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.

Lord of the Rings

When I am reading a novel, I often get stuck--in a mood, a thought pattern, something--until I have finished processing the story and how I feel about it. Just yesterday I finished reading the Lord of the Rings series, by J.R.R. Tolkien, a series I hadn't read since high school. I watched the extended version of the films after I finished each volume as a reward along the way. I really ought to read more.

For some reason, the film makers decided to stray from the book's ending and just had the hobbits return to a Shire that was exactly the same as when they had left. In the novel, however, the hobbits had to chase off a large group of ruffians that had taken over all the hobbit lands. The villains had done quite a bit of damage, cutting down trees, clearing out the hill holes and erecting poorly made wooden structures instead. I can see the merit to both of these endings, though.

The film ending made the point that sometimes things never change--the people we fight for, the regular citizens never realize how close they have come to doom and destruction. In a way this makes returning heroes feel taken for granted. It also makes the entire adventure less real, as if it were all a dream and never really happened if there is no evidence back home of the adventures' travels. 

On the other hand, the book's ending of having the hobbits be heroes to their own people showed how much they had truly changed, how the battles they fought affected even those at home. The returning hobbits were equipped to handle the stress of defending their homelands, and everyone was able to appreciate that change. It proved to the whole hobbit population that they could defend themselves when necessary. Any culture, real or fictional, needs to have that heritage to look back on in times of trouble.

I also wonder if Frodo really needed to leave the Shire in the end and go off with the elves. Was the damage he sustained on his quest truly that terrible, hurt that no mortal love could heal? Sam went through as much as Frodo; perhaps his hurts were indeed different from Frodo's and could be healed through family and time. Are there soldiers like that too? War veterans who are so damaged they cannot stay home and must flee to some other land? I do not know any war veterans, or at least I have not heard them speak of their pain. 

I know there is some damage that only the Lord can cure, injuries that only an immortal, perfect being knows how to cure. But does that cure only come in the next life for these people, scarred by circumstance and the evil in the world? We all die imperfect beings, so in a sense, we all have to leave this world before we are completely cured. So I guess the answer is yes, the ultimate cure for our woes will only happen after we die, even if our woe is as minimal as missing the ones who have died before us and we are otherwise as perfect as we can get in this life.

Something else I find myself pondering is what would have happened if (spoiler alert to those who have never read the books or seen the movies!) Gollum hadn't been there to bite off Frodo's finger with the Ring at the end. Was the Ring's possession of that Gollum creature its own undoing, since the Ring was considered sentient and able to manipulate its victims? Or would Sam have fought with Frodo and thrown the Ring in the lava? Everyone admits that Sam was critical in getting Frodo to Mount Doom; I almost think Sam could have made the entire journey himself.

My favorite character has to be Sam (he was Frodo's companion on the quest to destroy the One Ring). There is one particular scene near the end of the journey that I must quote here, since Tolkien put it so well:

"But even as hope died in Sam, or seemed to die, it was turned to a new strength. Sam's plain hobbit-face grew stern, almost grim, as the will hardened in him, and he felt through all his limbs a thrill, as if he was turning into some creature of stone and steel that neither despair nor weariness nor endless barren miles could subdue" (p. 234 "The Return of the King).


I often feel like Sam, in my current stage of life. A long, seemingly pointless journey, with little hope and ailing companions. But I have also felt moments of strength, an incredible, unyielding power because of everything I have had to deal with in my life. Those days are a victory.

Be Mine

This time of year, with red and pink heart-themed decorations adorning grocery stores, doctors' offices and private residences, many thoughts turn to love. Everyone seems to know that Valentine's Day is a big conspiracy, a holiday contrived by card and candy making companies to fill the gap between Christmas and Easter, yet consumers continue spending millions of dollars on February 14 every year. I think it's because we all want to believe in love, even the most badly "burned" victims. I think it's nice to focus on love and romance, particularly in a world so full of hate and disillusionment.

Growing up, I remember getting excited about choosing which Valentine cards I would hand out at school. For weeks before the big red day we would construct all sorts of heart-shaped crafts, among which would be a box for collecting each others' cards. In elementary school it was all about the glittery cards, ones that came with stickers or, better yet, the ones that came with candy. We could care less what was actually written on the cards; boys and girls still had cooties then.

It wasn't until junior high that I started paying attention to what my Valentine cards said. It was also the first year I received chocolate from a boy. His name was Andy and he played in the band with me. He loved Monty Python and was the first boy to hold my hand. I got him a red model car for his birthday and he threw me up into a fireman's carry, just to show me that he could. My gift for Valentine's Day: a See's Candies cardboard treasure chest, filled with gold foil-wrapped chocolate coins. It was probably one of the best Valentine's Days I have ever had.

In high school, Valentine's Day became much less fun, mostly during the years that the boys I had a crush on didn't know I existed or had girlfriends of their own. It was when I first started experiencing the darker side of "V-Day." Lots of time spent resenting all males on the planet, lots of chocolate eaten and romantic comedies, either bitterly ignored or tearfully endured. Yet I still look forward to this holiday every year. I look fabulous in red.


One year in college, my barbershop quartet decided to post an ad for singing telegrams. We would sing "Orange Colored Sky" or our theme song "Telling It To The Daisies" and present a single red rose to the selected person. (There was a very near disaster involving the roses and I had to use some roses from the bouquet my dad had sent me instead.) We had matching red shirts with shiny threads sewn in and we wore black slacks to complete the outfit. 

I think we charged $25 for our services, but only two people wanted us, and after the cost of our shirts, the roses and gas to drive to our gigs, we only made about five bucks each in the end. It was so much fun though! One wife had us come to her home and sing to her husband--he was flustered and it was so cute. I would do it again in a heartbeat.

Years ago my family started the simple tradition of writing "I love you because" Valentines for each other. I think my mom started it as a means of getting me and my sister to stop fighting so much, but it was nice to read those positive messages. Even the prophet instructed us in a recent General Conference address that families need to say "I love you" more often to each other. It's not enough to imply those feelings.

One card in particular from my dad stands out in my memory. It was the first Valentine's after I announced I was in love and unofficially engaged to the man who is now my husband. The card had some typical cute message printed inside, and underneath it my dad had written: "From your first love!" It was very sweet--a dad acknowledging that he would soon be giving away his little girl to some strange guy :p

I still enjoy Valentine's Day, despite the few bad and lonely years. I'm a romantic, and I believe in love even during those times I do not have it for myself. And the pinks and reds sure do liven up the dreary, wintry places in the world.

Research

I love discovering new things, making connections between old bits of information and new. I once took a class on library sciences, which included learning the Dewey decimal system and a unit on internet research. I've been using the internet for various classwork since I was in junior high, so most searching is pretty intuitive for me, but this class helped me realize you can find any answer online. What's nearly impossible to pinpoint is whether or not that answer is true.

At any rate, I was writing a movie review for next Monday (spoiler alert: it's "The Scarlet Pimpernel") and I started doing a little research. For a serious research paper I would go to the library for much more reliable resources, but for my movie review purposes, I rely mostly on the Internet Movie Database, or IMDb. 

As far as I know, this website is perfectly reputable, I just have never bothered to find out for sure--that is a project requiring a lot more time than I really want to invest right now. This is just an example of how easy it is to take someone's word for it. A website may look big and official, but it needs to have endorsements from other companies you've heard of, or at least for the facts to match up with what a few other sources have to say. It also helps if someone you trust offers up a recommendation for said website (even if it's another big website).

When writing my movie reviews, I like to include the director of the film and a few key actors, mentioning noteworthy prior roles as well. While researching "The Scarlet Pimpernel," I decided to investigate if it was an original screenplay or one based off a book (I'm really not a very well-read English major). I typed in the title at the Amazon website and a book popped up in the search results. That meant the movie was based off a book and not written specifically as a film. Then I noticed the author and looked her up on Wikipedia: Baroness Emma Orczy.

It is assumed that Wikipedia is a trusted source of information for the general public (again, if this were a serious scholarly paper I would find actual books written about the Baroness to confirm the facts), so I perused the article. It turns out that Baroness Orczy was born in Hungary in 1865 and wrote "The Scarlet Pimpernel" in 1903. She started writing as a means to supplement her husband's meager income and gained much success with her character Sir Percy Blakeney (who is secretly the Scarlet Pimpernel). The article also mentioned that her family left Hungary in fear of a peasant revolution--a theme that seems to have influenced her Pimpernel play. Very interesting.


I also decided to look up the scarlet pimpernel on Wikipedia, since it is a flower and I wanted to know what it looks like. It turns out that I am already familiar with anagallis arvensis, a.k.a. red chickweed or "poorman's barometer." I used to pick these little flowers in my yard all the time as a child, or in the fields at my elementary school during recess! They are really quite small flowers, and most consider them weeds. But I remember adding them to the tiny bouquets I would make, pretending I was a giant or something. Something else I learned about this miniscule flower: it's called a "barometer" because the petals close up when there is a change in atmospheric pressure (remember, that usually indicates rain is on the way). I love learning new things!

I could have also spent some time researching the French Revolution, since the story is an historical fiction based around that war. My husband summed it up as a big waste of time and lots of unnecessary death, as all it did was remove one set of aristocrats and replace them with new ones. Every society is going to have a rich upper class; killing them all will only make room for someone else to fill that role. A better idea is to help rich people keep their sympathies open to those less fortunate and figure out ways to help the poor help themselves. But it's all history now.


Anyway, it was a fascinating way to spend the afternoon. Go research something today!

Movie Review Monday: Eclipse

WELCOME TO POST NUMBER 50!!!! And for a special treat, I will post the Monday movie review on an ACTUAL MONDAY! :D Thanks to all my avid readers; I love how this blog has put me back in the writing saddle. I'd probably still write this even without readers, but it's kind of nice to know there are some people out there who actually care what I have to say.

The Twilight Saga: Eclipse

Rating: PG-13

Runtime: 124 minutes

Release Date: Summer 2010

Summit Entertainment has another hit on its hands with the latest installment of the Twilight Saga films, “Eclipse.” Kristen Stewart and Robert Pattinson continue to develop the passion between Bella Swan and Edward Cullen. But Taylor Lautner as Jacob Black (who has about half a dozen shirtless scenes) holds equal sway over Bella’s heart.

The movie opens on a dark and stormy night. Through David Slade’s brand of nonstop motion cinematography, (director of “30 Days of Night,” 2007), viewers see a young man stalked and thrown against rain-slicked pavement in a deserted part of Seattle. Another flash of movement and he is left writhing on the ground, guttural screams piercing the black night as he grips his bleeding, bitten hand.

Initially unaware of the events unfolding in Seattle, Edward asks for Bella’s hand in marriage once again, but Bella pushes for her transformation to vampire form instead. Edward agrees to change Bella if she agrees to marry him, and Bella seems willing, but this momentary peace does not last.

Jacob confronts Edward in front of Bella—there was a vampire sighting, in which a Cullen crossed into the Quileute tribe’s area. Bella immediately realizes the vampire they saw is Victoria, come to seek her revenge. To better protect Bella, Edward and Jacob must work together. Jacob takes advantage of this shared custody and works on convincing Bella to stay human, to stay with him.

A wave of vandalism and missing persons add to the stress between the werewolves and vampires. Tribe and clan do not know who is behind the attacks. It could be a brand new enemy, come to drive the Cullens out of their territory, or perhaps even the Volturi, the vampire version of royalty, coming to see if Bella has kept her promise to become one of them.

There are two notable newcomers to the film series. Bryce Dallas (Gwen Stacy in “Spider-Man 3,” 2007), replaces Rachelle Lefevre as Victoria. Viewers might find this Victoria a little less intimidating than the one played by Lefevre, as Dallas’ stage presence is somewhat lacking.

Xavier Samuel, an aspiring Australian actor, plays Riley, the “newborn” vampire transformed in the film’s opening scene. Tom Felton and Channing Tatum were also considered for the role, according to the Internet Movie Database. Samuel is a better choice, however, since Felton is too well known as Draco Malfoy in the Harry Potter films and Tatum is too masculine to correctly portray Riley’s vulnerabilities.

Despite having a different director for each movie, Meyer’s involvement has helped preserve continuity among the films. The music suits the original “indie film” feel of Summit Entertainment, although the production company is quickly rising in the public’s awareness, and the special effects for the fight scenes between werewolf and vampire do not disappoint.

So for those moviegoers at all interested in romance, action, or fantasy, this is definitely a blockbuster to see soon. For the moviegoers who were fans from the beginning, “Eclipse” holds up to all expectations and will leave viewers asking, “When does ‘Breaking Dawn’ come out?”

Musicals--Fun to Watch AND Be In!

I have loved music and performing music for as long as I can remember. Once in high school I continued to play sax but I also joined the choir. This put me in an interesting position, as both my band and choir teachers needed me--I was the section leader and strongest player/singer for my groups, alto sax and alto vocals. During my high school career, I participated in "Oklahoma," "Peter Pan," "The Music Man," and "The Sound of Music," as well as the band and choir music tours.

"Oklahoma" was during my freshman year; I hadn't joined choir yet so I only played saxophone in the pit orchestra. It was amazing to watch these juniors and seniors playing the characters so well. At the time I hadn't been kissed yet, so I often wondered what it was like for the actors during their kissing scenes. Was it just Curly and Laurey kissing, (the characters) or really Greg and Heather (the actors)? Plus the songs were just a lot of fun to learn and play. With all the rehearsals, you get to know your part really well, and then it's about more than just hitting the right notes--then you can really get into the music and express merriment.


"Peter Pan" was a lot of fun--I had a small role and even a couple lines, as Liza the maid. I remember being coached with the leads, since every speaker had to sound British. "Over and under, over and under the ball kept on bouncing!" our coach would repeat, undulating her hand over invisible hills to show where we should put the inflections. The drama department opted for one of those "flying" rigs, and one Saturday the entire cast and crew was allowed a few minutes of flight time (with parental consent forms/waivers in hand).


"The Sound of Music" actually took place on a different campus--my choir teacher's husband also taught choir and they decided to team up for an amazing production. Tryouts were grueling--I have rhythm but not much dance experience, and part of the tryouts included learning a brand new dance routine. Some of the music was in Latin--beautiful stuff, but a different language is a different language. In the end I was cast as one of the nuns, and then I designed the shirts and program cover :)


"The Music Man" was probably my favorite production. That was the one year I was on stage AND in the pit orchestra--the choir director and band leader could not do without me! Talk about an ego boost. Luckily I didn't have to do too much running back and forth. The most critical choral numbers were in the first act, and the most critical orchestra numbers were in the second act. The "Pick A Little, Talk A Little" song was a very challenging tongue-twister to master, but very fun to perform; for "Shipoopi" I learned to play the soprano sax, wailing away on it like there was no tomorrow! 


I never did land a lead role in any of these productions, but I was perfectly satisfied playing the parts I was assigned. I saw all the work the leads put in to learning all their lines, their blocking and dance routines. While I believe myself perfectly capable of handling all that memorization and performance pressure, I had plenty of other stuff to do in my life. School and church were important to me, too, and I never wanted to focus so completely on one aspect of my life that I would be forced to give up something else. It was fun just to be a part of all the magic, to get to know new people, to learn new music and perform for an audience. Not to mention the fun of making fart noises backstage with my hands, with all the other actors trying not to laugh out loud. Good times, good times...


One other aspect of my musical career included band and choir tours. It just so happened that there was another instance when my band and choir teachers simultaneously needed me desperately. My amazing parents made it possible for me to do both tours that year. They drove down to the L.A. area, shuttling me and two other band/choir mates to and from band and choir events. The band performed in Disneyland, and the choir sang "Pilgrim's Hymn" inside the Santa Barbara mission. 


(One word: Wow. Eight-part acapella harmony echoing off vaulted stone ceilings--let's just say some very skeptical choir members had quite a spiritual experience that day. There is absolutely nothing like being in perfect harmony with a group of people, with overtones ringing just right when those sound waves match up completely.)


I sure had some incredible musical experiences in my high school career. Maybe next week I'll talk about my collegiate career in music. (Two words: barbershop quartet!) 

College

There are some life decisions we never remember consciously making, whether it's avoiding bananas or attending college. Other people never choose to drive any kind of car but the type their parents owned, and others never realize when they decided to hate paisley. There was never any doubt in my mind that I would attend college after high school, yet I do not remember ever actually making the decision to go.

I have always had good grades in school--As and Bs, with one C in a high school chemistry class. I also always assumed I would attend a church college, most likely BYU Provo. It wasn't until the time to put my applications out that I had even heard of a BYU-Idaho, so on a whim I decided to apply there as well. Those were the only two places I applied. I didn't even consider going for somewhere more prestigious like Harvard, Yale or Brown. If I had, I would have had to do a lot more planning and done even better on my ACTs.

I was seventeen when I graduated high school--my mother cursed her lack of foresight, realizing our big decision to skip me a grade ahead in grammar school would in the end rob her of an extra year with me at home. This also meant I was a freshman in college at the young age of seventeen, without a driver license, even. (It actually is "driver" singular--we say "driver's license," but that is not its correct title.) I didn't get my license until I was 19. I still think it's ridiculous you don't have to take driver's ed if you're over 18, especially if you're not native to this country.

I was accepted to every place I applied--with one catch. If I went to Provo, I would have to start in the summer, only a month away from my high school graduation. If I went to Rexburg, Idaho (I had to look it up on a map), I could start in the fall. That same summer I had tried out for the Oakland Temple Pageant, a wonderful production about the early Saints and Joseph Smith, and one of the last live plays of the church. I was selected to be part of the "Stage Chorus," a group of about 30 singers who performed several key numbers. Over a hundred saints in the area tried out for this elite group; I loved this production and wanted very much to be a part of it. That is what made my decision. I have lived with the consequences ever since.

Temple Pageant was an amazing experience--singing about principles and values dear to my heart and central to my testimony, making friends, being part of something bigger than myself-- and I would not trade that experience for anything. So off to Idaho I went. I have already endorsed a young person's experiences away from home--coming back after that semester was the first time I saw my home town in a new light. 

There were a few challenges in college, but nothing monumental. I am an excellent classical student--lectures, textbook studies, note-taking and studying are all very familiar tools in my arsenal for conquering new material. I typically earned all As and one B per semester, nothing less, finally getting straight As in my last semester. I started working while in school, and I handled that just fine as well. I made friends, dated young men, (22 first dates! My dad wanted us to go on at least 50 :), got my heart broken and maybe even broke a heart or two myself. 

I chose my major once, English, professional writing emphasis, and stuck with it all four years and dropped only one class my entire academic career (Dance 102, and that was only because I was stuck dancing with the female TA--sorry, but I took that class to dance with boys!). I designed my own minor--two clusters, one in communications and one in creative writing--and I even managed to go on a British Literary Tour. I graduated with only a couple grand in debt (the tour), and I also met my future husband.

But I do wonder how differently my life would have turned out had I chosen to skip Temple Pageant and go to Provo instead. Most likely I would have married a different man, made different friends, perhaps had different work opportunities, but I probably would have graduated with the same major. Maybe I wouldn't be married now, just still looking. Perhaps I would have ended up living with my sister, since she was in Provo for many years working and going to school. I do know I was planning to get a Masters degree next. UC Davis was particularly appealing--close to home, but not too close, with a great literature program and a decent LDS population.

I still want that Masters degree. And now I'm thinking I might even want it from a noteworthy school. I'm not sure that really matters in the end, though--to me, a degree is a degree, and it shouldn't matter whether you get it from some state college or Princeton. If you want a quality education, you will get it no matter what school you attend. Still, it might be nice :)

Movie Review Mondays: SALT

Okay, I know it's not Monday, but I still want to get one movie review in here per week. This is another review I wrote for the Tri-City Voice last summer, and I am posting it here with their permission. Enjoy!

“SALT” Movie Review

Rating: PG-13

Run Time: 100 minutes

Release Date: Summer 2010

A compelling combination of action and mystery, Phillip Noyce (“Catch a Fire” 2006) directs “Salt,” starring Angelina Jolie as Evelyn Salt. This is the Australian-born director’s second film with Jolie. The other is “The Bone Collector,” (1999). Noyce is a self-made director, known for his docu-dramas and “political thrillers,” according to the Internet Movie Database. “Salt” is definitely a thriller.

Viewers first see Evelyn Salt stripped to her underwear, bleeding, chained to the floor in a dirty, dark room, surrounded by North Korean soldiers. Salt chants over and over, “I am not a spy, I am not a spy,” and audiences collectively cringe as gasoline is forced down her throat. Luckily, Salt is soon traded back into U.S. custody, with fellow CIA agent Ted Winter, played by Liev Schreiber (“The Sum of All Fears,” 2002) waiting for her.

Everything appears to go back to normal, and just as Salt is leaving work, a Russian defector arrives. The traitor Orlov, played by Daniel Olbrychski, (a European TV and movie actor) spins a tale for Salt, a twisted plot to take over the world using brainwashed children. These children are planted in American families, poised to cause maximum damage when the time is right. Salt scoffs at the story and moves to leave, but then the old man condemns Salt as the Russian spy who will kill the Russian President during his visit to the Capitol.

Jolie’s portrayal of Evelyn Salt is certainly intimidating—she pulls off incredible stunts in every action sequence—but despite her outward beauty, Salt’s character is heartless at times. Perhaps that is Noyce’s intent, to show how politics and power can corrupt and canker anything beautiful. Salt has a husband in the film, but it does little to endear her to audience members. When any character spends all their time killing and lying, it makes whatever “good” they manage to do practically meaningless.

Other key characters in this film include Chiwetel Ejiofor (“2012,” Adrian Helmsley, 2009) as Peabody, Salt’s boss. Peabody immediately takes Orlov’s accusation seriously and attempts to pin Salt down for questioning, making him the misled good guy in the film. Ejiofor plays his part well, and moviegoers will enjoy cheering on Salt as she continues to evade Peabody.

Low lighting, unsteady camera angles and grainy security camera shots add to the ambience, giving audience members a good feel for what it’s like chasing someone down. The musical score fits well, speeding up during chase scenes and intensifying the quiet, about-to-blow moments in the movie. There was nothing spectacular or out of the ordinary about it, but it fit just fine.

Those in the mood for an action-packed mystery with plenty of twists and turns will enjoy seeing “Salt” this summer. For those in the mood for something heartwarming and fulfilling, however, this is not the movie for them. Anyone who is not a diehard Angelina Jolie or action movie fan would do better to wait for this film to come out on DVD to rent rather than see it on the silver screen.

Stickers

There are two types of stickers in this world: the bright, colorful cutouts with adhesive on the back, and the thorny weed seeds that stick to your clothes or pet's fur. (Interesting side note: burs inspired the creation of velcro, the material we use to fasten our laceless shoes and play catch.) I can't remember a time I didn't have a stash of shiny, glittery stickers in my possession.

Stickers are one of the best non-food items for occupying children of nearly all ages. Usually it's best to wait until your kid is at least two years old before you let him start playing with stickers, or most of them will end up in his mouth. Even at this young age I advise close supervision. Yet they are one of the few things to keep my toddler quiet during church, and many parents use stickers as a means of reward for children. If the child goes potty in the toilet, they get a sticker. If the child practices their piano lesson, they get a sticker.

In a sense, this sticker reward system continues into adulthood. If you have a clean driving record and pay a small fee, you get a sticker for your license plate that means your car is registered and legal. And stickers are a convenient way for many colleges to sell their campus parking permits. Okay, those two are a stretch--not really a reward when you have to pay for it. But there are plenty of adult stickers out there.

Many products for adults like phones and computers include a sticker with their logo on it in the packaging. These stickers often end up on snowboards, car windows or laptops. Bumper stickers are a means of expressing one's ideals in short quips, and car window stickers can show off one's favorite restaurants or one's taste in music. Sure, they're [usually] not as glittery as a young child's sticker collection, but they're still fun. A lot of those "adult" stickers are free, and since very few adults say "no" to anything free, their cars just turned into mobile advertisements.

Other types of adult stickers include all those seen at craft and scrapbooking stores. In this sense, we never really grow out of enjoying stickers. Stickers have even advanced to the point of encompassing three dimensions, with the latest technology being used to cut them. I've toured the Mrs. Grossman's sticker factory a few times, and it's where I learned they were among the first sticker manufacturers to use lasers to cut stickers. This has allowed for some fairly elaborate sticker designs to surface. 

(Mrs. Grossman's is also one of the few sticker companies that does not sell their stickers with that extra, unusable sticker paper. You know, the excess "negative space" left over when you're done peeling out the actual sticker? Sure, it's environmentally friendly to save on paper, but it's economically friendly, too. They recycle that excess right in their factory, using it for additional stickers. Very smart.)


I remember when we had to lick a stamp to get it to stick to an envelope. Anyone stuffing envelopes would have to get a damp sponge going before too long. I don't know why someone didn't think of turning stamps into stickers sooner! It makes a lot of sense! Certainly less germ exposure for postal workers, and now fewer tongue paper cuts since envelope manufacturers have followed suit.

Anyway, sorry if today's post is a bit boring. Guess I'm just not feeling it tonight!