Wedding Photos

So I put together an album of wedding photos and wanted to show my three readers that Landon and I are really good at taking pictures. Here they are!

Ok, so a few of these pictures may have tipped you off that they were not of us (though that freaky one of the woman looking at the little girl kinda resembles six-year-old Robyn). These are actually the property of Awkwardfamilyphotos.com. I am just kind of obsessed with wedding pictures right now and kinda wish that Landon and I had a few awkward ones.

My Trip to the De Young

Sometimes I really just miss discussing art. I loved do that in high school, and then when I took humanities classes during college. I love visiting really any exhibit (except Native American art. Does that make me racist? I just do not like it). The most amazing exhibit I had ever seen was this last January when my then-boyfriend (now-husband) Landon surprised me with a trip home and tickets to an Impressionism and Post-Impressionism exhibit. The main attraction? A series of Van Gogh paintings. I know it is super cliche to say, "My favorite artist? Who is the guy who was such a tormented artist that he cut off his ear? Van Gogh, that's right. He is legit." But seriously, he is an amazing artist that there is so much reason why he is famous. And I got to see his paintings.

Being in a room with such exquisite artwork is indescribable. Its like, you know you are going to leave and it will still be there, but you want it to disappear all together because you know other people are going to be looking at it. It needs to disappear or come with you. But it doesn't. So you move on and get to look at other beautiful paintings, but you know you just have to come back to that painting again and again so you can savor every inch of it.

I was like that with a few paintings. I just loved the way I felt when I came back and interpreted it so different every time. I loved hearing Landon's insights on the paintings and feeling his passion for it as I expressed my thoughts on them. I especially enjoyed looking at Van Gogh's, "Starry Night Over the Rhone," as seen above. Do not get this mixed up with the super famous, "Starry Night."

As Landon and I just stood there, we took turns just taking note of different details and perhaps what the artist was telling us. I liked to think that the couple in the foreground were so in love they didn't want to be within the bustling city behind them. We also talked about how the light man created from the city was similar to the light coming from the sky. Perhaps Van Gogh wanted to show the aliveness from both heaven and Earth and the power that mankind has in its participation of creation. I love how the lights in the sky and the lights in the city serve to put emphasis on the couple, that despite the beauty from those sources, nothing is as beautiful as the simple couple walking away from their homes.

Bus Rides

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe things really do happen for a reason. I couldn't tell you why because I realize it defies all reason. But again this week, I missed my bus and then another freaking crazy thing happened.

First off, I will confess the lame reason as to why I missed my bus. I take one bus to Orem and then transfer over to another. I had been using my old roommate Trang Doan's bus pass until I saw her in August (at my wedding) where she told me she needed the pass because she was returning to Utah. Luckily, the bus drivers from Provo to Orem didn't make me buy the passes as they trusted that I would buy one in Orem.

Anywho, I am getting off the 832 in Orem when I see my driver in the 850. I run to him and with a pathetically desperate look, tell him to wait one minute while I buy my bus pass. So I go and buy it and have to deal with this 60-year-old big shot who, after viewing my hurried signature, asks, "is that really your signature?" Woman, have you met me? (The answer is presumably no, but still) Do you think, now, of all times, when I am going to be late to work, I am going to choose to have a clear signature? I shoot her some sarcastic remark as I run to get on the 832.

The 832. As we got in the left-turn lane, I realized that I got back on to the bus that I had just gotten off of. I was with the same people who saw me desperately peer out of the windows in hopes that I wasn't going to miss the 850. The bus driver dropped me off at the first stop, just as I saw the 850 turn left and away from me. Sigh. The life of the bus people.

So I call my boss and explain and luckily it was a pretty slow morning so she was not too worried about my tardiness. So a half hour later, I take the next 850. It is running a bit late and continues to increase its tardiness after about 15 people with disabilities get on the bus. Now, anyone who knows me knows that I am not one to make light of people with disabilities. Lets get that out of the way. But they do naturally take a longer time, especially the man in the wheel chair.

Finally we are on our way. Things are going fine and then it is time for this group to get off the bus at their after high school learning program. And they get off. All except one. She is enjoying the bus ride and as an adult it would be disrespectful to just remove her from the bus. So the bus driver finally gets all of the remaining passengers (me and a guy who just stood a little bit too close for my liking) to get off of the bus, in hopes of convincing her that all the fun is off the bus. So we get off and she stays on. The director of the school comes on to talk to her. Nothing. Its been 15 minutes. I am now contemplating just walking and hoping that it was not too far. Finally, just as I had moved about 30 yards from the bus, the young woman is pulled off. I get back on the bust, after 25 minutes of waiting and realize that I am really going to be late. Luckily the rest of the trip was fine. I was 59 minutes late to work.

The thing is, none of this would have happened if I had just taken the first bus. I wonder, was it karma for hating on that stupid woman or for sneaking on the bus the day before because it was leaving right when I got to the station and I didn't have time to buy a pass? As a person of faith, was it a test to see how I would treat others? I think the answer to this isn't really a yes or no. I thought about all of these things during those 25 minutes and realized that I was getting frustrated with this woman, but in reality I was just frustrated with being late. One of the girl's supervisors told me that she had gotten that girl to get out of bed by telling her that they were going to take a bus ride. And their bus ride was so short, I would have felt ripped off too. I also was humbled when I realized that I had left my credit card at the bus station and had to look that lame lady in the face.

I still don't think things happen for a reason. I was running late. I made a foolish choice. Still, I wonder why it is that whenever I miss the bus, something crazy happens to me. Perhaps, crazy things happen when I do not miss it, but I don't give those stories any validation because I don't need to. Maybe I just validate these ones because I need some good stories to rationalize all the lameness associated with missing the bus.