. Since this week brought many changes for us it is natural that we sought out to change other things. While walking through the aisles of our local Walmart, we found ourselves in with all the hair care products. (I had coupons for some free products it was nifty.) When I looked back I noticed that Meghan was staring at the hair dye. She had been wondering for a while how she would look as a brunette. After going back and fourth on colors we made our way to check out. Neither of us could really believe that we were actually going to dye her hair. It was just a Wednesday night and instead of doing homework we were dying Meghan's hair. She seemed soooo excited. She asked if I would help her dye it, and probably far too enthusiastic I happily agreed. Meghan by the way is my uber awesome roommate (really couldn't ask for anyone better). So here was our Wednesday night:

Meghan had pretty much platinum blond hair. It was really pretty (as you can see) but she felt it was time for a change.

So she looked through many different colors and brands of hair dye and she finally decide she wanted to some funky name of brown, it had to do with honey brown or something like that. It was only said to last about a month that way if she didn't like it or if I messed up really bad she would only be funny lookin' for like a month. no big deal. Well with hair dye box in hand we were ready for an evening. 

Since I am obsessed with pictures I thought I would fully document our evening of giggles and giant smiles and share it on here. Of course before any big change there must be a before picture. Now the pic of Meghan above is a good testament to her color she had her hair cut since then so this is a more accurate pic of what her hair was like before the transformation.

Don't mind me I was really hyper through this whole thing and one of the things I didn't tell meghan till after was that I had never dyed someone hair before this so I was really nervous too. As I read the directions they included nifty plastic gloves. My "i'm too easily amused" senses start tingling and played with the gloves for awhile.

Then it was time to get down to business!!

Like I stated before I had never really dyed anyones hair before so wasn't quite sure where to begin I mean how hard was emptying a tube of color into a bottle was. Apparently pretty difficult for me to figure out. 

hahaha  Just kidding... I did finally get it!

So we finally went into the bathroom and began Meghan's transformation. As I added the dye the blonde slowly went away and was replaced by a dark brown. A lot darker than we were expecting. As layers of pure blonde changed into a full head of rich dark color it was weird to think meghan wasn't going to be a blonde anymore. It was definitly something that was going to take some getting use to.

After carefully following the directions we applied the dye waited the 10 minutes and then she had to shower. So that meant I had to wait! I don't like waiting

After the entire process was complete the only thing left to do was for Meghan to blow dry her hair. 

It was already a new awesome look for her. after she got done blowdrying it, her hair was more red than brown but it was still awesome and there was no more blonde which means I DID IT RIGHT!!!!

It was more red than she wanted but it was amazing how a simple change to someones hair can make them look older and change someones self of self. 

She has since gone in and had it made darker since she wanted brown and not red. (the beautician said it is common that when blondes go from blonde to brown they usually hit some reddish tones. SO IT WASNT MY FAULT). But Meghan seems pleased overall. 

Change is interesting in the sense sometimes you want it sometimes its just inevitable. But change is simply what we as people make it. Meghan could have simply taken the hair color as it was, but she wasn't satisfied so she changed and worked it till she was happy. In the long run change isn't always in our control but if we take it on ourselves to work it and morph it into our own understand we will be better able to process it and find the happiness with in it. Change is completely defined by our reaction. We can get mad and stay mad and realize that change is going to be harder, or we can get mad get over and move with a positive grace realizing that if we simply stay in a room with closed doors we will never understand the opportunity that awaits us. Meghan is a beautiful brunette now, and still is the best roommate I could ask for. 

DW

I Didn't Know We Could Milk Cats!

So this weekend has been pretty hard. Long story short, an audition didn't go the way I wanted it. Oh well life moves on. Another day another audition. But for some reason I was more down about this one, so the cure for me is just to get off campus for a while. Best place to go: STARBUCKS! A nice place right downtown where I can go and be productive. Well today while most of my friends are at callbacks (CONGRATS TO THOSE WHO GOT A CALLBACK SO PROUD OF YOU!!!) I am sitting in the famous coffee shop. As like any college student who are about to start doing their homework I checked facebook. I had a notification saying that my friend courtney had posted something on my wall. The caption on the link was..."I found this. I thought of you <3" then there was this video. So now I am sitting in starbucks laughing like crazy. I loved it. Gotta love Montana stereotypes!!!!


Enjoy!

DW

The Things Take St. Louis

Meghan, Dylan, and I went to St. Louis for the day, this past friday. IT WAS AWESOME. so here is a new video blog entry describing this journey.

Check it out!!!

DW

You Think People Would Have Had Enough of Silly Love Songs

This past summer during STI we had a show entitled Unbelievable. It was a completely student written show that involved many people writing about what we found to be Unbelievable. I wrote a short little diddy about something I found pretty incredible and that is music and its amazing power over the mind, body and soul. Quickly think about your own meaning of music. Is it a release? Is it a way to get frustrations out? Is it your assurance? Is it your connection to the past, present, and maybe even future? Now think of how we as a world connect with it. They say that music is the universal language. And if we all speak it does it really bring us together? Listen to this mans story.....

What struck me the greatest when I first heard his story was when he said, "He was no enemy, he was scared and lonely just like me." Music makes us human. It humbles us to feel and to realize life as it is. That German sniper knew his duty as solider, to defend his country and bring honor to the Reich. And even this man had his orders, to defend his country and bring honor to the USA. But as soon as we hear music were just a person. Who's only duty is to themselves. "Just like me" These men we as different as they could come during this time but for this one moment they were same, they were connected in their ability to find shelter in music. When you think about it, if music is the universal language and we all have it, why do we fight? Music only knows 7 letters yet it speaks louder than any President, Dictator, Teacher lecture, or sibling argument yet who do we follow? Music crosses five lines yet if we step over one wars and violence ensue. So if we have this universal language why don't we use it. Its because we are so destined on being right, to be the one who is higher up then the person next to us. Here is a challenge, next time you are mad at someone go by yourself somewhere and listen to your favorite song, not the song that fits the mood but your favorite song of all time. Listen to the words, feel the beat, and let the rhythm carry you, understand why it was created. Every song, every lyric, every harmony, and every note was created for a reason, just like you and in the words of Col. John "Just like me."After completing this challenge are you as mad, or upset, or have you come to realize that what ever you were angry or upset about it really didn't matter.  Because if you really think about it we don't have enemies in this worlds, we only have people........ The power of music.


DW

When the Water is the Runner

I have always been a lover of cross country, I was never a runner in said sport but was always a supporter of it. My brother ran it all through high school, and one of my sisters ran from middle school through high school. I always remember screaming and cheering them on but more than that watching them. I would watch their faces. While I would stand at the finish line and watch runner after runner complete their 3 mile race, I would notice the vast assortment of faces they would be making as they ran. You had some with full concentrations, some you could tell that 3 miles was hurting pretty bad, some look determined to pass the person in front of them even if they were quite a ways in front of them. But no matter what look was on their face there was always a thought going on to produce that face. I once asked one of my friends who is an avid runner, "Why would anyone choose to run for so long?" She told me it was a great way to clear your head. Huh? Although the idea of running for pleasure never really struck me, and I was unable to run cross country due to poor ankles that may or may not have been caused by me running away from a bee. But I have always been jealous of those who could run long distances, like my family, so yesterday I decided I would start running.

I got back to my room following my afternoon rehearsal, changed into some workout gear, took two puffs of my inhaler and then double checked with myself that I was actually going to do this. I headed outside into the humid warm air, and as I turned away from tower hall I began to run. I ran down the street and after I past four blocks I started to get a pain in my side. The wuss in me was saying "Hey chicka just Stop!" but not now. I kept running until I arrived at Stephens Lake Park. It is absolutely beautiful and was the perfect setting for my first day running. I made the goal for myself: Run around this entire lake. As I ran I found that I couldn't think of anything except, "Breath Danielle keep breathing DONT DIE!" That during this first lap around the lake I couldn't imagine running long distance when the only thing I could think of was reminding myself not to die. As I completed my first lap, I stopped and let the pride swim over me. But what I realized was I spent the entire lap looking at the ground following my minds direction of not to die on my first time out running. Pride quickly turned to being ashamed, ashamed at the fact that I didn't take in the enviornment around me. So the new goal was to take another lap looking up this time. As I started this next lap I looked up and realized that this was a pleasant day outside. About half way around I realized that this 2nd lap might have been a little ambitious for a virgin runner. As my run turned to walking I looked and saw a gentle waterfall trickling over some rock. One of the unique parts about the lake is the bridge things that connect the shores to a little green island in the middle of the lake. As I walked onto the first bridge I noticed on the green island the perfect sitting rock...

I mad my way out to the perfect sitting when I passed the the bench that you see in the picture. That bench had a plaque on it. There was someones name on it but I don't remember who, but there is one word on that plaque that set the meaning to my running adventure. "Memory" Although in the context of the bench it was to immortalize someone, because someone thought they deserved it. Now I don't if they deserve the bench I didn't know the person but I'm sure they did but then I got another word that added meaning to my run "thought." So as I sat down upon the sun warmed surface of the rock I looked out upon the sapphire lake and put the two words together: memory and thought, both dealt with same thing, the mind. As the concept came to me a little came to a toddler got away from his mother ran by me picked up a stone and throwing into the water. As the parent took her child  back in her arms, I watched the ripples. I watched them spread. I leaned in viewing and saw my reflection in the mirror water. Red faced, hair sticking out everywhere, sweaty, it wasn't my most glamourous moment. Leaning back against my rock I continued looking at the calm again water. I noticed several small fish swimming franticly around. Giggling I began to wonder what were they thinking. Once again I leaned back and just gazed over the horizon of the lake. As the worry's and problems of my own life began to return to my own head, the same problems I was hoping to figure out on my run but I was too busy trying not to die, I began to try to figure solutions or remedies to help the stresses of my world. For a moment I wished I could be water. So pristine and calm and beautiful, I was jealous of the  its incredible appearance. The frantic fish were still swimming along the edge of a rock, apparently trying to sort their own problems out when I realized a lake is no different from our minds. 

Now before you think I have gone off my rocker think about it. As calm we want to appear on the surface something is always moving. At every lake you look at it is always moving it ebbs and flows all the time even at its calmest it is still moving back and forth. Back and forth like our own humanly doubts. We go back and forth on issues, whats right? whats wrong? why yes? why no? they are the true ebb and flow of our minds. Now take those frantic fish, we all have those moments where our own frantic troubles take hold, where we are looking for something or finding the answer to an important question. Our mind is always franticly moving to some answer. Just as small children throw rocks in the lake causing ripples, do others say or do things that create ripples in our minds. Whether it is an insult, that causes us to wonder what we did wrong or what is wrong with us, or a compliment that causes to think a little bit more positive about the world or ourselves. But then I wondered why do we think the way we do. As I looked to the water for answers I heard the trickling answer of the creek water coming down the waterfall. Just the same way that creek water that has hit every rock on its journey and that creek water that has seen the many miles that it rushes past finally makes it to the lake, the people we know and the events that we witness change or cultivate the way we view or think about things. So you wonder where stress comes from, well it comes from fish, children with arms for throwing stones, ebbs and flows, and water that has been traveling for a long time. We all have our own fish, stones, ebbs, flows, and water. And we all release them differently, a lake releases it through a stream that eventually reaches the ocean. We all release stress, thoughts, memories differently. Some place write, some sing, some make music, some complain, some place benches, heck some even run, but no matter what you do it the letting go and allowing your own thoughts to become the creek water to someone elses mind. 

As I felt the sun warming my back as it began to set I got up from my rock and took one last look over the lake. I realized from far away it appears calm but only when you stick your feet in it do you feel the tide. Only when we take a moment to understand the other persons mind do we understand their own thoughts. So next time you say something to someone what kind of ripples are you creating, what stones are you throwing, or are you adding panic to their already existing fish. Or is your wisdom or action adding creek water to the lake. Are we the clear water in someone's mind or are we the pollution? 

DW

P.S. I wrote this at like 1 in the morning, so if there are words missing, I usually skip over somethings when I get to writing. Whoops I will edit some time when I am not tired.

Pen Name

I have a challenge for you. Go home and open that one drawer or bag that keeps all your pens and pencils. The challenge is, can you name where each pen came from? Now I am not talking about this one says 'made in China', but rather, where do you acquire that pen. Was it part of a bulk pack you bought at Walmart or Sam's Club? Maybe you borrowed from your friend, child, or parent and just never gave it back. Or you are probably saying 'I don't know it was just always in this drawer.' Well this is where my story begins.


When I graduated high school one of the things that I really wanted from my mom was a set of her CBEFAA (Cut Bank Education Foundation and Alumni Association) pens. They were long and purple and where my absolute my favorite to write with. So before I left my mom gave me 50 pens wrapped in a rubber band. I remember my first day of Comp 1, new notebook, new pen, new year. It was the greatest thing. Well as the year passed and this new year began I went to get a new pen and realized my stache of 50 was down to 4. I thought where did they all go?!?

 I remember only throwing away one after using all the ink. But where were the other 49 pens. I think of the countless people I lent pens to and those pen hoarders who never gave them back (I am just as guilty as them). I recently went to one of my favorite restaurants here in downtown Columbia, La Siesta. I used to go there all the time with my friend Brooke. Well one time when I was signing my name on my debit card slip I pulled out one of my pens and I must have left it, because when I returned it was still there. Just sitting on the counter, out there for more satisfied customers to sign their names. I can't help but wonder how many names did my little pen write. How many people have held this pen? and if you aren't completely mysophobic, fear of being contaminated by germs, it is a pretty interesting thought. Just the other day I was working on a scene from  The Glass Menagerie by Tennessee Williams. My scene partner, Chrissy, and I met up with our teacher, as we entered the rehearsal space I noticed a little purple thing hanging out on a shelf and was amazed to find my pen just chillin'. How on earth did that pen get from my pencil bag to a shelf that I surely did not put it on. I collected my missing object and took it home with me after the rehearsal. And even more recently, on Monday, I was sitting in my Performance Technique class when my teacher came and between her index and middle finger she had balanced a purple pen. My eyes widened and when I went in with her for some critique on a song, I inquired as to how she came across that pen. She gazed at me kinda funny and said it was just sitting on my desk. When I pulled the twin pen out from my ponytail, where I usually put my pens when I am not using them, her eyes got wide and said, "Huh?." I let her keep the pen, as she stated she liked how it wrote. But just think of how it travelled. First a manufacturer, to Cut Bank High School, to my mom's office, to my pencil case, to my hand, and then somewhere along the line it ends up in a resturant, a rehearsal room, my professors, desk. So suddenly you wonder where the rest of those 50 pens are now and who is writing with them, and how many people did it take to get to where they are now. How many hands have held it, how many people have chewed on the end wondering what to write, how many names has it written, how many mistakes has it made, how many different opinions has it wirtten to answer a question, how many pictures has drawn, how far away from its original setting is it? But one thing for sure is that no matter where it goes it will always be a proud purple pen with a good yellow writing tip, and proudly display the words of the place it represents. Isn't that kinda like us. We travel away from home, we meet different people that help us along our journey, we meet people who "chew" on our nerves, we make mistakes and we try to scribble out the effects of them, but no matter where we go or how far we travel we are always us. We proudly display who we are and where we originate. As you look in your pen drawer what do you see? do you see measly little objects or do you see a connection to life? That might sound pretty corny. In fact I know it does, but next time you hold a pen to write whatever important sentament you need to say just think, how and where did I get this pen. And just in a matter of a short time and a few exchanges someone halfway across the world could hold the same pen and think the same thing. 

Wow did I really just write all that about a pen? wow. nifty!


DW

The Mirrors in Which We Look

This morning I woke up with a 10lb weight on my chest. The realization that 10 years ago I woke up like it was any other day no real emotion, it was just another Tuesday. And now this wasn't just any other Sunday. A true sense of nervousness wrapped us all in a blanket, as we woke up thinking. I know my feeling was probably shared by many. The idea of not getting out of bed, so you wouldn't have to turn on the TV or look outside. The attempt to turn off your mind so you don't have to think about it. And trying to turn off any emotion so you don't have to feel. But doing any of these is no real option. Because we all wake up, we all think, and we all feel. As I took the metaphorical weight off my chest I climbed down from my bunk and I took a deep breath in and looked at my roomie. She gave me a giggle and said "Good morning!" I couldn't tell if she was giggling at the fact that I probably looking pretty funny coming down the ladder, or the fact that the makeup from the evening before was still on my face. I gave her a "Morning'" and shuffled my way to the bathroom. Turning on the hot water to remove the cement off my face I look into the mirror and there it was. One single tear begin forming, as choked back I realized this was where I heard. Through a mirror. As a fourth grader one of the grueling tasks that was part of my daily routine was getting my bangs curled. This things girls suffer for beauty. As an accident pronned 9 year old my mom hadn't quite taught me how to curl them myself. So I would come into her room and sit and she would curl them. I was in the room when she received a phone call. I watched as the color left her face and she quickly grabbed the remote. By then I had gotten off the chest sitting at the end of her bed and moved to the mirror to examine the hair hanging in my eyes. As the tv took a few seconds for the picture to come up I was making faces while my mom eyed the tv. When the picture finally appeared, the corner of my mirror was filled with smoke. I quickly turned around asking my mom what was wrong and why the building was on fire. She responded, "Someone hit them." Someone. She sent me on my way to the bus stop, bangs still uncurled. Someone. This meddled with my mind. The fact that someone hit a building. Why? When the bus pulled up to my elementary school. I just got off, and instead of hanging out outside we were rushed in. To me seeing 'someone' hit a building and being denied my morning recess this was very wrong. I went to my desk and a sat and watched as Mrs. Lewis began teaching. You could see it was difficult for her to teach, something was wrong. Moments later she stopped away, put the marker down, wiped the marking from board and pulled the tv into view. When she turned it on, all there was smoke. The smoke that filled my mirror was quadrupled in my own eyes. The building that 'someone' hit had changed into a lesson. A lesson where little 9 year old 4th grader with bangs hanging in face, learned the meaning hatred. No longer were caddy girls on the playground considered evil, or my sister constantly  annoying me made her a jerk. As I watched the towers fall and the ash and smoke rise, I began crying. Mrs. Lewis quickly seeing my tears pressed the power button. Immediately I shouted, "Turn it back on!!" She obliged and we all sat there silent for 7 hours of our school day watching as our little world turn into chaos.
We all learned, not every lesson is the same for everyone, but we all learned. We watched people die. We couldn't do anything. We were helpless. But have we learned the true lesson. TV stations blarred the idea of a coming together. A great nation United and strong. And as a nation thats true, for a moment. But as the years gone on have we learned the united lesson? This evening I was watching a documentary about the rebirth of freedom. As the haunting images filled the screen I quickly turned before I could display any emotion. As I flipped through the channels I saw 3 channels where girls where slapping other girls. 2 channels where I guys where screaming in each others faces. And 4 channels where curse words filled the speakers. Hatred according to television. Then I turned one more channel and then there were pictures of hatred according to the world. We all have personal problems, with friends, with family, with both. We argue and we quick talking to people assuming that problems will work themselves out later. If we learn anything from this event 10 years later is that is no later there is only now. As I looked my self after washing the final remains of cement off my face, I looked in the  mirror. The little girl with bangs her face was now an adult watching a world a change in a mirror. Life holds a lot of lessons that we are suppose to learn. As reruns fill my screen and the chills roll up my spine I know what my lesson is. 'Someone' is a mirror of 'many'. The someone that I watched destroy a building was an exact reflection of the feeling of many. And it was that many that shaped a single day into THE day. The day we would be given a single definition of fear, hatred, and evil. The day that we all remember more clearly than what we breakfast had for yesterday. The day that defined the person in your mirror.
10 years, we have seen every vivid image, video, word that was produced that day. But have we learned. When you look in the mirror what someone are you seeing?

DW

Summer Lovin'

This summer has been one wild ride. In my final video blog I depict how incredible it truly was. Thanks to everyone who helped make this as memorable as it is!

When a Harmonica Tugs at the Heart Strings

The summer before my senior year of high school I spent a morning at my local nursing home. After sitting with one gentlemen for what seemed like hours I had heard tales of WWII, his own service in the military, his wife, his kids, and what had brought him to be living in a Cut Bank nursing home. After having lunch with him I was getting up to leave, he wrapped his arms around me and said, "You are the first person to have sat down and truly visited with me in over three years, you are an amazing young lady come back again soon." As I walked away from the table I realized that three years is a really long time to not talk to anyone. Of course he had nurses, and the occasional school group out to entertain the elderly, but to not have a long one on one conversation with someone for three years, or have the enjoyment of someone coming to see just you, thats very sad. I visited him 2 more times before the terrible excuse of "I was too busy" set in. At Christmas I joined up with Santa Clause and we made a visit to the nursing home. We entered room after room delivering a little Christmas spirit to all. When we reached my old friends room I rushed right in excited to see him  again, as Jolly Old Saint Nick gave him a present, he looked at me and said, "And what  is your name little elf?"As I responded thinking he was joking, I began to see that he really forgotten who I was.

Flash Forward to Today:

We had our final promotional performance for All Shook Up, and today it was taking place at a local nursing home. Upon arriving one of the resident got up from his wheelchair and came over to talk. After talking to us for a few minutes, we learned two things, first that his name was Paul, and that he entertained the residents by playing the harmonica. He noticed that that sparked our interest. So he rushed back to his wheelchair and literally jetted back to his room nearly taking out a nurse that was apparently in his way. Before to long he was wheeling himself back to the group with a black harmonica on his lap. Without a moment to spare, he quickly began to show off his awesome talent. Within minutes of the music beginning, the entire cast accompanied by a 91 year old harmonica player was singing "You Are My Sunshine," in four part harmony I might add. As we headed into the main room to perform Elvis for the rest of the residents, Paul wheeled himself right up front. As Jailhouse rock finished up, he told our star, "You pretty good for just starting out." Paul let his opinion be heard no matter what song. As Maddie got up to sing "Fools Fall in Love", Paul wheeled himself right up to her feet to let her know that he was having a hard time hearing her. He was completely hilarious, and it was hard to stay in character while he was getting so excited to hear us sing. When Bella and Justin got up to sing "Its Now or Never," you could tell he knew the song. He quickly lifted his harmonica, and joined in. When Bella began to sing her part of the love song, instead of taking it to Justin, she threw her actions and gestured to Paul instead. The rest of the cast that this was both cute and funny, but not Paul. As soon as he realized that Bella was singing to him, he lowered his harmonica, smiled the widest smile I think he could do, and began to cry. As the cast began to sing "Can't Help Falling in Love" he continued to wipe away tears and mouth every word to the song. Obviously striking something within him, I watched as a happy go lucky harmonica player was moved to tears by a song that the audiences we normal entertained could laugh at. It truly brought a new feeling and meaning to the song. We finished with "All Shook Up" a song that he had been requesting since seeing our matching tshirts. He was all smiles as we ended our set. Before leaving with took a group picture with our elderly admirer, and began to leave. Before I could go, Paul grabbed my hand and said, "Thank you."

Its amazing how in a matter of a few minutes and with only a few words you can touch someone in someway. By merely giving time to those who probably only have nurses for friends you can change their day and maybe even more. The only thing I fear about becoming old is being put in a nursing home, because I have don't want to be forgotten. We all get so caught up in our own lives that we forget that there are people stuck in a building who are probably starving to be heard, to tell their story. Or just to have someone come and see them, to enjoy the company of compassion. I am sure Paul is probably entertaining the other residents but would love to entertain new faces. And obviously not being visited for three years makes for one lonely place to live. I just hope that when the day comes that I am sitting in that bed in that white room of a nursing home that someone will come a touch my heart by merely listening to the stories I have to tell or the songs I still have in my soul.

"Wisdom doesn't automatically come with old age.  It's true, some wines improve with age. But only if the grapes were good in the first place."--Abigail Van Buren

"How are we ever to know?"

When you tell any musical theatre student, "Hey guess what? I am going to do a Stephen Sondheim show in only 8 days!!" The normal reaction would be breaking into a giant burst of laughter and then someone checking to see if I am still sane or not. But its true! I have been working on a show for the past 2 weeks and we opened it last Friday after only 8 days of rehearsal. Stephen Sondheim is an amazing AMAZING composer who did the music for an award winning show by the name of Into the Woods. And when I was cast in it for the summer stock season at Grandstreet Theatre, I received an email that with an attachment of the schedule. The body of the email warned me that if I wasn't scared by the schedule I should be. And believe me I was! Upon arrival to Helena we immediately got to work. After only 3 days, all the songs were learned and the show was blocked. So when the opening day came we had quite the day. When you think of the things to do on an opening day you may think rehearse, or doing showy type things. Well not at the Adams house!! No we went to the carousal. Now if you are not familiar to the Helena area the Carousel is a magical place where they have made the amazing combination of ice cream and riding hand carved ponies. So Josey, Josie, Marianne, Jess and I went to this incredible fantasy land!

Josie hanging out on a horse!!

Jess on an otter

and this is Josey

After taking two trips on the magical circle, we took a break and met up with Sam. Then we went to enjoy the second pleasure of the is incredible facility. That is ice cream. They create their own unique flavors and to all my friends in Missouri, its kind of like Sparky's. ONLY BETTER!! They had flavors like Hot Chocolate (Chocolate with cayenne pepper in it, I heard it was very delicious), pecan cinnamon roll, the montana classic Huckleberry, and many other brilliant flavors. I was suffering from a bad cold so did not participate in the eating of dairy instead drank a huckleberry italian soda, just as good but not nearly as awesome.

So after slaving the afternoon away we got to the point where it was show time. As the the lights came up so did the thrill and as the show ended the adrenaline kept moving. As tradition stands after every Grandstreet show there is an after party down a few blocks at Bert and Ernie's. It was so fun to hang out with the cast, crew and our supporters. It was our moment to breath as a cast and revul in the accomplishment that is an amazing created by all of us in just 8 days. There is one line from the show that has really stuck with me. "How are we ever to know?" As I stood around looking at all the faces that made up this show, and thought how could people ever to know? How could people ever know that simply 8 days before we were complete strangers? How could people ever know that for 8 days we eat, breathed, and slept this show, only for the simple enjoyment of hearing the clapping and cheering during the show (and of course the purchase of tickets ;) ;) ) But how could people ever know the back grounds that brought each of us to this point in time? I look around the after party and think of all the successful people that make up not only Grandstreet but the amazing acting community that was surrounding me. I was with people who had come all across the United States to simply make amazing theatre. A true blessing!

Julia (Cinderella), Myself, Lysa (Baker's Wife), Jess (Stepmother), Kysta (Lucy)

The Step family!

If you still want tickets there are only three performances left!

Thursday @ 7:30

Friday @ 7:30

Saturday @ 2:30

COME SEE YOU US!!!

A Rose by Any Other Name.....

I got to come home for a few days!! "Into the Woods" took a 3.5 day vacation from rehearsals to enjoy the holiday. As most of my cast went to the cabin, I came home for the first time in 6 months. It was so weird coming home, but wonderful none the less. I walked into my room and saw that my sister was storing some of her grad gifts in there, which was fine. And someone had been sleeping in my bed, goldylocks was no where to be found, so like most things I blamed it on Amanda. As I got unpacked and settled back into my original surroundings I notice sitting on the dresser was a prom corsage. The sparkly black ribbon and dried roses were a beautiful combination. But as Amanda came into my room to grab the remaining stuff she had left from sleeping in my bed. I asked, "Amanda, is that your prom corsage." She replied, "No its Alexis'." Later on in the day I asked "Alexis is that your prom corsage on my dresser." She too replied, "No its Amanda's." Well thats not frustrating at all. So now I have this dried up prom corsage sitting on my dresser and it just magically got there.

As I starred at it, my mom called me downstairs. When I responded to her she said, "Will you take those roses up stairs they have been down here for months." Now before you think that I got some dead flowers stored in my room, let me just tell you....you're right. I collect dried flowers. No, not wilted probably should throw away flowers, but turned upside down for a long time and preserved flowers. I know it is an odd thing to collect, but it is a true representation of happy memories, and accomplishments. I have been collecting since I was about 13 years old and some of my favorites are....

When I was 16 I was in my first musical EVER!! It was "The Secret Garden," at Grandstreet Theatre, where I am currently working. I played a ghost/ a nurse. The whole thing was amazing and beautiful. As I looked down on our closing night show, I began to tear up. I wasn't ready for this to end and I knew now more than ever I wanted to be on stage for the rest of my life. As I scanned the audience during curtain call I looked down and saw my mom and my dad. My mom was crying, things that are typical! And as I met them after the show my mom presented me with these antiquely looking roses. The color was the mix between pink and off-white. They are definitely the prettiest of my dried collection.

This one was a flower my 2nd dad Craig Rude gave to me on my senior night for Cheerleading. I was running around, like I usually did before a game, trying to make sure everything was in order when I spotted my 2nd family. The Rudes!! Wanda and Craig are literally like my 2nd parents. I ran up to them to get my usual hug and Craig pulled me into a Craig Rude Bear Hug and the gave me this boutinere. The purple and yellow carnation wrapped in baby's breath, just about sent me into tears. As some of you know my dad was transferred my senior year and was not able to come to senior night. I completely understood, but as Craig pinned the flower on he said, "that's from your dad.....and me :)" As my sisters, mom, and myself walked across the gym floor, I looked up and there was Wanda and Craig. They made sure that even if my dad couldn't be there in person, he was going to be there in some way. 

Some others from my collection:

Bouquet I received from my parents

Junior year prom corsage

Senior year prom corsage

My Montana Jr. Miss winning roses

Flowers I got after winning Cut Bank's 

Each flower is not a dried up leaf but rather a picture onto which I keep memories. So its kinda sad when I see a beautiful corsage from a probably amazing night simply laying on my dresser and no one wants to claim it. People say to stop and smell the roses or as Walter Hagen puts it, "You're only here for a short visit. Don't hurry, don't worry. And be sure to smell the flowers along the way." To me these phrase are simply putting that if you don't take time to make memories and smile onto the beauty of your life and surroundings, life is gone in a flash without you truly knowing how to live. My collection is a constant reminder to me to continue taking advantages of the opportunities life has been giving me. That life is only as beautiful as the memories, experiences, and the thoughts that you fill it with. 

The Beauty in Yesterday

I am back!!! in Montana that is. After 6 months I have finally returned to the big sky. But of instead of going home I am living in Helena for the next 2 months working for Grandstreet Theatre. So I am living with the wonderful Marianne and Charlie Adams. Also living here is Jess, who is from Iowa, and Josey, who hails from Kentucky, so I was the only Montana native, well besides the Adams. So earlier this morning Marianne, Jess, Josey and I decided to take the Helena Historical Society's Tour Train.

As the tour train set out on its journey, we rounded the capital building, saw the new governor's mansion, the old governor's mansion, famous house, famous people, famous events, and the history of Helena as well as Montana. And although I have lived in this state for 13 years I am still fascinated by the stories. But to me the true definition of beauty is history. Knowing that once this place didn't exist and now its a thriving state capital, and everything in between is incredible. For example.......

This is a statue of Thomas Francis Meagher, not General Custer, that was my first guess. Meagher was born in Ireland. He lead the Young Irelanders in 1848 but was caught and original sentenced to death but instead was sent to a jail in Australia. From there he broke out and settled in NYC and joined the Union army during the Civil War. He rose to brigadier general and lead the irish brigade. Post war he was sent to the Montana territory to act as the first acting governor, but sadly drowned in the Missouri during a battle with a native tribe. But now is a statue in front of the capital.

The tour told many more stories of why and how helena came to be. And I couldn't help but feel anything but pride. To know that this is my state and this is my history. I was glad I got to share this experience with Josey, Jess, and Marianne!

My first week back has been amazing. STAY TUNED!!

OMG SHE IS SOOOOO FUNNY!!!!

After finishing STI I got to return to Alabama. For the people who don't know what I am talking about. Last year I competed in a scholarship program by the name of America's Jr. Miss. I was Montana's Jr. Miss for 2010 and I headed to nationals in Mobile, Alabama. While I was there the program announced a huge change. The program went from being named America's Jr. Miss to Distinguished Young Women of America. Anyway...This program is amazing, I have met some of the most amazing girls from all across the country as well as earn scholarship to pay for college. But last August I gave up my title and became a Has Been. But the best part is I gave my title up to my baby sister Amanda. So this June I got to go to Alabama to watch her compete at nationals. And can I just say she whooped some serious booty. She won 2 national awards. One was an essay contest awards thingy and the other was an Interview award, which is UBER AWESOME!!! And she looked so awesome on stage. Take a look.....

SHE IS SO PRETTY!!!!!! but everyone person we stopped and talked to said that she is the funniest person EVER. well I don't doubt it. Amanda is one heck of a gal. And she made not only myself but the whole state of Montana awfully proud. It was so cool to come back, Now this program always allows the girls from the previous year to come back and participate in what is known as the Has Been show. But you have to be there on a certain date and I couldn't due to me being at STI and all. Which is fine! So instead of being in the has been show I got to watch as 12 of my AJM class performed to reworded Mary Poppins music. They were so fun and made me so happy!!

As you can already see there are so many great things about being in Alabama, but without a doubt the best. THE BEST!!!! is the Thornton family. They were my host family for my two weeks last year. They spoiled me rotten and made me feel right at home. Mommy Sherrie, Dad Aj, and my sisters Erin and Emily. They are soooooo awesome. So while I was there I had so much fun hanging out at there house one afternoon. So we played us some Just Dance2, I had never played it and lets just I probably shouldn't. :) But this family is the greatest and I am so lucky. I just love them!!!

I had a pretty fab time in Sweet Home AL! here are few more pics of my 2nd adventure there......

Oh Alabama you never disappoint!!