Gay Television

What I am about to write will probably offend lots of people, simply because of the nature of my stance on homosexuality. However, I will do my best to not be outright rude about it. So here's your disclaimer/spoiler alert if you do not want to read about someone's strongly anti-gay opinions.

Right now what bothers me most is that my favorite television shows keep adding in gay or lesbian characters. These are tv shows that I purposely chose to watch initially because of their straight content, whether it was a "family" sitcom, a mystery, or a sci-fi show--stuff that has nothing to do with a person's sexual orientation. Usually it's to spike the ratings, to progress some political agenda, to make it seem perfectly normal and acceptable. (Poor Walt--he'd be rolling in his grave if he knew what the Disney-owned ABC "Family" network was airing these days!) It's like tv networks are throwing in token gay characters like they throw in token black or Asian actors in shows that are predominantly white. (The big, HUGE difference here of course is that people are not immoral for having different color skin.)

I bet Martin Luther King Jr. does not appreciate the gay and lesbian activists putting themselves on the same level as the African-Americans struggling for civil rights back in the mid-20th century. Your sexual orientation is NOT the same as having to drink from a different water fountain or ride in the back of a bus, especially since the color of your skin, your heritage, is not a choice.

That's right, I believe homosexuality is a CHOICE. Before we ever came to this earth, each and every one of us was created spiritually first. Our souls have an eternal identity that is directly linked with our sexual orientation. That means I was a woman before I came to this earth, and my husband has a distinctly male spirit.

So what happens when our imperfect bodies are born with missing parts, or sexually ambiguous organs? I used to think this wasn't possible, but since taking several biology classes, I can see that sometimes there are mistakes. I hope I am never in a position as a parent to have to choose the sex of my baby; if my baby was born with genital defects like that, I would spend many long hours praying and fasting for guidance, to know what gender the baby was truly meant to be. But aside from that very RARE exception, God puts us in the bodies that reflect our true gender.

I often feel quite sorry for the so-called gays and lesbians I have met; in a lot of cases, these kids were sexually abused and never had the chance to heal. In the case of lesbians, they feel they can never trust men again, and being with women is the only "safe" option. And because the rest of the world condones this behavioral choice, these girls never get the chance to truly heal and learn to trust again. They simply avoid whatever caused them the harm, missing an opportunity to grow as a person. 

The other kids who simply choose a gay lifestyle with no sexual abuse as provocation are confused, having had no clear role models in their lives. This could be from a dad that was never there, who left the family to be with another woman, a mom who abandoned her kids to pursue her own interests; all these can contribute to why a person chooses to be gay. They are lost, and I feel sorry for them.

What's worse is there are very few resources left for those wanting to reorient themselves in the right direction. Where does a man go who starts to have sexual feelings for other men but wants to conquer those temptations? Back in the 1980s homosexuality was officially removed from all psychology textbooks and encyclopedias as a mental defect; one of Satan's bigger victories, I should think. I have also been informed that therapists and other trained psychiatrists can lose their license for attempting to help anyone with homosexual tendencies, including patients who are purposely seeking help to overcome said tendencies.

Television likes to tout homosexuality as a political issue, teaching our youth today that only backwards-thinking old farts, people "out of touch" with the "real" world would reject a gay lifestyle. But it is not a political issue, it is a moral one. And nobody talks about morals anymore. So I will. It is morally wrong for men to have sexual encounters with other men; it is morally wrong for women to have sexual encounters with other women. (And those that swing both ways... well, that's being extremely selfish, in addition to being morally wrong.) It is also morally wrong to have sexual encounters outside of marriage, but that is a whole other blog entry.

We are meant to become like God one day, and God does not have an ambiguous sexual orientation. He has many spirit children that He wants to give a mortal experience, but that can only happen when a man and a woman who are legally wedded and committed to one another procreate, giving a body to one of God's spirit children. 

Satan, a being that is just as real as God, does not want God's plan to succeed, so of course Satan encourages immoral behavior like homosexuality. If he can make everyone gay, then no more of God's children can come to earth and receive a body, completely eliminating the possibility of taking the next step on our way to eternal life and exaltation! If Satan can destroy the traditional family unit by encouraging promiscuity in every direction, then even the children that do come into this life will be lost and they will make immoral life choices, ultimately damning humankind's progress.

But this stance only makes sense if you believe in God, if you believe there is more to our existence than this life alone. Our society is falling apart, and that is a direct result of immoral behavior which directly impacts the family unit. Babies born out of wedlock do not get the traditional father-mother support they need, and then they go and have premarital sex, perpetuating this broken pattern. The family unit is the basic unit necessary for any civilization's survival, whether or not you believe in a pre- and post-existence. 

Despite all this, I still believe those with homosexual tendencies can be forgiven, if they repent and stop following those incorrect impulses. Our world does not encourage self-control anymore; just look at our nation's debt. (That's actually another reason I think some teenage boys claim to be gay--they might be less attractive or somewhat nerdy and haven't had any dating success with the girls. So instead of being patient, working on becoming a better person, waiting for the right girl, they claim it's the rest of the world's problem to deal with their gayness.)

But God does not give us any temptation in this life which is beyond our ability to resist and overcome. He is there to help us. He wants us to succeed, as any loving father would want his children to be happy and succeed in life. Happiness does not come without pain and struggle, though. Gays will often beg their less supportive family members to just accept them and be happy that they are happy, but no one can be happy in this life going against God and nature. It may be a huge struggle for someone to overcome their homosexual urges, but those people are all the better for it in the end.

Kid Bans

Tonight was the second time I've read about a disconcerting, recent trend: More and more businesses are banning children from their premises. Don't get me wrong, l enjoy some kid-free time every now and again, but to impose child bans and discriminate against families? Aren't there night clubs and bars for those who want adult only company?

Honestly, I find it more than a little insulting that a business does not want me just because I have a child. I am doing the best I can here, working around my child's needs. I don't go to the store during my child's nap time. I bring food or a toy to keep him entertained; I don't keep him out way past his bedtime and expect everyone else to put up with his cranky behavior. But even if I take the time to plan around his needs, there will be times when he is cranky for reasons beyond my control, past the situations I've anticipated. 

Maybe those with low child tolerance should consider spending MORE time around children. Before I had kids, crying and whining would annoy the heck out of me; since having my own I'm actually much less likely to even notice other peoples' children, much less be annoyed. Being around kids has made me less irritable because I can tune it out now. A therapist friend of mine actually says desensitization is one of the most effective ways of dealing with psychological issues as severe as obsessive-compulsive disorder; I think that means desensitizing can work for something as minor as irritability with children. 

Also, instead of complaining about all these bratty kids, how about those without kids look for ways to help parents out? Literally. Give up your spot in line so the mom can check out of the store faster if her kids are upset! Something as simple as a smile or a funny face can help distract the child and make them stop crying. (Although I sadly admit even this small act can be misconstrued--stupid pedophiles. I say be nice to kids anyway, so we can build up that trust and faith in one another once again. Just don't be creepy about it.)

These people supporting child bans would also do well to realize that misbehaving is a NORMAL aspect of any child's development. It is abnormal for a three-year-old to sit perfectly still at a restaurant, or not want to get up and move around on a plane. I do agree there are some parents out there who do not want to put their child's needs first and will push the child beyond its limits; these parents are being selfish in causing the child unnecessary distress and disturbing those around them. 

The problem lies with how on earth we can differentiate the "pushed beyond limits" scenarios from the "normal developing child" outbursts. One cannot assume that all children are bad or that all parents are horrible for "letting" their child wail inside a restaurant--that is the message these "brat bans" are sending. Sometimes it is simply beyond a parent's control. The parents who already sacrifice and make special efforts to ensure a child is well-behaved should not be punished for the acts of a few who push their children too far.

Even the parents who make those bad choices should still be forgiven. Perhaps they never had good parenting modeled for them, or perhaps the rest of the world flaunting the good times that singles can enjoy derails their best efforts. I can't go out and "party" nearly as often as before I had children, but I like to think I am mature enough to accept that as my current situation in life. There will be time for childless nights later in life. Not everyone else with children can accept that yet.

This topic in particular irks me because of another article I read in a similar vein, about a young Asian couple who sold their kids to play video games instead of raise them. (There is a possibility the story was fake, but I would not be surprised if it really is true.) That and the rest of the world discouraging anyone under the age of 30 from getting married and having families is very disturbing. More and more people are refusing to accept the responsibilities that make a society stable. I am frightened for how the "free singles" will continue to portray those who hold to traditional family values as old-fashioned, second-class citizens. 

It's as if we are freezing our society in a permanent stage of adolescence--no ties to any one person or organization, constant self-pleasuring pursuits, and zero adversity (like the struggle to raise kids). This is resulting in a group of people completely incapable of dealing with any real-life problems at all, flitting from one thing to the next, never developing any strength of character, never becoming a better person, never learning to help others become better people. True unity in a society is all about becoming better people, all about helping others. This child ban is yet another way Satan is trying to divide us, to conquer us, to make us fall.


So if we can't really tell which kids are having a bad moment just because and which are having bad moments because of their parents' poor choices, what's the solution? A blanket ban would take care of it, and it would be the easiest solution in many ways. But that doesn't make it right, and it doesn't make us better people. In this case, an active acceptance, with help from everyone is the best solution. Otherwise, I guarantee our society will fall. 

All kinds of groups and causes are crying out for unity and tolerance in our world--why are the innocents, our own children, being left out?
 

Movie Review Monday: "How to Train Your Dragon"

After a brief hiatus, I'm starting up my regular blog posts. Here's a review of a fairly recent flick (one of my personal favorites!). Enjoy.

Movie Review: “How to Train Your Dragon”

Runtime: 98 minutes

Rating: PG

Year: 2010

Directed in part by both Dean DeBlois (writer for “Mulan” 1998 and “Lilo & Stitch” 2002) and Chris Sanders (writer for “Beauty and the Beast” 1991 and “The Lion King” 1994), this family feature team creates another masterpiece for theater and home. Of course, it helps when the material is basically already written: British author Cressida Cowell’s book makes a wonderful screenplay.

Jay Baruchel (“Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian” 2009) voices Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, the film’s misfit protagonist. Hiccup’s father, Stoic the Vast is Gerard Butler (Gerry in “P.S. I Love You” 2007), and television star America Ferrera, known as “Ugly Betty” (2006) to many, tries her hand at bringing an animated Viking girl to life.

Hiccup narrates the beginning of the film, describing his island home. Viking tradition dictates that only the strong survive, and much of the Viking tradition is based on slaughtering marauding dragons. Despite his father’s clan headsman status, Hiccup is an outcast, a misfit weakling more apt to using his brains than his brawn to solve problems.

In one particular attempt to show his value to the clan, Hiccup manages to bring down a legendary Nightfury—a rare dragon that no clansman can even physically describe—while no one is watching. When faced with killing the downed dragon, Hiccup cannot do it. Instead he befriends the “killer” creature, helping it to fly again. This friendship leads to many surprises about the dragons haunting their village and a possible solution for dragon and Viking alike.

The graphics in the film are amazing, particularly any scene shot in the air. “Shooting” typically refers to live-action films, but the details in the animation make the flight scenes vivid and completely lifelike. Viewing the film once again in high-definition, viewers might even notice a subtle fuzz of stubble on Hiccup’s adolescent face or individual hairs on a Viking’s animal-skin vest stirring in a slight breeze.

Some other delightful aspects of this film include the portrayal of the dreaded Nightfury dragon—its mannerisms are quite catlike and therefore familiar, helping audiences connect with the strange creature. With so many films produced today, directors might feel the need to add a dramatic edge by killing off key characters. Viewers will be delighted to see (spoiler alert!) no one important dies.

Better yet, to offset the sugary-sweet happy ending where nothing goes wrong, Hiccup does undergo some trauma, further demonstrating the strength of his character. This is great for young viewers especially—they learn that bad things may happen in life, but those challenges can be overcome.

This is an excellent film and should be rented, borrowed from friends or purchased for the next family night activity. As British author G.K. Chesterton says: “Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.” Or, in Hiccup’s case, befriended!

Tree Hugging

"Happy Feet" is one of the worst animated films of our day. That movie was horrible, full of left-wing propaganda and should not have been targeted toward children! Don't get me wrong, I am a firm believer in utilizing our resources wisely. We are stewards of the earth, after all, and where conserving, recycling and reusing makes sense, we ought to participate. But that film and others like it goes too far, making fun of organized religion, showing young children how animals in captivity can start to lose their minds if not properly cared for--in short, it was completely inappropriate for young audiences.


I am all for kindness towards animals and stopping abuse when possible. The animal cop television shows often reveal animal hoarders to be mentally disturbed individuals, people in dire need of companionship and therapy. The presence of these abused animals point toward bigger issues, and both owner and pet are rescued. When adopted and cared for properly, animals can provide much-needed companionship, they can teach responsibility and they can even perform vital services, such as guarding, sniffing out drugs or assisting the disabled. But when you ask me to donate my hard-earned money toward saving animals from hunger and abuse when there are just as many hungry and abused children out there, I start to have a problem. Animals are not more important than humans.

The resources put on this earth are meant to be used. Animals are meant to be eaten, to provide food and sustenance for us. I don't like to hear about cows or chickens being killed with unnecessary violence, but I'm also not going to go on strike and no longer eat what they produce. That's not the natural order of things right now. 

It's like the vast oil reserves in Alaska that the US government refuses to touch. All the politicians say to us is that the pipeline would look ugly, marring the natural beauty around it. Look ugly to who? The moose and bears? As long as it doesn't leak, it shouldn't matter. Heck, I'm sure they could paint the pipe white to blend in with the snow. Of course, whenever oil is harvested, there is always the risk of a spill, but I don't think that risk should matter more than gaining economic independence from the oil-rich Middle-eastern countries. In this case, preserving a vast, icy and otherwise unused portion of land is conserving to the point of ridiculousness, and I have a strong feeling that this "green" argument is just a smokescreen. Politicians could care less about the ugly pipeline; someone doesn't want us to gain oil independence.


Whenever I see a company boasting a new "green" achievement, I don't think, "Oh, how nice, they're concerned about the planet." I see it as, "Oh, how smart, they're saving money. That might save me a few bucks in the end, too." Different kind of green. It's a good thing conserving saves money or we wouldn't have quite so many participants. As it is, places like Idaho don't have very many recycling programs because it costs more money to establish a recycling program than it does to just keep dumping everything into a landfill. Having grown up in California, it still feels strange to just chuck an empty can or plastic jug into the garbage, even after living in Idaho for six years.


When I went on my school's British Literary Tour in 2007, I hadn't heard about the green grocery store movement. In Ireland, you can't find a plastic grocery sack to save your life. Everyone brings their own bags or they can purchase a reusable one at the store. It makes sense for a country as small as Ireland to be so vested in that program, but it was quite new to me. Since then, I have seen all sorts of stores move in that direction, including--surprisingly--a small local Idaho grocery store chain. Pretty soon all dog owners will have to purchase their doggy poop bags instead of just reusing grocery store bags.

I love the natural beauty in our world, and I want to do my part to care for it. Extremism is just not the right way to go about it. Wood from companies who plant new trees as they go, bamboo flooring or furniture, reusable grocery sacks and CFL light bulbs (the twisty ones that last for a very long time) are all things I am willing to purchase, if those materials are reasonably available. Spending my money wisely is also part of my stewardship, and if I can't afford those specialized items, I won't beat myself up. Balance in all things!

Self-Help

Sometimes when I am bored I peruse the Yahoo Answers page, looking for questions I can possibly answer. My responses are often picked as "best answer" by readers and by the actual question writer. It makes me wonder if I would be a good advice columnist. However, I have noticed a trend in people's problems, at least the ones I felt remotely competent to answer. 

For all the depressed people who ask why they are so depressed, I have a few standard answers, even for the ones who claim to have clinical depression and that their medication just doesn't cut it. The first thing I mention is everything physical. Get regular sleep, at the same time every day and for enough hours a day. Exercise daily, because working out makes you feel better and helps your sleep to be higher quality. 

Then I go on to suggest they start some sort of regular volunteer work, according to their interests. If they like animals, then they should volunteer at an animal shelter. If they like people, then an old folks' home; if they like reading or children, then work at the local library reading to underprivileged kids. Taking the focus off your own problems helps your issues not seem so big anymore.

I then tell them to not give up on it because it might take a few weeks or even months before they see any real difference in their lives. Finally, I mention religion, since religion can give us purpose for our lives, and I suggest they take a look at mormon.org. It might be a cowardly way to share the Gospel since everything is anonymous when I write these replies, but maybe religion would never occur to these people otherwise.

Another typical question is what teenage girls should do if they're pregnant. I strongly urge them to give up the baby for adoption, making it sound heroic to do so, since the world has started revering single mothers. It's one thing if the husband dies or runs out on the family--those mothers don't have any choice in the matter. It's another thing entirely to purposely choose to raise children in such a disadvantaged manner. I tell them it will take courage, but there are social workers who can help guide them in their decisions.

I once gave some advice to an angry-sounding husband, who was probably just looking for justification to leave his wife. I suggested some good communication skills he could learn, the idea that forgiveness is vital in any relationship, and that he should give his wife the benefit of the doubt. That reply was not chosen as "best answer;" I probably said a few things he really did not want to hear.

Anyway, I wrote this post after reading an article about how most self-help books are worthless. One book the article mentioned that is actually worth reading is Stephen Covey's "7 Habits of Highly Effective People." The reason books like this actually work is because they don't promise fast, easy results and focus on the basics of good human behavior (honesty, thrift, self-control). 

Change isn't supposed to be easy, especially when it comes to one's behavior. Hopefully the few bits of advice floating out there in cyberspace give the impression that to be happy takes time. It's a choice, an active process, and it takes time to see results.

Growing Up

It is still hard to believe I have a son, a son who is turning two years old this month. I have always thought about someday having a family of my own, but I never actually visualized these early years. I was never interested in children growing up, aside from my then peers. I'm still not entirely comfortable with kids, but I have learned a few skills that, in a pinch, make me a perfectly competent babysitter. I can change a diaper, I can figure out what food is appropriate to feed a kid at that age, and I can tell when a baby is so tired that nothing will fix it except time.

I remember my son's shaky entrance to this world--everyone was concerned how he would do since he was seven weeks early. Everybody released a collective sigh as my little one let out his first cry. They cleaned him up, wrapped him up, and I saw the little creature that had been living inside me for so long. It was a strange moment. I didn't know what to feel or even how I felt, but it didn't take me long to want to see him again. He was so tiny, and I wanted to know more about him.


He was sent to the NICU, while various tests were performed and he was poked and prodded and placed in an incubator. The real test was having to leave him at the hospital a day later; I was absolutely overcome with emotion, a rare sensation for such a logical me. He stayed in the hospital for over two weeks, and I visited as often as I could. It still meant he would be alone for the entire night, with only a nurse to keep watch. 

He looked so small in the incubator, with a feeding tube coming out of his nose and various monitor wires leading off of him. He even had to wear shades of a sort, for all the time he spent under the special jaundice light. But the day soon came when he was declared thriving and perfectly healthy for home life. It was another strange moment, walking out of that little room I had come to know so well in those few weeks for the last time. It was a graduation of sorts.


I remember his first bath, in a little pink plastic tub at the hospital, carefully keeping the umbilical cord stump dry. He was not happy about all the watery nonsense, and I was afraid of dropping him. His subsequent baths were much easier, and now he loves them, will even come running if he hears the water running in the tub.


I have kept a journal, writing down all the major milestones, like his first smile, first laugh, first time sitting up or rolling over. Sometimes I include his favorite foods or something he did that I never knew babies did at all.


I also remember the sleep deprivation, and later having him fall asleep on my chest while we rocked away the small hours of the night. My mom's cousin mused one day as we were visiting how special those quiet dark hours were and how much she missed them, and at the time I completely disagreed with her. I remember thinking to myself that I would never miss those times. There was utter elation the first night he slept for a full five hours straight, and a small pit of pain in my chest as I began to realize he was needing me less, that maybe there was truth in what my mom's cousin had said. I never thought I would miss my baby being a baby.

I remember the fear that came once he did sleep through the night, the irrational yet quite normal fear that he would die during the night from SIDs. I would have to get out of bed just to double check he was still breathing and I would rush to his crib first thing in the morning. I still have that vague fear, that for some reason he will be taken back to heaven in the night, having fulfilled his mission here on earth. I still pray that God will let me keep him, just a little while longer, because I love him so. It might seem silly or paranoid, but that is what rests in my heart of hearts.

I am glad for this season in my life, when I am supposed to have children. So many girls get into trouble, pregnant out of wedlock, and end up falling in love with their baby. It is natural and good for mothers to love their children, but that same connection can distort a single mother's view, making it hard for her to see just how much she is depriving that child by not giving it up for adoption to a stable, married couple. I am one of the fortunate ones who had a baby at the right season in life (while married), and I am grateful, despite the challenges that come from having kids before financial stability is achieved.

Children really do change absolutely everything. And as my baby has grown, I think I've grown up, too. 




 

A Working Title

In a previous post, I mused over what I would do with a million dollars. What I neglected to mention was what I would do for work after that. I couldn't handle life without some sort of regular, working schedule (it's boring enough right now, with only one kid to care for). There is my dream job, but there are other jobs that I am curious about and would like to do at some point in my life.


My dream job, after much consideration and many years of schooling, would be a cross between book editor, publisher and author. I don't necessarily like the formal editing process that happens in professional environments like journalism; I prefer the teaching style, where I can sit down with the writer and discuss their work with them. For me it's about helping someone with their thought process. Writing is just a means of communication, and if you can carry on a conversation you can write. Publishers get to read books and are paid for their time, even if the book is awful and would never be published, and I would also want time to write my own stuff.

Another place that I've always wanted to work is a bookstore. Of course that would come with one major drawback: I would want to spend my entire paycheck there! Unfortunately, with two major bookstore chains closing in my town within six months of each other (Barnes & Noble and Borders), I might not get the chance. With everything online these days, easy ordering, free shipping and major discounts, any bookstore still open is basically a money pit. Used book stores might be able to hold out a bit longer, we'll see. 

Not to mention the huge e-book craze that's hit the world. I understand that an electronic book is a lot cheaper than a paper copy, but I am old-school and prefer to turn a book's pages and smell that glue binding. There is just something charming about a book that has seen many hands; books used to be the only reliable way we could pass on our history. What happens when the earth's magnetic poles shift and all our electronics are dead? What will happen to our history then? Sure, that's a worst-case scenario, but it could happen. We still need our paper books. In the end, though, I will probably have to be a millionaire before I can work in a bookstore--then it wouldn't matter if the store's a money pit.


I have also thought about working in a flower shop. I love flowers (and don't say it's just a girl thing! Isn't farming, another profession all about plants, primarily a male profession?) I have an artistic, crafty side and I would have a lot of fun arranging bouquets. When I worked at a nursery, we would often cut flowers from our stock and make mini arrangements to brighten up the cash registers. Some people say why waste money on live flowers when they shrivel up in less than a week, but I can't stand artificial flowers. They get dusty, for heaven's sake. A little living plant can really brighten up a space, especially if they smell nice like gardenias. (Did you know there are flowers out there that actually smell like chocolate? The chocolate cosmos!)


One problem with the last two professions I mentioned is that unless I owned the shop, I'd have to deal with unruly customers according to the store policy and be subject to a boss or manager's whims. Unless they are very nice and unusually pleasant to work with, it would be best to own my own shop. But again, we're talking ideal situations here; if I were to own a business I'd have to spend a lot of time learning about actually running a business.


A job I have enjoyed before and wouldn't mind doing again later in life is reviewing movies. I get to see a movie for free with one or two guests, before it is released to the general public, then I get to say what I liked or didn't like and get paid to write it all down.

Anyway, it's nice to dream sometimes. I have many more years of living to do; who's to say I won't get to do at least one of these jobs?

Movie Review Monday: "Holes"

Movie Review: “Holes”

Release Date: 2003

Rating: PG

Runtime: 117 minutes

            Based off the best-selling novel “Holes” by Louis Sachar, this family film has a great mystery twist and a *spoiler alert* feel-good happy ending. Perhaps this film adaptation is so good because the author of the original novel also wrote the screenplay. Director Andrew Davis, better known for his work on “The Fugitive” (1993), took a stab at a type of film he is not known for: the family genre. Sigourney Weaver (“Avatar” 2009) takes the stage as this film’s villain, making audiences cheer for Shia LaBeouf’s (“Transformers” 2009) character, Stanley Yelnats.

A pair of famous sneakers starts off the mystery in the movie. Stanley Yelnats IV (LaBeouf) grew up with tales of his great-grandfather’s bad luck, and it seems like the family curse is real when he is sent off off to Camp Green Lake, a desert detention camp filled with venomous snakes and even more deadly lizards. Stanley was caught with a famous athlete’s shoes—a donation to a local homeless shelter—after the shoes literally fell out of the sky onto his head.

The character-building punishment for all boys sent to this camp: to dig a hole a day, five feet tall and five feet wide. Stanley’s curiosity is aroused, however, when he discovers a strange metal tube with the initials “KB” scribed on the side. The camp warden, Walker (Weaver), is extremely intrigued with this find, which soon stirs some memories for Stanley. His great-grandfather had been robbed by a famous outlaw, “Kissin’ Kate” Barlow, a bandit that kissed her victims with bright red lipstick.

All the boys sent to Camp Green Lake have their own story to tell, and through Stanley the audience experiences several different adolescent issues. There is some bullying Stanley has to deal with, but he also learns how to make friends and extend empathy towards the other boys. Again, this was all in Sachar’s book, but teens are more likely to watch a movie than read a book.

This story is great on its own, so very few special effects were needed. The deadly yellow-spotted lizards were mostly computer animated, but other than that, this movie stood on its own plot. The music fits the desert-like aspects of Camp Green Lake and the flashes back in time.

One part of the book that did not find its way into the film was Stanley’s physical stature. In the book, Stanley is a bit overweight and thus has body image and shyness issues. Digging the holes was a way for Stanley to lose the baby fat and build up his self-confidence. It is a more subtle theme in the book, but it would have been nice to see on the silver screen as well. And while the warden’s plan for all the holes was purely selfish, it goes to show that hard work really is character-building.

The film is rated PG, so there are a few violent scenes. The violent scenes are based on racial prejudices from the late 1800s to early 1900s. Viewers should also keep in mind that ignoring racism is like saying it doesn’t exist, (to borrow a phrase from the Tom and Jerry cartoon collections). All in all, this is definitely a movie (and a book!) to add to the shelf.

Leaping Lessons

If someone would have approached me six years ago and told me that within the next five years I would get married, my sister would die, I would have a preterm baby and then get pregnant again, I would absolutely not have believed a word of it. Yet here I am, expecting, another child waiting to come take his (or her) turn in the world.

I have never been a baby person; my "babysitting money" as a teenager came from yard work. The first three months of marriage, I cried every Sunday. The wailing babies, the rowdy toddlers, the pregnant women on every pew... The pressure to start procreating was overwhelming. When I was younger I had imagined myself with a family of my own on occasion, but in my mind's eye, the kids were always at least ten years old. I could never picture myself with a baby, which is how all ten year old kids start off.

Trusting to a doctor's diagnosis, my husband and I had "relations," and not two months after said diagnosis, I was pregnant with my first kid. I was in shock, denial, annoyed that God would give me this task before I was ready. My sister thinks that's why I had my little one early; I had to go through the risk of losing him to come to love him. That month I spent in the hospital before he was born, she pointed out I stopped calling the baby "it" and finally started calling it "him."

I never liked the idea of women in my area getting pregnant while their husbands were still in college just so they would be qualified for government aid and basically have their babies for free. Yet I was very much forced into this position with my first one. There is no way I could have ever paid off the $250,000 hospital bill it took to get him here. Heck, I would still be paying off the ambulance ride ($9k) if it weren't for programs like Medicaid.

Some have reassured me that since I am a taxpaying citizen and I am paying my dues, I have the right to use the aid out there. It might seem racist, but there are those who say better me using it than some illegal alien. Yet there are others who think it's wrong to sponge off the government no matter what, that you should never go into a pregnancy knowing full well you can't pay for it. The situation with my first one was unique, since I wasn't purposely procreating at the time.

I am keenly aware, however, of my using the system to my advantage this time around. I know we can't afford another baby right now. I only get health insurance when I'm pregnant. I know it looks so unwise to so many people; looking at it myself I can see how dumb it looks to have another kid when we can barely support ourselves. I just can't shake the feeling that this is what I need to do in my life right now. 

I need family; my sister's death has helped me realize that. My little one needs a sibling; I can't wait until things are perfect to have another child, because that would guarantee he is an only child. (Only children miss out on a lot socially and developmentally, and I can't wait for my kids to have the type of bond I had with my sister.) I could have waited another year, so my husband would be graduated by the time the baby came. In fact, that was my plan if I didn't get pregnant by November (it may seem odd, but I don't want to have a baby during the winter months). But apparently God thinks now is the right time to add another member to my family. 

This is what a leap of faith looks like, everyone. I know the struggles I will face, waiting for my husband to figure things out with schooling and his career. I know the challenge of caring for one child, and I can imagine how those challenges multiply when adding another child to the mix. I am an intelligent person, and it makes my awareness of the precariousness of my situation all the more vivid, perhaps even making my sacrifices all the more meaningful. 

In the end, though, having children means more to me than all of that. Having these two children now is more important than waiting until things are financially stable, waiting until the road is smooth and predictable. I am going into this with my eyes wide open. Yes, children are a blessing, and yes there are moments of joy--first steps, first kisses, first words--but it is a long, hard road from here.

Sports Again?

Soccer is the biggest sport in the world, and athletes are among the top paid professionals in the world. Add to that the pressures of reputation and possible thousand-man riots, and you get some pretty strange results.

An article online posted a video of one Chilean soccer player who went to desperate--and amusing--lengths to get a free foul kick. He grabbed an opposing teammate's hand and made the other guy slap him in the face. The referee was caught off guard and ended up rewarding Chile the free kick, but fortunately Chile still lost. Some might admire this soccer player's creativity--it's definitely out of the box thinking--but just imagine if his talents could be honed to do something productive for humanity. 

I think I have mentioned in my blog before how silly I used to think those toddler soccer leagues were, until I had my own kid who LOVES kicking a ball around and has boundless energy. I now see that there must be other parents with my view, who see sports as a genuinely good team-building experience and a great form of exercise. I still think most of them are fanatics, but I'm getting used to the idea of allowing and even encouraging my kids to play sports.

I have played on a couple sports teams in my life--hard to believe, but there it is. I was on the junior varsity basketball team my freshman year of high school. I don't even remember why I tried out in the first place. My dad likes basketball, maybe that had something to do with it. Anyway, it was a lot of work. Two hours of practice every day after school and then travel time for away games and practice during the holidays consumed a lot of my days. I never really got to play much in the actual games; I'm not the athletic type and lack the drive or killer instinct to really play competitively. But it was great exercise, I'm pretty sure my teammates appreciated my positive attitude, and it was a unique experience for this bookworm. 

I've also played volleyball on occasion. I can be a bit timid when it comes to diving for a ball (hey, I don't have knee pads), but I'm a pretty darn good server. But I would never dedicate my life to the sport. Athletics should be a hobby, not a career choice, especially for Mormons who do everything in moderation. Not many professionals could get away with not playing on Sundays; I'm not about to put a hobby above my religion. 

Too many LDS kids sacrifice too many Sundays to their sports teams. Those teenage years are crucial to forming lasting friendships with those who share the same values. More importantly, those years of seminary and Mutual activities are the crucial time for adolescents to gain a testimony of the church. The church has done a study, and the time when most members go inactive is the late teenage years, 18 through 21, and the majority of those are girls.

Not all sports teams are willing to have players who aren't a hundred percent dedicated; skipping out on Sunday games can demoralize a team. When my kids play sports, they will only play if their coaches allow them to miss Sundays. If that means they don't get to be the star quarterback then so be it. If it means I have to drive 20 hours to catch up with the team's travelings early on a Monday, allowing my kid to worship on Sunday, then I am perfectly willing to do it. Living one's religion should be a sacrifice; hopefully my children will understand that when the time comes for them to make those decisions on their own.

A few weeks ago my husband came home with some work gossip. Apparently some of his coworkers had been lectured, admonished, ordered by their Elders Quorum president not to watch the Super Bowl that Sunday. His coworkers were very agitated, and my husband got angry too. The church does a pretty good job about allowing the members to make their own choices--teaching us basic principles and then allowing us to exercise our agency. No prophet has come right out and forbade us members from watching sports on Sundays, that I know of.

I immediately gave that poor president the benefit of the doubt. In the church, leadership is divided up into groups, an effective way to keep charge of all the members. Technically, that Elders Quorum president does have jurisdiction over the young men attending that particular ward. I tend to think that the president had some in-depth knowledge about his young men and their particular struggles, and maybe keeping the Sabbath day holy is one thing with which they struggle. 

Sports can really rile people up and distract from what is supposed to be a day of worship, if they don't skip church altogether while "preparing" for the big game. So this Elders Quorum president's admonition was really only guided toward his members to address a particular issue. Even if he worded things incorrectly, his intentions were still good. Sports are corrosive by their very nature--you know, contention being of the devil and all.

Then some members will argue that they are so strong in the gospel that watching sports on Sunday won't affect their testimony. It might not have any immediate ramifications, but even the strongest testimonies can be chipped away over time. Admittedly, this is probably easy for me to say because I have no great love of sports. What's physical all eventually fades away; academic, intellectual achievements are more long-lasting. Then again, some spectators do feel inspired watching the great athletes break records and achieve new heights. 

Love and Marriage

Recent studies have shown a trend in recent years, not of divorce itself, but rather the idea that you become like those with whom you associate. If you are married but hang out with a lot of divorcees, these studies show that you too will become another statistic. On the other hand, if you are married and hang out with married couples, you are more likely to stay married. The more pessimistic members of society denounce the idea of marriage at all, if you're just as likely to split up as stay together, but with all the marriages that happen in life, on television, in our books and other media, we must still want it.

The reason we still participate in marriages (besides any religious beliefs that steer us towards it and the fact our society only functions properly when the basic family unit is functioning) is because of hope. Young singles attend yet another friend's wedding reception because they hope to someday share in that union. Already married couples attend weddings because it can be a fun night out, a way to show support for family or friends, or it can be a chance to rekindle feelings and relive memories of their own wedding. Even those who have been divorced will often remarry; they still hope and believe in the institution of marriage. There are even divorced marriage counselors out there, and I think that is very brave.

Now, religiously speaking, for Mormons I think it's easier to join in the marriage festivities and at the same time harder. It's easier because you'll find a lot more willing participants in any given age group because of our shared beliefs. We believe that a man and a woman must be sealed together in order to obtain salvation and perfection in the next life. While single, it means we are actively seeking a lifelong partner, and while we look we work on becoming the best version of ourselves. That's great for the world. That marital bond is also great for raising good kids and adds dependability to an increasingly chaotic world.

Yet these ideals can make life difficult for the singles in the church. There's lots of pressure to marry, and as the years go by hope starts to fade and doubt creeps in. It just gets worse as you get older, especially as you realize there are those who will never get the chance to marry in this life and you could be one of them. A particularly famous single LDS lady comes to mind: Sheri Dew. She is an amazing woman with an incredible testimony, yet she has not been married or had the chance to raise her own family. She has probably come to terms with her role in this life by now, but I am sure there are still times when she wishes things could have turned out differently. 

Keep in mind that the Lord will always give us the chance to keep His commandments--if He has commanded that every one of us needs to be sealed before getting into the highest kingdom of heaven, He will provide a way. I'm thinking there will be lots of Millennium weddings. My sister always did find the young men in my grandma's yearbook very attractive, the ones that died in military service shortly out of high school. 

The point is what's in your heart--if you are a member of the church and still single, yet you're doing everything on your end to be a worthy companion, the Lord knows it and will provide a way. Weddings are a marvelous tradition and can be quite fun, but they are also necessary to our eternal salvation. I will continue to hope for my single friends, for my married yet struggling friends, and for marriages everywhere.

Chores

Chores: A banal term that children abhor and adults endure. Yet there are certain tasks required to run a household of any kind. Those with busy jobs and lots of money often hire someone else to do it; the more common arrangement is to divide up the household tasks among those living in a given household.

When I was a child living at home, chores were something that kept me from having fun. I never received an allowance growing up, although some bigger chores like mowing the lawn would yield a few dollars of spending money. (Personally, now that I have my own child and some adult perspective, I think this is the best way to go. Otherwise kids expect money for every little task; definitely an unrealistic view of the world.) 

As I got older chores were the roadblock between me and a fun weekend with friends, and later a power struggle between me and my parents. I might not want to take out the garbage the second I walk in the door from school, but I am willing to do it by a given time later that day, for example.

Later, as I went out and started living on my own, chores became a battle between roommates, girls fighting over mounds of stinking, dirty dishes, chore charts and weekly apartment inspections. When I came back home, chores became an exchange for room and board during my summers off or a courtesy during holidays.

Now that I've been married, there is an entirely separate dimension to housework. My husband grew up in a family that had some money, so between the maid, a very clean mother, and a typical teenage attitude, he did not gain an appreciation for contributing to household duties. This meant I had to find a way to persuade an independent-minded young man that chores are necessary and not always all that bad.

The best technique has been a combination of persistence and gratitude: thanking him sincerely whenever he does complete a chore (especially dishes, because that is my LEAST favorite chore), and leaving a task undone if he agreed to do it. For the first year or so we had dishes sit in the sink for days at a time, but it needed to happen. Now there is barely a day that goes by without dishes being washed.

For my hubby's particular case, we also needed to come up with a way that I could remind him without him taking it as an insult. (He has ADD and can be quite forgetful sometimes.) This required patience on both our parts, since I had to learn to not get angry at him for forgetting, and he had to get over his anger at me for reminding him--reminders can easily become or be perceived as nagging. Lists will work if he is the one writing them, and verbal reminders work if he asks for them in the first place (or if I ask him if he needs a reminder in the future). Again, these measures are necessary for us because of his ADD.

Another element to completing chores that I find works for us is being flexible. When we were in school, each semester was different. We were on different tracks, for one, and sometimes one of us would have a harder term than the other. Right now, since I'm done with school, I do more of the household chores. I do not completely take over, however. Even in his busiest semesters I like for hubby to do at least one chore on a regular basis, to keep him in the habit of helping out. Sometimes we even sit down and talk about the division of labor, if I feel he's not doing enough or if he is feeling overwhelmed at school and needs me to do even more for him.

One arrangement I particularly appreciate is our meals and dishes trade-off. Whoever cooks dinner does not have to wash dishes. Since I cook most of the time, my hubby does dishes most of the time. Every once in a while I ask him to cook dinner, but he tends to use a LOT more dishes than me when cooking! Thus he does dishes more often.

Whenever we get a house with a lawn, I will probably be in charge of mowing and landscaping. I like being outdoors and I don't have allergies; hubby finds yard work tedious and has pretty bad hay fever. He does like climbing, though, and will probably be in charge of clearing out the gutters and hanging up Christmas lights. It just makes sense to divide things up this way.

I've also noticed over the years that my husband has gained a new appreciation for a clean home and his contributions toward it. He now voluntarily takes on various cleaning projects on occasion and I can tell he feels a certain amount of pride when our place is clean. He also grumbles a lot less when I do ask him to do something less than pleasant. He'll still cringe at the word "chores," mostly out of habit, but I'm glad I've been able to teach him the essentials to keeping a clean home. (Working as an early morning janitor on campus for a few months probably helped a lot, too!) 

Movie Review Monday: Stardust

Movie Review: “Stardust”

Release Date: 2007

Rating: PG-13

Runtime: 127 minutes

This film, adapted from Neil Gaiman’s novel of the same title written in 1998 is the springboard for director Matthew Vaughn’s fantasy. In an age where nearly all films utilize CG (computer graphics) effects and many are completely composed by computers, Vaughn is known for his “less is more” approach. He views CG as “a prop to the story, not the other way around.” Big names like Michelle Pfeiffer (“Hairspray” 2007) and Robert de Niro (“Meet the Parents” 2000) add familiarity to the primarily British cast, with Claire Danes (“Romeo and Juliet” 1996) and Charlie Cox (“The Merchant of Venice” 2004) bringing younger fans to the theaters.

The film begins with a letter to the local science community of the 1800s, asking about the possibility of a hidden realm within England’s borders. The scientists dismiss the letter, replying that of course the idea was impossible, but the narrator (Ian McKellen) states the scientists were mistaken after all. The other dimension actually borders the small village of Wall, so named for the wall that was kept under surveillance at all times.

A local village boy startles the guard and crosses over the Wall, seeing firsthand the secret land of Stormhold. He meets a beautiful, mysterious young woman in a strange bazaar. Nine months later, this is how the main character, Tristan Thorn, (Charlie Cox) enters the story: in a basket on his father’s doorstep.

He is a fairly ordinary boy, and in an attempt to woo his love, Victoria (Sienna Miller, “G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra” 2009), he offers to bring her back a grounded shooting star. This means crossing the Wall and discovering just how different things are in Stormhold.

Magical transporting candles, witches, pirates, princes and thieves make for an exciting, original tale. Although Stormhold is a fantasy world, the story really does not focus on the mechanics of magic, aside from a fallen star granting immortality. The story does not have to justify its magics; the world across the Wall just is. This allows for more character development and for the audience to see how surreal power like magic effects an imaginary population like Stormhold. Again, it focuses on the people, not the magic.

The scoring is absolutely fantastic, just the right mix of heart pounding, adrenaline-pumping, soaring music to match the ethereal, celestial elements of the movie. It has the same excitement to it as did the Lord of the Rings soundtrack and Harry Potter music; very well suited to the fantasy genre.

There is some gore to the film—a major part of the plot includes seven princes all trying to kill each other for the throne—but there is plenty of humor to offset even the most grotesque moments. The evil in the film, while dark at times, helps make the heroes shine all the brighter, and makes their triumphs more meaningful overall.

This film is fantastic for anyone who enjoys fantasy, adventure, romance and comedy, all rolled into one. Track down a copy today!

Out Hunting

According to an article I recently perused on Yahoo's home page, people aren't being considered for new jobs if they are currently unemployed. My first thought is how ridiculous that sounds--aren't the unemployed the main body of applicants? On the other hand, I do understand some of the reasoning why hiring companies might make the choice to exclude the unemployed. It still makes the job hunt more difficult.

The main reason companies won't hire a victim of layoffs is the assumption that they must not have been all that valuable to their former employer if they were let go. It's an easy way to throw out a lot of applications; since companies everywhere have taken hits, they might not have the manpower to go through every single resume in detail. There are plenty of perfectly valuable employees out there, though. Who is to say the former employers didn't make huge mistakes in letting go of the people they did?

And if the economy is suffering so much, why don't we have better service yet? Some employers laud the economic downturn and have supposedly taken it as an opportunity to weed out the unmotivated and strike some worker gold. Yet I am often unimpressed with customer service today. Sure, a company might have the cream of the crop, but if they're spread so thin from trying to do three people's jobs, they aren't able to provide the quality service that they should.

Most adults have had at least one menial labor job in life, whether as a janitor in college or a burger flipper in high school. It's jobs like these that our parents say we go to school for in order to avoid having to do it for the rest of our lives. But even the proud have to eat; one day that movie ticket taker could be you. I wonder if some of the unemployed out there are out of work because they are too proud to serve lunch to hungry high school kids. 

Aldous Huxley had a very interesting view of a possible working world in his novel, "Brave New World." In this book the entire human population is manufactured in tubes, with each fetus destined for one of several castes. With chemical additives and early brainwashing, people are created to fulfill every type of job necessary to perpetuate human life, including avid consumers. This means the broom pushers and garbage collectors have no other ambition in life but to fulfill their roles doing menial labor. They are happy to do so because they have no other expectations in life and no brain capacity to think otherwise. As horrific as depriving embryos of oxygen sounds, wouldn't it be wonderful if we could all be matched up to our ideal, perfect job?

Huxley's view also completely disregards a person's agency. In his world, only those at the top, running the operation, had any brainpower to use their agency. Even the most intelligent of Huxley's characters were restricted, limited by their position and standing. It is a very dark, depressing and lonely book to read, but it does make you think.

So until we can manufacture the perfect bag boy, we must be content to use our agency while we are out job hunting. It's a difficult balancing act, though, between caring for our families and not squandering our talents and potential. Despite all that, I still miss being a part of that action--the stress of filling out applications, the nerves at the interview, the nerves the first few days of work as you wonder how on earth you're going to learn this job and be a valuable asset to the company.

To those still looking, happy hunting. It may look bleak, but Heavenly Father wants us to succeed; He endorses the family unit, and He knows that caring for a family means having a source of income! 

Manna

Growing up in the church, I spent plenty of Sundays learning all the stories in the Bible, the different problems they were faced with and all the different ways the people reacted. My mother would always tell me I had the patience of Job, and I remember thinking as a little kid why on earth she would compare me to that man. I didn't lose a bunch of camels, sheep and money. I was sick quite a bit as a young child, though, and perhaps there is the parallel. Relating to the scriptures is the best way to learn them, at any age.

In church, we typically had the same teacher every Sunday, as long as the calling would last. Some days we would have a substitute, and the Primary leaders would give them a small treat, like a roll of Lifesavers candy. (The person volunteering to substitute is the "lifesaver.") One Sunday our substitute was teaching us about the law of consecration. I have since learned that it's more or less the perfected version of communism, where everyone helps out everyone else by sharing what they have and distributing wealth equally. Our teacher explained it simply as being willing to share everything we have with the Lord and each other. We were only ten years old, after all; we didn't need to go into the politics of it. 

Anyway, after our lesson, our teacher was handed a roll of Lifesavers candy. I promptly leaned over to her and said, "Remember the law of consecration!" Her lips parted, as if as if to protest, when it hit her just how well her lesson had sunk in. Raising an eyebrow and smirking at us, she opened the roll and handed each of us one colored, fruity-flavored "o." Of course I only wanted to point it out because it would benefit me; if I was the one with the roll of Lifesavers, I would have been very upset if someone had whispered that same thing to me. But I like to believe I've learned a few things in the decade or so since this lesson and that I would be willing to do just what our teacher did for us.

Another Bible story that has always struck me as rather odd is the time when the children of Israel stumbled across some venomous snakes. Moses fashions a serpent of brass and puts it on his staff. (This is where the two snakes with wings wrapped around a staff that you see in medical institutions comes from, by the way.) All the Israelites have to do if they get bit by a snake is look at the staff Moses is holding. I remember thinking, "That's so easy! Who wouldn't do that, even if they were skeptical?" But apparently if something is just too easy, people won't even try it. Lots of Israelites died that day. 

Of course, there's all sorts of symbolism in these stories, too. Later I learned that Moses' staff represented Christ, and how we must all look unto Him so as to be born again spiritually. Christ conquered death so that we can live again. I've found that seeking Christ in my life isn't easy; maybe I'm missing the same thing those Israelites missed when they refused to look at the staff.

I used to think the Israelites were pretty whiny when I first learned about them. They got free bread from heaven every day--a manna miracle every day--and all they did was complain about it. Recently I had a little insight of my own into the mind of those Israelites. There is a government program for poor children and pregnant women, called WIC, that provides free food based on your income. My little one gets a free allotment of milk, a few types of whole grain cereals, dry beans, cheese, fruit juice, bread and eggs. When I was pregnant, I also received free food--staples, like those listed above. I have caught myself thinking, "I am so tired of eating this boring food. It's the same thing every day--milk and cereal, cheese sandwiches and scrambled eggs." 

So, clearly, it is possible to think just like an Israelite. True, my food doesn't just appear on my doorstep every morning, but it might as well. Yet here I am, taking it for granted. I guess I shouldn't be so quick to judge others complaints, now that I've had a similar experience. At least I get a little variety, and hopefully I won't have to eat this way for another 40 years.

Who knew the Bible, as old as it is, could still be so relevant?

Surprises

Surprises come in all shapes and sizes, good and bad, big and noisy or small and simple. Noticing my son has a full, smelly diaper: big, bad surprise. (Okay, it is healthy that he's having regular bowel movements, but still, it can be off-putting to have to deal with that right around my own mealtime.) My husband bringing me home a candy bar: small, good surprise. Life is full of them, and I've had a few good ones lately.

Yesterday our neighbors dropped by with a little bag of chocolates for us. Small, very good surprise. I like to share a lot, particularly when I make any sort of baked good; my husband and I don't really need a whole pan of brownies all to ourselves. But sometimes I feel bad when nobody reciprocates. I will continue to share, whether or not anyone returns the favor, but it sure is nice when someone does it back.

Yesterday my father sent me a little something for Valentine's Day. He usually does something for me, but it was getting late in the day and I figured he just got too busy this year. I never want to expect things like that and then have to calm myself down for getting so worked up over my expectations. Well, nice little surprise: he DID remember, the delivery people were just late! 

Today my sister-in-law dropped by for a visit. I hadn't seen much of her lately because she is expecting, and most ladies do not feel well at all for those first three months! So today she visited us for a few hours, playing games with us and chatting. It was also a distraction and something new for my little one, so he was happier and not bored today. (Moms can be sooooo boring sometimes.) Then, during my sister's visit, my Visiting Teacher dropped by with some Valentine's sugar cookies, "extending the holiday," as she put it. Delicious cookies, but it was even nicer that someone was thinking of me. So two more little happy surprises.

Then there are the not-so-good surprises. In some areas of the country, where winters are harsh and the heat must be on 24/7, power bills go way up. These areas usually have government-run programs as well, extra funds or "grants" to help low-income families pay for their heat in the winter. My family qualified for assistance (not a surprise, since I've participated in the program before, but still good). However, the assistance will not kick in for another five weeks: bad little surprise. At least the credit lasts until we use it up and doesn't have to be used by the end of winter.

Another bad little surprise: still no paycheck in the mail. My hubby did a little side job for about five days a few weeks ago, and we still haven't been paid for it. It's tough going to check the mail every day only to be disappointed. Also, I've only received one letter back from the missionaries I've been writing to, after sending out a total of six letters over the past couple months. They are busy, though; in this sense it's a real service on my part to continue writing, regardless of whether or not they write back. I appreciate mail that's not junk or a bill, so I'm sure they do, too.


My aunt and uncle started a "lemonade" wall a while ago, something in which their whole family participates. It's a giant sheet of paper, and each family member writes down when something good happens to them, and everything goes up there, big or small. I think it's also supposed to be a way of looking for the positive spin even in negative scenarios, turning life's lemons into lemonade. It's actually a very good idea. Psychologically speaking, when a person purposely looks for the good things in life, they view their life as happier and better overall. If you think your glass is half full, you're exactly right.


Maybe I should start my own lemonade wall. Those sugar cookies would definitely be up there :)

Movie Review Monday: The Scarlet Pimpernel

Happy Valentine's Day! Here's a slightly romantic film review:

Movie Review: “The Scarlet Pimpernel”

Release Date: 1982

Rating: NR (My opinion: PG)

Runtime: 136 minutes

“The Scarlet Pimpernel” is a literary classic, brought to television by British-born director Clive Donner (1926-2010). Donner directed many made-for-tv films, like “Oliver Twist” (1982) and “A Christmas Carol” (1984). Stars Jane Seymour (“Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman” 1993-98) and Anthony Andrews (“David Copperfield” 2000) bring the smoldering intensity of Baroness Emma Orczy’s characters to life. Ian McKellen, known for his roles as Gandalf in the Lord of the Rings films and as Dumbledore in the Harry Potter films, plays Orczy’s villain.  

Clanging iron bars open to a jail cell filled with well-dressed citizens: French aristocrats. The “aristos” are led through a courtyard full of commoners cheering for “The Republic!” and jeering at the prisoners. In the center of the courtyard stands “Madame Guillotine.” This story unfolds during the French Revolution, when many upper class citizens were slain for no other reason than their titles.

Fortunately this opening scene is also when the hero arrives. He is sitting hunched over, driving his horses and has bushy eyebrows, unkempt hair and a voice like an old, rheumatic man. With the help of only a few friends on the inside, the Scarlet Pimpernel saves an innocent aristocrat family—wife and young son included—from the guillotine.

The Scarlet Pimpernel is actually Sir Percy Blakeney (Andrews), an English aristocrat, who puts on airs and seems quite snobbish and foolhardy. While on reconnaissance one evening he meets Marguerite St. Just (Seymour), a famous French actress, and soon falls in love. Marguerite perceives there is something more to Percy and returns his affections, much to Chauvelin’s dismay.

Paul Chauvelin (McKellan) is the captain of the French police and is pursuing Marguerite, at least until Percy arrives. Chauvelin is also a key player to the film’s French Revolution. But the Scarlet Pimpernel continues to elude him, saving more lives along the way, driving Chauvelin to drastic measures.

Since this film was made nearly 30 years ago, some of the cinematography is a bit lacking. There are a few night scenes in which details are very difficult to decipher, and the picture is not of the highest quality. The costumes and hairstyles were very well done, however, and seem quite accurate for the period. The music also feels appropriate for the setting of the film—lots of classical pieces full of violins buzzing and trumpets blaring.

Older films tend to go at a bit slower pace compared to the plots of today’s films, but whether due to a particularly forward-thinking screenplay writer or due to the Baroness’ original skills, the movie keeps up a rather exciting pace. There are many moments full of suspense, lots of chase scenes and even a swordfight.

The chemistry between Percy and Marguerite elicits empathy for their success as a couple, and Chauvelin’s cutthroat politics makes him a villain viewers love to hate. This film is an oldie, but certainly a “goodie,” and worth having in one’s personal collection, or at least in a rental lineup.

Break It Down

My husband managed to break off our driver's side car door handle, (for the second time--this most recent handle was actually a junkyard pick to replace the first one), so now we have to crank down the window and open the door by pulling on the outside handle. Our ice scraper also bit the dust this week, after several years of hardy service clearing off very iced-over windows during some harsh Idaho winters. And the Gilmore Girls dvd collection I inherited has proven to have severe scratches on half the disks, rendering them useless.

It stinks when things break down, especially the everyday ones we tend to take for granted. Like a car door's inner handle. Personally, I think they were just poorly made, since I have heard of several other Toyota Corolla owners having to replace a few door handles of their own over the course of the car's life. I think it's just a problem with older models, like models from 1999 or older...or my husband's tendency to be a bit rough on things.

My sister was like that, too. I distinctly remember lending her a picture book of mine, only to have it returned to me with the cover bent halfway over on itself. Actually, I think I rediscovered it when she was cleaning her room one day and had pulled out a large pile of stuff from under her bed. I never liked lending her my things after that. Her cd collection is completely scratched up--she loved listening to music in the car, but it's not always possible to put a cd back in its case when you're supposed to have two hands on the steering wheel. Thus most of her music collection is scratched beyond recognition.

And that's why it doesn't surprise me that her Gilmore Girls dvds are in such bad shape. It's funny how the things she did used to make me so mad--they still do sometimes. I guess it's my way of staying connected to her. When people die we tend to idealize them and forget all their bad parts (a similar phenomenon occurs when we are dating). My sister is an amazing person, but I like to keep my memories real, including the few irritating parts.

Perhaps I should simply lower my expectations for how my things will be treated from now on. I do have a toddler, and everyone knows that kids are often the reason we "can't have nice things." Tongue in cheek, but it's based in reality. Wasn't Thoreau always admonishing humanity to "Simplify, simplify"? If I have no earthly possessions, I can't get upset about them being ruined.

Still, it is human nature to grow attached to certain things during our life. Why else do we keep the old dried flower, the restaurant receipt, favorite shoes or junior high track medal? I used to hate going through all the things I had acquired when I was younger; now that I've had to pack, move and unpack my things so many times, I relish the opportunities to downsize. The process itself is still not fun--you are throwing away pieces of yourself when you sort through all that--but the end result is liberation.

The best way to save your possessions is to think of a time or period in your life that they represent. Sure, it's cute to see your childish kindergarten scrawls on yellowed paper, but do you really need to keep every scrap of paper you ever brought home that year? I think two or three papers per year is sufficient, and later, with more schoolwork, two to three samples per subject. You know, a spelling test, a page of math homework and an art project or two. 

Now that computers are everywhere, it gets even easier to store past work--essays are all typed up and saved to a hard drive. There's also a computer's scanning capabilities. Heck, it would be wise to scan all the paper memories in case of a fire.


I'm just holding my breath that nothing else breaks this week. Sure, it can be a character-building opportunity, but I have had enough of that for a while, thank you.