The Philosophy of Zola

All I Want for Christmas

2010-10-28T22:12:00.001-04:00

Dear Mom/Dad/Santa,

All I want for Christmas...

*cue Mariah Carey vocalisms*

iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis ... thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis:

Thanks!

Love,
Laura

P.S. And you can indeed get them. I expect to see one under the tree.

A Potato Salad Adventure!

2010-08-13T16:57:00.000-04:00

I neglected to mention that after my birthday, my family and Mr. Laura hit the beach for a few days for some well-deserved sun, sand, and... relaxation (I know, I fail at alliteration).

Clearly, the initials on top should be M.L., for Mr. Laura.
For some reason, he didn't see it that way.

It was a lovely 3-4ish days of rip tides, sunscreen, Teen Mom marathons, and great food. I had my favorite barbeque and doughnuts all in one weekend... who could ask for more?

It was also a weekend of one of the best potato salads I've ever had, courtesy of...me.

You see, a night or two before we left, my best friend Kirsten came over. We haven't seen each other much all summer, so something epic was in order. And, like typical friends in search of adventure, we decided to make potato salad. I had all the ingredients, so we got to work.

We had two positive forces in our favor:
1) I am a self-professed lover of potato salad. I'm in constant pursuit of the best one, and I rate them as critically as the Russian judges rate ice skaters. My favorite thus far comes from a local sandwich shop, but I will try almost any other to see how it measures up. Kirsten also loves potato salad, though I'm not sure if (like me) she'd marry it if she had the chance.

2) Kirsten and I love to cook together. Part of the reason we first bonded when we met was our shared love of the kitchen. And we work in tandem very, very well. Most of the time when I cook with someone, I'm a) paranoid they're doing it wrong, or b) bossing them around. Mostly both. With Kirsten, all this melts away. We each know what the other is good at and go at it like a military operation... but a lot more fun.

And the potato salad didn't disappoint, thanks to Deb Perelman's flawless recipes. It was comforting but not too bland, tangy and crunchy; a perfect example of Americana. It earned rave reviews from my family, and the leftovers accompanied us on our mini-vacay. Check this out: a perfect lunch in the middle of a beach day. Wouldn't you want to come off the hot sand for this?

I know, I know, I have to get better at food photography.

Mr. Laura and my sister both protested: "Laura, why does your food always have to be modeled like it came from a restaurant?" I swear, I wasn't trying to make it look like this! As soon as they said that, though, I had to snap a picture. But back to the focus--look at that potato salad! Yum. Case in point: look how sad Mr. Laura is that his plate isn't that diverse:

I rest my case. Viva la potato salad! And next time, I'll remember to edit the pics before placing them in the blog post.

Roseanne Cash's Potato Salad
Tweaked from Smitten Kitchen, who adapted it from Bon Appetit

The original recipe called for one of my few hated foods: pickles. There would be no pickle reconciliation for this recipe, no sir. As a substitute, they suggested cornichons. Cornichons? Ick. I left them out, and the salad still had plenty of crunch. If you want to add back in eight dill pickle spears, feel free.

Also, I'm not a huge fan of celery (looking back, I'm surprised I went ahead and made this), but I felt it was necessary to add some crunch. At first this was too much celery, but the flavor mellowed after a day or so in the fridge. If you're like me, add less celery, or give the salad a day or two to chill out. Or, add more onions! Here ya go, Kirst!

3 lbs. medium red-skinned potatoes (or regular, it doesn't really matter), unpeeled and scrubbed
1-3 celery stalks, finely chopped (about 1 cup)
1 small or medium red onion, chopped (about 1 cup, or more if you left out the celery)
3 hard-boiled eggs, peeled and chopped
2/3 cup good mayo
2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
2 tablespoons Dijon mustard (or more, if you like your salad tangier)
2 tablespoons FINELY MINCED fresh dill
Salt and pepper

Dice the potatoes and cook them in a large pot of boiling, lightly salted water until fork-tender (about 20-30 minutes). Drain and cool completely, then transfer to a large bowl and stir in everything. Season to taste with salt and pepper. A lot of this can be done in advance, or while the potatoes are cooking.

Mr. Laura found a pretzel shaped like a heart, so rest assured, he was happy again. Men.

Birthday Odds and Ends

2010-08-11T16:42:00.001-04:00

You people! I don't know if it was just luck or I have more readers than I thought, but I woke up on the morning of my birthday and found the following email in my inbox:

We know you've been waiting and...

The much loved Kennebunkport Dress in Latitude is now back in stock!

We only have a limited amount, so you have to act fast. This email isn't a guarantee you'll get one - hurry to ModCloth to be one of the lucky shoppers who do!

A good omen to begin a lovely birthday indeed.

I can't decide what was the best part of my birthday. There was the relaxing mani/pedi session (notice the purple fingernails above) and pizza with the lovely ladies of my family. There was getting cinnamon bun ice cream with an estranged friend who I hadn't seen in forever. (And never let anyone talk you out of cinnamon bun ice cream. It is TO DIE FOR.) There were presents and a lovely dinner with my family at a swanky restaurant where they wrote "Happy birthday" in chocolate on my plate.

But between the cards and the greetings and the friendly "Did you have a nice birthday, darlin'?" from the restaurant manager, possibly the best part was the drive I took to my friends' house. My iPod shuffle went into ultimate win mode, moving from the Beatles' "Birthday" to Hall & Oates's "You Make My Dreams" ~~to a few Les Mis songs, which I skipped~~ to "Man in the Mirror."

A great playlist for celebration and reflection on the year ahead. I'm going to be a bit personal here (GASP! Don't worry, I won't go too deep), but I remembered that around this time two years ago, my world was starting to fall apart. Now, two birthdays later, I realized that it's finally come back together again. And I'm glad. Seriously, I couldn't stop smiling.

Now that you've seen my vulnerable side, let's move along as I continue to remind you how sarcastic and heartless I really am.

The tomato shown above is from Brandon's garden. He has a surplus, so he generously plied me with some to take home. To me, that tomato is about the last weeks of summer. I officially only have one more before I head back to my Large-East-Coast-Public-University, but I'm looking to make that week last as long as possible. At the beginning of the summer, I wanted to rush along back to school. Now that school is looming, I wish I had another month. Does anyone else feel this way?!

I'm also bummed because my birthday money's going to end up going toward textbooks. Hmph. Not if I have my way it won't.

It's nothing personal. It's just summer.

2010-08-02T23:04:00.002-04:00

First of all, apparently my neighbors read my blog, because about half an hour after I posted about their poor choice in pool music, they switched to the Beach Boys as I requested. All. Day. Long. At least I know I have readers.

Secondly, I crossed another item off my list of things to do before the end of summer! It seems like all my posts have a Godfather theme lately; I have completed "The Godfather" video game.

The virtual Marlon Brando approves of the way I spend my summer.

To be honest, it wasn't exactly the way I wanted to win. Yes, I defeated the Barzinis (it turned out that using the Assassin's Pistol was the way to go), but I didn't get all the collectables. Collectables are a thing with me, and damn it, I wanted to crack open all the safes and complete all the execution styles. Also, one of the warehouses remains uncaptured. I got all the way to the owner, but when he refused to sell out to the Corleones, I, uh, accidentally killed him. I thought the business would regenerate within a game week, but it never did, and the game discounted it.

So, I'm the Don of New York City. I love how I'm the Don and they were still sending me into dangerous situations alone. Oh well. It was satisfying to look over the NYC skyline in the cut scene and know that I ruled it all! And now, time for the Part II game. I can hear the groans of my family now.

(Annnd, upon looking it up, I realize that there's a Wii edition! The saga shall never end!)

Thirdly, I have a birthday coming up! Tomorrow, as a matter of fact. I'm crossing my fingers for an awesome birthday, but I have a feeling it'll be like almost every other day this summer... Oh well.

At least I know what I'm getting: a camera! I can finally update my blog with my own pictures! Mostly of cooking...

On a final note, a few people have been asking what I want. Being the generous person that I am, I shall not deny you the pleasure of getting me a gift! Here are some suggestions to guide your way:

Laura's Birthday Wish List

-This adorable dress from ModCloth (I know, I know, it's sold out, but if you vote for them to restock it, you will have my undying gratitude)

-A day at the spa

-Barring that, spa stuff from here or here or here (I especially like A Place on Earth's sugar scrubs!)

-Someone asked if I like aprons. I do! If you know me well, you can probably find one that fits my personality here.

-Ice cream maker (I can't decide if I like this one or this one better. Or maybe this one?)

-That said, any and all cooking things are appreciated. Seriously. I'd love professional pastry bags. I've had my eye on this for awhile as well, but I have a feeling this will be a housewarming gift someday. A waffle iron would be good, too.

-Emus. You know, like Uggs, but better, because they're not Uggs.

-A man's flannel plaid shirt. I've secretly wanted one ever since I saw Calista Flockheart wearing one in The Birdcage. It just looks so comfy.

-How to Breathe Underwater by Julie Orringer

-Ad Hoc at Home by Thomas Keller

-The following movies (preferably full screen; I have a dislike for widescreen):

Much Ado About Nothing with Emma Thompson
Mona Lisa Smile (oh hush, it's basically the Dead Poet's Society for girls. Plus, I'm entitled to one chick flick!)
Mystic Pizza (okay, maybe two)
Memoirs of a Geisha (see a pattern here?)
Waitress
No Reservations (I can hear you! HUSH.)
Pretty Woman (looking over these, I notice a majority are Julia Roberts. Ironic, as I wouldn't count her among my favorite actresses or anything.)
M. Butterfly
The American President
Julie and Julia
Stranger Than Fiction
Maybe Milk? Maybe? I can't decide how often I'd watch that. On second thought, maybe not.
Ditto for the Dead Poets' Society

-Digital picture frame

-Tickets to Spring Awakening, Spamalot, Straight No Chaser, and Seth Meyers at my school (especially Straight No Chaser! I'm excited.)

-Wrist warmers? I put that on the list last year. I have no clue if I still want them.

-A pie.

-And finally, I don't expect this from anyone, but if I got this I would die of happiness. I'm not hiding anything. It's just a pain to shave every day.

-Or, think up your own gift! Some of my faves have been things I didn't even think of.

As you can see, this list has turned into the "Everything-I've-ever-wanted" list. I don't mean to force it down your throat, just to make it easier for people who were asking. Really, I'm not expecting anything. I'd just love to have a great day. =)

EDIT: Looking at the list, I see I can't really make up my mind about anything.

FURTHER EDIT: Upon hearing complaining and ridicule from Mr. Laura, I must add that the list does not apply to him since he already has my birthday gift.

Cruel and Unusual Punishment

2010-07-31T13:54:00.000-04:00

Last night Brandon came over and uttered the words I never thought I'd hear him speak:

"I'm kind of in a Godfather Part III mood."

Gasp! Disbelief! What is it that makes someone walk willingly toward their doom? Was it the poll I had posted on this website (which received a total of three votes, thanks a lot, guys, really appreciate it)? Did he have a premonition? Did the angel Gabriel come to him in a dream and tell him that Al Pacino dressed in old man sweaters was not worth missing?

In any case, I didn't need to confirm this temporary insanity. Off we went to Blockbuster to complete the final chapter of the Godfather saga! On the way, we discussed what kind of lunacy haunted him that he was willing to see what's been called "the scurge of the Godfather trilogy" (by me). Why was he willing to endure this cruel and unusual punishment? I will now conduct a blog sermon.

My friends, what is cruel and unusual punishment? We often think of the rack, the water torture, the dungeon, but I prefer to think of it in a more commonplace way. To me, cruel and unusual punishment is our neighbors hosting a pool party and blasting Celine Dion's The Power of Love for the enjoyment of the street. First of all, really? I'm as big a fan of Celine as the next blogger, but can't we dig out some Beach Boys or Motown for a pool party? I'd even be ok with Ke$ha, or however she spells her name. Secondly, must you replay the song five times in one day? By the fifth time, I get it: I'm your laaaaaaadyyy, and you are my maaaaaaan. But I digress.

To me, cruel and unusual punishment is the Gulf Coast oil spill and Ghana losing World Cup Soccer. The pinnacle of CUP (to create my own acronym) might be Blockbuster not having Dirty Dancing to rent.

At this point in the conversation last night, Brandon caused a minor nuclear meltdown somewhere when he admitted that he's never seen Dirty Dancing. Not once. Not even the clip that you always catch on TV. Brandon, movie connoisseur, has never seen possibly the greatest classic of our time! He doesn't know that no one puts Baby in a corner! Unacceptable. I immediately took The Birdcage off the list (because on closer inspection, turns out we've both seen it) and replaced it with Dirty Dancing. Problem solved, or will be soon. Sermon over.

Anyway, the movie! It was just short of three hours, and although we had to watch it pretty closely because some of the plot was complicated, we felt free to talk and joke through most of it. When the two of us watch mafia movies, inevitably Brandon ends up explaining most of the plot to me. Consequently, I've given up trying to figure out who did what to which person. It's enough to me to know "that person is bad and they're trying to kill him."

To our surprise, we found ourselves liking the third movie about as much as the second one. The first, we agreed, is an art form and by far the best of the three. The other two are also good movies, but basically just decent mafia flicks. To summarize: we had our hopes built so high for the second one, but we were disappointed overall. On the other hand, we had heard so much crap about Part III that we weren't expecting much, but it was good enough to bring it to the same level as Part II. Got it? No?

This movie could be retitled, "What Happens when the Mafia Gets Old"

One thing I insist upon in movies is enough plot, and I was pleased with this because there was a decent, believable plot. At least, it was no less believable than Part II, which was so confusing that I had to pause it every 20 minutes for an explanation. The acting was, for the most part, also not bad. Surprisingly, I was impressed with Diane Keaton, who I constantly mock for her bad acting in Part II (It was a SON!) She was wonderfully catty and bitchy in this, as she should be for putting up with the mafia thing for the past 30 years or so. The following dialogue did transpire, though (I guess I should have warned you earlier about spoilers, but if you're going to skip any part of the blog post, now's the time):

Me: She's going to tell him she still loves him.
Brandon: She'd never tell him that. He'll say he still loves her, but she won't say it back.
Me: I'd put money on it.
Brandon: She will not.
Me: Will too!
Kay: I've always loved you Michael; I love you still.
Me: YESSSSS.
Brandon: Son of a ...

...followed by words that I will not post on this blog. (Ignore my use of the same word in the previous paragraph.) I will admit that I also found the scene where they're leaving the opera fantastic. Apparently Al Pacino's screams were so agonizing that Francis Ford Coppola cut most of them from the sound track. Now that's a man who hasn't lost his touch for the silver screen.

This leaves only one thing to discuss... Sofia Coppola. I will give you a tip, dear reader! This movie is about ten times less frustrating if you pretend that Sofia is portraying a daughter who's, how shall we say this, a few spaghetti strands short of a serving (that's mafia-speak for not right in the head, I've decided). I'll say no more, as I'm going to hell already, but if that were the case, she deserves the Oscar! It will also help you if you imagine that Vincent is depressed and has a Napoleon complex. Thus, he thinks that any sign of love that anyone shows him is a come-on.

Thus...
*Michael kisses Vincent's hand*
Michael: Don Corleone.
Vincent: DOES THIS MEAN YOU LOVE ME? CAN I TAKE OFF YOUR SHIRT? OH PLEASE LOVE ME!

Also, Talia Shire is just annoying in this movie. Every time she shows up in this movie, the two of us would moan, "Beat it, Connie!" She needs to go join a Battered Wives' support group or a knitting circle or something. There's only one cool thing she gets to do, and it's a spoiler, so I won't mention it.

Overall, cruel and unusual punishment? I think not. I would watch it again without qualms, but with a friend. It's not the greatest movie in the world, but it doesn't deserve all the bad rap that it gets. But you know what is CUP? The fact that my neighbors just switched from Celine Dion to country music. Oh well, my heart will go on.

(I should have one of those "Currently listening" tabs so you can know what my neighbors are listening to now.)

The Picture of Dorian Gray was photoshopped

2010-07-28T16:48:00.006-04:00

Ah, summer. A lovely time for running in the sunshine, playing in the pool, and A STREP INFECTION! Picture the Courage Wolf meme saying that and it will be much funnier. No wait, I'll do it for you:

For some reason, Courage Wolf makes everything about ten times funnier. No matter, I'm completely un-contagious, and will be fully cured once I finish my KILLER ANTIBIOTICS!

Yeah.

On the bright side, my extended time on the couch gave me a new insight into the tragedies of American life, such as those that befall the real housewives of New Jersey. What a shame that Ashley pulled out Danielle's hair extensions! They're quite right to hem and haw about it for five episodes while the lower class goes about their everyday lives. On a more intellectual note, I've developed a liking for House M.D., mostly because everything that comes out of Hugh Laurie's mouth is exactly what I was thinking five seconds earlier.

Once I got better, though, I jumped back into action. Still haven't defeated the Barzinis in The Godfather (you can't pick off the damn goons; they just keep popping up behind you with air rifles), but I did finish The Picture of Dorian Gray; you'll see it in red on my list.

What did I think? Surprisingly, a great ending for a too-wordy book. Getting through the first half was tedious and took me the better part of two months, but once you hit Dorian's later life, the plot really picked up and zipped by. The ending was perfect, but that can't make me forget the beginning. It really seems like Oscar Wilde wrote the first 10 chapters to show how witty he was, writing in Lord Henry as himself.

"Yes, thank you, I am an artistic martyr whose tedious novels will be considered 'great literature' in 200 years."

Fortunately, Brandon wrote his senior term paper on The Importance of Being Earnest, so I considered him a kind-of-sort-of amateur expert on Wilde. When asked, he said that that was an easy read and that Dorian Gray is considered a departure from Wilde's typical work.

Thank heavens for that. Let us hold up Wilde as a true example of the philosophy of Zola, since I haven't talked about that in awhile. Actually, I don't know how he helped the world, if he did at all. But he did leave a lasting work, which I will probably never read again.

I did start thinking that it could be made into a modern young-adult novel, much like they did with The Great Gatsby, but I wonder if the invention of Photoshop would create a plot hole.

Hallo! Welcome to mah bloog!

2010-07-23T15:14:00.003-04:00

Remember how Brandon and I watched Family Guy after we saw The Hours? (Trust me, we needed a laugh: there was one joke in the entire movie. ONE!) Well, we got a laugh all right; in fact, we laughed so much that we rewound this part of the show no less than five times on Brandon's DVR. Before you go off about, "MEH LAURA'S RACIST," I should point out that I find this funny mainly because Swedish people sound nothing like this.

Now that you're done watching that five times, turn your attention to the poll on the side panel. I will explain.
Like most good Americans, Brandon and I have seen The Godfather (which we loved) and The Godfather Part II (which we thought was overrated). Now we are divided about watching the final chapter. I think it's our duty to see all three, at least for closure, and if it really is as bad as everyone says, at least we can laugh at it.
Brandon agrees with me in theory, but never wants to rent it when we're at Blockbuster because he's "not in the mood." Rather than punning about how this whole situation sounds like a bad romcom starring Vince Vaughn, I leave the decision to you!* Should he watch it? Why or why not? Why does this sound like an essay prompt?
*Keep in mind, Brandon, your vote in this poll is not counted.
I'm off to the theatre tonight! Have a great Friday, and visit your farmer's markets, folks. (We bought a free range chicken! I'm so proud of my mother.)

The Hours (aka the Depressed Women's Society)

2010-07-22T16:09:00.004-04:00

Two nights ago, the Depressed Women's Society had a meeting at Brandon's house. The members were all in attendance:

No one brought brownies, but that was ok; Meryl made the "crab thing" and it proved very popular (and yes, that's a rare joke from the movie). And so we were off on a two-hour journey that shuttled from 1923 England to the 1951 LA suburbs to 2001 NYC. At the end of the meeting, Brandon and I didn't jump to talk about it, but sat in silence for a minute as the credits rolled and let it sink in.

Did we like it? It was hard to say. We definitely didn't not like it; it was so complex that we tried to get through all the layers before making a final judgment call, which is still difficult to do. We came up with the following:

-The acting is phenomenal. Meryl Streep is great as usual, but it's one of the few times in her career that she's actually out-acted. Nicole Kidman perfectly portrayed a woman succumbing to mental illness. I've read a bit about Virginia Woolf (namely her hilarious Dreadnought hoax, which is possibly the best practical joke ever played), but I never realized just how much her illness affected her; I never could quite picture her in real life. Nicole Kidman pulled it off in an Oscar-worthy performance.

And Julianne Moore--holy Mrs. Dalloway, where did that come from? I haven't seen her in a lot, but I'll never doubt her abilities from now on. In Far From Heaven, she plays a character in the same time period and position as in The Hours, yet the roles are perfect polar opposites. We agreed that she should have won the Best Supporting Actress Oscar for The Hours. Not to mention, she played herself old, which could have been hilariously bad, but it wasn't.

Also, the supporting cast was all great. John C. Reilly, Toni Collette, Ed Harris (!), Allison Janney, Jeff Daniels...all had small roles, some for only a minute or two, but they were all brilliant and supportive of the powerhouse performances by the three main women. Now that I've gone on for three paragraphs about the acting, let's move on, shall we?

-All that said about the acting, the script could have used some improvement. "I felt like several times they were going somewhere good," said Brandon about the movie's various monologues, "but they got sidetracked just a little bit and ended up going somewhere else." (Nonverbatim.) I felt a little differently. Some of the script was good, but half of the character's speeches could have been cut. Frankly, Julianne Moore's segments had no impassioned monologues, and hers was the story we were both most interested in. Coincidence?

In contrast, in the 2001 setting, not a scene went by without a monologue, yet they seemed to go nowhere. Let's be honest here: in the 2000s, people rarely go on for six minutes about their feelings unless they're a) onstage, b) full of crap, or c) ACTUALLY have something important to say (the rarest of the three.) Ed Harris is brilliant as a former love interest of Meryl's living with AIDS, but he went on for way, way too long about abstract things while I zoned.

At one point, while cooking loads of food for her party (and rather suspiciously separating eggs with her hands...ew...), Meryl breaks down and monologues...about what? For that matter, was Jeff Daniels's character even necessary? He mainly comes in to witness this breakdown.

"Uhhhh, Meryl, are you aware of the dangers of salmonella poisoning? Not to mention the fact that you've got too-long fingernails, making this even more sketch?"

**Also, on another note, I would like to point out some of the realism flaws in this film. Supposedly, Mer is giving this hugeish party at her apartment, complete with seating chart. Cool, but why would you start making all the food that day? Would you really leave the baking, or even some of the prep work, until you're all frazzled? Not only that, but she takes breaks from food prep to:
a) cry in front of Jeff Daniels (who, as you can see from the picture, really doesn't give a damn)
b) cry in front of her daughter (who also doesn't really give a damn), and
c) lie on her bed with her daughter and talk about life.
As the Realist of the World, I would like to point out: THIS DOES NOT HAPPEN IN REAL LIFE. In real life, you run around like Charles Manson prepping everything, while crying and talking about life. It's called multitasking.

I might have to rename my blog: "The Philosophy of Zola...and, advice for hosting dinner parties!" And now, I will take off my Realist cap, and return to the film analysis.**

So, in closing, the script could have stood a rewriting. I haven't read the novel, so I don't know how adapted it is, but yeah.

-The score is by Philip Glass. That's all I need to tell you. I like Philip Glass's music, but it all sounds the same, and it all reminds me of The Illusionist.

-I absolutely loved the editing, and Brandon agreed: the way it seamlessly combines and intertwines the stories of the three women is attentive to detail and award-worthy. There was a specific type of name for that editing, but I don't recall it; perhaps he'll comment and tell me. Great filmmaking in general, but Brandon's more the critic of that than I am.

-And, in regards to Nicole Kidman, I loved the scenes between her and the servants. She's simultaneously afraid of them and bitching them out:

"Nelly, please go to London to get some ginger for the children. I want to give them a treat."

"I have to make lunch, ma'am. There's no time."

"You'll take the 12:30 train to London and the 2:30 back, which should leave you plenty of time. Or do I miscalculate?"

"..."

"*death stare* Is something detaining you, Nelly?"

PWNED, NELLY. And well-won, since Virginia had just caught the servants making fun of her for being mentally ill and all.

As a side note, that isn't actually the movie character. I kept trying to Google image search Nelly from the movie, and this Nelly kept coming up instead:

In my humble opinion, he would have gotten the movie the Best Picture Oscar.

-After some hard thinking, B and I decided that it was a close call, but Salma Hayek should have won Best Actress that year for her performance in Frida. Both actresses were brilliant, but Nicole only had to cover one day... Salma had to cover a lifetime. Not that Nicole didn't deserve it, of course.

So! In short, how to sum up The Hours? As you can see, it's impossible to entirely sum it up in a neat and orderly fashion. If I had to, I would say a well-performed, well-meaning movie. It's not about love, although there's a lot of love in it; it's about three women in three time periods, connected through mental strife, strength, and determination. And the ending...I won't tell you the ending, but it connects back to the beginning and the whole film so well. I call this meeting of the Depressed Women's Club to an end, and someone had better bring brownies next time.

In closing, Meryl wasn't the only character subject to a monologue. Julianne and Nicole both gave cathartic speeches; Julianne pulled hers off the best. However, Nicole's might be the most famous. It drew mixed reviews from the two of us. Brandon thought it wasn't entirely sincere; I thought it came close--so close--to the mark.

Found at the train station by her well-meaning husband, who has her under his constant care and protection, Nicole aka Virginia explains to him that mentally ill is not synonymous with emotionless. In fact, she is still very much alive:

If I were thinking clearly Leonard, I would tell you that I wrestle alone in the dark, in the deep dark and only I can know, only I can understand my own condition. You live with the threat; you tell me, you live with the threat of my extinction. Leonard, I live with it too. This is my right. It is the right of every human being. I choose not to suffocate in the anesthetic of the suburb but the violent jolt of the capital. That is my choice. The meanest patient, yes, even the lowest is allowed some say in the matter of her own prescription. That by which she defines her humanity. I wish, for your sake, Leonard that I could be happy in this quietness but if it is a choice between Richmond and death, I choose death.

And, after this intellectual discussion, we watched a few hours of Family Guy and Who Wants to be a Millionaire reruns. I love the contrast of my life.

P.S. I update the lists below when I accomplish things...

Lists

2010-07-19T16:32:00.009-04:00

Looking back at the summer I've had so far, I can't deny that a lot of it has been spectacularly boring. But that doesn't mean I haven't tried! There's been a lot of books, a lot of cooking, and, oh yeah, a ten-day trip to see this:

And this:

...and honestly, what can compete with that? (Oh, and the exceptionally cute Wyoming waiters. Did I mention that there are far more men in Wyoming than women?)

But, for the most part, I operate best under a scheduled regime, which is probably why I've been making so many lists this summer. Most of them are to-do lists commanding me to finish cleaning out my closet and desk, which I happily ignore. But a few have strayed from the norm. My friend Brandon, a movie aficionado, and I recently drew up a list of the following movies that we must see together:

-Frida

-The Hours

-Far From Heaven

-The Birdcage

-I've Loved You So Long

-The Cider House Rules

-Moonstruck

-Hannah and Her Sisters

-Rachel Getting Married

-Brokeback Mountain

-Requiem for a Dream (with Mr. Laura)

-Pan's Labyrinth

-Moon

-Dances with Wolves

-The Godfather Part III

-The Graduate

Most of these are movies that one of us has seen and we want to show the other person. As you might have guessed, the ones in red are the ones we've watched. Yes, we have a long way to go. Don't judge us. Did I mention that Brandon is on a mission to watch every Oscar Best Picture winner? We're such busy people.

About a week ago, I realized that my to-do lists weren't doing me much good, so I completed a master list one morning in bed. (I always seem to complete my lists in bed. Does anyone else find that you're so much more optimistic in bed in the morning before the world quashes all your plans for the day?)

Goals Before Summer's Out

-Balance checkbook: Somehow, I haven't balanced it since...hmmm, checking my checkbook...pun!...March. I is the good financial guru.

-Become the Don of NYC on the Godfather for PS2. Defeating the Barzinis means I'll take over the game!

...well come on now, people, I had to have something on this list I'd actually be motivated to do.

-Make at least one artisan chocolate: From my new cookbook, aptly titled Making Artisan Chocolates. It's one of those pretty cookbooks where you look at the pictures and never actually use it. I'm thinking of starting with the chocolate truffles.

-(Mostly) complete movie list with Brandon: See above. I added the "mostly" when I realized how many hours he works.

-Complete one short story

-Plan some kind of Team Awesome summer reunion: Team Awesome is what a group of my Large-East-Coast-Public-University friends and I call ourselves. Original title, no?

-Finish The Picture of Dorian Gray: It seems that every time I sit down to read it, it reminds me of food. Or other books. Or friends. Or daydreams. Or anything other than itself, because it's such a boring read. I know, I'm an English major. Crucify me.

-Read Growing Up: A family friend gave me this as a graduation gift last year, and I've never had the time to read it. It looks great though.

-Read one more book for pleasure: Before I succumb to my fall review of Brit Lit, Cape Cod Lit, and possible "What is Literature?" lit.

-Spa day with Kirsten. You remember Kirsten, don't you? Well, the legendary best friends have barely seen each other all summer! We've decided we need a day at the spa to catch up! It'll be fabulous! ...if our wallets can take it.

-Best birthday ever!: No explanation needed.

-See [insert names of various friends from home whom I haven't seen all summer]

-Aunt Laura Day!: This is way, way, way too good to explain in a simple list, and so you'll learn about it later.

-Email Large-East-Coast-Public-University housing office: For minor housing concerns, as you might have guessed.

-Apply to be a Peer Tutor for school: Hey, I need to get a real job at some point.

-Lose two pounds: From the Freshman 7 or 8 that I gained.

Oh yeah, and this final gem:

-Restart my blog.

P.S. Enjoy the new layout! I find it a lot easier to read.

If nothing else, a new way to slice your bread!

2010-07-18T13:09:00.000-04:00

At the end of an email (ok, Facebook message), my friend Mia added this saccharine little snippet:
"Also, you should start writing in your blog again. You are seriously slacking."

First of all, see what I did there? I added the word "saccharine" where it doesn't even belong, just because it sounded good. Saccharine: sentimental, cloying, sugary, sickening. I only looked it up after I used it, because it was such a darn good word right there. Too bad it was the wrong word.

Anyway, all questions of word choice aside, I've been putting this off for way too long. Why? I've used every excuse, from "I don't have time for a blog," to, "I have no working camera, and no one wants to read a blog without pictures!" Psh. That never seemed to stop me before, Google Image Search willing. To my credit, I've had a busy/exciting/rough first year of college, but now it's time to focus on what makes me me, not just freshman survival tactics. This blog is me.

This morning I wanted a piece of bread for breakfast. Like any normal almost-19 year old, I decided to slice it on top of a cookbook, which prompted the following conversation:

Mom: Laura, was there any reason you had to slice your bread on top of my new grilling cookbook? We have cutting boards. We are civilized people.

Me: I know, but I'd just get another cutting board dirty, when cutting it on top of your book saved me a lot of trouble. [Wise reasoning, in my opinion.]

Mom: L-A-Z-Y, that's what you are.

...and then she laughed. Proving I have the best mother ever.

But when it comes down to it, yes I've been busy, but I've also been lazy with this blog. And, in the year to come of discovering myself, I am determined not to be lazy. And I am also determined that I will not make this blog post a long promise-of-why-I-will-never-cease-writing-again.

I'm off to make Sunday soup.

The Living Zombie Procrastinates Again!

2009-10-26T22:20:00.001-04:00

Dear reader,

I want to post. I want to tell you all about my D.C. trip, and my new experiment that I started today, and pumpkins, and Halloween, and all sorts of other things.

But, right now I'm so tired. So, so brain dead. Between the traveling during the weekend and a lot of schoolwork for the past few days, and another trip tomorrow, I can't focus on a post. And that's not fair to you, or Zola. I need to be able to focus to do a coherent blog post.

Tomorrow I will go on a music trip with choir. And I'll be back Thursday! Hopefully I can update you then on all that's going on. Right now, I'm going to finish packing and go get some sleep. Thanks for sticking with me.

Good things come in threes

2009-10-23T14:59:00.000-04:00

Three things on the agenda today. For all of you, that is.

1. First: let me make something clear. The overall view of this blog is to explore Émile Zola's quote, which I talked about in the first post, and how I can live life like that. That does not mean this will be a blog entirely focused on, say, having children.

I'm not going to lie, that would be an interesting blog:

"Cute guy looked at me and smiled on the way to class today; does this mean we're destined to make babies together?!" "Invited out for coffee! One more step closer to having children WOOHOO!"

No no no no no, dear reader. I don't even know if I want children at this point. I'm in college. I'm not even sure if they allow babies at college. I'm still at the point in my life where the idea of children makes me want to hide in a cave, or better yet, go live in Antarctica. There are no children in Antarctica.

That said, I also won't be starting every blog post with, "Have I planted a tree today? Have I completed my masterpiece?!" Those are goals, dear reader. I'm working toward them, but this is about exploring my life. The actual philosophy of Zola is just an overview. I never really thought about it, but I guess someday, far into the future, if I accomplish those goals, the blog will be done.

I wouldn't have brought this up, but when I wake up and check Facebook before going to class, and the first thing I see for the day is a wall post reading, "Laura, I don't want to have children..." I know I've got some explaining to do. Capeachy? Capeachy.

2. I am considering...an experiment. *thunder thunder lightning lightning DRAMATIC MUSIC*

I can hear you right now: "Way to be elusive with the ellipses, Laura." Silence, reader! I am not going to tell you about the experiment right now, because I want to do research first. HOWEVER! Should I decide to go ahead with it, I'll be sure to blog and tell you all about it. It's pretty drastic (well, for me it is) and involves using myself as the subject. *thunder thunder lightning lightning*

Now that the paragraph of overdramatic DOOM is out of the way, let's move on to #3, shall we? I promise, it's pleasant.

3.

Favorite quote: "But once, in college, I dated a menorah." Oh, Bill Hader. Je t'aime. LET'S GET MARRIED SO WE CAN MAKE BABIES AND I CAN FULFILL ONE PILLAR OF THE PHILOSOPHY OF ZOLA! BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT THIS BLOG'S ALL ABOUT, RIGHT? RIGHT?! ...right?
Have a nice weekend.
P.S. Oh yeah, I'm doing that relatively minor thing this weekend where I TOUR THE WHITE HOUSE. Think of me in there, chatting up Obama and all. I don't know if we're allowed to bring cameras in, but I'll at least tell you all about it!
P.P.S. Just looked up Bill Hader. He is, in fact, married, and just had a daughter earlier this month. Apparently he mouths hello to his wife and daughter during the closing credits of SNL (and no, I'm not a creeper at all. It was on Wikipedia). Awww. Let's have a gooey family love moment for Bill Hader.

Things I learned in college

2009-10-22T18:17:00.001-04:00

...besides what you read in textbooks. You'd be surprised how much knowledge doesn't cost $99.95 at the campus bookstore. (Unfortunately, professors don't seem to buy into this.)

1. Converse may make your feet look cool, a la New Kids on the Block, but they are not good walking shoes. Plan to buy many Bandaids for your blistered feet. And while we're on the subject of shoes, clogs aren't good for long distances or up hills, flats will make your heels cry out in agony and turn purple, and flip-flops get dirty and wear out really fast. Just fyi.

2. Unless you're a naturally filthy person, or you make a habit of this and you stink after three days without bathing, people typically won't notice if you don't shower before going to your early morning class.

I'm not saying make a habit of it, but if you need to roll out of bed and throw on some jeans every now and then, people don't care. Especially in a lecture hall setting. Repeat after me: THEY DON'T CARE. They're way too concerned about themselves. This rule may not apply if you attend a prep school of 1200 students that judge your brand of sweatpants.

Not to mention, this gives you an opportunity to shower over your lunch/afternoon break, which is a lovely, lovely experience. I could write a whole post about this. You get your favorite stall (and come on, we all know you have a favorite stall). You can take 20 minutes moisturizing, picking out your outfit, etc. You're not rushing anywhere. You can dry off in sunlight. I'd still wear shower sandals, though.

3. Get to know your adviser. If you don't like him/her, get a new one if you can. A good adviser is the person who will point you in the right direction when you have one of those days where you love the arts but you want to make money and you were good at chemistry in high school, so maybe you should major in that? but you've never taken psychology so maybe that's a good option, but you don't want to waste your elective credits that you're planning on using for sign language and Harpoon Skills 101.

Yeah, anyway, sit down with them. They'll draw you up a plan. Speaking of electives, #4...

4. You can take an elective in almost anything, especially at a big school, like my Typical-East-Coast-Large-Public-University.

Sometimes, though, you have to be in a certain major, or have a certain prerequisite course. If this happens, beg. Talk to the prof and tell him that your uncle was famous for harpooning whales in Alaska, and you always admired your uncle and wanted him to teach you the trade, but he never did because he thought it was too dangerous and he didn't want to see his niece/nephew get hurt. Ask if you can sit in for a class and have a syllabus. Sometimes, if they see you're putting in the extra time, they'll add you to the roster.

If this doesn't work, cry. That seems to get the job done.

5. You will get addicted to Facebook. Even if you swear you won't. Even if you give yourself a limit to the number of times you can log on per day. Even if you say, "Well, I won't comment on anything, so no one thinks I'm a creeper who spends my life on Facebook." You might eventually break yourself of the habit, but for a while, Facebook will be a good portion of your life.

6. No matter how awesome your classes sound when you pick them out, you'll probably be sick of them by the middle of the semester.

Unless, of course, you're taking Harpoon Skills 101.

Love does, indeed, die

2009-10-20T21:13:00.005-04:00

Love never dies.

For you, dear reader, that may be the most romantic thing I could ever possibly type. For you, that sentence may conjure up images such as this:

Or this:

Or even this:

(I hate The Notebook, so I was gritting my teeth the entire time I was posting that picture, but that's another story for another time.)

Go ahead. Have your dreamy romantic moment of goo. I'll wait, before I crush it with sarcasm.

For me, however, the phrase brings this to mind:

(Okay, so I'm a little cynical, let alone morbid. Bear with me.)

But for Mr. Andrew Lloyd Webber, apparently, this phrase conjures up a musical. AND NOT JUST ANY MUSICAL, FOLKS! THIS very special show is none other than the sequel to Phantom of the Opera.

...yeah, I heard your gasp. I don't know if it was a gasp of horror or delight, but it was definitely a gasp. And, like your reaction to the phrase "Love Never Dies" versus mine, we're all going to have different viewpoints on this one. Some of you will be overjoyed. Some will hate the very idea. You can probably guess which category I fall into.

Anyway! As you might have guessed now, the sequel will be called Love Never Dies, and will open in London's West End in March, followed by a U.S. opening in November 2010. There's been a lot of buzz about it lately, mainly because there was a sneak preview at the beginning of the month, as well as a press conference held by Webber himself.

The plot? I'll try to write this without any wisecracks. Ten years after the events of PotO (not the Irish name for marijuana), our friend the Phantom arrives at Coney Island, where he terrorizes Americans. In vain, he hopes that his beloved Christine will come find him and be his, because he knows that...Love Never Dies. Also a major role is Gustave, the 10 year old son of Raoul and Christine.

Wow. I actually typed all that without cracking up.

I can just picture Webber summing all this up at the press conference:

ALW: (in a British accent) ...and so, that's the basic premise of the show.
*clap*
ALW: (nodding toward audience) Thank you, Mum. So, ah, any questions?

Reporter: How much was the loan for?

ALW: ...I beg your pardon?

Reporter: When you went to buy your new jumbo jet, and you realized while counting your cash that you didn't have quite enough, how much did the bank agree to loan you? That is, until you thought up a new crap show to pay it back?

ALW: It was a cruise line, actually. Which reminds me, after the conference, I've got free gift baskets of tea and caviar for everyone.

They also offered a preview of one song, "Till I Hear You Sing Once More," which you can find here, along with the website for the show. I don't deny it would be a very pretty love song, BUT NOT FOR THE PHANTOM AND CHRISTINE, DAMN IT.

I could go on a long, long rant about all this, but I'll spare you, and instead, give you a few study questions to ponder, like those kind you find for reading groups in the backs of your novels:

Study Questions (not to be attempted unless you've read this blog post and seen the preview video):

1. Describe the character of the Phantom. Would he really want to live at Coney Island for the sole purpose of terrorizing Americans on the boardwalk, who are busy buying taffy and all that, when he's really a genius architect/artist/musician/composer/whatever else Madame Giry said?

2. For that matter, how does the Phantom scare people? Jump out from behind ice cream carts with a "Boo"? Takes off his mask under the pretense of trying on Coney Island sweatshirts?

3. Upon watching the video, how did you react when you realized that the Phantom has had his face fixed? If you were Christine, would you leave Raoul for the newer, sexier Phantom? Is this shallow? Why?

4. What role do you think Gustave will play in the new musical? Do you find it a bit hard to believe that a ten year old could travel across the Atlantic Ocean to consort with a mysterious murderer without his parents noticing?

5. What makes the Phantom think that Christine would ever show up at Coney Island to see him again? Or, putting yourself in Christine's shoes, did she judge him too harshly for trying to kill her fiancé and murdering others?

6. And, lastly, how much money do you think this show will make Andrew Lloyd Webber? Will he be able to afford his cruise line? Or is this to gain back some of the dough he lost when he and Sarah Brightman divorced?

Please, if you know the answer to any of these, let me know.

Hey, I enjoyed Phantom of the Opera. I grew up with the music. I saw it on Broadway. I own the movie. In high school, the choir kids and I put on a Phantom-themed show for Halloween. (We were all a bit obsessed, if you want to know the truth.) But this? This is ridiculous.

Case in point: at the press conference, ALW said something like (I'm paraphrasing here), "I was never satisfied with the end of Phantom. When the Phantom leaves, we all want to know what happens after the show. I could picture some people leaving and wanting their money back, saying, 'This Webber guy is crazy!'" Here, he gives a nervous chuckle, at which no one else laughs.

Well, MR. Webber, most of the time I would actually agree with you. However, in this case, the end was the end. No one wanted their money back. It was good music. It was a good show. People wondered what happened to the Phantom, sure, but that was part of his mystery, and we all accepted it. THE PHANTOM DOES NOT GO TO CONEY ISLAND. HE DISAPPEARS. END OF STORY.

Not to mention, if you were that unsatisfied with the ending, Mr. Webber, why would you wait 24 years to rectify the situation? It's not like you have a day job.

Well, I'm done. Except for this, Mr. Webber: People may have very different opinions about your show, but contrary to your belief, some love does, indeed, die.

And I still might go see it. Eventually.

THE BEST BLOG POST OF ALL TIME!

2009-10-18T23:23:00.001-04:00

Guys...this rocks my socks.

Actually, so does this:

But really, Kanye, your music is still awesome.

Of Bumbles and Best Friends

2009-10-17T14:29:00.001-04:00

So. For the past two days, the Abominable Snow Monster (fondly referred to henceforth as the Bumble, a la Rankin Bass) has been turning my Typical-East-Coast-Large-Public-University into a winter wonderland:

...or rather, a winter slushland. It's so strange to see brilliantly colored autumn trees covered in white, and patches of green grass that those colored autumn trees protected from the Bumble.

Now it's just doing a misty rain thing. Gross.

The good news: I don't have to trudge out to the Homecoming game in this icky wetness (no tickets, and there's no bitterness there at all--I didn't really want them. Shhhh.)

The bad news: My best friend in the whole wide world, who goes by the name of Kirsten, just texted to tell me her planned visit today is not happening. Suddenly my day is reduced to online shopping for Underarmour and catch-up reading.

I can postpone that, though! I'll take a trip down memory lane to tell you about how I met Kirsten (unless you are Kirsten, in which case, you already know). It's kind of an interesting story.

Kirsten and I aren't the typical best friends that met in kindergarten, shared our lunches in elementary school, fingerpainted each others' names in art class, dressed up in sparkle jeans and went to awkward middle school dances together...none of that.

In fact, the first time she recalls seeing me, we were both at a meeting for middle school choir, and she was annoyed that I was a dumb seventh grader talking during the presentation. Thank goodness we didn't actually meet for two more years.

I entered high school as a quiet (imagine that) freshman knowing almost no one (I'd had the typical eighth-grade-falling-out-with-friends that summer). BUT I was in choir. (Yes, I was THAT kid. Refrain from being judgmental. I actually kind of liked it.) And in choir, we used to have students get up to do warm-ups and announcements and that sort of thing.

One day in September-ish, a tall girl with long, curly brown hair, a cute skirt, and a mellifluous voice taught everyone a tongue twister:

Articulatory agility
Is a desirable ability
Manipulating with dexterity
The tongue, the teeth, and the lips!
(repeat, many times, going faster each time)

(My memory's actually not that amazing; I've recited it many times since for theatre.)

Kirsten and I didn't actually meet then, oh no. That's just when I became aware of her. She's pretty awesome, I thought, to be able to get up there and teach everyone that so easily. (She later revealed she felt like the biggest dork.)

From there, our friendship came together in pieces. I actually don't remember this, but she recalls trying on Halloween costumes at the same time after school in the girls' bathroom and realizing that we liked a lot of the same things. "We're pretty much the same person!" she cried. I vaguely remember being excited about this.

Our friendship was cemented, though, when Kirsten and I, and a few of our friends, stayed after school to chill and wait for the football game that night. (All right, fine, I'll admit it: we were decorating the choir room. Remember, NERDS.) I hadn't been planning to stay, but Kirsten had convinced me, last minute. "You don't really want me along," I'd said, and she and another friend had replied, "Yes, we do." That was all it took.

Anyway! That night we bonded, I found out she was a vegetarian, and we decided that we had to watch Titanic together (neither one of us ever had seen it). A weekend or two later, she came over to spend the night. At 4 AM, we were still up...playing Barbies. Yep, we'd found a tub of my sister's Barbies and were using them to mock everyone at school. That began the first of our countless inside jokes.

The next weekend, I spent the night at her house, and we finally saw Titanic. She might think differently, but I think we were pretty much cemented from then on. Four years later--that's hard to believe--we know pretty much everything about each other, and we never get tired of talking. In fact, we spent most of the past summer together. And we have oh-so-many inside jokes, I don't think I remember them all.

In short, if she was a man, I'd marry her. We're best-friend-soulmates (and I don't even believe in soulmates). And even the Bumble can't stop us.

Oh, and Kirsten, if you're reading this..."I got you coffee." "Yeah, well I got you a pony!"

Snow-Crossed Lovers

2009-10-15T19:11:00.001-04:00

Often this fall, as I leave breakfast or walk to my classes, I see this:

(an artistic rendering, of course) and thank my lucky stars that I get to go to a school that's so gorgeous in autumn.

However, smack in the middle of October and two weeks before Halloween, THIS IS UNCALLED FOR, STATE COLLEGE:

That's right. Snow. And I'm not talking a few flurries either--that's a picture from when I went to dinner, and it's kept going since then. And they say it'll keep on till Saturday. It's supposed to stick around until next week, when the temperature will suddenly shoot up into the 60s.

Sheesh.

When I was little, I said snow was God's dandruff (which, in retrospect, is pretty gross). If that so happens to be true, USE HEAD AND SHOULDERS, GOD.

Of course, while I existed in various degrees of dampness and gloom today (the whole "Snow! It's so pretty!" thought process lasted for about five minutes, after which I had to walk several miles downtown to get dresses hemmed. Not a great idea. I actually took the bus there, which I warned you before is an ordeal in itself. For some reason, I decided to walk back, which was an even worse idea.), I couldn't help but congratulate myself for going to see the School of Theatre's production of Romeo and Juliet last night.

I didn't take that, by the way, although I wish I'd brought my camera, but that is a real picture from the event. You can find the whole write-up here.

But really, it was an excellent version of the classic love story, even though I could barely stand to walk away at the end. For the first time, even having performed in it, I felt emotionally connected to the tale of the star-crossed lovers. Of course, it was all senior theatre majors and MFA candidates, so they've been pretty rigorously trained.

Still, though--still. At the end, I felt something tugging at my cynical heartstrings. Also, I think there's something in the original play where the Capulet and Montague families reconcile at the end. They didn't have that here--which leaves the ending uncertain if Romeo and Juliet's death taught them anything. I really liked that aspect.

The reason I could barely stand, in case you haven't read the write-up, is because it was outside--like a Shakespeare in the Park event, except it was at the Alumni Center. They built a stage and a trellis in front of the Alumni House, and for the balcony scene, Juliet sits on a window sill from inside and Romeo climbs up the trellis to talk to her. For another scene in Juliet's bedroom, her bed was center stage and Romeo climbs "in" from the house. Excellent scenic design.

And, of course, there was the surreal experience of watching a show where you could recite every line of a particular character and knew exactly what he would say next. This, of course, was Mercutio, whom I portrayed in my high school's production last year. (That's a completely different story.)

I actually completely forgot where he came in, until everyone was dancing to the Capulet party (and this was where I wished I had my camera: there was a contagious Mardi Gras feel, with a giant jester's head on a pole, and people dancing a la Sandstorm and singing).

What was it like? Well, first of all, this 'Cush (as people fondly called me) had an awesome top hat. I was jealous. Apart from the hat, it was intriguing to see how the actor--who is an MFA candidate and a TA in my theatre class--took the same part that I had and created a whole new character.

From Theatre 100, I knew the guy could be funny, and he was. He interpreted some lines differently than I did (he even caught an innuendo that I hadn't and played it up), but I was surprised by how much we did the same. We both had some of the same sarcastic moments, teased Romeo in the same way... it was surreal.

I expected, after seeing it, to worship his portrayal and think about how I could have done this and that...but strangely, I didn't. I think we both played the character well to fit in with our directors' interpretations of the show. For instance, some of the choices he made--like being extremely hungover and hiding from the SWAT team after the Capulets' party--would not have gone over in our version, which was post-Civil War Texas, North vs. South.

Is that conceited, to like his and my interpretations equally well? I was more of a hothead. He was more of a clown. I feel like you could take the character either way. In any case, I'd be fascinated to discuss it with him--and since he's my TA, maybe I'll get a chance to.

I'm quite willing to discuss this more (Lord Capulet, for example, was brilliant), but I won't go on and on--if you want to hear more about it, comment/message me. Trust me in knowing it was well worth losing the feeling in my legs for.

However, their performance tonight was cancelled, due to the snow. What is it with snow wreaking havoc on Romeo and Juliet? Last year, our opening night almost got cancelled and we were missing some actors due to an unexpected snowstorm.

The lesson here: if you want to put on R&J, do it in the summer. In Miami. Or, if you just want to see Penn State's version, go here. You'll have to install Silverlight, but it's not that big of a deal, and it'll be well worth it.

Rumor was they were putting it on at the Playhouse Theatre tonight (a good thing, since Juliet wears a slip for most of the show), and although I'd have loved to see it again, I'll settle for the webcast. A day and night in the slushy snow does not a happy Laura make.

Hail to the Chief

2009-10-13T21:02:00.001-04:00

I know I just posted...but I just found out...guess where I get to tour?

Yeah...off to have tea and cookies with my dear friend Barack :D Maybe he'll let me try on his Nobel Peace Prize Medal.

Ugg or Ugh?

2009-10-13T17:26:00.004-04:00

I'm not much of one for exercise, but I do pride myself in that I walk a lot. I take the stairs instead of the elevator, I park my car a decent length away from the store (and save myself from fighting for parking spaces), and I take walks with my family. That said, I don't really have much of a choice on this campus. Most of my classes are 15-20 minutes away, and the bus system...well, let's just say that, if I needed to get to the hospital and the ambulance broke down, I'd sooner hitchhike.

(It actually isn't that bad, but when they say it's 15 minutes between buses, they don't mean five. Or 10. They mean 15. And you know that as soon as you walk up, odds are the bus you need has just pulled away and you'll end up waiting the full 15.)

So, needless to say, I do a lot of walking. Hmm...now I'm curious...let's figure this out:

20 minutes to class (or back) x 6 times per day x 3 days per week=360/60= 6...
40 minutes to class (total; I summed up my Tuesdays and Thursdays in my head) x 2 days per week= 80/60=1.33... add those together...

So, I walk 7 1/3 hours to class alone each week. Not that I mind most days. I put on my iPod, hit shuffle, and people watch. But there's another factor: lately, it's been getting cold. And from what I've been told by locals, soon it will be very, very cold. Joy.

So, I must keep warm. And while I have a coat, gloves, scarves, hats, something else this season has been attracting me...something I previously scoffed at...something it would take 7 1/3+ hours of walking to make me seriously consider... (This sounds like the buildup to a horror movie...)

That's right, Uggs. Previously used by me as the butt of many jokes, such as: "It's no wonder where they got the name. What else would you say when you see someone wearing a shoe that ugly?" Last year, my friend Zoë and I used to spend our senior aide period counting the number of people in the high school hallways who wore them, which we would report to the teacher we were helping out. We called it the "Ugg Count," and laughed many a time about who would spend so much money on such an un-stylish shoe.

Until I tried one on, last March, on one of those icy days that makes you wonder why March isn't just listed as a continuation of February on the calendar. I tried on my friend Mia's Emus (a knockoff of Uggs) at a Starbucks outing, and hot damn, they were comfortable. They let my feet breathe while simultaneously caressing my peds with their soft, woolly goodness. I sighed with happiness...then took them off. But they never quite left my mind.

Now, on campus, people are breaking out the Shoes of Woolly Doom, and I've begun the Ugg Count again. Only now, instead of scoffing, I'm looking at them longingly. Those sure would be some awesome shoes to tramp around campus in, come January and February. And anyway, who says they have to be stylish? I've never been the Fashionista of the World, and no one seems to like me any less. (Side note: If you do, in fact, hate me because I'm not the Fashionista of the World, I'm sorry. Keep reading my blog anyway.)

Writing this, I'm curious how much Uggs are. I'm off to check the website. Be right back.

$140?! Are you kidding me?! This, to the girl who considers Gap splurging. (I'm not kidding--while I'm not Amish, I'm really not the Fashionista of the World. It wasn't modesty.) I'm not going to lie, that new knitted design with the side buttons is pretty darn cute. I'll take a pair in light blue, please. Or maybe I'll just check the Emu site, remembering Mia's tip.

Ok, so they don't sell them directly through their website, but Planet Shoes sells them for between $78 and $89. Not great, but better than Uggs. I'm the type that likes to go against the brand name, anyway, so this might work out.

We'll see about this Ugg/Emu thing. I'd be interested to see what others have to say about them... In any case, I find it interesting that both brands contain "Australia" in their official label. Why would you wear these in the Land Down Under? Does it ever get cold there?

Purely Hypothetical

2009-10-12T19:20:00.000-04:00

My statistics prof brought up an interesting point the other day:

Why doesn't Tarzan have a beard?

Don't Ya Just Know It (A Case Study in the Blues)

2009-10-12T13:52:00.000-04:00

I was going to write a post yesterday about my ridiculous Macbeth notes, or this picture, but to make a long story short, my parents called.

Ok, so that needs some explanation. See, I attend the Typical-East-Coast-Large-Public-University, the kind that everyone expects you to attend because it's in-state (and therefore, affordable) but still pretty well-known for churning out decent degrees in every category you can think of. You know the type. We do the football thing and the school spirit thing and the rolling admissions thing. You can probably think of a few fine specimens, and hey, I won't deny it's a decent education. But that's all I'll say about that for now.

Anyway, I'm a freshman at this Typical-East-Coast-Large-Public-University, and being separated from home and family and all has been a bit rougher than anticipated. I'm pretty tight with my family, and being separated from them for this long, on a campus with about 40-50,000 strangers, has taken its toll. After a visit with them last weekend in which I used up no less than half a box of tissues, I was in no hurry to talk to them again. Of course, that means they inevitably called yesterday:

*Zombie Nation plays on my phone. I look at the number, sigh, and pick up*

Dad: Hi! How's school?
Me: Fine *mumble mumble mumble*
Dad: You sound kind of down.
Me: Just tired. Mumble mumble.
*Awkward silence*
Dad: Well, I love you. Here, talk to your mother.
Mom: Heyhoneyhow'sschoolhow'slife?
Me: Mumble.
Mom: You sure sound down. Cheer up.
Me: I'M FINE [or was until you called] mumble.

I'm having a hard time with this separation thing. Either I'm clingy and don't want to stop talking to them, or I don't want to talk to them at all because it reminds me that I miss them. Needless to say, after that fun conversation, I was in no mood to blog. Or do homework. Or take a walk. Or do anything but procrastinate and grumble.

So, Macbeth/ the mysterious picture at the beginning of the post will have to wait...

"I never saw such a woman."

2009-10-10T16:10:00.000-04:00

"Oh! certainly," cried his faithful assistant [Miss Bingley], "no one can be really esteemed accomplished, who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half deserved."

"All this she must possess," added Darcy, "and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading."

"I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any."

"Are you so severe on your own sex, as to doubt the possibility of all this?"

"I never saw such a woman."

~Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice (Chapter 8)

In the movie from 2005, Elizabeth actually says, "I never saw such a woman. She would certainly be a fearsome thing to behold," and I actually like that better. Sorry Jane Austen.

I have to admit, I never saw such a woman either, and I've seen many women (and men) I admire. Maybe it's the fact that we're far too busy--women nowadays actually go to school and get degrees and all that--but still, that's quite a bit to accomplish.

Although the character of Miss Bingley makes me giggle, I'm more inclined to follow the philosophy of French writer Émile Zola. You see, once upon a time, earlier this year, I finally bought a copy of my favorite book of all time, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. (More about that later. For now, READ IT.) I picked up the Harper Perennial Modern Classics version, which comes with, "insights, interviews, and more..." in the back.

Along with the biography of author Betty Smith and a piece by her daughter was a short essay by Betty herself, entitled, "Fall in Love with Life." In it, she quotes Zola: "'To have a child, to plant a tree, to write a book.' That, he said, was a full life!" (I should break out the internal citation rules, but I won't.)

I was as struck by that quote as Betty was. In a world of far too much to accomplish, far too many things to do, it really is that simple. A successful life can consist of those basic three pillars: doing something good for the world (planting a tree), completing a work (Betty interprets "writing a book" as, "a symbol for any constructive job, honestly done," and I agree with her), and raising a child. Thank god for that succinct summary.

And so, my mission: to live a full life, by Zola's standard. Some of it will have to wait (I'm not planning on a child anytime soon). And I won't try to carry it out all at once. But now it will be in the back of my mind. Hence, this won't be a blog of, "What-can-I-do-today-to-make-my-life-successful-and-productive-GAH." But it will be an interesting experiment.

Here we go. And maybe, along the way, I'll end up resembling something of Miss Bingley's "accomplished woman." But she still makes me giggle.

Photo from enchantedserenityperiodfilms.blogspot.com