Testing: One, Two, Three...

My hands shook as I put the cap back on the pregnancy test and set it on the counter. I washed my hands, then left the bathroom. I avoided looking in the mirror as I passed, afraid to see the hope in my eyes.

I crawled back into my bed, and stared at the digital alarm clock on the dresser, waiting for the three minutes to pass. As I watched the minutes crawl slowly by, I prayed.

I had been praying a lot over the weekend. My period was supposed to start on Saturday, and hadn't. I'd waited until Monday morning to take the test, figuring I'd get an accurate result by then. But over the whole weekend, I was a bundle of nerves. I prayed almost constantly, asking for strength and optimism if the test came back with a negative result. I didn't want to get my hopes up, my heart had been broken too many times over the year and a half Ben and I had been trying for another baby.

As I waited to see what the test said, I reminded myself over and over that it was okay if I wasn't pregnant. I already have one perfect child. Asking for more would be greedy. There are many people (some of whom I know and love dearly) who can't have any children. Just having one is a blessing of massive proportions.

Even knowing this, however, didn't soften the ache much when multiple tests had come back with negative results over the past months. We'd been trying for our second child for so long, I was literally beginning to miss him. That's weird, I know, but it's true.

Last night, I barely slept. It looked, and felt, so promising. A missed period is supposed to be a pretty sure sign, right? And I felt like the time was finally right. I felt like there might, just maybe, be a tiny person beginning to grow inside of me. But I had been wrong before. And so, I slept little. I woke up every few minutes to check the clock. I had crazy dreams, all revolving around botched pregnancy tests.

Finally, at 6 am, I'd gotten up and taken the test.

Now, I just had to wait.

As the three minutes finally passed, it took all of my courage to get out of bed. I was terrified to look at the pregnancy test, terrified of having my heart broken again. Again, I prayed for faith and strength in the face of a negative test result. At the same time, I hoped as hard as I could for a positive one.

My hands were shaking uncontrollably. I flipped on the light switch in the bathroom, and mustered my courage. Finally, I looked at the pregnancy test.

It was negative.

Again.

It took a long time for my shaking hands to steady, for my pounding heart to slow down. I didn't cry, and I was very proud of that fact. I told myself, "We'll try again next month." At the same time, part of me screamed, "I don't want to do this anymore! Month after month, I go through the same thing! Watching, waiting, looking for a sign... I'm tired of the heartache!"

But I smothered that tiny voice in my heart. I told myself that, as long as I have faith, God will take care of me. That doesn't mean I'll necessarily have any more children, but He has a plan. If I can believe in Him, and in His plan for me, I will be happy. That's what He wants, you know - for me to be the happiest I can possibly be.

So I didn't let myself cry. I didn't let myself doubt. I couldn't help hurting a little, but I think that's probably okay. I'm not really looking forward to going through the whole thing again the next time I have a late period, but I still believe that it will eventually pay off. And when it does, I will no doubt be that much more grateful, and that much happier about it, than I would have been if getting pregnant hadn't been such a trial.

Then, Ben asked me how I was doing. That one sympathetic question opened the floodgates.

I didn't want to let myself cry, but I couldn't help it.

It's one thing to say you'll be strong and optimistic no matter what. It's an entirely different thing, trying to push the pain aside and actually be strong and optimistic. I think I'm getting better at it, though.

And one thing's for sure - I definitely won't take any of my kids for granted.

The Fairest in the Land

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful young princess named Evelyn. She had rosy cheeks, thick, glossy hair, and wide brown eyes. The people all agreed that the princess was the fairest maiden in the land.

But Evelyn was more than just beautiful. She had a kind heart.

She smiled at everyone she met. She went out of her way to help those in need. The princess was never mean, impatient, or rude to others. She loved to make people happy.

Princess Evelyn was very sweet, very kind, and very beautiful. Everyone in the kingdom loved her.

Everyone, that is, except the witch.

The witch lived in a swamp not far from the palace, with her pet slug, Booger. She was a mean, ugly old bat. She kicked puppies for fun. She never missed a chance to spit in someone's soup. She spent her free time throwing rocks at passing people and animals. She hated all things beautiful and good - especially the princess, who was beautiful and good all the time!

"Ooh, that princess makes me so mad!" the witch told Booger one day. "I bet if she wasn't so beautiful, she wouldn't be so good, either! If she was ugly like me, she'd probably be mean and miserable, too!"

This gave the witch an idea.

"That's it!" she shrieked at Booger. "I'll cast a spell that will make her as ugly as I am! Then we'll see how good and kind she really is!"

Cackling madly, the witch got to work. "This is going to be fun," she grinned.

*****

The next morning, Princess Evelyn woke to the sound of birds singing outside her window. She climbed out of her bed and went to the window to greet the birds.

"Good morning, friends!"

The birds froze, staring at the princess.

"What's wrong?" Evelyn asked.

As one, the birds screeched in terror and took to the air, flying away as quickly as their tiny wings could carry them.

"Oh dear," the princess said, "I hope they're all right. I wonder what frightened them?"

Princess Evelyn walked over to her mirror, to comb her hair. When she looked in the mirror however, she was shocked to see a hideous face staring back at her. She screamed in terror. The face in the mirror screamed back at her. Evelyn whirled around, checking the room behind her. No monster. Timidly, she looked into the mirror. The face was peering back at her.

Evelyn gasped. The creature in the mirror was wearing her pajamas!

The princess slowly raised one hand. The monster did the same. She jumped up and down. The image in the mirror copied her. Evelyn lifted her hands to her face, watching as her motions were mirrored again.

Her face felt hairy. Her skin was rough and scratchy. Her cheeks drooped down from her face, like a bulldog. Her beautiful hair was gone, with only the occasional wispy patch remaining. Most of her teeth had disappeared as well, and those that were left were crooked.

Evelyn's eyes filled with tears. She hid her face in her hands, sobbing loudly.

The monster in the mirror was her.

The queen heard her daughter crying, and came to see what the problem was. When she opened the door, the princess screamed and hid in the closet.

"My love," the queen asked, "What's wrong?"

The princess just cried more loudly.

"Why don't you come out here, so we can talk?"

"No!" Evelyn shouted. "I can't! Nobody can see me like this!"

The queen was bewildered. "Like what, darling?"

The princess sniffed. "Mama, I'm ugly."

Laughing, the queen said, "You could never be ugly, sweetheart! You're the most beautiful girl in the land!"

"Not anymore." Princess Evelyn slowly walked out of the closet, facing her mother.

The queen gasped. "Oh no! What happened?"

Evelyn's eyes filled with fresh tears. "I don't know, Mama. I woke up like this."

The queen began to cry as well. "My poor baby! We'll find a way to fix this." Hesitantly, the queen moved over to the princess, put her arms around her, and hugged her tightly.

"Remember," the queen told Evelyn, "No matter what happens on the outside, you're still the same beautiful person on the inside. Nobody can change that."

*****

Evelyn hid in the palace for weeks, refusing to let anyone but her mother see her. Finally, though, she realized that she couldn't hide forever. She was the princess, and the people needed her. So she got dressed, wrapped a scarf around her head to hide her hideous face, and went out.

The princess walked to Old Mother Sally's house, a basket of food on her arm. The elderly woman had been ill for several months. Princess Evelyn often brought her food and company, to lift Sally's spirits and help her get well.

When Old Mother Sally saw the princess, however, she was frightened.

"Who are you?" she asked. "What do you want?"

"It's me, Evelyn" the princess answered softly. "I know I look... different. But I'm still the same person I've always been, and I'd like to visit with you if you'll let me."

"I'd... rather you didn't" Old Mother Sally responded. "Please, just go."

Princess Evelyn bit her lip, trying not to cry. "Very well," she answered. "I'll just leave this basket of food on the table for you." She set down the basket and hurried out the door.

Evelyn was feeling hurt, but decided that she would try again, somewhere else. She often volunteered at the royal soup kitchen, handing out food to the poor and down-on-their-luck. "I'll go there" she decided. "They need the help. Surely they won't turn me away just because I'm ugly."

At the soup kitchen, the other volunteers stayed far away from the princess. They did need the help, but they were all too scared to stand near her.

Princess Evelyn tried to ignore the loneliness she was feeling and focus on handing out food. But the poor were afraid of her, too. No one wanted the food she was offering. Finally, the old man in charge of the soup kitchen came over and asked her to leave. "I know you're just trying to help, but you're scaring people away," he said.

The princess left, once again feeling sad and rejected. "How can I help people if they're afraid of me?" she wondered.

Suddenly, the princess heard a yell for help. It was a child, terrified and crying. "I hear you!" she called, breaking into a run. She chased the sound through the streets, around corners, up and down stairs, until she found the source of the noise.

A little boy had fallen into the river. He was clinging to a rock as the water swirled around him, trying to sweep him away.

He spotted the princess. "Help me!" he cried. "I can't hold on!"

"I'm coming," the princess promised. Quickly, she pulled off her shoes and jacket. Then she remembered the scarf tied around her head. She didn't want anyone to see the extent of her hideousness, but the scarf might get tangled in the water and choke her. She realized that the boy's life was more important than her own insecurities. She ripped the scarf off of her head and dove into the water.

Princess Evelyn swam quickly over to the rock and pulled the boy into her arms. "I've got you" she promised, and launched herself toward the shore. Thanks to many years of swimming lessons, Evelyn had no trouble fighting the current and pulling the boy to safety.

As she staggered out of the water with the little boy in her arms, Evelyn saw that a crowd had gathered on the shore. They stood staring at her, frozen at the sight of her monstrous face.

"What are they staring at?" the little boy whispered.

The princess looked at him, bewildered. "What do you mean? Look at me! I'm a monster. It's no wonder they're frightened."

Wide-eyed, the little boy gazed up at the princess. "You're not a monster. You saved me. You're the most beautiful person in the world."

A cry came from the back of the group of bystanders. "Matthew!" a woman shrieked, pushing her way through the crowd. "Matthew!"

The little boy turned toward the sound. "Mama!"

The woman ran up to the princess, who still held Matthew in her arms. She reached for her son, and Evelyn handed him over, shyly backing away.

Matthew hugged his mother fiercely. "I'm okay, Mama. I'm okay. She saved me."

For the first time, Matthew's mother noticed the princess. She looked shocked when she saw Evelyn's appearance, but recovered quickly, changing her shock into a smile.

"I don't know who you are, but I'm forever in your debt. You saved my little boy. I can never thank you enough."

Evelyn smiled hesitantly. "It's okay, really. Anyone would have done the same. I just got there first."

"And I'm so glad you did," Matthew's mother smiled. She looked down at the little boy in her arms. "Maybe now he'll learn not to play in the river."

Matthew looked sheepish. "Yes, Mama."

The princess turned away, not wanting to interrupt. She picked up her jacket and shoes, wrapped the scarf around her head, and began to walk away.

"Wait!" Matthew called. "You saved me, but I don't even know your name."

The crowd turned as well, curious to hear the answer.

Evelyn blushed, embarrassed by all the people looking at her. "Um," she answered. "My name is Evelyn."

Matthew laughed. "Like the princess?"

The princess flushed more deeply. "Exactly like that, yes."

Matthew's mother was staring at Evelyn. "Wait," she said, "You are the princess, aren't you?"

Someone in the crowd laughed, but was quickly shushed. Everyone stood staring at the princess.

"Y-y-yes," Evelyn stammered. "I am."

Desperate, she tried to explain. "I woke up like this a few weeks ago. I don't know what happened. I'm... I'm a monster now." She hung her head, ashamed.

Matthew's mother walked up to the princess and put a hand on her rough, hairy cheek. "You are not a monster," she insisted. "You saved my son's life. Only a truly beautiful person puts others before themselves."

The mother turned to the crowd. "Beauty is something that comes from inside a person. The princess may have changed on the outside, but she is still the same selfless, kind, beautiful person she has always been. She proved that today. She is still the fairest in the land."

The crowd cheered. The princess, overwhelmed by the love of her people, put her hands to her face and began to cry tears of joy. As she cried, she felt something strange. Her face felt smoother beneath her hands. It wasn't so hairy. Her mouth felt full of straight, even teeth again, and she could feel the weight of her thick hair on her shoulders. Stunned, the princess lowered her hands, staring at the faces of the people around her.

Her shock was reflected on every face she looked into. The hideous creature that had stood before them was gone. Princess Evelyn's outer beauty had been restored.

"I'm beautiful again," the princess whispered. "I'm beautiful again!"

Matthew took Evelyn's hand, and smiled up at her. "You always were."

The End

I Stand All Amazed

President Monson gave a talk yesterday in the morning session of General Conference. More than any other talk over the weekend, that one has stuck with me powerfully.

Don't get me wrong, conference was great. I thoroughly enjoyed every talk. But this particular talk is one that I think I'll remember for the rest of my life.

He told the story of a woman living in East Prussia during WWII. Her husband was killed in one of the last battles of the war. That, in and of itself, was something that really moved me. Ben's in the military as well, so naturally I've thought about how my life would change if he were killed in battle. The fact that this good woman's husband died right at the end of the war adds an extra sense of tragedy to it. He made it through almost the entire war, just to die at the very end.

Anyway, after the war was over, East Prussia was divided up among Russia, Poland and Lithuania. The German citizens were forced to evacuate. This woman was forced to take her four small children and embark on a long journey with nothing but the clothes on their backs, and whatever small amount of goods could fit in her tiny wooden wagon. Almost everything they owned was left behind.

They suffered hardships on the road. She had to scavenge for food wherever possible, but with the thousands being evacuated and heading the same direction, food was scarce. As they traveled, winter set in with below-freezing temperatures. She and her children found themselves having to walk with cloth wrapped around their feet, because by winter their shoes had long since fallen apart. Their clothes were thin and ragged, and at night they only had a couple of thin blankets to protect them from the cold.

The woman woke up one morning to find that, during the night, her three-year-old daughter had frozen to death. Using the only implement she had - a table spoon - she dug a grave in the frigid earth and buried her toddler. Afterward, she took her three remaining children and continued on her way, leaving the tiny grave behind.

A few days later, her seven-year-old son died as well. Again she used the spoon to dig a grave, and buried her oldest child.

Not long after, her five-year-old son also succumbed to the harsh weather and lack of food. The spoon was put to use as a shovel a third time, and she was left with only her infant daughter. The baby was failing fast.

When the baby died, the spoon was too destroyed from the previous three burials to be of any use. The woman used her bare hands to dig the grave, tearing and bruising her fingers against the frozen earth.

After her final child was gone, she despaired. She began thinking of ways to end her own existence. She could jump in front of a train, or even just lay down and let the cold and starvation take her as it had her children.

A still, small voice prompted her to kneel down and pray. She rejected the idea, but again it came. Finally she fell to her knees and prayed for understanding, for help, even for death.

When she arose again, she was filled with light. Her prayers had strengthened her testimony, and her resolve. She knew, without a doubt, that she would see her family again. In spite of the pain of her present situation, she rejoiced in the knowledge that her family would be together forever, and that she would be able to raise those children to adulthood in the next life. She would be able to kiss her husband, hug her children, smile and laugh with them agan.

She felt the Lord's love for her. She knew that He wanted her to continue on with her life, and that He would be supporting her on the way.

When she arrived at her final destination, she was emaciated. Her face was grey and purple from the cold and hunger. Her clothes were tattered, and she could barely stand. But those around her said she was incredibly happy. She had found peace and joy in the knowledge that her Heavenly Father loved her, and that Jesus had died to make it possible for her to live with her family forever.

As President Monson was telling this story, my heart was breaking. With the death of every family member, my tears came a little faster and my heart felt a little heavier. When her final child died, I was thinking the same thing she had - "What's left to live for?" In the same situation, I, too, would have been looking for a way to die. I don't know if I would have had the same strength that she did, the strength to keep going. I know that my Father in Heaven loves me, but even that knowledge and the knowledge that I would be with my family again might not be enough for me. It would take an honest-to-goodness miracle to get me to where I'd be able to keep going, because I don't think I'd be able to get there on my own.

I hope that, in the next life, I have the opportunity to meet this amazing sister. Her trials and testimony have inspired me to face my own with more faith and better grace.

I, too, know that my Father in Heaven lives and loves me. I know that the Savior suffered all things in Gethsemane. He understands every pain I have felt or ever will feel. He's felt it all, so he has perfect empathy. He's the only person who does have perfect empathy, so naturally I should turn to Him when I need help and support. Who else can strengthen and support me so well? I also know that He died on the cross, and was resurrected three days later. Because of His sacrifice, He has made repentance possible. Because of repentance, we have a shot at living in heaven after we die. Without repentance, we would never be clean enough for heaven. But because Christ acted as a mediator, and paid the price of all our sins, repentance is possible.

I also have a testimony of eternal families. I have been sealed to my husband in the temple, which means our marriage will last forever. I feel like anyone who gets married "til death do us part" is getting a raw deal. If you really love your spouse, wouldn't you rather be with them forever? And because Ben and I are sealed together, any children born to us are sealed to us as well. Evie will be my daughter forever. Any other children I have will also be my children for eternity. Similarly, I will be my parents' daughter for eternity. They will always be my parents, and my siblings will always be my brothers and sisters. I have an incredible family, and I love them more than anything in the world. I am so insanely blessed to be able to be with them forever.

I hope that if I'm ever forced to face trials like the ones the East Prussia sister had to go through, I can have the same strength and faith that she did. Well, actually, I hope that I never have to face such overwhelming trials. But if I do, I hope I can overcome them, and come out stronger on the other side, just like she did.

Farewell, Chewbacca

Evie and I walked to the commissary to buy groceries today. When we got home, I couldn't see Chewy anywhere. A minute or two later, he climbed down from the refrigerator, curious to see what we'd brought home.

I was furious. He's not allowed on the counters. I spent a good three weeks with tape on the edges of my kitchen counters, sticky-side up, to help him learn that jumping on them is a no-no. Just last week I took the tape off, thinking that maybe he'd learned.

Clearly, the tape didn't do the trick.

I yelled "bad Chewy!" at him, sprayed him with the water bottle, and put him in the utility room with his litter box for a time-out. THEN I discovered the muffins.

When I left this morning, they were sitting in a ziplock bag on the kitchen counter. When I got home, however, they were in the middle of the living room. The bag was ripped open, the muffins were demolished, and crumbs were all over my carpet.

By this point, I was seeing red. I immediately sat down and began composing my email to the shelter, explaining the situation.

They're going to have to take him back.

If this incident were a one-time thing, I would let it slide. When Chewy first came to live with us, two and a half months ago, he used one of our chairs as a litter box. It was completely ruined, and we had to throw it out. But we figured it was just nerves, and didn't worry about it.

He began spending every night in front of my bedroom door, waiting for a sign of movement, then meowing loudly whenever he thought we might be awake. I thought this might die down, but he still does it. If I wake up in the middle of the night and need to go to the bathroom, I can't make ANY noise, or he'll start meowing and wake everybody up. If Evie needs me during the night, I have to wake Ben up, too, so he can keep Chewy from getting into our bedroom or following us into Evie's. When I get up in the morning, I have to open my bedroom door carefully, and push Chewy out of the way with my foot, or he'll try to get into my room (where he's not allowed to be, because I have a mild cat allergy). Half the time, I end up tripping over him.

He loves to climb, as shown by his insistence on being on the counters (and fridge) in the kitchen. He also likes to bat at things. This has led to pictures being knocked off the walls. No glass or frames have been broken yet, but he's getting bolder. It's only a matter of time.

I have to disinfect the counters and the kitchen table multiple times every day, because Chewy climbs on them. He uses those same feet to clean up after himself when he's in his litter box. I do NOT want those paws on my eating surfaces. But nothing I've done to break that habit has changed anything.

Not only does he climb the counters, he gets into our food. I have to watch him constantly while I'm cooking, for fear that he'll jump on the counter and start eating our dinner. This is not an idle fear - it HAS happened before. There have been multiple times where Evie's dinner had to be thrown out, because Chewy got into it.

When we leave the house or come home, I have to sneak in and out like a fugitive, because Chewy will try to escape. He's not supposed to leave the house. That's what they told us when we adopted him. So I have to watch for him constantly while I'm trying to go through the door. Have you ever tried to get a stroller full of groceries and a dawdling toddler through the front door, while simultaneously preventing your cat from dodging around you and escaping? It's hard. It sucks.

Worst of all, Chewy likes to use his claws to climb on us. Twice now, he has jumped in the air and dangled from my body by his claws, leaving bloody scratches. He's done it to Ben and Evie, too. Since Chewy came into our home, we've gone through two full boxes of Band-Aids for Evie. I hate seeing her covered in bandages. And he doesn't just attack us when we're standing (although that's the most painful), he also jumps on us while he's on his way across the room. It's like we're a part of the furniture, a way to get from one place to another. Since he's usually doing this at high speed, and using his claws to get a good grip, I've gotten multiple bloody contusions that way as well.

But the muffin thing today was the last straw. I had hoped, in spite of the evidence of his time spent on the counters, that we were making progress. I thought maybe we could make things work with this cat. But then I come home to find that, not only is the counter situation unchanged, it's actually gotten worse. We don't have enough money to be able to afford our food being wasted like that.

Chewy thinks he's a person, and therefore entitled to sit on our counters, sleep in our beds, and eat our food. I expected the sense of entitlement, but I've never before met a cat that was THIS bad. I honestly can't do this anymore.

I haven't heard back from the shelter yet, and I hope they don't think I'm the world's worst person. I really tried to make things work with Chewy. I tried for two and a half months. But my whole life has become TONS more stressful. It's like having a really badly-behaved second child, one who disobeys, refuses to learn, and leaves a path of tears and destruction wherever he goes. The difference is, if he WAS my child, I would love him and keep working at helping things get better. It would be worth it, because of that maternal connection. But Chewy's not a child. He's a cat. And I don't love him - he annoys the crap out of me. It's all the stress of a truly awful child, without any of the benefits. I don't need that. My children will give me plenty of gray hairs, I don't need a cat that causes them to an even greater extent. Seriously, my two-year-old is better behaved than my cat!

I do feel bad about sending him away. Evie loves the cat, in spite of the scratches and dinner-stealing. She's an only child so far, and she's a lonely kid. We got this cat for her, so she'd have someone to play with. She's going to be heartbroken when he's gone. But as much as I love her and want her to be happy, I cannot live with this cat! I just hope that she forgets about him quickly, and that we can give her a brother or sister to play with soon. Siblings make better friends than animals, anyhow. And when she's older, and can take care of a pet by herself, we'll probably try again.

But next time, we're getting a dog!

Casting Fablehaven

I've taken it upon myself to cast the upcoming Fablehaven movies. ;) Not really, I've just been thinking about which actors would do well in what roles, and these are what I came up with.



Kendra - Dakota Fanning. Duh. She's an amazing actress, and she looks the
part. She might be slightly too old by the time they start filming,
but she has a youthful appearance and she'd still be able to pull it off.




Seth - I know he's British, but Freddy Highmore has already shown that he can pull off an American accent. He's an extremely talented actor, and while he's definitely too old (did you know he just turned SEVENTEEN????) he still looks 12. I realize that things could change, and he might suddenly start looking his age, in which case we'd have to find someone else. But all the actors I've seen who would have been able to pull off "Seth" are getting too old - chances are, we'd need a fresh face. But someone like Freddy Highmore would be great - someone who looks mischevious.



Grandpa Sorenson - Never mind his tendancy to play gangsters, Robert De Niro is one of the best actors of our time. He's the right age, and has the right look (if you ask me) to play Grandpa. And after Meet the Parents, we know he can do comedy. Doing family-friendly movies shouldn't be a stretch.





Grandma Sorenson - Jane Lynch is a little on the young side, but she looks tough, like Grandma Sorenson is supposed to be. I haven't seen her in a lot of shows, but I've seen a few, and she's got the chops to pull it off. I think she could be great as Grandma.




Dale - It's hard to find a normal-looking actor. They all seem to be more beautiful than regular people. Dale, as we all know, is supposed to be pretty average, even a little awkward and geeky. My first thought was the kid from Juno, but he's only 19. So I thought back to other shows I enjoyed in the past, and Xander from Buffy came to mind. The actor's name is Nicholas Brendon, and he's recently been on Criminal Minds, even geekier than he was in Buffy. I thought he would make a great Dale!




Lena - You might remember her from the TV show Lost - Yunjin Kim is beautiful, talented, and Asian (just like Lena is supposed to be). Since Lena maintains her youthful face throughout the series, even when she's "old", it makes most sense to have one actress for the role, and use makeup to age her. Yunjin Kim would make an incredible Lena, if you ask me.






Muriel - Remember the cute old lady from The Wedding Singer? Her name is Ellen Alberti Dow and I think she'd make a great Muriel. She's tiny and ancient, and while most of the time the characters she plays are endearing, I have little doubt that she could pull off Muriel extremely well. Then, after Muriel is released and uses her magic to become young and gorgeous, Charlize Theron would make a great Muriel. Her face is shaped much like Ellen's, small and round, so they could convincingly play the same person. She's very classically beautiful, and her face seems almost innocent, which means she'd be that much scarier.




The Sphinx - Isaiah Washingon. I've only seen him in a few things, but if I remember correctly, he's got that great, deep, mellow voice the Sphinx is supposed to have. His skin isn't as dark as described in the book, but makeup can take care of that. And he's got a handome, mature, knowing kind of face.



Vanessa - This is one I'm torn on. Angelina Jolie would have been the obvious choice, but it's almost TOO obvious. Not to mention, you'd probably have to pay her an arm and a leg. So I'm torn between two actresses who are (slightly) lesser-known: Eliza Dushku and Erica Durance.
Eliza has the talent, no question. Her new show Dollhouse has her playing a different kind of character every week. But her face isn't classically stunning, the way Vanessa is supposed to be. She's beautiful, but it's almost in a weird way. Erica Durance is much more classically gorgeous, but having only seen her in Smallville, I couldn't tell you how strong an actress she is. She's great as Lois Lane, but can she do more? I'm not sure. She'd have to have darker hair if she were to play Vanessa, though. Good thing dyes and wigs are so easy to come by in Hollywood. :)




Tanu - There is a shortage of Polynesian actors in Hollywood. I know that Dwayne Johnson isn't what I pictured for Tanu, but who else is there? He's big, that's for sure, so he meets that qualification. He's also proved that he can do family-friendly movies. So until someone better suited to the character comes along, The Rock has my vote.




Coulter - Dustin Hoffman is one of the best actors alive! He can play any character! Who better to play paranoid, crusty, soft-on-the-inside, complicated Coulter? That one is a no-brainer.





Warren - I realize I'm a little biased here, but I love Milo Ventimiglia. He was great in Gilmore Girls, he's great in Heroes, and he was great in Rocky Balboa. When I think of Warren, I picture Milo. He's got the dark hair, he's slim but muscular, and he's extremely handsome. He's already proved he can play a hero, and that's what Warren is when you get down to it. And he and Nicholas Brendon look similar enough, I think they could pass for brothers.



Gavin - He's by far one of my absolute favorite characters in Fablehaven. You have to love the little romance between him and Kendra. Plus, the stutter is adorable. An endearing character like that needs an endearing actor to play him. Taylor Lautner hasn't done a lot, but he's currently making a name for himself, playing Jacob Black in the Twilight movies. He's so cute, I want to take him home and put him on my shelf. He makes me smile. He's tall, handsome, and muscular, too. He certainly looks like he could tame a dragon. And he's only a couple of years older than Dakota Fanning, which fits the age difference between the characters. And, like Gavin, he looks like there's more to him than meets the eye.



Patton Burgess - The world's greatest adventurer requires a smooth, handsome, action-hero type actor to play his character. The first person who came to mind (for me, at least) was the newest James Bond - Daniel Craig. He's not as youthful as I think the Patton Burgess we get to meet in book #3 would be, but he's handsome, and makeup does wonders. He's certainly got the physique, and he makes the ladies' hearts melt, the same way Patton does. Plus, I bet he'd look really hot in the old-school-style costume.


I realize this doesn't cover all the characters from the books. We still have the satyrs, the centaurs, Dougan, Mara, Rosa, Hal, Maddox, the parents, not to mention numerous fairies, demons, etc. But these are the mainest characters, and I think that's enough for now. :) After all, I'm not REALLY casting the movie. All those other characters are someone else's problem. ;)

Vampires = Us?

So I'm reading the Twilight series again, and I was thinking about the way Stephenie Meyer describes the vampires. They look like they did as humans, only they're perfect and therefore insanely beautiful. They don't age. They can run, leap, swim, etc. with impossible endurance. They've accumulated decades of intelligence, learning just about everything there is to know.

Meyer, like me, is LDS. So it occurred to me that she might be basing her vampire descriptions, ever so slightly, on what we may (possibly) become after the resurrection. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying this is doctrine or that this is for sure what she's doing. It just strikes me that there are similarities, at least to my understanding of what we will be like in the next life.

The way I understand it, once we're resurrected we'll be physically perfect versions of our best selves. Like I said, this is just my conception of things, I could be completely wrong. But that's how I always imagined it. We wouldn't age, physically. Our learning would continually increase. And I always pictured that, being in perfect physical condition, we'd be able to run and swim without getting tired. I also pictured that, as we learned and grew, we might someday be able to defy the laws of physics in some ways. I've always dreamed of being able to fly someday. I don't know if it's possible, but if it is, I plan to learn how. All my favorite dreams have involved flying. I know, Meyer's vampires don't fly, but running at ridiculous speeds is probably just as exhilarating.

Anyway, maybe I'm completely off-base with all this, but there do seem to be a lot of similarities between the Twilight vampires and (in my mind, at least) the way we'll all be after the resurrection. Granted, we don't be drinking blood or fighting with werewolves, but I think overall I'm okay with that. :)

Sappy Sucker

I am a total sap. I love watching shows like CSI and ER and all sorts of other things that only have initials. At the same time, though, watching these kinds of shows sometimes breaks my heart. Far too often there's a case that involves kids dying. No matter how many times I've seen the same kind of thing before, it kills me. Even reminding myself that it's just a TV show doesn't help. Seeing those little bodies, not moving, breaks my heart. Seeing the parents grieve over the loss of their child makes me bawl like a little baby, too. And of course kids' deaths are not the only sob-inducing storylines out there.

And yet, I continue to watch these shows, even though I know I'll more than likely run across more traumatizing episodes. Why do I do this?

Honestly, I'm not entirely sure. But I do have a few theories.

In a way, I believe that watching shows that show the dark side of life can be really helpful. When you know what's out there, you can be better prepared. I realize these shows are fiction, and that a lot of things are portrayed differently from how they occur in reality. But even so, I think I've learned a lot from watching these programs. I know that there's evil in the world, which makes me work harder to protect myself and my family. I also know that tragedy can strike anyway, no matter how safely you're living. That's not a happy topic, I know. But because I've thought about how my own life would be impacted by tragedy, thanks to the situations portrayed on TV, I feel better prepared to meet whatever challenges come my way.

I also think that I've learned a lot of empathy from these shows. When you let your guard down, and allow yourself to become involved in someone's story (the way one does when watching TV), you are affected by it. You learn to feel what other people are feeling. I think this can translate to real life. I've noticed that I can get choked up over a tragedy I read about in the news just as easily as I get choked up over a TV show. Hopefully this will make me a better person to have as a friend when bad things happen to the people I love. Maybe I can be a listening ear and a supportive shoulder for someone who needs it, and be more effective at it, thanks to the empathy I've developed partly from watching shows like CSI, ER, etc. (I do like to think that maybe some of it comes naturally, though).

Last but certainly not least, it's important to know that the good guys can win. Granted, they don't show on TV that they lose a lot of the time, too, but I believe that it's easier to deal with trials when you have hope that things will turn out right in the end. I have a testimony that, even if the "bad guys" win in this life, things will even out in the next. But that's not something a lot of people really believe. Having hope that the good guys will win can help those people when bad stuff happens. Hope can be a terrible thing sometimes, but I believe it's vital.

Anyway, I think those are probably some of the reasons I enjoy these shows so much. It helps, I'm sure, that they're also entertaining. But I like to think that maybe they can make my life happier and better in some ways, too, beyond mere entertainment power.

That way I don't have to feel guilty about being a couch potato. :)