london

lisa gave this to me, and i love it.


Fifty People, One Question: London from Crush + Lovely on Vimeo.

i heart it.

i did this on facebook, and so i published it here, too.

25 things about you if you're tagged. Then tag 25 other people.

1. I'm only doing this because Heather and Matt both tagged me to.

2. and if I wasn't writing this, I'd be reading about Love's Labours Lost on Sparknotes.

3. Every morning I wake up with a different song stuck in my head. This morning it was Rent, which I haven't listened to since Junior year.

4. I sleep in a bunk bed in my apartment.

5. Every morning my roommate turns the thermostat way up, and the heat is what wakes me. Then I get out of bed and turn it way down.

6. I'm trying to decide what to do with my life. It's easy to choose a major. A minor is hard because it decides what you'll do with your major, especially as ambiguous a major as English.

7. I miss all my friends. Whether you're in Minnesota, London, South Provo, or the Riv. I don't see you enough.

8. I am a model for art classes at BYU. It is not nude. Don't freak out.

9. I have a big bookshelf in my house filled with dozens of books, but whenever I'm looking for a specific book, it's never there.

10. My phone refuses to download a freaking ringtone and I'm sick of it.

11. I'm listening to the Sufjan Steven's Christmas Album, even though it's almost February.

12. I have two big Beatles posters in my house, and four little ones.

13. Paul is my favorite Beatle.

14. The idea of Valentines day scares me, because this is the first year I'm dating someone during February.

15. I am teaching myself the guitar. I am not terribly good, but I can get by.

16. I got a new journal on the 7th of this month. It's nearly full.

17. I usually write on my blog every day at least once, and I LOVE comments more than anything.

18. I'm writing a young adult novel. I'm about 50 pages in. I just figured out the main conflict, and I've been very anxious thinking of it.

19. I am very happy with my body, and usually my appearance in general.

20. I do wish I would go exercising, but I'm too lazy.

21. I kind of want to go tanning, but promised I would not.

22. I'm taking French. I love it, but I am bad at it.

23. Lisa is coming to visit me!

24. I have pirated copies of Slumdog Millionaire, Garden State, all three seasons of Arrested Development, and Harry Potter books on tape.

25. I am happy.

evil in apple

Once upon a time, there was a happy young girl named Becky. Becky loved to listen to music, she wanted to listen to music all day and all night. Becky's junior year in high school her grandfather bought her expensive music player called an iPod. Becky loved it, because she could have all of the music she'd ever want in one place, and she could carry it around and listen to it. Her iPod looked like this:

She even listens to the Gorillaz, and Feel Good Inc. is her favorite song by them. For four years Becky listened to her iPod, and it never failed her. Sometimes the battery died. Sometimes it inexplicably deleted all her music. And, sure, every few months she needed to replace the broken headphones.



The headphones look like this.
Today, via headphones, Becky's iPod electrocuted her.
This sounds like a lie, doesn't it? It is not.
The first time Becky was shocked, she did not realize what had happened. "Maybe I touched something metal," she thought.
The second time she was shocked, she chuckled. "My headphones are getting a little crackily" she thought. She did not realize it was the beginning of the end.
The third time hurt so dang much that Becky pulled out her earphones, and decided to wait until she had gone inside. "Maybe it was the cold weather," she told herself. "It stiffens up the cord and does funny things to it."
The fourth time Becky was in the bookstore. She yelped in pain, and yanked out the earphones. She turned off Iron and Wine (which was hard because she really wanted to listen), and went to class without music.
After French, Becky pulled out her music out of habit. She had already forgotten. O how quickly we forget!
And how easily we remember!
Those bloody headphones. They're in for it.
They are evil.

Did anyone even know they could electrocute you?
No. It doesn't even seem real.
Five times in two hours. How stupid can I get?

good news

I cry a lot. Almost daily.
Today I had a good cry.
It really was good, too. It was happy crying.
It seems silly when I try to make sense of why I was crying, but here goes.

My uncle Renn is getting married.
(and he neglected to call and tell me --though that's not why I cried.)
My mom told me.
First I was dumbfounded.
Literally. I was speechless, I couldn't think to form sentences. It was super unexpected for me. I've only met this girl once, and even though I liked her, it was a strange idea that she would be the new Aunt Kiera Patch in my life.

Then I texted Katie to tell her. I needed to tell someone, and everyone else in the family already knew, apparently. Katie's response: What Temple?
For the first time I started to feel kind of sentimental, like "Ah! Renn is getting married in the temple!" I've known a lot of people to get married recently, and all I ever feel is a sort of polite excitement. "Yay, you're getting married. It's nice you'll be so happy. Today I want a sandwich."
Then I called and talked to Renn, handed out the congratulations, repeated exclaimations of my exceitment, and made him promise to fit a double date in with Travis and I while he has a busy schedule.
Then I hung up.
Then I lost it.
I sat in my walk-in closet and cried, especially gasping choking tears, too, since I was trying to be quiet so as to not freak out the roommates.
Oh my goodness, what is wrong with me? There's no way I can handle a wedding if I lose it after hearing an engagment story.
Congratulations, Renn and Kiera. I'm sure you won't read this post, but I'm super happy for you.

"Why do you write?"

I have literally been asked this question dozens of times. At the top of scholarship entry forms, and writing contests, by curious readers, but most often, by writing teachers.
Although I usually base my answer around a little story about my dad reciting poetry to me, that is not true. There is a much simpler answer, and for some reason I assumed that everyone who writes wrote for the same reason as I.
Yesterday, in my Writing Literature for Children and Adolescents class, my teacher posed the question to the group of us, gave us a minute to respond and then asked us.

girl 1 said: I love stories, I love hearing them, and creating them. I love how they change us after we know them.

boy 1 said: I can't find my purpose in life. I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing, and every time I sit down and write, I feel like I'm closer to getting an answer.

girl 2 said: Everything I write is therapeutic in some way. I have a deep emotional connection to each of my characters and story lines.

girl 3 said: I just want to be published. I'm writing so I can see my name in print.
(her name is marissa. she is stupid.)

girl 4 was named becky. this is what she wrote: I love words. Words have power. I want to change the world, I want to help people. I want to make people laugh or smile forever, even after I'm gone. I want to help them understand each other, even if just for a minute. I want to make a difference, and an impact and words are the strongest instrument I could have.

If you read my other blog, the one that only Brooke, Kaylie, and my Grandma read, then you probably already know.
If the house is burning down around my ears, I'm going to stop and save my words before I leave.

tying the knot

The last thing I care about is celebrity drama and romance.
Except, when celebrities I love get married.
Okay, I know I'm a hypocrite, but let me just say, it's nice to see famous people get married without all the drama and pictures of the exes crying on People covers. Just to see other people get married because they're in love is pleasant, always.
I wasn't going to write about this, because I hate being that person. Unfortunately, I am that person.
And I googled them today to be obnoxious, and because I'm curious, and because Lana brought it up.

They're engaged! It happened "before the holidays," so this is late news, but this is Zoey Deschanel (the actress) and Ben Gibbard (Death Cab).
How lovely.

books i read today instead of working

the book thief

carl sandburg

emily dickinson

harry potter and the chamber of secrets

the never ending story
--okay that was a movie, about a book.
--and Paige cried when the horse gave into sadness, and got sucked in the mud.
--i made a joke about it
--i said, "oh no, he got sucked into quicksad."
--only sophie laughed.

I have seven full journals sitting on my desk

because i'm afraid to be without them.

lisa said she's looking at tickets to come out here. to UTAH. if that happens, i will be so beyond excited. i've been trying to think of what to do while she's here.

i decorated my desk today, because yesterday i got a bookcase, and now my books have a real home, and my desk is filled with pictures and journals.

travis and i went to another sundance film and then to the bombay house. the film, food, and company were all excellent.

i am totally into movies projected on the wall. tonight i watched my fourth this weekend. all were rated R. don't judge me.

my stomach hurts, and the inside of mouth tastes weird. i want ice water, but don't want to get up.

i am trying really hard to preserve my texts, so if you text me and i don't respond, don't be offended, i only have 1000 a month.

i have new music this week, fionn reagan, vandaveer, and midlake.

i'm tired and should go to bed, because i have many important things to do/avoid tomorrow.

i think my roommates hate me, because i am noisy, and play strange music, have friends over, and watch R-rated movies.

i feel like there are so many things that i want, but i don't recognize any of it for what it is.

today i missed my brother a lot. i wanted to call him, but didn't have a chance.

in an hour and a half long car ride today, i gave a summary of the last twenty years, from birth to today. i feel pretty satisfied with my life thus far.

i try to read the times, so i can feel cultured and informed, but i only ever read the cover stories, and then turn to food, the arts, and the home. yesterday i tore out some pictures of a living room i love.

i'm not sure why i get so homesick for my boys from home, since i love it here. if i loved it even a tiny bit less though, i'd be at the U of M.

my fingers are sore, because i've been playing a steel-string lately, instead of nylon. i still can't strum.

i think i'm going to brush my teeth now.

goodnight, loves.

Yours Truly

I finally remembered to bring my camera modeling, and my friend Stephanie was in the class and I took a picture of her drawing.
Unfortunately, my camera died after only one picture. But here it is.
Isn't it cool?
It's from behind.

stealing the milk right from the cup

I made Lauren dinner tonight.
We had barbecue chicken.
She ate my food, drank my milk, and took my picture.
All of those are precious, precious commodities.

I am online searching for Harry Potter previews with Legos, and look over to see Lauren pouring the milk from my cup, which I had just refilled, into her own cup.
She drank it quickly.
And denied blame.

Even now, she asks "What did I do?"
She laughs. I am not amused.

I look into my cup, and see ice, covered in milk, and Lauren says "What? Didn't you want milk covered ice?"
No.

She makes this face because she thinks she is innocent.
She is taking pictures of herself looking sad.

She is not really sad.
I am sad.
All I wanted was to quench my thirst.
Now I have to beat Lauren up.
A lot.

Inauguration

Yesterday, I unfortunately did not have an opportunity to watch the inauguration.
I had to work. Bleh.
But I did attend an Inauguration Ball.
It was not really a ball.

We all dressed our best, and went to Daryl and Mary Lee's. We ate their food, played their guitars, and toasted our new president.

God bless America.
Brooke and Kaylie pretty much already said all the sorts of things I would say, and they're much more eloquent than I, so read up on them.

This is all I want to say: This nation was brought together almost a decade ago by a tragic and heart breaking attack, but in the years since a rift has grown up among Americans.
We need to stand together, and I believe that this president can hold us like no other could during this time of confusion and trials.
Barak Obama is our president. I did not vote for him, but I didn't vote for McCain either. Everyone who voted, whether or not their candidate won, is an adult. It's time to act like adults, and respect and support our president.
I prayed for our President almost every night of the last eight years, and that's not going to stop today.

I have recently begun an American Literary History course. I leave everyday hating the settlers who showed up on this beautiful soil, and started to destroy it. I learn in my religion class that our country was founded by God, and then I read in my Literature Class how He did it, and think "Couldn't he have sent some better men?"
But I know that if our country did not have such a bloody history, and so many deprived of their rights, there never would have been a reason to make things better.
It breaks my heart to see how the men that were here viewed human life and human rights.
But look at our country now.
This is the only country in the world that would allow Joseph Smith the opportunity to restore the church.
I have freedom of religion. I can decide to be Mormon, or Buddhist, or Catholic, or nothing.

I love this country. I love the United States of America.
I love that there is an innvocation and benediction at the begining and end of the Presidential Inauguration.
I love that I am at college, and cannot decide what I want to study, because I can study anything I please, and be anything I want to be.
I love that I can pick up newspapers and books in any bookstore, or even building on campus, and read differing opinions. We have so many freedoms!
I love that last night I could gather with a group of people, from different places and backgrounds all over the country, people who voted for one or another candidate, and toast to our President, Mr. Barak Obama.

Good morning, Neverland!

This morning, right before I stepped into the JSB I heard bells jingling happily. I'm sure it was someone on a bike, or something, but then I heard someone yell "Good morning, Pan!"
maybe they were yelling "Good morning, JEN," or something likewise.

But this morning, outside my classroom I heard the tinkling of faerie bells, and the wake-up call of the lost boys.
I can't stop smiling.

Alright, Lauren Elizabeth Bingham

I know it's only been about 10 minutes since I informed you that I desired all of the polaroids.
But I am already sick of waiting.

I'm not a terribly patient person. (You know.)

Alright, Travis David Pitcher.
(I hope that's your middle name, I couldn't remember)
I wanted to play my guitar today. YOUR fault that I couldn't.

Yes. I'm blaming you.

Alright, Lana Alyese Pewitt.
You're causing trouble in London and panic in the United States.
Reign yourself in, and then CALL ME. After we hung up today, Soph left, and I tried to call you back. My call was refused, and then you logged off.

I assume this was an accident.

Alright, Paige (won't tell me her middle name) Neunschwander.
Why aren't you living here, again?
I can't remember.

But if you insist on living elsewhere, I insist that you spend your time with me anyways.

Alright, Missionary Training Center.
I'm quitting, but only secretly. Because I"m just asking to be put on-call and taken off the schedule.
Now I don't have to give two weeks notice, and if I ever feel like working there again, I can.

I beat the system.

Alright, Rebeccah Louise Froelich.
It's time to not be so freaking fat.
You have gained weight this semester, already. You just don't know because you threw away Lana's scale in an act of defiance/rebellion.

When Lauren calls, you will answer. But only if Lauren is calling to exercise.

today is Martin Luther King Jr. Day

Tomorrow, the first black president of the United States of America is sworn into office.

I can't think of a better reason to skip school.

un-liking

i feel a little sick.
actually sick. maybe it's a guilty stomach ache, maybe i'm just uncomfortable.
but i feel almost car-sick. i feel like throwing up.

i know how to make boys like me.
i don't know how to make boys un-like me.

i try so, so hard not to lead boys on, but i must be leading freaking everyone i meet on, unintentionally.
kevin said it's because i'm nice, and treat people kindly, even when i'm not interested.
my bad. that freaking sucks.
for me.
for them.

i went on a date tonight with a friend-- at least that's all i want.
it was weird because i when i have no agenda, i am able to be myself wholly. however, the boys for which i have no agenda are usually those most interested in me.
and the other way around.
we all know how that goes, i think.
how the heck do you say that to someone? because i've tried that crap boys like to tell me that they want to hear.
i've tried saying to boys: i just want to be friends, nothing more.
straight out. no hints. no tricks.
i know how poorly that usually goes over.

i can be mean.
most of you have seen me at extreme means. i want to swear, in my description of my kinetic meanness, but i have grandmothers who read this blog. :)
and even that doesn't usually deter the people i wish it would.
i used to slap eli across the face for no reason whatsoever.
we were still best friends, and he still asked me out.
what the hell, boys? none of you make sense.
girls make sense.

i tried to leave the car quickly at the end of the date, so he wouldn't walk me to my door.
when i was already two (count them, two) flights up, he got out, and chased me to the landing, and followed me the rest of the way up.
that's the sort of thing i don't know how to handle.

remember, i'm only pretending to be an adult? situations like that are still beyond me.
so i took out my keys super fast, and tried to get inside before he could hug me, or worse.
this post seems mean.
i like him, as a friend.
this is just me being confused about handling awkward situations.
like saturday night dates that are fun until the last fifteen minutes, when you know what's coming.
and don't know how to stop the inevitable.

sundancing

Becky and Travis went to SUNDANCE FILM FESTIVAL!
yeah, are you jealous?

We parked 6 miles away from the city, so that we could park for free, and we climbed on to a bus.
And we were on the bus for about an hour and a half. Why so long? We don't know. We went in circles.

There it is. There's the bus.What is this? Is this ice?
Absolut on ice.
Jim Carrey and Kevin Bacon were in there.
This is my date, Travis. He bought the tickets. He provided the ride. He has a bunch of pictures that I want. We also got pictures in a photo booth, and I want them.
I have to write it here, so I don't forget.
This is the Michael Cera movie. Sadly, I didn't get to see Michael Cera.
But I did get to see Ashton Kutcher! Sadly, this picture didn't turn out well. My dad (who was also there, but not with us) talked to Christina Ricci for like five minutes before he realized who she was. He also saw Steven Spielberg. We met a gay porn star. He took our picture.
We also met/saw a couple directors.
All I provided was the food, and it was smashed (SUPER smashed) Subway.
These are our tickets to "Old Partner," a Korean documentary. Which was sweet az.

This is us at the theater.
At Sundance.
The Film Festival.
Dang.

this post is about my dad

because no one would believe that he's a romantic, and when he reads this, he'll be mad.

Today I spoke to my dad on the phone, while in the Wilk with Sarah and Kari. After I hung up, Sarah said, "How old is your dad?"
Me: 39
Sarah: What?! No way! How old is your mom?
Me: 38, they got married right out of high school.

We talked a little more, of this and that, but not of parents. I had to run catch a bus, and right before I turned to leave, Sarah said "Becky, wait. Are your parents still in love?"

That was nice. Because usually people ask "Are your parents still together?" and that's not the same.
It was nice to say "Yes, and sometimes I have people over, and they'll come find me and say, 'Becky, you're parents are making out in the kitchen. What do I do? I need some food.' and I get to say, 'Yeah, that happens, sorry.'"

Lately, my dad has taken it upon himself to deliver priceless gems of knowledge to my door. I think he feels he should, since I'm now at a college that not only provides their graduates with degrees, but usually spouses.
Here's some dad knowledge:

Dad: Sex is the second best thing in the world.
Me: What's the first best thing?
Dad: Temple Marriage.

Me: I feel bad that all of them are divorced, and they are all under thirty.
Dad: They didn't do things in the right order. They didn't follow the formula.
Me: What's the formula?
Dad: Find your soulmate. Get married. Done.

Dad: Being happy in life is very easy. Find someone that you love, that you're completely crazy for, and get swept up. Then stay that way forever. It's not hard to do. I'm doing it.

Also, he quoted Sleepless in Seatle.
Yes.
He did.
He said, "Find someone, and then make sure you're MFEO."

Made For Each Other.
That's all I'm looking for.
That is all.

vocab

I have recently found myself saying, "that's rad," all the time.

Lauren says to go with it.

I will.

homework.

I'm not doing it.

that is the immediate problem.

the good, the bad, and the money

i was trying to be witty, and in a failed attempt, that title was born.
i kept it.
to pain you.

the good:
my pell grant has already come!
i apparently no longer owe tuition or health care for the semester.
it also paid off a few hundred dollars of housing.

the bad:
i was not planning on using that money for any of the above besides tuition, and it did it automatically?
i was going to spend my pell grant on my 200$ french book, and for the 600$ wisdom-teeth-pulling bill. now i cannot not.

the money:
how did it all disappear so quickly? and after receiving over 2,300$ why is my bank account still empty?

a new job

today was first day at my new job.
i'm not officially supposed to "broadcast" my job, but i assume there is no one that reads this blog that would be offended, or doesn't already know about my job.
i am now a model for the BYU art classes. 8.40 an hour, isn't that much, but i'm not nude, so it's pretty good. (models are required to wear bikinis when modeling, which is good because otherwise it would be way too weird for me.)
these are the things i learned:

1. i am completely comfortable being in a room of fully clothes people, while not being fully clothed. that may or may not be a good thing.

2. i love my body. i was afraid, since i've seen my body in a bikini before, and i'm pasty white, and not trim and fit, but as soon as i got onto the little stage thing i felt perfectly at ease. i did not feel white or fat or... hairy, or anything bad. i felt very comfortable with everything i was. i think because i was in (really really) difficult poses, there was no chance i could suck in my stomach or anything, and i had to just let it be. it was terribley liberating.

3. i miss drawing.

4. modeling is freaking hard. it wasn't just "Hold still for 20 minutes, take a break, do it again." it was "wide stance, bend down, hand on your hip, other hand on your head, twist your torso, look over there, strain your neck. lock that one leg, bend the other leg in. hold that." dang. i just got paid to do the most intense yoga ever. my whole body is sore.

5. people are way uncomfortable with being looked at. through the evening my head needed to be turned one way for a long times, i found myself watching the people watching me. they did not like it.

6. art teachers are super funny. the teacher had a hard time i think, because he wanted to treat me as a person and as a model. so he would say, "follow the contours on her body, touch those and draw them." he would describe things to draw, and then decide he felt uncomfortable saying them while i could hear. obviously i was not being touched, but he did say "touch her body" like 40 times in those three hours. i hope i don't get him in trouble. it was just super funny. he would also hesitate and say things like "follow the center line of her body, from her neck to her.... .... her crotch." i kept having to stiffle giggles.
dang, i've regretted all day not bringing my camera. The drawings were so freaking cool!
anyways, i'll take pictures next time of the pictures of me.

if you read this you are obligated to respond

even if you are only secretly reading this, or do not care.

Which is best:

a. Sugar Cookies

b. Chocolate Chip Cookies

c. Peanut Butter Cookies

d. Oatmeal Cookies

e. Other Dessert (please expound)

don't be scared, be jealous.

I have excellent taste in friends.
If I do say so myself.

Want to know about my newest friend?
(Alright Travis, I stole this picture from your facebook. Don't be scared.)
hehehe. This picture makes me giggle. I still enjoy it. That might be why I enjoy it.
This is Travis Pitcher.
"Why Becky!" I hear you bellowing, "Why is there no post of me, your other dear friend, whom you have known longer?"
Probably because you're not as nice to me as Travis Pitcher.

Want to hear the list of nice things Travis Pitcher has done/is doing for Becky since like... Thursday?
1. Despite having a ticket (via Travis Pitcher), I couldn't get into see the Fictionalists (Good Morning, Maxfield -- they changed their name), due to a fire hazard and having a ton of people already in Velour. Travis Pitcher was at the concert. He felt bad I couldn't come. Travis Picther bought me a freaking CD.
Yeah.

What up.

2. Mug. You already saw it. <here> He made it. It's sweet.
3. This is my (okay... Lana's) guitar. He tuned it. He also played the song that I wrote, but he played it better.
Then it sounded like a real song. Freaking sweet.
4. I decided to stay home and watch President Monson's devotional from home because my feet hurt and I didn't want to walk. Travis Pitcher came to get me. After I told him not to come get me. Today I saw the prophet.
I love the prophet so dearly. His talk was sweet, and even though my pen died and notes I could not take, I learned a lot.
5. Were going to SUNDANCE FILM FESTIVAL! Ah! That's a life long goal that I can cross off the list after Friday. I'm so excited. Travis Picther figured out how to get tickets, something I could not figure out.
For those of you who are not as good at making friends as me, I would advise you to befriend film majors if at all possible.
Anyways, that's all.
Thanks, Travis. You are too nice to me.

but feel free to keep it up.

french

i am taking french for 4 reasons:
1. many of the people i dearly love speak french.
lana, lauren, sophie, brian, kendra... i could go on. you've inspired me.
2. albert camus
3. English and French are insanely similar, and as an English major/ hopeful-future-writer-teacher it makes sense

4. french films: my new favorite things ever.

The two above pictures are from The Diving Bell and the Butterfly. This film is outstanding. I only just saw it, and I've been dying to for ages. It's based on the true story of a man who has locked-in syndrome, full paralysis, but an active mind. He is able to communicate through blinking, and the movie is based on the book he wrote through such means. So beautiful.

Okay, these two are from A Very Long Engagement. I only just saw it tonight, and it was gorgeous. Taking place during WWI, a solider is reported dead and buried, and the disbelieving fiance he left at home starts putting together the pieces of exactly how he died.

Amélie... Again, Audrey Tautou, a magnificent actress, and Jean-Pierre Jeunet, a man I now realize is one of my favorite directors. (He directed A very long engagement, and delicatessen, two more movie on my list.) This is a beautiful movie, again. I LOVE that unlike Hollywood, most of the French films I've seen aren't pushing the plot of the film, as much as the beauty of the film itself, the film is a work of art, not just a story. This film is so funny, even if sometimes slow, because the plot doesn't matter as much as the characters do.

These two are from Delicatessen, a black humour film. In a post-apocolypic Frace food -- especially meat-- has become so rare that the butcher begins to kill people to feed his tenents. The entire town knows what is happening, and as long as they remain alive, they are grateful for the food, and help out in anyway they can. This was wonderful, since through most of the movie I didn't know if I should shudder or laugh, and usually did both.

Alright, He loves me, He loves me not. (For those of you at BYU, it's showing in the international cinema this year). I can't even tell you about this one, because knowing too much would give the film away. Let me say, we watched this for Halloween and it was very appropriate. Very creepy. It's unexpected, but not scary. You know I can't handle scary. Check this out if you're in for a surprise. Again, Audrey Tautou. Excellent.

Les Choristes! This is a beautiful, heart-warming film. Unlike some of the above, the risque meter points at almost zero. I watched this with my eleven year old brother, and despite the fact that only I cried, we both enjoyed it. A teacher at a school for delinquent children introduces a choir, and the change in the boys is outstanding. Also, amazingly beautiful. You could watch this all in French, and not understand what was happening, and still enjoy it.

This is from Au Revoir Les Enfants (Goodbye, Children), one of my weepier movies. During WWII at an all-boys Catholic school, a few Jewish boy are hidden amongst the rest of the children. The sweet realizations of the children learning that they are all important and all human is wonderful, and again the colours, the acting, the cinematography... outstanding.


This one I also cried record amounts in, Joyeux Noël (Merry Christmas). Also taking place during WWII, this tells the story of the Christmas Eve when the men from opposing sides called a cease-fire, and spent the Christmas together. It sounds simple, cliche, and lame, even if it is based on a true-story, but it is so well done! and the acting is superb... geez, I feel like the queen of hyperbole. Well, I'm only posting my favourites.

Persepolis, lucky for you, if you cannot get ahold of this animation, it is also a graphic novel (in English!) The transformation from pages to screen was really well done, and we all know how hard I am to please. The style of drawing is exactly like in the book, and despite the fact that the movie is not in colour, it is hardly all "black and white." The story is of a girl growing up in Pakistan through all the changes. Even though it's a cartoon, it is not a kid movie. Again, I wept. Excessively.

Okay. wait! Special Prize! This is my favorite Italian movie. Similar deal, beautiful, I wept, it's a little risque at times, SO worth it.
This is Nuevo Cinema Paradiso. You can watch the whole thing on YouTube in good quality with English subtitles if you're bored one day. It is very sweet, just a man looking back on his life, and the people he loved, and seeing that where he is, is entirely because of where he's been. It's not French, but still excellent.

That is all. SO, many of these are rated R, but most of them you can find edited, especially if you're in Utah. Otherwise, if you're really worried, call me, and I'll tell you when to close your eyes. Actually, I know for a fact you can watch Amelie, and Les Choristes online as well with subtitles, and some others without -- if you happen to speak French.
People, listen. Take advantage of your Netflix, or whatever. French films are da bomb.

French films. I worship you now.
You are beautiful.

the joy of letting your camera be dead for three months

I finally was so sick of not having a camera that I went ahead and charged mine. After strengthening the battery enough that it could be turned on, I found all these lovely (and OLD photos.)
Ready?

This is from when my sister Mary, and my dad stayed in Provo for a night at the beginning on November. Mary came to campus, but the rain drove us indoors. During the Tuesday devotional hour we spent most of our time in the Asian Studies section of the library.
Mostly, Mary looked at cool books, while I tried to take her picture with my crappy little camera. Oh crappy little camera, I appreciate you, but wish that you were a Canon.

Then we went to Gloria's Little Italy. I swear, I took about thirty pictures of dear old dad, but he was so wiggly that not a single one turned out. This one, you could at least tell who the picture was of. Shesh.

This is from when Lana got the Golden Egg. As described here. The noisy people above us stomp around all day. We knew that meant that they were giants. One day, in a quest to steal a neighbors egg, rather than buying her own, Lana approached a stranger in the Laundry room. Said stranger led Lana straight to the giant's house.
That's the day we got the egg from the goose that lays the golden egg. aka: that's the day we got the golden egg.

Paige had a BIRTHDAY! I took all these pretty pictures of Paige and her cake, and evidently completely forgot, since they were a very pleasant surprise.

Happy 20th Birthday, Dear. Make a wish. If you are wishing that we will be roommates again, then it is a wish I shall grant.

Lana played Happy Birthday. This is back from my pre-mad-guitar-skillz-days. Now if we have a party, I'll play. Lana can watch. On skype. From London.
I know. I checked. On line.
Lana, I miss you so dearly. Today I wrote in my journal how dearly I miss you. Come back now. London is done.

Also, this is from Thanksgiving. The most recent pictures on my camera. Remember this day? Lana taught us all to knit, and in an effort to escape Cabin Fever, we adjourned to Barnes and Noble and the eight of us chilled knitting in the kids section, drinking Carmel Apple Spice (only the best thing at Starbucks) and cracking very childish jokes.
Ah, the good ol' days.
Anyways. Happy Saturday.
Enjoy the pictures?