So I've been listening to Julia Child's "My Life in France" and all I can think about is moving to Europe. This is really bad for my focus.

Oh wait, I've always had a problem staying on task so this really isn't an issue. Whew.

Also, I spent a while last night looking at library jobs in the UK and I'm totally qualified. If they want to deal with all the junk that comes with bringing someone from outside the country to work.

This is why I don't approve of hair-feather-extensions. Also, it's delightful that fly-fishermen take their hobby so seriously- one man quoted in this article calls the trend "sacrilegious".

Oh another reason I don't approve- we are not owls, we are not Steven Tyler, and we are not in the movie "Rock-A-Doodle". Do you want to be mistaken for any of those? I don't.

I tried to upload an image of the..."female" lead from Rock-A-Doodle but Blogger is being crazy right now. Suffice it to say, you do not want to look like a sexy chicken. Or a chicken that someone tried to make look sexy. How can you look sexy with a beak? That entire movie is a travesty. IT'S ABOUT AN ELVIS CHICKEN.

The Green Lantern was....so terribly cheesy. I love Peter Saarsgard (sp? I'm too lazy to look it up right now) and he was probably the best part of this movie- the only actor who wasn't trying too hard, and he looked disgusting. But what an awesome characterization- his character pre-mutation (like at the party mid-movie) reminds me most forcefully of someone with whom I recently went on a date. And with whom I will never go on a date again.

Anyways, the movie. Oh yes, Mark Strong as Sinestro was also pretty good. But aside from that...purple aliens, blue aliens, aliens shaped like giant killer bees- it was like a new installment in the Men in Black franchise, but broader and weirder and not nearly as entertaining (as the first MiB, I can't speak to the later ones, not having seen them myself, but that should be a statement in itself- that I didn't see them). Oh yeah, and greener.

Also, I like the oath he speaks to the ring- there are the makings just in that of a spectacularly epic space-crime saga, but everything else about this movie falls SOOOO far short of that potential. Also...the good guys fight using the force of will, and the bad guys have harnessed the power of fear (which, apparently, is yellow)- that premise I know is part of the source material, but it just seems so dated.

Ugh. Watch it. If you're bored.


This movie was...meh. The same story as The Perks of Being a Wallflower (which is better) and Speak (but without the violent central premise- this is also a better story), and Born Confused (but not about second-gen Americans- this is also better)- that story being "American teenager has identity crisis but is saved by love/friends/family/relationships and art". Each of the stories mentioned about is both less-trying on my patience and more sincere than "The Art of Getting By". I am starting to really like Emma Roberts, but not even her spunk could save this bore.

There are also a lot of really awkward moments in this movie.

Skip it.



Super 8 is my favorite blockbuster-type movie so far this year (probably soon to be replaced, or at least tied, by HP7). It's not perfect, but it has all the things I love about Spielberg (heartfelt stories, honest characters, and nostalgia that somehow seems fresh) and all the things I love about Abrams (come to think of it, it's probably more his touch that takes the nostalgia and makes it seem fresh and shiny and new, and his love for explosions and big noisy things, and conspiracy theories, and awesome jokes) and smashes all of these things into a gem of flawed delight. It's hilarious, it made me jump (a lot), and it was better the second time I saw it. Also, it's two movies in one- there's a zombie movie in the credits.

Definitely definitely watch it. (with a wary eye for the surprisingly foul mouths of 13-year-olds)

Last night my cable went out. Not all the way- there's still a sort of picture, but it's covered with static and moves up and down constantly. And the sound is crazy.

ALSO since it was installed there has been an "HD technology" fee on my bill. I don't have anything HD. At all. For a TV, I have a giant boulder-like remnant of the days when television sets were three dimensional. It does not have HD picture. Anyways, you know me, and it took me a while to call them to actually remedy the billing issue. The person I spoke to recognized that that charge is bogus and shouldn't be there and offered to credit it to my account for the past three months. I've had Comcast for four months now. So what about the charge from the first month? "I'm sorry ma'am, it's just our policy not to go back further than that, and plus, you could have told us about it earlier." True, BUT.

I will explain to you why this ticked me off so much. First, don't tell me it's "just policy". Explain to me please the reason for this policy. Tell me your computer system locks out refunds past three months. Anything, give me a good reason. The claim that "it's just policy" is just a way for you to sound official when you really have no idea why things are the way they are. Second, it REALLY chapped my hide (or cooked my grits) that he would place the blame on me. REALLY, it's my fault that you've been over-charging me for four months? It's my fault that, even though I told the woman I spoke to when first setting up the account that I DID NOT WANT HD service, because I don't have anything that can show HD picture, the man who came to install the box etc... installed the *wrong* box, which caused me to be charged the wrong fee?


Yes, I waited a while to call and rectify the issue because I AM BUSY. But it is not my fault that there is a breakdown of communication within your organization, nor that your personnel are somehow simultaneously incompetent AND patronizing.

UGH. I wish there was something I could type (or, like, a font size or something) that could adequately express the depth of my frustration.

Anyways, his solution for the billing issue was that I have the wrong box, so I need to take it to the office and exchange it. Which thing I cannot do ASAP because someone is coming tomorrow night to hopefully solve the reception issues. (at least, I can't take it because then I would have to hook up a new box and if the issue persisted what if it was because of something I did? I want the technician to take a look at it and see it exactly as it was when it went out, and as it has been since then.)

Now that THAT'S over with...

Maybe I'm going to see Super8 for the second time today. DON'T JUDGE ME!

I totally have a good reason too- see there's an extra scene at the end of the credits that I didn't know about when I went to see it the first time, so I totally missed it. There. Good excuse right? It's worth the price of another movie ticket to see that scene...I think.

Anyways I'm ok with giving J.J. Abrams more money.

In other news:

1. The expected high today is somewhere in the 90s and I still haven't turned on my AC. Living in a buggy basement does have it's benefits- if being constantly chilly is a benefit (whatever, in the middle of summer, it's totally a benefit).

2. I learned not to date people who are 13 years older than I. If they are that old and have never been married....there is definitely a reason.

3. This is not news, more a piece of advice- don't ever ever barge onto an elevator before you wait to see if anyone needs to get off first. It happens to me EVERY DAY at work, and the people doing it are always either moms with strollers or more mature (i.e. elderly) folks who should certainly know better. It's rude. SO RUDE. It makes for very awkward situations. And I hate it.

I went on a date tonight. It ended with this exchange:

Me: "So if I ever decide to become a mass murderer, I'm set"
Him: "Yup, well, good night!"

(We were talking about my trunk- it's huge)

I don't know why I say the things I do.

Oh btdubs, I had my first cranky library patron the other day. It was awesome. I felt like I was back at BYUIS for a second because now, after two years away, the cranky customers are by far my best memories. Oh and Mad Cow Disease.

Anyways I was on my weekly reference desk shift and this elderly woman came up and said "I'm looking for a talk. It was by a general authority. And it's about flirting or something."

Classic.

She eventually gave the name of the speaker (or who she thought the speaker might have been) along with two other talk requests. I worked with her for maybe 5 minutes max, but every passing second made her more antsy and more angry.

She even started doing that huffy thing some folks do when they're upset- fidgeting, sighing loudly, tsk-ing, giving unhelpful suggestions.

I was eventually able to find two of the talks she was looking for, she gave up on the third- apparently she was in a hurry (except she wasn't, after she was done, she just wandered around the library aimlessly).

As we were finishing up, she told me "I would have found them myself, but our basement flooded and destroyed all our church magazines. As well as my demeanor."

Obviously.

Even though I have a job till February, I still look at job postings...like every day. So many of the interesting ones want an advanced degree in a field other than Library Science (in addition to the MLS). This has got me thinking already about the future date when I'll have to break down and get to work on something like that. I'll definitely wait until I have a job that will pay for it this time, but I have no idea what it should be. Guess the job will determine that.


Maybe I'll just go the Noah Wyle route and study everything forever. He's not just a librarian, he's THE Librarian.

Two things:

Two very important things.


First, on Sunday, Emmy and I went to see Les Mis for her birthday (nearly a month early) (but it's a birthday month so it's ok). And it was spectacular, of course. It has been forEVER since I've seen a fully staged version of Les Mis. Actually, come to think of it, I'm not sure I ever actually have- I've only ever seen either the super bare-bones rotating stage version that toured for a long time or the concert version so this was kind of a treat. Yeah I loved it. Yeah, maybe I cried a little. I DO THAT, OK?! We went on Sunday bc it was the only day I could get tickets, but they were awesome tickets. I ended up buying them from a couple who has had season tickets for nearly three decades and consequently have seen most of the shows that come through our fair city, and so just sell the ones they don't want. Orchestra section tickets far to the front at less than half the normal price. Go bargain-hunter me!

On the walk home from the theater (because it's only about three blocks from my house), we were...propositioned? by a group of young men. Well really just one. We were walking past the Salt Palace (SLC convention center for you out of towners) and stopped at an intersection to wait for the light to turn. There was a group of three young men just hanging out in front of the Salt Palace- if you're not familiar with the area, let me say that this is a completely bizarre place to be hanging out. Kind of off the beaten path, it takes up an entire block, and there's just not too much around. Anyways, they saw us and caught up and while two hung back, one (who, as I've said before, looked like an escapee from the Jersey Shore) ran up to us and asked us "why the f[***] [we were] walking away from [him]" (because he had tried to flag us down). He was clearly not...ahem...possessed of his full faculties (at mid-day on a Sunday- where do you even find alcohol at that time in Salt Lake?) so we attempted to ignore him and just kept walking. He asked us if we were Mormon (yes) and apologized for "the eff word" and proceeded to tell us that we can't live our lives in fear and being scared of everything, we need to learn to have fun. Because our religion has everything to do with why we were ignoring him...except actually it was because we weren't interested (who would be?). Anyways, he asked us in the middle of his rant if we were seeing anyone, which gave Emmy the opportunity to tell him she was married. He asked me if I was married (no) and then, literally leering and leaning over me, said "what about you? are YOU seeing anyone?" He basically ran me off the sidewalk- I had to jump away to avoid him falling on me.

THEN he proceeded to tell us that he only wanted to know because if we WERE married or seeing anyone, he just wanted us to know that they (husbands and boyfriends) aren't sincere. They're "just doing it because people tell them to". Oh and followed that up with "Because I am SERIOUSLY attracted to both of you". So flattering. Anyways there was more and blah blah blah that's all I feel like typing.



The second thing. Last night I was at FHE (church activity) because I thought to myself "well it's probably not super healthy for you just to spend every night of the week crocheting and watching TV alone in your apartment, you should probably get out and actually meet some people". So I went, saw that only the teenagers were there (did I mention that my ward now is composed almost entirely of LDS Business College students? It's a two-year school. For the vast majority of them, this is their first ever experience away from home. They are still in their TEENS for heavens sake. I am old. I have two degrees. I have a job. We don't have a lot in common. I like to whine. I'm trying not to) so I went outside once they started migrating for the "activity" (whiffle ball or something ridiculous) and grabbed my bike so I could make a quick escape around the corner to my apartment to be alone with my old lady habits.

Right when I was about to ride off, this girl ran up to the group (she had been outside with some guy doing acrobatics in the grass (I mean that literally, they were doing flips and cartwheels, I'm not trying to be coy), and he, not realizing the grass was wet, tried to do a flip, slipped, and landed on his shoulder. Now it was pointing out all weird-like.


They were both worried it might be a broken collar bone. Anyways, she came running up to the group asking if anyone had a car to drive him to the hospital because he broke something. He, however, was still walking around and not looking too bad, so I think everyone just assumed she was over-reacting and just kind of ignored her plea. I told her I lived just around the corner and would be right back with my car to take them. So I did- two minutes later (I'm really fast on a bike :) ) when I got back he was looking much worse for the wear. By the time we got him, his sister, and his acrobatics-partner into the car, and got on the way to the hospital, he was basically weeping in pain. We had to take a detour to his sister's house to pick up his insurance card first though- I'm not sure he appreciated the wait. Anyways, we got him there, they gave him some drugs, and found out he tore some ligament in his shoulder- no broken bones. And I got some blissfully quiet reading time in the waiting room (which is good- I got a start on my book club book (which should make Kari happy because we've started about three different book clubs and they always fail because I never read the books- I just have this mental block against reading books when I have to. It's a problem) which I am *loving* so far.

Anyways, the whole thing made me feel like an old mom. I just feel very far removed from that first trauma of seriously injuring yourself, and that helpless feeling of not knowing what to do when someone you care about injures themself. Not that I'm magically a nursing genius with age, I just feel so much calmer about things like that now. My first serious injury- I had someone with me in the ER, but when I had to go back and have surgery, I had no one, I took the bus to the hospital by myself. I went to surgery prep alone, and I went into recovery alone. I dealt with it, it passed, and the world didn't end.

I hope that this kid and his acrobatics partner get together though- he was talking to his mom on the phone as I drove them home, and going on and on about this girl and how much they have in common and how "cool" she is- he was still on the drugs, but it made me laugh (and it made her giggly). Cute.

I saw X-Men: First Class this weekend. I was not dissatisfied at having spent money on this, but that may only be because my expectations were kept so low by the last few movies. Mostly I was happy to have an excuse to stare at James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender for a couple of hours.

All that said, it was a fairly goofy movie with a disproportionate number of go-go boots and very mini miniskirts (but I'm pretty sure that's an accurate representation of the time period).

I don't really have much else to say about it.

All of my biggest crushes right now are opera stars (I'm looking at you (figuratively) Rene Pape and Bryn Terfel).





I really need to get a life...

My greatest sorrow in life (for today at least) is that I cannot eat and crochet at the same time.

The church is not so much concerned with whether the thoughts of its members are orthodox or heterodox as it is that they shall have thoughts.

Last night I heard yet another NPR piece about "Book of Mormon: the musical" (they love it, of course) which featured some rather misplaced humor from the show's producer, Scott Rudin, in discussing an experience he had with a former member while watching the show (the man became very emotional and Rudin laughed about the silliness of it on the air). Anyways, they played a clip from one of the songs right after the interview, in which the end of the chorus goes a little like this: "I am a Mormoooooon/and Mormons just believe!"

This, more than anything else I've heard about this show, riles me up and tells me that as many times as Trey Parker and Matt Stone claim they've read the actual Book of Mormon and as much as they claim to have studied Mormon culture, they still understand nothing about the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I consider myself a fairly intelligent type of person, and I have never, not since I left the mists of childhood and became a sentient adult, been the sort to "just believe". I know dozens of highly educated, reasonable individuals, who nevertheless believe strongly in the Church and especially in the doctrines of Jesus Christ. Have we all fallen victim to blind belief? Does the Church itself encourage that kind of following?

To answer that, I'll quote Hugh B. Brown, who was a member of the Quorum of the Twelve during most of the middle of the last century-


"There are altogether too many people in the world who are willing to accept as true whatever is printed in a book or delivered from a pulpit. Their faith never goes below the surface soil of authority. I plead with everyone I meet that they may drive their faith down through that soil and get hold of the solid truth, that they may be able to withstand the winds and storms of indecision and of doubt, of opposition and persecution...

"I have been very grateful that the freedom, dignity, and integrity of the individual are basic in church doctrine. We are free to think and express our opinions in the church. Fear will not stifle thought. God himself refuses to trammel free agency even though its exercise somtimes teaches painful lessons. Both creative science and revealed religion find their fullest and truest expression in the climate of freedom.

"I admire men and women who have developed the questing spirit, who are unafraid of new ideas as stepping stones to progress. We should, of course, respect the opinions of others, but we should also be unafraid to dissent - if we are informed. Thoughts and expressions compete in the marketplace of thought, and in that competition truth emerges triumphant. Only error fears freedom of expression.

"We should be dauntless in our pursuit of truth and resist all demands for unthinking conformity. No one would have us become mere tape recorders of other people's thoughts. We should be modest and teachable and seek to know the truth by study and faith...We must preserve freedom of the mind in the church and resist all efforts to suppress it. The church is not so much concerned with whether the thoughts of its members are orthodox or heterodox as it is that they shall have thoughts."

And that's all I have to say about that.

I finally got to see the "Cave of Forgotten Dreams". I love going to the downtown theater by myself (even though it seems hopelessly pathetic). It's close enough that I can go on my bike and breeze past all the diners and trade-conference-attendees that generally clog the streets in that part of town.

(quick summary for those who have never heard of it, this is a documentary about Chauvet cave in Southern France where, in the early 90s, three hikers discovered a pristine cave containing by far the oldest (32,000 yrs old) cave paintings known. Since its discovery, the cave has been sealed- only a few researchers have been allowed access- to preserve the environment within the cave that has kept the paintings in such good condition for so long)



Anyways, I enjoyed it. I think I had maybe glanced at some photos before of the cave before, but never really paid attention. That's probably a good thing though because I, in my state of ignorance, felt like I was discovering it for the first time with Werner Herzog and his supporting cast of anthropologists and paleontologists as my guides. This is worth seeing just for the footage of the paintings. They are spectacularly beautiful, painted with an understanding of their subjects as well as an artistic interpretation that we tend to think can only be displayed by our modern artists. I think that a lot of our shock and awe at the beauty of the images themselves comes because we forget or can't possibly understand that the people who painted them were probably very similar to us. Sure, different lifestyle, they still had Neanderthals to contend with, etc...but fundamentally I'm positive that they were motivated by the same things that we are. No amount of technology can change the nature of our basic concerns as human beings- survival, relationships, etc...



Herzog manages, even with this epically fascinating (and at times rather dry) subject, to find little flashes of humor. What I love though is that he presents to us the absurdities of some of the guest stars without derision- it seems he's rather fond of the old perfumer with the crazy eyes and the anthropologist who dresses like a mountain cave man in furs and leather (for no apparent reason). There's an interesting parallel between the interest in the lives of the creators of the paintings and the lives of these modern characters- it's the same interest, and we (I) feel the same drive to know more about/understand more about both groups.

At one point, Herzog is interviewing an anthropologist who used to be a circus performer (which is kind of fabulous) who is surprisingly eloquent. He makes what for me was the most poignant point in the film. He says that "past is lost". That, to me, is the greatest tragedy of any profession dealing with the past (like I do, though the more recent past)- the loss of those lives and their lessons. It is painful and it is hard to accept.



Though that was the lesson that stuck with me the most, I think the point Herzog tries to make is exactly the opposite- that the past is not truly lost, not in this case at least, because those ancient artists left behind something of themselves in their paintings. They left evidence that they lived, and they left evidence that they interacted with the world in which they lived, and they left evidence that they understood the world as it is- full of wonder.

(All of the pictures I've added to this post come from the French Ministry of Culture's website dedicated to the cave. Go there to explore a map and images of the cave, as well as to find out more about its history)

Yes, my world revolves around food.

I'm feeling really excited about tonight. "Why?", you ask? Well mainly all of the excitement revolves around my own pitifulness, but I will attempt to explain.

The other night, I went to Settebello (awesome authentic Neopolitan pizza place downtown- if you haven't been, you need to go, and make sure you order something covered in pancetta and arugula, they just make everything better) with my fall-back friend. It was amazing. That is not the point of this story. It's attached to a gelato shop where they serve gelato that is good but not amazing (although if you go, have the ricotta w/balsamic glaze- sweet and tangy and, ok, kind of spectacular)- after having been to Pitango gelateria in DC's Chinatown, I don't think anything else will ever compare (so I add here, if you're ever in DC, please do yourself a favor and go- hopefully it will be the end of summer and they'll have their seasonal pear sorbet which tastes like fresh pears fallen from heaven and carried to your mouth on a soft summer breeze...and I don't even like pears).

ANYways, after dinner we got gelato (because we are gluttons) and walked around the block while we ate it. It was a beautiful night. Unfortunately, this is not the most awesome block in town- the other three sides are empty lots and apartments that seem to belong more in the slums of Rio than downtown Salt Lake. When we got to the North side of the block (200 N. between 200 and 300 East) we noticed a narrow Victorian brick house stranded in the middle of this wasteland of a block. On the front was a sign that read "Bread Paradise". Yes please. I want to go to there. It's a tiny German bakery that (according to the internet and its wealth of reviews) is amazing. So ever since that day I've been wanting and trying to go but it's always been closed.

Finally I got it right- I went today during lunch and got a pretzel roll/stick/thing with cheese, a chocolate pastry, and a french baguette. Needless to say, it lived up to all the internet had been telling me, and I think that I've found my new addiction with the pretzel stick.

Anyways, having that baguette, and spending more time on the interwebz than anyone should, I got to thinking. A friend posted a recipe she had made from a blog called "Smitten Kitchen" the other day, and as I was browsing around, I found a recipe for onion soup that (despite the fact that I had just eaten) had me drooling. See it (and the fabulous pictures of cheese covered soup) here.

Oh, brief interlude here to say that a girl with whom I work loaned me seasons three and four of the BBC period-dramedy series "Lark Rise to Candlefor". Think Cranford meets...well Cranford. Kind of an ongoing and slightly sillier version, but I love it. Since I got it I have been super-excited to just coze-up on the watch and gorge myself on it.

I think you can see where this is going by now, and if you can't, then you obviously need to spend more time around me because I am very predictable.

Anyways...onion soup (super cheap to make)...awesome baguette (for croutons for mah soup)...period television show (because I don't have ENOUGH escapist tendencies)...It's going to be an awesome night.

All I'm missing is the cheese. Good thing Whole Foods is nearby...

Dear Anthropologie,



THANK YOU! For being the home of a thousand amazing dresses that I want to buy. (Also though, it's kind of torturing me because I want to buy them all. And I can't.)

Sincerely,

Me.

Should I cut bangs again? Or no? Discuss.

Note to self: never donate blood at work again! I had an appointment for 2:15 and didn't get out until 4- that is WAY too long to spend waiting to bleed for 6 minutes. That's right- only 6 of the 120 minutes I took away from my desk were spent at the purpose for which I went. Useless, chatty phlebotomists. On top of that, I'll probably end up passing out later this evening- I realized that it's probably been almost 10 years since I donated...that just doesn't seem right because I've always been so pro-donation, but that was the last time they had me in the system- 2002, when my address was still Whispering Pines, NC. That seems like a thousand years ago now. High school...



ANYways, Cave of Forgotten Dreams is playing now at the theater here downtown- I'm super excited to see it- look it up! It's about a cave in France where, in the early 90s, some...I don't know what they were...random cave explorers- oh I just remembered- it was something crazy where they were hiking or chilling in another cave and felt a breeze coming through what they thought was a solid wall- they went searching and found this huge cavern that contains what are thought to be not only the oldest, but the best preserved and most beautiful cave paintings in the world. Soon after, the French government restricted access to only a lucky few, basically locking up the cave (and probably with good reason- to prevent damage to the paintings). Rumor is they're getting ready to create a sort of park centered around the cave and opening it to public access and (one would think this was related) so opened up the cave to Werner Herzog and a small film crew so he could make a documentary (in 3d no less!) of the cave. Something about this cave seems fabulous and mysterious and i want to go to there, so I'm excited to go see that here in the next week or so.

My student loans aren't small, but listening to stories about kids graduating with 60,000-100,000 dollars of college debt, it makes me feel SO MUCH BETTER about myself and the choice I made to go to UT. I'll already be paying this off for years to come, but i can't imagine the burden I would be feeling right now if I had to pay back four times what I have to. Go me.

Now as long as I can resist getting a credit card, I'll be pretty good to go. As long as I can get another job when this one is over.