There's been a lot of discussion going on in the offices of Auteur lately, and it centers around one of 2007’s surprise box office and critically acclaimed smashes, Juno.
You see, my 30 something (nearly 40, I’ve been told, although he doesn’t look a day over 39!) editor was not enraptured with this quirky, often engaging film. Dealing with the subject matter of teen pregnancy, he saw it through the lens of being a father, having a daughter, and imagining himself in the title character’s parents’ shoes. Granted, some of Juno MacDuff’s dialogue is sassy at best, downright disrespectful at worse, and today's youth probably don't need that to mimic.
But this little mouse of a movie, that has roared both at the box office and with the Academy, receiving 4 noms and taking home the Best Original Screenplay gong, has certainly struck a chord, no matter how you look at it, and hopefully, been the impetus for much dinner table discussion between parents and teens.
I can see my editor’s point though, about the suitability of Juno, and I can appreciate his sensitivity. And yes, I agree with him that they could have toned down the dialogue considerably, and been less assumptive about 17 year olds' sexual awareness. But in the end, the movie attempts to demonstrate that decisions have consequences, and sometimes with no escape, and the subsequent pain of living with one’s decisions, being brave in the process, and trying to do the right thing in the end. Whether they hit the mark for teens is what my editor and I debated the most.
The story is about a highschool Junior, Juno MacGuff, who gets pregnant and decides to give the baby up for adoption. The story line is just that simple, no special effects, horror scenes or shooting rampages, just a pregnant teen and the decisions she has to make.
If going to see this movie, my feeling is that it should be seen by teenagers WITH their parents. It may very well be a discussion starter about a subject most kids are touched by in some degree these days, whether as parents we like that or not. There are some mature scenes due to the topic of the movie, and there are some scenes that really fall into the Audience Alliance 'if only' category, and the PG-13 rating is deserved. It might deal with the taboo of teen pregnancy, but it is one film that tries hard to address the problem in a graceful way. Viewers will need to decide whether it achieves that or not.
As we are transported into Juno’s rapidly complicating life, and faced with a very unexpected pregnancy, she considers terminating. She decides to go to an abortion clinic and on her way in, a schoolmate is outside protesting. Once inside Juno has a change of heart and walks out, realizing that an abortion wasn't right. The look on the schoolmate’s face is priceless, when she realizes her protesting actually worked.
Juno is not trying to glorify teen pregnancy, but also seems to skim over the harsh realities of life for the expectant teen mother. Whilst it shows a girl learning from her choices and not running away from her mistakes, it also misses a full disclosure of the agony that this situation creates. It does however, demonstrate a positive approach and attitude from Juno's parents as they receive the shocking news, which is admirable. But as for teaching the youth how to avoid the situation in the first place, it remains silent. But even so, there are lessons to be learned from Juno that are definitely needed today.
This film was original to say the least. The dialogue was witty, but often confronting. The characters were genuine and situations heavily tinged with reality. Ellen Page, who plays Juno, did way more than just deliver dialogue, and was nominated for an Oscar in the best actress category for her efforts. Other supporting players also carried off their portrayals honestly and often admirably, with special mention to Jason Bateman.
The film, which has grossed more than $100 million and benefited from the Oscar-nomination bubble, ended up taking home an Oscar for Original Screenplay. Not too bad for a little film that thought it could.
*****This was a review written for an uber conservative film company*****
Monday, June 2, 2008
Graduation
I promise I didn't forget about my blog, I just got a wee bit caught up in things going on. I graduated from the University of Utah on May 2, 2008 in Mass Communication - Public Relations. It was awesome. Honestly, if you ever get a chance to graduate from college, participate in your commencement ceremony and graduation activities. I don't think that it would be real that I am a college graduate if I hadn't. The Nobel Prize winner: Mario Capecchi spoke (I am not sure how to spell his last name). It was one of the best things I have ever done. Now I think I'll move on to a master...in what I am still not sure. I think I'll get some work experience first.
Also graduating isn't all about my accomplishments, rather the help, friendship and guidance from my family, friends and teachers. I couldn't have done it without everyone that helped me when times were rough. So thanks you for your help and especially for your love, you know who you are!
Also graduating isn't all about my accomplishments, rather the help, friendship and guidance from my family, friends and teachers. I couldn't have done it without everyone that helped me when times were rough. So thanks you for your help and especially for your love, you know who you are!
Saturday, December 8, 2007
GO UTES!!!
I LOVE College football, the NFL, not so much. This is just a post telling my Utes, good luck at the Poinsettia Bowl in San Diego on December 20!!! Beat NAVY, show them how what it means to bleed RED!!! 8-4 not the best season that we've ever had but I'm still proud of my Utes. Swoop - I'll see you there! Also I'm stoked we're going to San Diego - I get to go back home all because of the greatest college football team EVER! Brian Johnson, take it easy til then... Mack Truck do us proud and knock some of those Navy players on their A$$es. The MUSS I'll see you on the 15th in the Huntsman center for another great Basketball games.
And in closing:
I am a Utah man, sir, and I live across the green. Our gang, it is the jolliest that you have ever seen. Our coeds are the fairest and each one's a shining star. Our yell, you hear it ringing through the mountains near and far.
Who am I, sir? A Utah man am I A Utah man, sir, and will be till I die; Ki!Yi! We're up to snuff; we never bluff, We're game for any fuss, No other gang of college men dare meet us in the muss. So fill your lungs and sing it out and shout it to the sky, We'll fight for dear old Crimson, for a Utah man am I.
And when we prom the avenue, all lined up in a row, And arm in arm and step in time as down the street we go. No matter if a freshman green, or in a senior's gown, The people all admit we are the warmest gang in town.
We may not live forever on this jolly good old sphere, But while we do we'll live a life of merriment and cheer, And when our college days are o'er and night is drawing nigh, With parting breath we'll sing that song: "A Utah Man Am I".
And in closing:
I am a Utah man, sir, and I live across the green. Our gang, it is the jolliest that you have ever seen. Our coeds are the fairest and each one's a shining star. Our yell, you hear it ringing through the mountains near and far.
Who am I, sir? A Utah man am I A Utah man, sir, and will be till I die; Ki!Yi! We're up to snuff; we never bluff, We're game for any fuss, No other gang of college men dare meet us in the muss. So fill your lungs and sing it out and shout it to the sky, We'll fight for dear old Crimson, for a Utah man am I.
And when we prom the avenue, all lined up in a row, And arm in arm and step in time as down the street we go. No matter if a freshman green, or in a senior's gown, The people all admit we are the warmest gang in town.
We may not live forever on this jolly good old sphere, But while we do we'll live a life of merriment and cheer, And when our college days are o'er and night is drawing nigh, With parting breath we'll sing that song: "A Utah Man Am I".
The Class Pansy
It was a beautiful crisp evening in May and I was on my way to a bridal shower in Silver Creek, a neighborhood in the boonies of Park City. I called my friend Alissa for directions to the house and quickly scribbled them down on a fuchsia post it note and stuck it to my dash. There was no way I’d get lost. I got to the end of my street and realized, crap! I forgot the present. I put my car in reverse and backed down the street, tires crying and neighbors shouting at me to slow down.
Five and a half seconds later I was back on the road. I hadn’t seen most of the girls that were going to be there since we’d graduated from high school. I, personally, liked to keep all of those painful memories of my senior year banished somewhere in the back of my mind only to resurface when someone from the past called up to remind me how miserable I was back then.
Now I was headed back into torture and did so only willing because a few people I held near and dear to my heart would be there and I hadn’t seen them in a long time. I tried to think about other things as I found myself reliving some of the “Fast Times at” Park City High. Nothing really worked so I cranked my stereo so loud that my rear view mirror was vibrating to the beat of the bass.
Twenty minutes later I finally turned onto Red Hawk Road, a dirt road that was so bumpy it gave my back a message. I carefully read the sticky-note, follow Red Hawk all the way to the top, and don’t take any other road. “Shouldn’t be too hard,” I thought to myself. What felt like an eternity of dirt road and only being able to go about fifteen miles per hour, Red Hawk Road made a sudden right. Finally, a change. My car loomed down the steep right and right into the mud. A constant prayer of, “Please, don’t get stuck,” found its way to my lips. Now going at a snail’s pace, my four cylinder car crept through the thick oozing mud that was as peanut butter. One wrong move and I’d be stuck; I really didn’t need to be teased about getting stuck.
I was finally out of the mud; my car definitely needed a wash, now. The road seemed a bit rural for a neighborhood, so I called Alissa to make sure that I wrote the directions down right.
“Hey Alissa,” I said with a bit of an underlying nervous tone, “So I’m not sure I’m in the right place.”
Alissa said to me,“ Well, where are you?” the curiosity getting to her. She had gotten lost with me a lot in high school. I always took the wrong road and never knew where I was at.
“Well there are a lot of trees, mud and an unpaved road, and I’m still on Red Hawk, I turned right when it did, are you sure that is where I’m supposed to be?”
She laughed and her sing-song voice replied, “Look, if you’re on Red Hawk, you’re fine. Don’t be such a pansy.”
I hung up annoyed that she’d call me a pansy, but the truth hurts. I kept driving on the road; all of a sudden, I saw a ditch. Completely puzzled, I pulled my car up to it. It was about a foot and a half deep and about thirty inches across. It was made from the gravel that was being placed on the dirt road. I hit re-dial, completely confused at what to do; there was no way my car would get over that.
I questioned Alissa about the ditch, without even saying hello; good friends don’t need an introduction of who is calling, especially when you just got off the phone with them thirty seconds earlier.
“What do you mean a ditch?” she asked, completely perplexed and probably rethinking how intelligent I really was. I explained where I was and told her I followed the directions exactly. She concluded that I was just being my usual self, a pansy and that I needed to suck it up and just get there. If her little Subaru could make it so could my Cobalt.
I swallowed hard, looked at the ditch again and decided I would prove her wrong. I wasn’t a pansy.
I slowly backed my car up about fifty feet. I looked at the ditch again and muttered under my breath, “If her stupid car can get over this, then so can mine.” I put my car in first and decided from that moment on I was no longer a pansy.
I slammed my foot on the gas and little rocks flew from underneath the wheels. The distance from my car to the ditch was quickly shrinking as my car slowly accelerated. Only forty-five feet away, my breathing got a little faster. Thirty-five feet away, my heart was beating almost out of my chest. Fifteen feet away, my adrenaline was now pumping, my knuckle turned white as they clenched the steering wheel. Five feet left, there was no turning back at this point. I threw a couple of Hail Mary’s, even though I’m not catholic. It was the quickest way I could think to pray. Then suddenly my car was soaring through the air, then, it dropped like a lead balloon. My car’s first flight was cut short as it nosed dived into the ditch.
My heart sunk. I jumped out of my car to assess the damages, thinking that I had massacred it, but some miracle had granted my car no injuries. I got back into the car. I tried to drive it out of the ditch, but it was no use. I tucked my tail between my legs and put my ego to bed. I called Alissa again.
Five minutes later and with Alissa still laughing like a hyena, we drove away from my car as it lay in its coffin. I was defeated. So much for proving I wasn’t a pansy. I would never live this one down.
We finally towed my car out of the ditch and back through the thick mud. As I was driving home that night, I realized that my suppressed memories from high school all involved my silly antics. Until now I didn’t appreciate them. I guess there are worse things to be known as then the class clown or pansy. I could’ve been known as the class princess or person with the best body, knowing that I hit my peak in high school.
These are just a few of my friends from Park City (This was taken at Alissa's wedding in August)
Five and a half seconds later I was back on the road. I hadn’t seen most of the girls that were going to be there since we’d graduated from high school. I, personally, liked to keep all of those painful memories of my senior year banished somewhere in the back of my mind only to resurface when someone from the past called up to remind me how miserable I was back then.
Now I was headed back into torture and did so only willing because a few people I held near and dear to my heart would be there and I hadn’t seen them in a long time. I tried to think about other things as I found myself reliving some of the “Fast Times at” Park City High. Nothing really worked so I cranked my stereo so loud that my rear view mirror was vibrating to the beat of the bass.
Twenty minutes later I finally turned onto Red Hawk Road, a dirt road that was so bumpy it gave my back a message. I carefully read the sticky-note, follow Red Hawk all the way to the top, and don’t take any other road. “Shouldn’t be too hard,” I thought to myself. What felt like an eternity of dirt road and only being able to go about fifteen miles per hour, Red Hawk Road made a sudden right. Finally, a change. My car loomed down the steep right and right into the mud. A constant prayer of, “Please, don’t get stuck,” found its way to my lips. Now going at a snail’s pace, my four cylinder car crept through the thick oozing mud that was as peanut butter. One wrong move and I’d be stuck; I really didn’t need to be teased about getting stuck.
I was finally out of the mud; my car definitely needed a wash, now. The road seemed a bit rural for a neighborhood, so I called Alissa to make sure that I wrote the directions down right.
“Hey Alissa,” I said with a bit of an underlying nervous tone, “So I’m not sure I’m in the right place.”
Alissa said to me,“ Well, where are you?” the curiosity getting to her. She had gotten lost with me a lot in high school. I always took the wrong road and never knew where I was at.
“Well there are a lot of trees, mud and an unpaved road, and I’m still on Red Hawk, I turned right when it did, are you sure that is where I’m supposed to be?”
She laughed and her sing-song voice replied, “Look, if you’re on Red Hawk, you’re fine. Don’t be such a pansy.”
I hung up annoyed that she’d call me a pansy, but the truth hurts. I kept driving on the road; all of a sudden, I saw a ditch. Completely puzzled, I pulled my car up to it. It was about a foot and a half deep and about thirty inches across. It was made from the gravel that was being placed on the dirt road. I hit re-dial, completely confused at what to do; there was no way my car would get over that.
I questioned Alissa about the ditch, without even saying hello; good friends don’t need an introduction of who is calling, especially when you just got off the phone with them thirty seconds earlier.
“What do you mean a ditch?” she asked, completely perplexed and probably rethinking how intelligent I really was. I explained where I was and told her I followed the directions exactly. She concluded that I was just being my usual self, a pansy and that I needed to suck it up and just get there. If her little Subaru could make it so could my Cobalt.
I swallowed hard, looked at the ditch again and decided I would prove her wrong. I wasn’t a pansy.
I slowly backed my car up about fifty feet. I looked at the ditch again and muttered under my breath, “If her stupid car can get over this, then so can mine.” I put my car in first and decided from that moment on I was no longer a pansy.
I slammed my foot on the gas and little rocks flew from underneath the wheels. The distance from my car to the ditch was quickly shrinking as my car slowly accelerated. Only forty-five feet away, my breathing got a little faster. Thirty-five feet away, my heart was beating almost out of my chest. Fifteen feet away, my adrenaline was now pumping, my knuckle turned white as they clenched the steering wheel. Five feet left, there was no turning back at this point. I threw a couple of Hail Mary’s, even though I’m not catholic. It was the quickest way I could think to pray. Then suddenly my car was soaring through the air, then, it dropped like a lead balloon. My car’s first flight was cut short as it nosed dived into the ditch.
My heart sunk. I jumped out of my car to assess the damages, thinking that I had massacred it, but some miracle had granted my car no injuries. I got back into the car. I tried to drive it out of the ditch, but it was no use. I tucked my tail between my legs and put my ego to bed. I called Alissa again.
Five minutes later and with Alissa still laughing like a hyena, we drove away from my car as it lay in its coffin. I was defeated. So much for proving I wasn’t a pansy. I would never live this one down.
We finally towed my car out of the ditch and back through the thick mud. As I was driving home that night, I realized that my suppressed memories from high school all involved my silly antics. Until now I didn’t appreciate them. I guess there are worse things to be known as then the class clown or pansy. I could’ve been known as the class princess or person with the best body, knowing that I hit my peak in high school.
These are just a few of my friends from Park City (This was taken at Alissa's wedding in August)
Unusual Edibles: Definitely not for the Faint of Heart or Weak of Stomach
So, you're tired of potato chips and popcorn. Your usual snacks foods no longer hold the same excitement they once did, like when your mom let you have your own bowl of popcorn in the living room. Pringles stopped being fun in junior high when you realized how dumb the Pringle duckbill really looks. Well, a new snack is on the market and trust me; you need a stomach of steel and the heart of a lion to eat them. Good news: the new age snack of dried mealworms comes in more than just mealworm flavored. BBQ, cheddar and Mexican spice can throw your taste buds for a loop, if you can actually stomach the idea of putting a worm in your mouth on purpose. Larvets: Original Worm Snax are made by a company in California. On the back of the box it lists the top five reasons to enjoy Larvets. I’m pretty sure that I couldn’t find one reason to enjoy eating worms other than seeing the faces on people during their first worm consumption experience. It is priceless and I do suggest having a camera handy so you can capture the moment.
Those of you that actually do enjoy eating unusual things such as mealworms or think you would, should definitely try Larvets. If you don’t like the contents in the box, the box itself is thoroughly enjoyable. The whole box contains only nine calories, perfect for those of you watching your waistline. I first came upon these little morsels at my boyfriend's parent's home. His youngest brother thought it would be hilarious to chase the girls around the house with these edible worms. When we didn't run screaming at the site of them, he decided to dare us to eat one for a buck. I am not that poor of a student; my price is higher than a dollar to put something in my mouth that happens to be my pet lizard's favorite treat. Instead it turned into home style "Fear Factor."
‘Tastes like chicken’ isn’t comforting to me, when what I’m eating isn’t chicken. At first glance these new snacks look revolting and more of a punishment rather than a tasty treat. Actually every time I look at them, tasty let alone edible hasn’t come to my mind once.
Foreign cultures think that the mealworm is actually a delicacy and you can find these critters in the center of some Chupa suckers that are popular in Latin countries. They are also thrown in stir fry in Indonesia and according to BBC News eating a mealworm is actually good for you and can make you feel better (I think I’ll just stick to my daily vitamin).
So I decided to put my Western thoughts and opinions behind me for however long it would take me to eat one of these cheddar flavored mealworms from California. Trying to summon the courage to eat something that I’ve been taught my whole life not to eat and happens to be a reptile snack, took a couple of days to find. The moment was finally upon me, I had a paper to write and a deadline to meet.
I shook one out of the box. I could’ve sworn that it moved. I could see the little legs and the bits of cheddar flavoring in the nooks and crannies of the worm. I rolled it around in my hand a couple of times and wretched a little. I highly suggest that before eating something like a mealworm or any other repulsive dish, to have your favorite drink close at hand. I popped open a can of Diet Coke. Water isn’t good enough (milk or soda are the best to wash it down with). I closed my eyes and down the hatch the cheddar treat with legs went. I think the worst part, was the fact that it was a worm. Also the artificial cheddar flavoring didn’t help. Otherwise it was like eating popcorn, not as good though and it definitely didn’t taste anything like chicken. It left a horrible taste in my mouth once I’d swallowed it. I really thought I was going to lose everything that I’d eaten in the past week.
In my mind anyone who can eat something of that caliber and actually enjoy it deserves some sort of medal or should be examined by a physician. After the matter I do feel kind of cool, I can tell people, "Oh yeah, I’ve eaten a mealworm." Then they can marvel at how daring and brave I am. I’ll just leave out the fact that it took a couple of days to actually do it. I wish I’d been more courageous and just done it, instead of agonizing over it for several days. I could have spent those days brushing my teeth. Although I don’t think I’ll tell my boyfriend that I ate one because I’m sure he’ll never kiss me again no matter how much mouth wash and toothpaste I’ve used.
In my opinion if you are daring and have a stomach of steal these flavored mealworms may be the new delicacy you’re looking for: they could be a great diet food, or they could take care of your cravings for chips. You might enjoy them, although I don’t think I’ll be eating them ever again, even if someone offered to pay my bills for a month, I’d kindly refuse and eat a chip instead.
Those of you that actually do enjoy eating unusual things such as mealworms or think you would, should definitely try Larvets. If you don’t like the contents in the box, the box itself is thoroughly enjoyable. The whole box contains only nine calories, perfect for those of you watching your waistline. I first came upon these little morsels at my boyfriend's parent's home. His youngest brother thought it would be hilarious to chase the girls around the house with these edible worms. When we didn't run screaming at the site of them, he decided to dare us to eat one for a buck. I am not that poor of a student; my price is higher than a dollar to put something in my mouth that happens to be my pet lizard's favorite treat. Instead it turned into home style "Fear Factor."
‘Tastes like chicken’ isn’t comforting to me, when what I’m eating isn’t chicken. At first glance these new snacks look revolting and more of a punishment rather than a tasty treat. Actually every time I look at them, tasty let alone edible hasn’t come to my mind once.
Foreign cultures think that the mealworm is actually a delicacy and you can find these critters in the center of some Chupa suckers that are popular in Latin countries. They are also thrown in stir fry in Indonesia and according to BBC News eating a mealworm is actually good for you and can make you feel better (I think I’ll just stick to my daily vitamin).
So I decided to put my Western thoughts and opinions behind me for however long it would take me to eat one of these cheddar flavored mealworms from California. Trying to summon the courage to eat something that I’ve been taught my whole life not to eat and happens to be a reptile snack, took a couple of days to find. The moment was finally upon me, I had a paper to write and a deadline to meet.
I shook one out of the box. I could’ve sworn that it moved. I could see the little legs and the bits of cheddar flavoring in the nooks and crannies of the worm. I rolled it around in my hand a couple of times and wretched a little. I highly suggest that before eating something like a mealworm or any other repulsive dish, to have your favorite drink close at hand. I popped open a can of Diet Coke. Water isn’t good enough (milk or soda are the best to wash it down with). I closed my eyes and down the hatch the cheddar treat with legs went. I think the worst part, was the fact that it was a worm. Also the artificial cheddar flavoring didn’t help. Otherwise it was like eating popcorn, not as good though and it definitely didn’t taste anything like chicken. It left a horrible taste in my mouth once I’d swallowed it. I really thought I was going to lose everything that I’d eaten in the past week.
In my mind anyone who can eat something of that caliber and actually enjoy it deserves some sort of medal or should be examined by a physician. After the matter I do feel kind of cool, I can tell people, "Oh yeah, I’ve eaten a mealworm." Then they can marvel at how daring and brave I am. I’ll just leave out the fact that it took a couple of days to actually do it. I wish I’d been more courageous and just done it, instead of agonizing over it for several days. I could have spent those days brushing my teeth. Although I don’t think I’ll tell my boyfriend that I ate one because I’m sure he’ll never kiss me again no matter how much mouth wash and toothpaste I’ve used.
In my opinion if you are daring and have a stomach of steal these flavored mealworms may be the new delicacy you’re looking for: they could be a great diet food, or they could take care of your cravings for chips. You might enjoy them, although I don’t think I’ll be eating them ever again, even if someone offered to pay my bills for a month, I’d kindly refuse and eat a chip instead.
Writing
I've decided to pursue writing as a side career. So I will use my blog to post sampless of my writing and you can tell me what you think. My specialties are short stories, so enjoy and I want feedback and criticism.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
All Grown Up Ma
O the simpler times. This is a favorite photo of mine, my friend Katherine and I were trying to make it look like I was naked, I don't know why, but we thought it was funny. That was almost three years ago, at the end of my freshmen year. It is amazing the amount of things that change in such a short time. Now I'm about to register for my last semester of my senior year and to think that I've made it through, is amazing.
I have loved and hated school at the same time. It is bitter sweet looking back and realizing that a "big girl" job awaits me in May and I will have to be a grown up. Although I do want to thank all of my friends and family for helping me through the past 21 years. They have been a huge inspiration and relief. So Thanks for the text messages, the parties, road trips, inside jokes, and just being around. It is the realization that some of the people in our lives wont always be there for one reason or another. So take the time to enjoy the right now, because the people in your life wont always be there. So to all of you seniors out there, enjoy the next few months and when it is time to move on, do so with a smile on your face and gratitude in your heart for people you've met along the way.
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