Miss Representation

Over the weekend I stumbled upon a documentary that I think touches on a really important subject and I hope will inspire people to seek change.

The film is called Miss Representation and documents the sexualization of women in the media and how it affects our society and how it has changed the way girls view themselves. It showed staggering statistics and highlighted things that most of us probably think about in passing, but have generally accepted it as "just the way things are."

One of the things that hit me was the section it did on the past election with both Hillary Clinton and Sarah Palin in the mix, and how the media focused more on what they were wearing and less on their actual politics. I wasn't a huge supporter of either woman, but listening to the way they were referred to in the media made me angry.

(SOUNDBITE OF DOCUMENTARY, "MISS REPRESENTATION")

BILL O'REILLY: Both you and Sarah Palin are good-looking women. I mean, you're attractive, young - relatively young - women.

MICHAEL SAVAGE: Kagan he's going to put on the U.S. Supreme Court? Isn't there such a thing about the aesthetics of the appointee? Let's put it to you this way, she's not the type of face you'd want to see on a five-dollar bill.

RUSH LIMBAUGH: I think I'm going to send Sotomayor and her club a bunch of vacuum cleaners to help them clean up after their meetings.

UNIDENTIFIED MAN #1: Cynthia McKinney, the former congresswoman from Georgia, was another angry black woman.

LEE RODGERS: Look at these ugly skanks who make up the female leadership of the Democratic Party.

UNIDENTIFIED MAN #2: You know that ugly hag Madeleine Albright? Remember her?

Hags? Skanks? Really? How is this acceptable? One of the other points from the film talked about how in the media, when a women politician speaks out about a policy they are said to "complain" about it, but if their male counterpart said the same thing, they would have "stated" it.

The film talked about how in the 20s, 30s and 40s, women in films were often well-rounded, complex characters that played multiple roles within the movie. Now, we have the bimbo, the ho and the accomplished proud women that is seen more as a b*tch that needs to be taken down a peg (think The Proposal).

The more I watched the documentary, the more I realized that people need to be educated on this very topic. The documentary was shown on the OWN network on television, and there are scheduled screenings throughout the country. To my friends in Utah, December 1, in Ogden is our showing. I encourage anybody and everybody to watch it.

Start:	December 1, 2011 7:00 pm
End:	December 1, 2011 9:00 pm
Venue:	Ogden Weber Chamber Auditorium
Address:	2484 Washington Blvd, Ogden, 84401, United States
Cost:	Free

NPR interviewed the writer and director of Miss Representation, Jennifer Siebel Newsom. You can find the transcript here. Also, take a minute to check out the website, www.missrepresentation.org and their facebook page, https://www.facebook.com/MissRepresentationCampaign.



Remember, "You can't be what you can't see."

Pizza Pirates

Last night I worked late, and so I decided to order a pizza that would hopefully arrive around the same time I did. I knew on Friday night, it might be too much to hope, so I happily waited for the estimated 45 minutes to pass, and then started getting annoyed. So I called, and while I was on the phone, I received a text. I waited to hang up with Papa Johns, who brushed me off, rather rudely, "Oh yes, it will be there soon. Ok? Bye."

I checked my message to find the following from an unknown number:

Shelli...you are eating our pizza...yours is sketchy..Hawaiian with green peppers...

It only took me a second to realize that whoever this person was, thought I was enjoying their pizza whilst they were being forced to enjoy mine (it was BBQ chicken with green peppers). So I replied.

Sounds delicious...Only I haven't gotten mine! You pizza pirate! How did you end up with mine?

Yes we did. Weird choice in toppings. :)

Delicious though. I try to have something green in all my meals...even pizza. And I'm starting, so I'm kind of upset that my pizza is where ever you are...and not here!

We texted back and forth until both of us had our pizzas. Mine had been remade and finally delivered. The delivery girl refused to take any sort of responsibility for having delivered my original pizza to the wrong place, even though I told her that the people she delivered to had texted me and told me what happened.

I was upset that I had to wait for over an hour for my pizza. I was upset that they didn't replace the pizza sauce to my breadsticks with another garlic sauce, as I had requested. I was curious as to why they didn't have me sign a slip, like they usually do when you put the pizza on a card. And I was ticked that I had added my tip on before the delivery girl even got there.

I felt bad to the pizza pirates, who texted and said that when they finally received their order, it was cold.

What concerns me most is that I have a pending transaction on my bank account for TWO orders. And when I called to get that cleared up, the manager was sort of an idiot. I don't know if he was listening, but he was like, "Did you get your pizza and your breadsticks?"

Yes. But that isn't the issue. I just don't want to be charged twice!

So, hopefully, only one transaction will go through, and not both of them. And you can bet that I'm probably done with the Provo Papa Johns.

Chicken Chicken

I didn't do anything, really, that I was planning to do today.

I was going to wake up early and get to work on time. I put set my alarm clock close to my head and turned the volume up really loud, and checked and double checked the volume, station and location to make sure that nothing would foil my plans.

Turns out, the closer the alarm is to you, the closer the snooze button is.

I did go to lunch with the FTC. We tried a new restaurant in Orem. I was going to order the honey shrimp salad and like it. Instead, I got the seafood tacos and was super disappointed. Milagros is not a restaurant I would recommend. They claim to be Mexican, but there is nothing really Mexican about the food. It is baja at best, and just gross at worst. The salsa is "meh" and they are really, really expensive for a lunch.

I was going to clean my room (Yes, I did put it off from yesterday when I also said I was going to clean... I got half my room cleaned yesterday and gave up because I had an FHE meeting).

I was going to get my oil changed in my car.

I was going to take plans/specs to FedEx to be mailed.

I did take the stamp that I ruined last week to be replaced. And I did, eventually, finish the proposal I have been sort of working on all week long.

But I was also going to pack for my trip to Idaho this weekend. Stop by the library and get a book on tape.

But I didn't do any of that. I did experience what Wes calls "Chicken Chicken". Or, what I just call, being slap-happy or drunken tiredness. You know the feeling when you are so tired/exhausted that everything is funny, you can't process file folders on the computer or think rationally... Or, for example, you are dumbfounded by your coworker when he hands you the jump drive to save a file on it and you stare at the keychain, confused as to how and where the USB port actually is.

For the record, the USB connect is not on the keychain at all, it is the jump drive attached to the keychain and dangling by your hand.

I wonder if the cover we designed will look as good in the morning as we thought it did at 11:30 p.m. tonight? I hope so. I hope that I gave grumpy-guy the right directions on how to put the proposals together. I don't think I was too Chicken Chicken to have messed it up - but, I was really thrown off by how negative and mean the guy was being to me when I dropped it off!

Yes, it is almost midnight! Yes, I want these to be done before I wake up in the morning! And NO! I don't care if you have a hundred other projects going on. Why does he have to be so negative about it? I know that he can get it done in time. Why doesn't he think he can? I really, really hope that they don't mess it up.

Why don't people understand that they cater to my whims?

Anyway, it is late now and I am feeling a little wired. Something about the cold night air woke me up. I wish they had a 24-hour oil changing place...

Someone remind me that I have stamps at Staples to pick up in the morning... as well as the proposals at Kinkos, hopefully.

Delicious

Thaifoon has long been one of my favorite restaurants in Utah. My first visit was a business dinner when I worked at Novell. I got the Pad Thai, as it is almost always a safe choice, and tried some of the different appetizers and they were all really good. And that's what I have stuck with the few other times I've gone. I really like the atmosphere. It's dark and there is a water wall and cloth napkins... the music left a little something to be desired.

Last night, William and I went up to Thaifoon to celebrate his birthday and I decided to branch out. William ordered the Bankgkok Duck and I had the Mahi Mahi. Our server (who was fantastic) was kind enough to point out that the "crusted" part of the Mahi Mahi meant that it was fried, and I opted out of that. We had edamame for an appetizer.

Best. Dinner. Ever.

Everything was really good, but the Mahi Mahi was particularly delicious. The rice was so good and complimented the fish and I loved the little kick that the citrus-chili sauce had. I think I could eat it everyday.

It was our first experience with duck, which tasted pretty good but was a little too fatty for me. The duck salad was really yummy, though.

Because it was William's birthday, we also got a free dessert, and he chose what I think was probably the best choice on the menu. The Banana Caramel Spring Roll.... it was a perfect blend of flavors and texture. I didn't like the vanilla bean ice cream, but William ate that. And the rest of it was soooooo good. William even ate the mint leaf.

After dinner, I was stuffed. So we walked around Gateway and watched The Switch. I was expecting it to be like Big Daddy - read: funny - but it wasn't at all what I expected. I still haven't decided if I liked it. Though, I can probably say that I won't ever watch it again. The little boy in the movie was super adorable, though.

Overall, a top night. Happy Birthday, William.

Mmmm.... I'm eating the leftover edamame right now, wishing I had saved some Mahi Mahi for today's lunch.

Labor Day Weekend

Labor Day marks the end of summer. School has often started, the nights are beginning to cool down and the pools close. It's depressing, but we celebrate it anyway by getting the day off work...which is totally rad.

I can't really account for the last few Labor Day weekends, though I suspect a few of them have been spent in Boise with my Uncle Allen and his family. Usually I waste the day sleeping, but this weekend was different - it felt longer. I accomplished much.

Saturday I woke up and watched Slumdog Millionaire at the BYU International Cinema. If you haven't seen it: go now. It is sooooo good, and totally worth all the hype that it received. BYU edited the film for us because it is rated R, but it is my understanding that the rating comes from thematic elements and not actual from bad content, language, etc. I recommend it x1000. From what I can tell, even BYU had very little to cut out. Go. See it. I can't believe I've only just now watched it.

Thank you, Facebook! I noticed that Holly was in town, so I made a point to snatch her and take her to the concert with me. It was great to see her!

Kira's dad works for Thanksgiving Point and got us the tickets. This is her adorable son, Owen. Thank you for the fun evening!

After the movie, I decided to take pity upon my poor car and take her to the Car Wash. I vacuumed the inside and scrubbed the outside. I'm afraid to look up how much I actually spent detailing my car, but I do have to admit, it was worth it - she looks so clean. I finished emptying out some of the things that I've been driving around with since my move and then I came home and baked a carrot cake to take up to Holladay for a BBQ with my cousins. That didn't really work out as planned, but I got to say hi to everyone, grab some food and run to Thanksgiving Point to see John Schmidt in concert with Kira and Holly. I've never actually been into Thanksgiving Point, and it is awesome! The stars were out in full force and the gardens are beautiful. I'm looking forward to going back when I have a little more time to explore.

Can I just say, I don't remember 9 a.m. church being so hard to get to...

Today I woke up to the smell of French toast and bacon. My roommates hosted a big breakfast for a lot of their friends. William -- HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WILLIAM -- came to represent the small numbers of my remaining posse. Our house still smells like bacon. After everyone left, I got some things together and headed up to South Jordan for a BBQ at Reuben and Kira's. This is where the real adventures began.

Owen in full agreement of the BBQ.

Reuben decided that we needed a grill for our meat, and that makes sense - it is Labor Day after all, and that typically comes with a BBQ of sorts.

The original plan was to grill up some meat, enjoy some water melon and head to the lake at Daybreak for a little kayaking/sailing. Reuben came home with a $16 grill and got the charcoal lit up. Bryce soon arrived to supervise the whole ordeal.

Of course, under Bryce's supervision, he managed to singe his arm hairs and burn his finger... but we won't judge him. Both Bryce and Reuben are pretty avid campers, and I usually trust them with fire -- if not a grill.

I think that we just didn't let the coals get hot enough before we tried to cook the meat. We were, after all, in a hurry to get to the lake before they closed for our water activities. But the fire kept going out, and the meat was cooking weirdly. In fact, it was more like we were smoking the steaks, hamburger and chicken. The chicken was turning a green, slimy color.... After much debate, we took the meat back inside to cook.

That was only after Reuben dropped the grill on the porch, causing much laughter between Kira and me... It was as if he didn't know there was a screen door. Like when you walk into a door because the glass is so clean...anyway...

We cooked the meat inside to make sure we wouldn't get food poisoning from eating undercooked meat.

One bite, and we were more concerned about getting cancer from the lighter fluid we were eating.

Owen is grossed out by the green, slimy chicken and lighter fluid.

So we gave up on the whole idea, deciding that none of us were quite ready for the grilling championships. I felt like a BBQ was such a grown up thing to be doing on Labor Day and I felt so sophisticated. But I think I love that this happened more. It was definitely entertaining.

The guys went down to the lake for a little sailing. And Kira and I played with this little guy.

And for dinner, we settled for the delicious, American favorite: In-N-Out.

Over all, it was a great weekend. But I'm definitely going to throw out there that we need some grilling lessons before our next BBQ.

The Road

"The Road is the most depressing book you'll ever read."
"There were parts that made me want to gouge my eyes out."
"You'll never get through it."
"Best book I've read in a while, but Shelli, YOU'LL NEVER, get through it/like it/be able to read it."

The great reviews listed above are the reasons I secretly committed to reading The Road by Cormac McCarthy. The cute guy down the street was the reason I actually borrowed it from someone and started to read it. The unadulterated shock that came from some, Joe telling me to, "stop now before you commit a blasphemy against McCarthy" kept me going.

In the end, I just really liked the book.

It doesn't seem like a book that I would like. I guess I can see why people were shocked. The fact that it didn't have chapters and quotation marks really bothered me at first. But when I looked past that, and saw the brilliance in McCarthy's writing, I began to really enjoy the rhythm of the conversations between father and son.

The HEA isn't as obvious to some as it is for an idealist, romantic like me. But it's there. And I think that is the best thing about the way McCarthy wrote the book. Because under all the depressing, post apocalyptic wasteland that really is savage and heartbreaking, there is this hope and push to survival and in the end, a perfect ending.

*spoilers*

"But the dad dies!" Meghan said as she shook her head. She still can't understand how or why I like this book when I can't get through Henry James (I still haven't completely... OK, I've sort of given up on him, but I have a book that maybe when I'm desperate enough....not the point). And yes, the dad dies. But, that's foreshadowed throughout the whole book. I mean, for heaven's sakes! he's coughing up bloody phlegm the whole time - of course he dies! But he doesn't die in a really tragic way. He's shot by an arrow, which no doubt aided to his death, but he was sick anyway and starving and exhausting himself by never really sleeping and then pushing himself too hard and trying to sacrifice everything for his son.

I really loved the son, because even when his dad tried to give him more food, he always insisted that his dad partake too. He wouldn't let his dad kill himself for him.

In the end, it was inevitable. And in the end, he left his son in the perfect position to be discovered by the good guys who happened to have two children around his age. And considering that throughout the whole book, the boy is worried about other children being around, I think it shows that there is promise for a new generation. Not everyone was eating their babies in order to survive. The boy instantly has a new best friend and further down the road, a potential love interest. And, the last paragraph is talking about trout. If that isn't promise for the future, then I don't know what is. Or at least, that's how I interpreted it.

Really, after the "most depressing book you've ever read" it's great to read a paragraph of complete optimism and hope. But I don't think it was the most depressing book I've ever read.

I would and do recommend this to anyone to read. (Maybe not children, it might give them nightmares.)

Journal Writing

I am an advocate of journal writing, which is one of the reason I have a blog. Blogging is one of the best ways to journal where I can post my thoughts, feelings and happenings of my life and people can read it...or not. Even if no one read my blog, I would still write on it faithfully, the same as I write in my journal. I'm not great at writing in my journal, after all, it's usually about 1 a.m. when I'm climbing into bed and my eyes can't stay open long enough to ensure I'm writing between the lines and I'm so exhausted or laying in a weird position that my handwriting is barely legible. Still, I do it, because I know that there is some importance in keeping a record of my life here on earth.

I write my journal entries as though I know someone will one day find them interesting enough to read. That means, of course, that I don't always confess things straight out, or I have to take extra time explaining something that I would know instantly. Still, I'd be mortified if someone came into my room and just picked up my journal and started reading. Despite what some may think, I do actually censor this blog for who I know is reading. My journal, however, is different.

That of course doesn't stop me from flipping through and reading old journal entries. I wish I would record happier things. I've noticed that this latest journal (one that my old roommate, Maria, made for me for Christmas with a picture of things that we enjoyed when we still enjoyed living together) which spans almost 2 years, has basically the same themes in each entry. Apparently, I am using my journal as a way to scold myself. As if I don't get enough scolding from friends and family who love me dearly. The biggest difference of course, is that I'm mean. I berate and belittle and name-call and write things in my journal that I would never give voice to anyone else but myself. It's disheartening to think that really if someone did read my journal, they would think not so well of me because my journal portrays me as a fat, lazy, unmotivated slob who isn't able to take control of her life or make changes. There are vows and commitments that have been abandoned by the next entry - mostly because I had forgotten that I had even written down that goal by the time I close the book. Occasionally there is mention of a boy that I hate - hate, because I secretly liked him and he never noticed -- or worse, did notice and then ignored me still - and a date sporadically. Other times there are great testimony builders and recorded scriptures that meant something to me. And in the end, I think i am the only person who will treasure my journals.

The whole reason I've even been thinking about my journals at all is because I just finished reading These Is My Words by Nancy E. Turner. It's probably one of the better books I've read recently. And it is written in the format of a journal. The journal of Sarah Agnes Prine who write the tales of her life as a pioneer woman living in the Arizona territory just before the turn of the century. She write about the Indian wars and shooting guns and losing a father, a brother, two husbands, children and all sorts of calamities and mishaps with the land and its people. I read her journal entries (it's fiction, but very well researched from what I can tell) and think that her life is by far more interesting than mine will ever be. Not that I'd want to lose my brother to a rattlesnake bite or discover a man who had been trapped under the rotting carcass of his horse for a few days... But even when she talks about mundane things like doing laundry, or the cistern running low on water or making a trip to town or the passion she had for finding a wagon full of books I was so enthralled with the life that she was living. I can't imagine anyone caring about the TV shows I like to watch or the fact that I've been working on one class for six years of my life or how I desperately need money to accomplish the things that I am quite certain I will never be able to accomplish.

I highly recommend this book to anyone who likes historical fiction. This has everything. Romance, Indians, shootouts, death... etc. I may have even welled up once or twice.


But still, I continue to write. Because one day, maybe our world will become like the Jetson's, and people will wonder what it was like to drive down I-15, yelling and cursing Utah drivers instead of cruising through the atmosphere like it was nothing. Who really knows?

Review: Arranged

I think that the quote at the top of the picture says it all: "A gem of a film."

It arrested my attention by describing that it followed two women, an Orthodox Jew and a Muslim who become friends as they teach at the same school and bond over the fact that they are both expected to wed through an arranged marriage.

I love Nasira's sense of humor and the way they both handle the outside criticism, usually portrayed through the views of the principal. The most inspiring part of the movie was watching the way Rochel, who received more pressure from her mother and aunt about choosing from the prospective men (who were all gross and awkward) went in frustration to see a cousin who gave up the Orthodox lifestyle for a more worldly one. During this scene, Rochel stands up for what she believes in and realizes that she can not turn against her faith.

I was so impressed the way both women accepted the standards their religions taught and lived by them faithfully. Rochel would not shake the man's hand at the party because that is an Orthodox custom. Neither woman seemed upset with their strict dress codes, whether they be high-necked or with a scarf. It made me think how I live my standards. I always seem to be pushing the limits by letting my neckline go down as low as possible or wishing I could wear sleeveless shirts. Or even dreaming about tattoos...

The film was very thought provoking and very well done. I found some scenes very entertaining and even let out a few giggles. I gave it 5 stars and highly recommend it.

Finished product

A couple of years ago I started writing a book.

It was the product of reading several books that I just knew I could do better. The whole, "If this can be published - surely I can be published," really inspired me to write. I mean, have you read some of those - especially cheesy LDS fiction - books out there? And of course, I should probably thank Stats for being my inspiration as well. I'm certain out of the 510 pages, about 60% of my book was written while I was supposed to be doing stats, was doing stats or was sitting in class for stats. It certainly brings out my creative juices!

Anyway, after two years I've finished my book. It is a fairly huge accomplishment. I can't help but feel a little puffy about it. So I sent a few copies out for friends/editors to read and I printed out a copy for myself to begin the red-lining. I left out the 250+ pages sitting out and Roberta started reading it.

The first comment I heard from her about the book was through Becca who had overheard Roberta telling a friend on the phone that she was reading a book that "the little girl that lives with me" wrote, and that she was enjoying it. She finished it in a couple of days - yesterday, reading for 6 hours or so. And the consensus: She loved it. She had a lot of really good things to say about it, couldn't put it down, etc.

I am very pleased. We both know that there is some work to be done. Some rewriting to do and some congruency fixes. But according to Roberta, it is publishing-worthy. And, maybe even career-worthy. Which, I must say, I would love! And there are more books in the works, so I guess we will see. I will keep you updated as I edit, and start sending this piece of work to publisher.

One good review, and I've totally let it go to my head.

An excerpt:

He didn’t have to peek at his cards again because he knew exactly what he’d find. He’d mastered his poker face some time ago, but the knowledge that he was about to win a rather large sum of money made him want to smile. And it wasn’t because he actually needed the money; it was more the fact that the men he was playing with all needed a lesson in humility.

He looked at the blonde, scruffy man sitting across from him – not closely, he didn’t want to be caught staring – but enough to read the look of desperation on his face. This man needed to win. What was supposed to be a blank slate instead showed exactly what it shouldn’t – he was in deep. Of course, the man wasn’t going to win. Ashton had this in the bag, and for a second, he felt a little guilty. He really didn’t need to win. The casino they were sitting in was owned by his very wealthy grandfather, which would mean that he’d inherit the wealth eventually. He was the only grandson and his grandfather had promised him that he would get part of his inheritance as soon as he married. The death of his parents had already left him set in the financial department, anyway; though many wouldn’t know it considering his current state of homelessness.

This self-chosen placelessness was what found him in his grandfather’s casino in California. Here in California, men were throwing money and gold down as if it was as worthless as feed corn, and now that he was here, he was enjoying being a part of it.

“Call,” the blonde said as they went around the table again.

“Fold.”

“Fold.”

Ashton hid his smile behind a cough and laid his cards face-up on the table. He heard a few muffled grunts of approval and awe. He tried to ignore the cursing on the other side of the table and the threats. He didn’t think that the threats were something he should be worried about. He’d be leaving the casino as soon as possible, and probably the state. His grandfather was notorious for being notified of Ashton’s presence and he didn’t necessarily want to be found, which meant never staying in one area for too long.

“You cheated,” the blonde man accused him, rising from his chair.

“I don’t think so, friend,” Ashton said, gathering his chips carefully. He walked over to the counter to cash in, leaving the man in the hands of the other players who were trying to hold him back and calm him down. Yes, Ashton would leave the area tomorrow. It wouldn’t do to have some angry cowboy wanting his head over a game that he had won fair and square.

“Ashton Hurst?” The man behind the counter asked, before Ashton could say anything.

He nodded in assent and leaned against the counter, knowing what to expect.

“I have a message for you, sir.” The man slid the missive over to Ashton. Then the clerk took the pile of chips and began counting, giving Ashton a moment to read his letter.

The Old Toad had found him, at last then. Ashton looked at the time-worn letter that looked as though it had traveled all over the country, maybe just one step behind him. The crisp writing was familiar enough, though he had managed to avoid it for three years, and he already had a decent idea of what the letter would be commanding him to do. It was exactly why he had wanted to take off. Later that night, he ran his calloused fingers through his hair, and set the letter and his hat on the slab of wood that served for a nightstand next to his dirty bed. It would be heaven to just curl up and fall to sleep. No matter how dirty the bed was, he was worse off. He hadn’t seen even a body of water since last week’s cattle run. He unbuckled the belt that held his gun, and carefully hung it on the bed post. If his grandfather had any idea of what he had been doing for the last few years… he smiled as he imagined the old man’s usually green features turn into the burgundy that was commonplace during a full blown tantrum.

Ashton walked to the wash basin that held the tepid water that he knew would give him instant relief, and began wiping down his face and neck. The dirt and grime that clung to his body after everyday had become so familiar, that he almost felt naked without it. He looked back at the letter sitting on his nightstand. He hadn’t read it, yet. After cashing in his chips, he decided to use the money to go and see a man about a horse, literally. He wished that he had stopped at the bathing house, too. And now, he dreaded opening the wretched letter. Still, a morbid curiosity was dying to read it – he cursed his curiosity and then sighed. He supposed that now he had it, he might as well read it. In a few long strides, he was back in front of the nightstand with ancient letter in hand. It had probably been written months ago. The news might be so old that it wouldn’t matter, he reasoned, as he tore open the seal. Ashton scanned to the bottom of the letter, it was not signed. The Old Toad –as Ashton referred him, others knew him as Martin Hurst, proprietor, businessman, and influential personality in New York – did not need to make his mark. The seal on the back of the letter was enough, as were the words.

Importance of the Director: New Moon

Oh. Hello, Jacob!

This weekend, for those of you living under a rock, one of the most anticipated films of the year has been released. New Moon is the second installment of Stephenie Meyer's Twilight series. Of course, you all know that I am basically... well, knowledgeable about the series at least.

Like the last film, I have been keeping tabs on whatever is released about New Moon. The new trailers, stills, interviews and anything that I could get my grubby hands on, I viewed and notice a lot of differences about what to expect. The major one being: This movie actually looked good.

Considering the clips and material that I got when Twilight was being worked on, I could tell that there were going to be some major differences between to the two directors, Catherine Hardwick and Chris Weitz. Everything from location to lighting to feel, to effects, wardrobe... You could definitely tell that Weitz had more money to spend than Hardwick. But also that he had a different vision.

Hardwick tried to make Twilight artsy and edgy and...weird. The added lines, "Hang on tight, Spider Monkey," the wanting to put Edward with "romantic, long flowing locks" and the strange angles of the camera all really hurt the film. We watched it last night in prepping for today's feature, and everything about the movie was terrible. We literally ripped it apart from beginning to end. I won't go on with everything, but the general consensus was that Hardwick did not push the actors to be the best that they could be. They are all pretty young, inexperienced and definitely not A-listers in the Hollywood scene. In fact, after watching Twilight, I was fairly certain that none of them actually COULD act. There were lines in the script that were so out of character that make me want to hurl. There are several mistakes (see Bella's oxygen in the hospital scene) that should have easily been fixed. I imagine a scene wrapping and Hardwick going, "That was incredible! Wonderful!" While all the actors and set people were like, "Really?" And then they shrug their shoulders and move on, when they should have probably done another take. The list goes on and on. Hardwick was trying too hard to make it something that it's not. On top of that, she just wasn't staying true to the book.

Fast forward to Chris Weitz. Yes, he had more money. And the bigger budget allowed for better effects (thank goodness, or the wolves would have been terrible) and enough make-up that ears and necks and other body parts actually got covered, instead of just putting stage make-up on their faces; and other things that I listed above. Which is great, and really added to the film. But holy cow! That's not the only difference. The movie IS the book. The discrepancies are few, and those that are there were necessary in order to be translated on film, or barely noticed. The actors - they can act. Really? You don't believe me? Well, I'm not surprised by your lack of faith. But they certainly weren't as terrible in this film as they were in Twilight. And Kristen Stewart wasn't nearly as annoying. I just can't describe the difference! It was so incredible. I'm not going to mention Taylor Lautner's 30lbs of muscle. Why? Because you saw the picture already. Watching THAT for two hours was no burden. Despite the differences, Weitz was able to tie in the first movie so that the series flows. He uses clips from the last film as flashbacks, which was surprising but worked. Which was also surprising. I loved the relationships between the characters, and the actual dialogue instead of just staring at each other. I was really just, pleased with the way this film turned out.

When the film ended, Becca turned to me and asked when we were going to see it again. I would say that that meant it was a high compliment, but I'm fairly certain we said that about Twilight. Of course, the difference is that now neither of us ever has to watch Twilight again because New Moon is so dang good. Which is the biggest difference of all. When we went into Twilight, we had fairly low expectations and therefore weren't disappointed, but we weren't excited either. We didn't love the movie, but we didn't hate it. Now, I hate it. Because New Moon is what Twilight should have been. I wish Chris Weitz would take on redoing Twilight really quick. Keep the low budget, but just make it more like the book and less artsy. Push the actors to give their best - or at least to do better!

Eclipse is set to be released in June. It has a different director, and I am a little worried about his being able to stay true to the book. He has already said that he wanted it to be darker and more violent. Plus, with the actress that plays Victoria being changed from Rachel Lefervre to Bryce Dallas Howard and who knows what else? From my experience, it is the director that makes these movies work. And I hope that David Slade is up to the task.

But - New Moon is good. And that is all I'm saying.

The Box

I walked outside tonight because I needed to run to the store and was struck with awe at how beautiful our view is at 1:00 am. Our house is located at the base of the mountains and with the mountains and the clear sky, the distance from much of the city lights - it's beautiful. I can't believe how bright the stars are. They literally catch my attention every time I step outside. Tonight they were shining so brightly that I know that if I knew ANY constellations, I would have been able to see them all. It was so stunning.

That, of course, was the up side of my night. The downside was paying $9 to go see one of the worst movies ever made.

If only I had read this before I went to see it:


I feel compelled to warn the human race!
by Frank (movies profile) Nov 7, 2009
7 of 8 people found this review helpful

I would rather let a medical intern practice inserting a urinary catheter into me for 2 1/2 hrs. By far the worst story line for a movie I have ever seen. A third grader must have written this movie. Do yourself a favor and go watch old people eat for 2 1/2 hrs at the Old Country Buffet, that would be much more entertaining.
So basically, do what the man says and go somewhere, ANYWHERE and save yourself the money. The plot is weird, and just...dumb. The acting is so-so. I believe that actors can only do as well as the screenwriter and the director give them. In this movie, it wasn't much at all. I sat through the nearly two hour movie (thinking that I had wasted five hours of my life) wondering how Cameron Diaz or James Mardsen could even get through their lines without wondering WHY they were there in the first place. There were a few jumpy scenes. But ultimately, it was DUMB, BORING and basically torture to sit through. The group of people in front of us got up and left, and I promise that I was sitting through the movie wondering if I could get away with doing the same thing. At one point, Becca and I were rolling our eyes behind Jake's back while he was rolling his eyes at Kevin in front of me. (That doesn't describe what happened very well, but basically the roommates were making the EXACT same face of boredom and torture to each other...)

So don't go see it. If only for your sanity. It's not worth it. And I may feel just a bit dumber now having watched it. It doesn't even look good on the trailer. And trust me - it's not.

The Incredible Edible Egg

I found a new use for eggs. I don't like them hard-boiled (blech!) and I really don't like just egg whites. I don't like meringue. I've never tried them poached. And I've only recently started liking them fried...as in over easy. I can't DO over hard...again, BLECH!

But for this, you don't actually eat the egg, so it doesn't matter what your preference of eggs actually are. Eggs are the new home-remedy for burns. Bad burns. Or blisters. It turns out that the lack of water in eggs helps keep the blister from actually blistering, which means there isn't a little pouch of annoyance ready to cry out every time you bump it on something, rub it against something or push on it in any way.

After burning my finger on the rotor of my car (I KNOW - stupid, girl) my poor little finger immediately blistered. Immediately. It hurt like a muuther. So I was carrying around a dish towel with ice - I know you aren't supposed to put ice on a burn, but the burn cream really wasn't doing anything - and Katie Call suggested that I put my finger in an egg. No one had ever heard of such a thing, but Carla offered her eggs to my poor finger, so I accepted.

Just crack the egg open in a bowl and stick your finger in. Immediately there is relief because the egg is cold from being refrigerated. And, it isn't ice, so it isn't too cold. The fact that there isn't any water for the blister to draw on, keeps if from filling with liquid. And whenever the egg started to feel warm, you could just swirl it around and it would feel cold again against your skin.

By the time I was done soaking my finger in 2 eggs, the blister was no more and the burning sensation nearly gone. I woke up with a callous on my finger, but no pain. I definitely have a testimony of this new trick! So forget anything you ever heard about vinegar or whatever. Just put an egg on it.

A Crimson Frost - Review

A Crimson Frost by Marcia Lynn McClure

My review

rating: 5 of 5 stars
A Crimson Frost is quite possibly Marcia Lynn McClure's best story in her whole collection. (Do not confuse this with Broderick being the best hero - I still hold a soft spot for Ryder and Ransom and Mason...)



Set back in the days of kings, queens and valiant knights, A Crimson Frost follows the Crimson Knight and Scarlet Princess as they discover their secreted love for one another while living in exile when war breaks out with a neighboring kingdom.



The style of writing is similar to Born for Thorton's Sake. Her characters are likeable. Not as witty as Ryder - but then, Ryder wasn't dealing with war and threats on the life of his love. There were parts that were a bit redundant - but easily enough played off.



I really enjoyed A Crimson Frost, and felt that it was 1000x better than The Time of Aspen Falls. A Crimson Frost stays true to the reason why I started reading Marcia Lynn McClure in the first place.


View all my reviews.

No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency Review

The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency by Alexander McCall Smith

My review

rating: 3 of 5 stars



View all my reviews.

A Short Walk Through the Hindu Kush Review

A Short Walk in the Hindu Kush by Eric Newby

My review

rating: 3 of 5 stars



View all my reviews.

Japanland Review

Japanland: A Year in Search of Wa by Karin Muller

My review

rating: 4 of 5 stars



View all my reviews.

In A Sunburned Country Review

In a Sunburned Country by Bill Bryson
My rating: 4 of 5 stars



View all my reviews

A Year in Provence Review

A Year in Provence by Peter Mayle

My review

rating: 5 of 5 stars



View all my reviews.

Aspen Falls Review

The Time of Aspen Falls by Marcia Lynn McClure

The Time of Aspen Falls is a plotless love story set in modern day Albuquerque, New Mexico. It revolves around Aspen Falls, a twenty something book store clerk and her ultimate dream guy, Rake Locker, who happens to be the very essence of what a real man should be. If the storyline redeemed the choice of names, I would have forgiven MLM, but there simply is no story.


Aspen and her best friend Gina are supposed to be twenty-something-year olds who seem to have their own apartments and jobs, but still spend time sitting in a tree that they have played in since they were little girls. They are ridiculously silly and their dialogue is reminiscent of speaking to my 91-year old grandmother. They enjoy watching Leave it to Beaver, who as a 23-year old, I have never watched a full episode and doubt very much that my peers would enjoy such a show. This horrible habit of Marcia Lynn McClure's, that is mentioning song titles and TV shows, is perhaps a personal preference, but I like my stories to be timeless. And when such specific mention of Actresses, current fads, etc. are mentioned, it bugs me. Not to mention that Aspen and Gina were drooling over an 80-year old man (who turns out to be Rake's grandfather) and Sean Connery. The current 20-something-year old, especially the younger versions, probably do not even know who Sean Connery is! Other mentions of iPods, Angelina Jolie, and Stephenie Meyer's Twilight books were not only unnecessary, but oftentimes ridiculous.


If I had been able to read the Author's Note before purchasing the book, it might have changed my mind as to whether or not I paid for it. Marcia admits that there is much of herself put into the story. I don't have a problem with that, except Marcia isn't 20-something, and it shows through her characters that she doesn't seem to know how a real 20-something-year old actually speaks and what their interests are. Her use of the word "cool" was just silly at times, and trust me, there was a lot worse. The obsession with the Balloon Fair was over done, the mention that Rake wears white underwear made me throw up a little in my mouth, and Gina's fetish with UPS guys was completely unfathomable and uncomfortable.


MLM's hero and heroine is patented. They are basically all the same in all of her books. There is a reason I have read all of her books - it works. However, in The Time of Aspen Falls, Rake was just too perfect. Except his name. Rake Locker. Rake Locker? I wanted to throw my book across the room in disgust when I read his name. And unfortunately, I came across that feeling more than once as I read. The costume party where he dresses up as "Rochester Darcy - the vampire" made me want to scream at somebody. The fact that he was a Victorian Cowboy (professional rodeo champion, by the way), that wore Nike (again with the modern-day mention of a brand) basketball shoes while running, was the perfect physique and still had perfect manners, morals, and standards, was too too much. Not to mention is was a Master Clockmaker, and a pretty successful one at that. Of course he was. His family was perfect. He was perfect. He disgusted me.


Their relationship was something incredibly perfect as well. Apparently they were mutually attracted to each other for weeks - from the moment they laid eyes on each other, they knew that they were going to fall in love. It took a crazy phobia attack to get them to finally meet, but then after that, it all moved so quickly. They were immediately in love, even though they didn't really know each other. Throughout the story there is mention of past heartbreak, a name attached to it even, but no real explanation for any of it. Gina's story is even more ridiculous - it leads to a make-out session on the day she MEETS her dream guy.


Over all, I wasted a few hours of my weekend reading this book. Worse, I wasted money I didn't have buying this book. I knew that The Time of Aspen Falls was going to be cheesy and typical. But I enjoy MLM's Westerns and Regency books (at least they leave Donny Osmond, UPS, and Edward out of it)and have liked a FEW of her modern ones; though, they tend to get increasingly worse. If she would leave out her personal convictions and work on developing the characters, while allowing for a little flaw in her hero and a little more confidence in her heroine, she would do a lot better.