Choir Music

Last night two of my sisters and I had the awesome opportunity to sing in the University Chorale concert together. It was such a fun time being together with so many of our friends in the audience, and getting to sing so many beautiful Christmas songs of praise! How is it that music has such power to move you? I don't know about everyone else, but for me the Spirit was strong throughout the experience. Said percussionist Mickey Hart, "There's nothing like music to relieve the soul and uplift it." Couldn't agree more!

Here is a different choir singing one of my favorite songs from the selection: 

And the Jones girls after the concert: 

What Shall We Give?

I love December. The next couple of weeks are some of the most stressful of the year for us students, but all of that is alleviated a little by the hot cocoa, the cheerful tunes, the carolers at our doorsteps, the lights twinkling from cozy homes and bare trees. Life is crazy, always crazy, but the Christmas season carries with it a sort of magic so unique to this time of year. It's a chance to come out of ourselves in spite of all the hectic this or that, to spend a little time making a difference in others' lives, and remember someone who makes all the difference in our lives. Two Christmas Devotionals ago, President Monson said: 

"If we are to have the very best Christmas ever, we must listen for the sound of sandaled feet. We must reach out to the Carpenter's hand. With every step we take in His footsteps, we abandon a doubt and gain a truth....My prayer is that at this Christmas season and all the Christmastimes to come, we may follow in his footsteps."

An important reminder for us all. Happy December! 

User Reviews: I Ask the Impossible

My mom has always been big on researching user reviews before she buys things. That ranges from books to movies to cameras to computers to sleeping bags to pitcher water filters...everything! She does her homework, and she always ends up getting the best bang for her buck. I've been surprised by how often the most popular brand is not actually the most functional/long lasting/well liked of the choices. And it is rarely the least expensive. And then again, sometimes it is the best deal. But you never know, until you read what the people who actually use the product have to say about it.

We have talked before about how we never write user reviews ourselves, in spite of how helpful they are to us. American author and poet, Maya Angelou said, "When you learn, teach, when you get, give." In this case, we have been learning and getting, but not teaching and giving!

And so, when I learned about my assignment in one of my English classes to purchase, read, and post a review online about a book written by any of the authors we've studied this semester, a little part of me was excited to contribute to the online world that has been so useful to my mom. (And this all ties in with being active participants in the media...it's a simple way to use the media in order to share your thoughts about the media, among other things.)

I read the Ana Castillo's poetry collection, I Ask the Impossible. Here is the review I wrote about it, which I posted on Amazon:

Ana Castillo's collection, I Ask the Impossible, is a lovely statement about being a Latina in an American world, about motherhood and womanhood, family and relationships love and loss, mythology and war. Her tone is one of endurance and triumph. She has experienced hardship both personally and vicariously through the experiences of her ancestors and her people. But she does not play the victim; her experiences have strengthened her, have made her stalwart (as in her poem "Women Don't Riot") and independent ("La Wild Woman"). And yet she maintains a tenderness, even an innocence, in spite of the severity life has handed to her from time to time, which appears in many of her poems. She about lovers ("I Decide Not to Fall in Love"), about family ("El Chicle"), about womanhood ("A Nahua Woman's Love"), about death ("Death Is Only What It Is"), and etc. She also incorporates her Mexican-American heritage throughout the collection by use of the Spanish language and various Latin American references. One of my personal favorite poems from the collection which utilizes the Spanish/English dichotomy is "Poeta en Santa Fe." This simple poem uses beautiful form and imagery in both languages to describe the lonely emptiness of a person's absence. The jump between the two languages sends the powerful message that love lost if a universally painful experience, which is both melancholic and poetic at once. The poem is only ten lines long, and yet it accomplishes its purpose with a satisfyingly relatable ease, as if speaking the plain words that have been in readers' minds, which they have not yet put into coherent thoughts. All in all, I Ask the Impossible was a delightful read. Definitely recommended to readers looking for a meaningful perspective on the human experience.

Letter Assignment

Dear Mr. Oliver,

  I recently discovered your television show about your “food revolution,” and I am highly impressed by your mission in the United States! I am a college student at Brigham Young University, along with two of my younger sisters. Though our family could not profess to be the picture of perfect diet, my mom brought us up on daily home cooked meals using fresh ingredients. We sit around the table together for dinner almost every night of the week, and every meal involves a variety of fresh fruits and vegetables, protein, grains, etc. My sisters and I have done our best to incorporate our food upbringing into our kitchens at school, but we are each surprised by how many of our roommates have not! 

   The college meal stereotype has held strong at BYU, even among a student body of faithful members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, which values and teaches about the importance of a healthy lifestyle. Said the current president of our church, Thomas S. Monson, “‘The temple of God is holy, which temple ye are’ (1 Corinthians 3:17). May we keep our bodies--our temples--fit and clean, free from harmful substances which destroy our physical, mental, and spiritual well-being.” (Our church’s beliefs about healthy diet can be found in our scriptures, in Doctrine and Covenants Section 89.) Even so, many of my college friends’ diets have consisted predominantly of pb&j’s, Ramen Noodle Soup, Easy Mac, Hamburger Helper, McDonald’s, and Little Caesars pizza. I don’t think any one of those menu choices is bad on occasion, but when they comprise the entire diet there is a problem! 

  If our Sunday school lessons aren’t getting through to us, then I think the issue stems from a more fundamental level: habit. My friends eat what their parents and schools taught them to eat. When I was in elementary school my mom packed turkey sandwiches on wheat bread, carrot sticks, strawberries, and the like in my lunches. I always drank water or Juicy Juice. My “desserts” consisted of graham crackers and a home made frosting. Nearly all my friends, on the other hand, ate Lunchables, Capri Sun, Doritos, and Oreos, or else bought lunch at the cafeteria. And you know how that goes. I learned things about diet that my peers never learned, even without formal lessons in school, simply by the things I was fed. 

That being said, I think the “food revolution” must take place in homes and in school kitchens. If kids learn what to eat by what they are fed, then I don’t think any number of classes, lessons, or demonstrations will change their thinking. The only thing that can bring about true change is an alteration in their teacher: the food on their plates and in their lunch boxes. I love that you are going into schools and helping them improve their menus. I love that you go into people’s homes and show them how to feed their children healthy, inexpensive, easy to prepare meals. When kids eat healthy foods as they grow up, they develop a lifestyle which they will continue into their independence. They will then pass it onto their children, and so on. 

Unfortunately the stereotype of the fat American hasn’t popped out of thin air. But I believe there is hope for change, if people could only get the education necessary to provide their kids with an optimally healthy lifestyle. Thank you for your mission in our country! I believe your work has and will bless the lives of many children and families, for generations to come. 

Sincerely,

Catherine Jones

Coca Cola Security Cameras

My roommate showed me this wonderful video...maybe there is hope for humanity after all! Coke always has good advertisements. This one warmed my heart. :) Enjoy! 

The Perfect Poet

Here is one of my favorite poems. I have often considered how God has created each small element of this earth with such grand precision, how everything has an exquisite delicacy beyond man's comprehension. I couldn't put it into better words than Robert Browning did when he said, "God is the perfect poet." I am sure Joyce Kilmer would agree.

Trees

Joyce Kilmer 

I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest

Against the sweet earth's flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,

And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear

A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;

Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made my fools like me,

But only God can make a tree.

A Big Disturbing Mess

I was reading up on the Columbine high school shooting (spawned from a run into this article on YahooNews this morning) and learned some interesting things about the shooters in that horrible massacre. It's really quite a bit of detail, and you can learn all about it from my trusted source, wikipedia.

But here is my main interest: the boys had a website they created for gaming, which one of the shooters (Eric Harris) turned into a sort-of blog, containing his thoughts on friends, family, school, life. According to wikipedia:

"By the end of the year, the site contained instructions on how to cause mischief, as well as instructions on how to make explosives and logs in which he described all the trouble he and Klebold were causing. Beginning in early 1997, the blog postings began to show the first signs of Harris's ever-growing anger against society." 

This anger manifested itself in posts about his desire to kill people who annoyed him, violent threats against people at his school, and a hit list of targets. Eventually police started looking into the website; during this time, the boys committed theft and were convicted to a juvenile diversion program. They attended their mandated classes, as well as therapy. Harris continued to meet with his psychologist until a few months before the shooting.

After an early release from diversion based on good behavior, Harris took down the blog portion of the website and it reverted back to its original purpose of gaming. However, he reserved a small portion of the site for continued updates on he and Klebold's progress with gathering weapons and creating bombs. In his journal, he boasted of faking the "good behavior" and leading authorities to believe he was not a threat. The website wasn't taken down until it was made public after the shootings.

The whole thing brings up a ton of what if questions. What if authorities had taken the website more seriously? What if they had actually investigated the information the boys were posting about? What if their parents had read the posts, or personal journal entries? What if they boys hadn't been let off for their admittedly feigned good behavior? What if they hadn't been bullied and teased by their peers at school?

Where do you draw the line in regards to privacy?

Here are the boys:

And I would warn you not to Google search pictures. Some pretty graphic ones that pop up. AND...I came across a tumblr thread about them, with tons of questionable people and posts here. What do you do with stuff like this?? The whole thing is just a big disturbing mess.

The Claudes in My Life

Two of my favorite things in life: classical music and impressionist art.

Song of the week: Clair de lune (meaning "moonlight" in French) by Claude Debussy, 1905

(Fun fact: This song's name comes from the poem Clair de lune by French poet Paul Verlaine.)

And happy 172nd birthday to Claude Monet yesterday! Don't you wish you could join these girls in their afternoon stroll through the poppies?

Poppies, Near Argenteuil, Claude Monet, 1873

Epicurious

Last semester my friend told me about this wonderful little app for my iPhone called "epicurious." I love to cook, it's one of my things. What a gem this app has been for my cooking endeavors!

It has all sorts of nifty aspects. The home page has categories with recipes catering toward the current season or holiday, specific health needs, family dynamics, whatever you can think of. It also allows you to search their recipe database by selecting certain things you want to include in your meal...for example, if I want to make dinner using chicken and broccoli and I want it to be an Indian dish that is low in sodium, I can choose all those categories and the app will generate a list of recipes for me that have each characteristic. It also allows you to tag those recipes (kind of like pinterest) for later access, and even creates a grocery list for you if you want. It's wonderful.

Come to find out, epicurious also has a website! It's a little different than the app, but it has all the recipes and lots of handy categories for searching. It also has tons of short videos about various cooking techniques that are very informative and interesting. Did you know that you can test meat doneness by touching your thumb to each finger and pushing down with you other hand on the flesh at the base of that thumb, comparing the firmness of your palm to the firmness of the meat you've cooked? When you're not pushing any fingers together, that is what rare meat feels like. Pointer finger is medium rare and so on until you reach the pinky, which is similar to well done meat. That is probably a very confusing explanation...search the video and it will make more sense. But who knew! Not me, until I started browsing around the epicurious website. I'm never cutting my steak open to check if it's done again.

Fun Fact: the prefix epi- means "above, over, on, nearby, upon." Still not exactly sure what that + "curious" means in relation to cooking :) 

My Sister, the Photographer

My sister is an incredibly talented photographer and I have been loving her images and creativity for years and years. As soon as I have a home of my own, I am blowing up her photos and covering my walls with them. 

American short story writer and journalist Ambrose Bierce defined photography as the following: 

"Photograph: a picture painted by the sun without instruction in art."

Lovely.

How is photography a form of media? It centers around communication. It communicates the thoughts and emotions of the photographer. It reveals the thoughts and emotions of the subject.

Brigitte Bardot, a French fashion model, said:

"A photograph can be an instant of life captured for eternity that will never cease looking back at you."

Photographs capture eternity. They tell you forever the communications of a single moment. I wish I had been more blessed with this amazing talent!

Here are a few of my favorites from my sister's creations:

Gangnam Style Invasion

Last night my roommates and I had a Halloween party at our apartment. It ended up being really fun!! But just as everyone was getting there and conversation really started rolling, one of our guests tracked down my roommate's computer and started playing that Gangnam Style video for everyone. I was totally bugged because I am kind of tired of it, and plus I thought it was so crazy that people couldn't just enjoy chatting and getting to know each other. I was seriously afraid this party that my roommate and I had planned was going to turn into yet another youtube fest, and what is the slightest bit unique about that? Luckily we shut it down when the video ended and started up a game, which turned out to be WAY more fun. Much much better than staring at a computer screen for hours.

Here is the video that plagued my party if you're interested (though I'm pretty sure every single one of you have seen it already):

Music and The Birds

Spoiler Alert: If you haven't seen The Birds and want to, don't read this. Or watch these clips. 

For my Lit & Film class, I have to do a project on Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds. While browsing youtube clips of scenes from the film, I found the clip at the end where Melanie gets attacked in the attic room. The scene is creepy enough as it is...dark house, flashlight, killer birds, the works. But I found another clip of the exact same scene that some girl put to music for a project. I was thinking about our class discussion on fear and how music totally amps up the fear factor. It definitely worked for me with the trailer for The Woman in Black. But I really can't decide which of these two clips is more suspenseful. What do you think?

(Sorry Dr. Coyne.) 

Without music (as it is in the film): 

With music: 

Happy Halloween! 

Cookie Jar

Remember this quote?

"The media's the most powerful entity on earth. They have the power to make the innocent guilty and to make the guilty innocent, and that's power. Because they control the minds of the masses." - Malcom X

Here's another:

"Any dictator would admire the uniformity and obedience of the U.S. media." -Moan Chomsky 

So which is it? Does the media control us? Or do we control the media?

Jack Johnson has some awesome lyrics in all of his songs, but I think his song "Cookie Jar" is especially resonant because it questions the media content blame game. Read the lyrics while you listen, they're very interesting:

I would turn on the TV 

But it's so embarrassing

To see all the other people 

I don't know what they mean

And it was magic at first 

When they spoke without sound

But now this world is gonna hurt 

You better turn that thing down

Turn it around

"It wasn't me," says the boy with the gun

"Sure I puled the trigger but it needed to be done

Cause life's been killing me ever since it begun

You can't blame me cause I'm too young."

"You can't blame me sure the killer was my son

But I didn't teach him to pull the trigger of the gun

It's the killing on this TV screen

You can't blame me it's those images he's seen."

Well, "You can't blame me," says the media man

Well, "I wasn't the one who came up with the plan

I just point my camera at what the people want to see

Man it's a two way mirror and you can't blame me."

"You can't blame me," says the singer of the song

Or the maker of the movie which he based his life on

"It's only entertainment and as anyone can see

The smoke machines and makeup and you can't fool me."

I was you it was me it was every man

We've all got the blood on our hands

We only receive what we demand

And if we want hell then hell is what we'll have.

And I would turn on the TV

But it's so embarrassing

To see all the other people

Don't even know what they mean

And it was magic at first

But let everyone down

And now this world is gonna hurt

You better turn it around

Turn it around.

Are producers innocently creating what we want to see, or are we mere casualties in their rampage for wealth? Does the media mirror society, or is society shaped by the media? Everybody is trying to put the blame somewhere...where do you put it?

The Cave Diver

Is storytelling a form of media? I guess if you think of media as a "means of communication," then it is. I love hearing people tell their stories. I am so interested in the culmination of little (and big) experiences that make up a person. My roommate is an especially good storyteller, and last night she had us on the edge of our seats with one of her tales.

She's an archaeology major, with a specific interest in underwater archaeology. She told us that over the summer she was talking with one of her professors during a field study excursion, and after her expression of interest in underwater cave exploration, he began to frighten her away from the prospect with his plethora of cave diving horror stories.

He told an especially disturbing story about one such unlucky adventurer. Apparently one of the (many) big dangers about underwater cave exploration is that you can't predict when/where you may run into a swift current, which may or may not sweep you away from your group and through a maze of unpredictable tunnels never before seen or inhabited by human life. Can you guess what happened to this poor, unfortunate soul? And to add to the claustrophobic terror of it all, your oxygen tank only lasts for about an hour, your lamp maybe double that. So this guy gets swept away, and his buddies can't really follow after him for fear of being channeled into the most remote of watery graves as well. They fished a cord thing through the tunnels and swam in and out, in and out, trying and trying to find him. It's a little difficult though when one fork in the labyrinth leads to another which leads to another. He could have been anywhere. Eventually, after awhile of searching (for days? weeks? How long do you look for a friend/colleague before you decide the hunt is fruitless?) they finally had to give up and go home.

As it turns out, five years later they finally found his body in a small cavern, off one of the maze of branches that they hadn't realized before. An autopsy revealed that he had been alive for an entire month before he finally expired. Though he'd lived in complete darkness all that time, he had been able to breathe because of the air in the cavern, and he lived off of the freshwater until he finally starved to death. They found areas in the cave walls where he had attempted to dig/scratch his way to an escape.

Can you imagine??? Apparently one in four cave diver archaeologists end up dying. Anybody still interested in suiting up and jumping in? My roommate sure isn't.

She made this video as part of an application for a school thing she wanted to participate in back before she came to the United States (she's Portuguese). Each applicant had to make a video describing what they would be able to contribute to the group. At the beginning of the video, the text says something to the effect of, "I know how to tell stories." She certainly does! It's a really cool clip, and she did it all completely herself. Check it out:

What I Write

I was so excited when I found out that October 19-20 are designated for celebrating the National Day on Writing! (Which is technically tomorrow, but making it an extra day....I mean, why not?) I love to write. I've loved writing since I was a little girl. I love poetry, stories, articles, essays, screenplays. I even love term papers in this twisted way, for the immense satisfaction of utilizing the perfect word with the most precise meaning in order to covey the most intentional thought. It's exhilarating, really. Some people jump out of airplanes. I put pen to paper. 

Writing, I think, is one of the most meaningful ways to engage in the media. It is thought and expansion. It is risk and discovery. It is facing the truth, it is creation. I don't know exactly how to convey this, but I have discovered more about myself through my writing (both the process and the product) than almost any other endeavor I have ever engaged in. 

Benjamin Franklin said, "Either write something worth reading, or do something worth writing." Is it just me, or does that make it sound like writing is both a means and an end to the fulfillment of the life's purposes? I mean, we write all the time. Every day. Food for thought...

This year the theme of the National Day on Writing is: What I Write. I'm not on twitter, but apparently it's a thing this weekend for everyone to share what they write. I found one random twitter post where a girl said, "I couldn't shine without the rapid sound of graphite on paper." Lovely.

My contribution to the day is a poem I wrote last November (where had the time gone?): 

These Hills 

These hills are darkened by the deep night
Quieted by country slumber
Penetrated by a November ice. 

Driving through them in the late hours,
I can almost pretend that the point where hill meets sky
Is the horizon I know so well from home,
The point where sky meets water. 

The gentle roll of mountain wave
Lulls the little farm house porch lights
Through the dark sea of grassy shrubs,
Like small fishing boats awaiting the palest pink of morning.

 So everybody celebrate today and tomorrow! And everyday for the rest of forever. What do you write?

The Best Kind of Media Out There

I am FHE mom this semester, which came as a knot of dread in my stomach when the second counselor of our bishopric extended the calling to me. I was also FHE mom my freshman year, and I got partnered with a guy who hardly ever showed up, let alone helped with any planning or execution. Plus, I am a pretty introverted person, and I have never bought into the peppy-hyper-happy-ward-leadership persona that seems mandatory for callings in BYU wards. Needless to say, it was the only one I didn't want. I should have known karma would come at me. Or...maybe Heavenly Father just had a few lessons he wanted me to learn.

One of those came in the form of the lesson my roommate gave on scripture study this past Monday. Being a group leader has made me pay extra attention to the thoughts that people give so I can be engaged and participate, and that has made all the difference for me. Anyway, her lesson wasn't anything very involved or showy. It was just each of us with our scriptures in our laps, having a discussion as she guided us from reference to reference. 

With each new verse, we delved deeper into gospel subjects of the Atonement, justice and mercy, the love of God. And I was actually really surprised by how such a simple thing was opening my eyes to insights I had never really considered before. I could very literally feel the Spirit quietly confirming truths to me.

Her entire point of the lesson was to go beyond a simple reading of the words. She told us to ask questions of the principles and doctrines and even word choice in the scriptures, and to go digging for the answers. She explained about how that kind of study, making deeper and deeper connections, will lead you to greater understanding and growth. These were all things I already knew, but for some reason the Spirit really confirmed to me the truth of her words in that moment. 

The scriptures are the best kind of media out there, aren't they!

And thank goodness for the inspiration behind callings. Being FHE mom this semester has turned out to be a really good experience for me :)  

Here's a little video about scripture study that I love. I think we could all benefit greatly by listening to its message, and doing what the people in it do: 

 

True Beauty?

Over the summer one of my friends asked me what I thought about plastic surgery. He explained that he was very against it, but then he had an interesting conversation with a girl about how she wanted to "get just a few minor things changed." She told him he couldn't understand, because he was "blessed with good genes," but it wasn't like she hated her body or anything. She just wanted to nip here, tuck there. Still herself, but a "better" version. 

I had another lively conversation with him yesterday after watching Miss Representation in class. Playing the devil's advocate a little bit, he kept challenging me by saying that I didn't know every person's reason for getting "work" done on themselves, and therefore I can't say that it is always the result of media and societal pressures. Of course, I don't know the reasoning of every individual. In spite of a few exceptional situations that come to mind, however, I disagreed with his challenge overall. 

I definitely feel that the decision to get plastic surgery, for most women, is based off of the awful influence of the media today. That's not to say that every girl sees a movie or advertisement or whatever with some tiny airbrushed sex symbol in it and thinks "I want to be sexy too! Why don't I just go get a boob job?" I don't think it is so conscious as that. But after years of bombardment from the time you were a little girl, you would be hard pressed to convince me that the media's messages have nothing to do with the fact that you are not content with the way you look. 

I have so many more thoughts on the issue, it's just too much to put into concrete words. But I was glad we watched that documentary. Though I didn't necessarily agree with every aspect of it, it brought back the flood of conviction I experienced when we watched this clip last year in Dr. Coyne's adolescence class:

I looked up the definition of "beauty," and this is what came up:

"A combination of qualities that pleases the intellect or moral sense"

Based off of that definition, I think the world is definitely confused about what true beauty is.  It isn't just your hair or skin or size. In fact, according to that definition, it has nothing to do with appearance. Rather, it is the culmination of qualities that are pleasing to the intellect, not to the eye.

Lots of food for thought.

A Walk in the Woods

I am an avid reader. I have been since I can remember. My mom said when I was a baby and she was pregnant with my sister, I would bring her book after book after book to read to me. She would be so dead tired and sick, but she would never turn me down on a book...it was the best way to entertain me. I would say things haven't changed too much.

One of my favorite books is A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson. Whether you like to read or not, you should definitely read this one. It is one of the most hilarious books I have ever read...I'm talking laugh-out-loud, read-it-to-whoever-you're-with-so-they-can-laugh-too kind of funny. Plus, it's very informative, sort of like a super interesting textbook.

Bill Bryson has written 10+ books, all creative non-fiction, autobiography style. All the one's I have read are excellent, but I think A Walk in the Woods is my favorite. It's about Bryson's experiences hiking the Appalachian Trail with an old friend named Katz. He details the events of the adventure, which are all so day-to-day you feel he may be writing your own observations and experiences. Plus, he details the history of the trail through rich imagery, interesting anecdotes, and witty humor. By the end of the book you feel not only entertained, but intellectually enlightened.

I'm telling you, there is no book more likely to be enjoyed by so broad an audience as this one. Go to the library and borrow it. Read it. Revel in it. You won't regret it.

Here is an except of one particularly funny part if you're not convinced...scroll down, second book on the list. (Though I would encourage you to skip it and read the entire book instead so it doesn't ruin the surprise!) And here is the book cover:

And just for fun, here's an assignment I did for a class a few semesters ago where we had to imitate the writing style of a favorite author. My imitations: 

• "The sun spread across the dewy hills like an epidemic, blinding every concave dip with its brightness, fevering every rounded peak with its heat."
• "I looked up into the great expanse of stalwart trunk and steady limb, nimble branch and translucent leaf, squinting at the small flickers of sunlight that filtered through the frenzied boughs as the wind tousled them."
• "The ground sucked at our worn boots as we slogged through the steamy sludge, beating away maddening mosquitoes with our dirt streaked fists and breathing heavily the muggy air."

Study Music

I decided to put the Roth & Smith (2008) study to the test...I have been listening to classical music throughout the ENTIRE time I have been studying for our first exam. I haven't taken the test yet, so I don't know what the results will be in terms of my grade. But I have noticed myself going for much longer stretches of productive study time than usual before I have to take a break! And this blog post being one of those breaks, I had better get back to it. Good luck on the test everyone!

PS The Antonio Vivaldi station on Pandora has been suiting my studying needs quite nicely. I would highly recommend it to anyone who finds him/herself struggling to concentrate.

PPS I officially reclaim my praise of Julie and Julia. Another few chapters after my post about it last week, I finally had to put the book down for good...as it went on, it got more and more explicit, more and more crude, more and more bad language-y. A book has to be pretty negative for me to actually stop reading it, especially when I'm already halfway through. So as much as I was enjoying it, I'm sorry to say I would definitely discourage anyone who doesn't want their mind tarnished by inappropriate images and language from reading it.

Texting: Part 2

I went with one of my best friends to her home stake this weekend to eat and watch the Relief Society Broadcast with her mom. Their stake did one of those elaborate dinners beforehand (which are so quintessentially Utah), and over yummy soup and cobbler, a lively discussion about texting broke out at our table.

It was interesting to hear the perspectives of these women, as they were all 50+ years old, and hadn't grown up in the "media saturated society" I have known for most of my life. They talked about their kids who are my age, and how they can usually get a better idea of what's going on in their lives over text than in person. Or over Facebook, or sometimes over the phone (if they're lucky.) My friend's mom explained that she likes having the extra options for communication, because it helps her stay closer to her kids. But some of the other ladies didn't feel so positively; one (the oldest of the group) dislikes her adult children texting because she can't read their private conversations and she worries about what they're saying. Personally, I thought that was a little much. If she were talking about her 15-year-old son then that's one thing. But if her 25-year-old can't handle himself by that point, I don't think it's really under her jurisdiction anymore.

Their thoughts made me reflect on my relationship with my own mom, and how we communicate. We do text each other pretty frequently, but we also talk on the phone. And on Facebook. And even email, sometimes. But then again, I live 3,000 miles away from her, rather than 30 miles. My point is, I talk to my mom a lot. And I don't think our relationship in person has suffered any for it. How do you keep in touch with your family?

PS I have never seen so many Crockpots in one place as I did at that dinner! (I counted 27 I think.)

The Weirdness of Children's Shows

This morning I was perusing through my Facebook news feed, and I came across a status from a girl who I knew in high school. She's married and has an almost two-year-old son. She said:

"My son is watching Curious George and the narrator just said, 'Sometimes girls and monkeys think alike.' I think I need to find a new show for him." 

I thought that was pretty funny, albeit a little weird. But that's not as strange as this...

About a month ago my friend and I went to her mom's house on a Saturday to work on a sewing project, and her younger sister was watching Arthur in the living room. On the show, a little kid was disturbed by his classmate who was sitting in the corner with his knees pulled up to his chest, rocking back and forth and moaning. When he asked his teacher what was wrong, she explained that the boy in the corner had Asperger's Syndrome. The entire episode was about this kid with Asperger's and how he kept acting really strangely.

I mean, I'm all for open awareness, but is it just me or are kid's shows getting weirder these days? This astronaut alien analogy from that Arthur episode will show you what I'm talking about:

Julie and Julia

Have any of you ever seen Julie and Julia? A couple of years ago I started the movie, but never finished it. I remember enjoying it though; I like Meryl Streep and Amy Adams, and I like food. So I don't really need any more reason to like the movie beyond the three of them mixed together. Anyway, I watched up to the rather climactic point when Julie finds out that Julia hates her blog, and that's where I stopped. So all this time, I've always wondered what happened.

I was browsing through the cook book section of the Provo library a few weeks ago, and stumbled across the book version of Julie and Julia. I'd never known that the movie was based off of a book. Nor that the story is based on actual events. I borrowed the book, and though it took a few weeks and a very bored Sunday afternoon for me to actually crack the cover, I'm glad I did!

Disclaimer: Julie Powell is a potty mouth. And she can be pretty crude. So in those regards, I don't know that I would be willing to recommend the book far and wide. (I don't remember about the language or crudeness in the movie, but I bet it's pretty similar.) But in spite of all that, the humor is witty, the story is relatable, and I totally appreciate how Julie Powell wove the life and experiences of Julia Child in and out of her story to create this grand metaphor about the monotonous beauty of life. And it also makes me want to melt some serious butter in a frying pan. 

The movie: 

The real Julie Powell, and her book: 

The real Julia Child (isn't she charming?): 

And here's a cute quote: 

"I think careful cooking is love, don't you? The loveliest thing you can cook for someone who's close to you is about as nice a valentine as you can give."

-Julia Child

The Song in My Head

This morning I was working on my Spotify playlists, and decided to add We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together by Taylor Swift to the collection. It took quite a long process for me to get to the point of liking the song enough to deem it an appropriate addition to my little compilation, but there I was dragging it shamelessly into my "Upbeat" playlist. And ever since, it has been so stuck in my head. I mean like the completely constant repetition of "We are never ever ever getting back together...weeeeeee are never ever ever getting back together" over and over, without a single moments break. All. Day. Long. My roommate texted me this afternoon: "Haha that song is in my head now." It's contagion. 

 

This is nothing unique for me though. If it's not one song, it's another. I don't think there is ever a moment that goes by during which I don't have some song playing the soundtrack of my life in the back of my mind. (And sometimes it's not so inconspicuously tucked away in my brain...like when I'm in the shower, or walking across campus, or while I cook dinner, or study...)

So my question is, what is it about music that makes things stick so strongly in your mind? Why is it that I can spend 15 minutes a night for an entire week trying to memorize a two-line scripture to no avail, and yet I know every line to every song on my iPod, a feat accomplished without exerting a single ounce of effort? Maybe I should put my notes from my classes to music. It would probably make acing my tests a lot easier. 

Here's the song. Give it a listen or two, and don't be surprised if the next 24 hours involve mindless lyrics swimming through the oblivion of your mind: 

The Trouble with Texting

As much as I hate to admit it, I'm one of those people who's pretty glued to their cell phone. I'm big on texting...I like the idea of being able to share a little thought or ask a quick question wherever I am, whenever the fancy strikes me. But the longer I have used texting, and the older I get, I'm really beginning to dislike it. Not because I like texting any less; I still love its small conveniences. But there are two reasons why I've become disenchanted with it lately:

1. Serious conversations are not meant to be had over text.
2. Real relationships cannot be formed over text.

And a frustrating number of people don't seem to realize that those two issues are true!

According to Irish playwright George Bernard Shaw, "The single biggest problem in communication is the illusion that it has taken place." 

Lately it feels like people substitute texting for real communication, form a relationship founded upon it, and figure it's "good enough." Well it's not for me...where is the fulfillment in that? I really don't think it exists.

Also, here's a video about some girls who are "textaholics." Kind of creepy that there's an actual term for it these days.

Levi's Aren't Just Your Mom's Jeans Anymore

I know this isn't news, but advertising isn't always (ever?) what it seems!

According to an article in Forbes magazine in 2000, the increasingly disinterested customer base of Levi Strauss & Company jeans put them in a desperate state of trying to reinvent their "cool factor," as sales plummeted and their more "hip" competitors thrived. Said the chief executive of the company, "Levi's still means stiff, blue denim." So what did they do? They began a new advertising campaign in an attempt to recapture their once flourishing customer base, of course. 

Thus began their collection of ads called "Go Forth" in 2009. The ads that have been released since the debut are fraught with images of the young and the free, running through fields with flags of rebellion and standing boldly on the brink of new horizons at the seashore. And all set to the raw and inspiring poetry of Charles Bukowski's The Laughing Heart and Walt Whitman's Pioneers! O Pioneers! 

Pretty inspiring, right? It certainly makes wearing Levi jeans look much more glamorous and romanticized than the stiff, blue denim the chief executive of the company was talking about. Well that's all fine and dandy (although I don't know about you, but I have never felt the urge to march through city streets in rebellion from putting on a pair of jeans. But then again, I haven't had a pair of Levi jeans since maybe the 6th grade.) 

This is where things get really interesting though. In 2010 they launched an addition to their "Go Forth" campaign, which involves the small and deteriorating town of Braddock, Pennsylvania. According to an article in the New York Times in 2009:

"The state has classified it a 'distressed municipality' — bankrupt, more or less — since the Reagan administration. The tax base is gone. So are most of the residents. The population, about 18,000 after World War II, has declined to less than 3,000. Many of those who remain are unemployed. Real estate prices fell 50 percent in the last year."

So who steps in, just a year after this article was written? None other than our trusty friends at Levi Strauss & Co. And now they're singing a little different of a tune. Here's one of their commercials about Braddock: 

Makes you feel good, right? Seems like there's hope for this little town. Seems like there's hope for all of us actually, as we view this commercial from the perspective of a financially strained country. After all, what's more American than rebirth and hard work (and Levi's jeans?) It certainly hits home anyway. 

But Levi Strauss's campaign to help Braddock "get to work" has spurred some intriguing debate about the motives behind their interest in this small town. For all their grassroots American sentiments, Levi doesn't have a single factory in the United States besides the headquarters in San Francisco. Sure they're donating money to the community center and local library, but what the good people of Braddock, PA really need are jobs, not a new pair of jeans to wear while they browse through books on a nice new shelf. 

According to an article in a Pittsburg, PA newspaper in 2010: 

"You could say that Levi's is using the struggling neighborhood to form their image and get extra karmic points. You could say that they are exploiting the misfortunes of the area for their own advantage. The ad campaign itself makes little sense."

So anyway, what is Levi Strauss & Co. telling us? That there are new horizons for us to explore. That there is freedom to be captured. And that we can rebuild our country from whatever shambles it may be in with a little hard work. But only if we buy their jeans! And don't worry, that money we spend on their products won't even go back into our economy or provide a job for any American worker. There's more to it than meets the eye, I'd say! Interesting, isn't it?

North by Northwest

I'm taking a Lit & Film class this semester to finish up my English minor, and we are focusing on Hitchcock films. After two boring weeks of readings and memorizing film terms like "zoom" and "cut" and "superimposition," we finally started our first film today: North by Northwest. I am like...the BIGGEST wimp when it comes to scary movies. My friends in high school practically had to tie me down to the couch to get me to watch The Village, my first scary movie, when I was 17-years-old. I saw The Ring four years ago, and I still wake up in the night fearing for my life sometimes. I'm a lock-all-the-doors-and-turn-on-all-the-lights kinda girl. That being said, I would highly recommend North by Northwest!

The thing I love about Hitchcock is that he's totally mastered the suspense thing, and in a way that's so fun and doesn't keep you up at night. Why don't they make movies like these still? Probably because Cary Grant isn't around anymore to make us girls swoon.

And here are a few Hitchcock quotes for your reading pleasure:

• "Always make the audience suffer as much as possible."
• "There is no terror in the bang, only in the anticipation of it." 
• "What is drama, but life with the dull parts cut out?"
• "The length of a film should be directly related to the endurance of the human bladder." 

Décimas

Yesterday I was cooking dinner with my Portuguese roommate Mari, who I love, when she told me to look up the song Décimas (which is the Spanish word for "Tenths").  This is a song by artist Pedro Aznar, a famous Argentine folk singer.  I'd never heard the song before, but was instantly captivated by its haunting tune and melodic nuances. And all in Spanish. (I love the Spanish language...they don't call it romantic for nothing.) 

As I was lulled through each verse and chorus, I began to realize again what I have realized time and time before: music knows no bounds. It doesn't matter what language it's in, or who's singing or what instrument is used...if it's put to a tune or rhythm, it has a way of touching the mind and heart that's completely unique to its genre. Said English writer Aldous Huxley, "After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music." I couldn't agree more. 

Here's a clip of the song:

And if you're curious, here's the English translation of the lyrics. Mari says it's not the best translation, but you get the gist: 


Again I lost the route,
I sail in deserts
dead sea road,
mourn the whole night.
The sun slipped into his cave,
wet sink seas,
I'm a bundle of nerves,
a cry long and deep.
Do not know why I get confused
tired with your love.

At night the moon shows
lighting his face and sad,
the sky finally undressing,
death rocked his cradle.
At last the misfortune
go to sleep for a while,
remove suit and shoes,
forget my existence,
I against his sentence
declare my contempt.

Life's journey fruitful
if there are bridges to the other.
You flew, he had in us,
you went out into the world.
The resounding fell cold.
Your teeth showed oblivion.
Not sure how you feel
dumb fear this fear.
After the dream for the future
I can not live this.

At night the moon shows
lighting his face and sad,
the sky finally undressing,
death rocked his cradle.
At last the misfortune
go to sleep for a while,
remove suit and shoes,
forget my existence,
I against his sentence
declare my contempt.