WDL Demo Rss

Posted by Laura | 1 comments

I am fed up with the American idea of "love."
"What is love?"
Lately, it looks like Bella and Edward.
No thank you.
... Or, yes please?
A recent reviewer of Twilight mused,

In short, these viewers were engrossed in the film's fantasy world -
and I'm not talking about the whole vampire-and-werewolf fantasy.
I'm talking about the film's fantastical view of love...
Eclipse takes romanticism to another level,
giving us two male protagonists who are practically god-like:
Edward is a knight in shining skin who props his beloved Bella on a pedestal;
Jacob is a dark-haired pinup idol, sensitive and vulnerable even as he's virile and strong.
They are creatures of pure imagination -
preternaturally powerful and kind and desirable and desirous.
No wonder teens who are still mulling what true love looks like are attracted to these characters.
No wonder grown women -
many of them who fell in love, got married and found their relationships
weren't wall-to-wall passion and joy forever and ever -
find themselves drawn to them, too.

(To read the entire review, click here. As an aside, I've never been a huge fan of this site's movie reviews. It is generally too conservative for my taste. This one, however, seems pretty spot-on.)

I didn't mean to make this a Twilight bash. In fact, I have always enjoyed Twilight-- the books and the movies -- and make it a point to defend its merits whenever possible. This reviewer makes a point to emphasize the movie's many 'positive elements,' pointing out

Edward loves Bella just as deeply as she loves him.
But his is a more mature, selfless love.
He's positively chivalrous when it comes to courtship,
always looking out for Bella's wellbeing...

But this entry isn't about Eclipse, per se. It's about the love that is displayed, glorified, and embodied in it, and how that concept has drastically influenced American culture; therefore influencing me.
Yes, I'll admit it. I have been influenced by both Twilight and America's idea of love. It's almost impossible to not be.
And it's not just women who are confused about love. This article details the effects of Axe Body Spray's effect on young men who are convinced that "These sprays along with a little of your innate charm (you do have innate charm don't you?) will cause women to go to great lengths to find you" ("Does Body Spray Make You Irresistible To Women?"). Just as women have created false ideals of manhood via Jacob Black and love via Edward's obsession, men have equally falsified real femininity by assuming that a squirt of cologne will cause the animal within every sex-goddess to fall at their feet in submission.

This entry also isn't meant to bash our culture and its screwy advertisements. I don't want to bash anyone or anything in particular. My confusion and frustration is not due to one thing. But, I'm still confused. And frustrated. With a few painful breakups under my belt, I'm not exactly jumping at the prospect of "falling in love" any time soon, even though everything around me screams in favor of its necessity. Not that I even know what "falling in love" or "loving" someone even means, apparently. Yet, Twilight and our culture make me feel so out-of-the-loop and despondent when we don't have anything in common. Maybe I don't want it, maybe I want something else. I hope I want something else.

But what is it that I want?
And we're back at the beginning.

This didn't make much sense, did it? Me either.




"Don't drip on the carpet,"

Posted by Laura | 1 comments

my mother said as I walked in the front door this afternoon.
As I was driving home amidst this (rare) summer deluge, I decided spontaneously (which doesn't happen often) to sit outside for awhile. As I sat in my father's truck bed, hugging my knees close and seeing how long I could keep my eyes open and lifted, I had a revelation.

This revelation requires background.
Firstly, I am a very sensual person. Don't get too excited-- by sensual I mean vividly aware and appreciative of things pertaining to the senses: the texture of a leaf, the orange/red/yellow swirls of a day lily, the scent of Earl Grey mixing with honey and milk. To be sure, I can over-romanticize ordinary things and fly away into a dream world quite easily, so I often have to remind myself to stay grounded in, er, reality. I tell you this because--
Secondly, I gripe at God a lot because He isn't tangible. I can't feel Him, touch Him, or see Him, and this is exceeding frustrating to my senses. At times, this causes doubt in my faith. Why isn't He tangible? Or, why couldn't I have lived when He was? If I can't physically register His presence, then how do I know He's near? Far? "It's not fair." Often it seems like His intangibility is a wall that blocks true communion. Or, so it has always seemed until today.

Pre-revelation, I was marveling at the feeling of thousands of rain drops massaging my arms, legs, and face. I didn't have a bad morning, but the rain was certainly making the day better. Green grass, dancing puddles, garden flowers, quiet street, parade of ants, dirt explosions-- sensory overload. Suddenly, I remembered that "every good and perfect gift is from above." The passage goes on to say "... coming down from the Father of Lights with Whom there is no variation or shadow due to change" (James 1:17, ESV). All at once, I marveled at the tangibility of God. The rain, the grass, the puddles, the flowers-- everything good is of God and is a reflection of His image and character. Not to suggest that within each flower resides the Spirit of God, but that when I revel in the beauty of falling rain, I am also reveling in the physical beauty of God. It's not a perfect metaphor, but it encourages me.

I'm all for context, so here's the precursor to verse 17.

Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial,
for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life,
which God has promised to those who love him.
Let no one say when he is tempted, "I am being tempted by God,"
for God cannot be tempted with evil, and he himself tempts no one.
But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire.
Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin,
and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death.
Do not be deceived, my beloved brothers.
James 1:12-15, ESV

Make no mistake-- my sensuality can certainly (and does) lead to temptation. The excess of it becomes an idol, and the lack of it causes discontent. As James reminds me, this temptation is of my own and can 'give birth to sin.'
However, it does not have to be utilized thusly. Under control, it is a marvelous way to relish in the beauty of my Father. I am so grateful for this, because this afternoon as I felt the rain quench my skin, I felt the love of God. Tangibly.

Thoughts on Domesticity, part II

Posted by Laura | 1 comments



I think I published part I at some point last summer.

Earlier this week, I made a renewed attempt at domesticity by baking my first ever coconut cake, topped with my first ever batch of egg white icing. It was messy. It was arduous. It was suspenseful. It was triumphant.
[It was definitely not this dramatic. My summer has been so boring.]

"Unforgettable Coconut Cake" is the title of my maiden voyage. It was not unforgettable. But it was good!

The egg white took 20 minutes to stiffen. I don't think this is normal.


These are the stiffened egg whites. They don't look half as impressive as I felt after finishing them. Check out those 'soft peaks!'












The 'egg white icing.' Supposedly it only takes 7 minutes to make. False. You have to use a double boiler (a pot on top of a pot of boiling water) and beat the mixture constantly. Because I didn't have a hand-held beater, I kicked it old school and stirred furiously for 12 minutes.









The finished product! It was really too rich to be accompanied with ice cream,
so we sipped either coffee or [iced] milk with it.
My outsider test subject, Nate, had no comment after inhaling his piece. I was almost grateful, because I didn't want to receive some contrived or expected compliment. He did, however, finish his whole piece quickly, which I silently took as good news.

All in all, I thoroughly enjoyed the experience. As I was beating the icing (at about minute 8), I thought, "If I never had to have a career, and could just make my house a home for my family, I would be content."
Despite my revelation, I have decided to continue my university education in the fall. Hopefully my roommates will want to partake in my future attempts at domesticity!
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