So here I am sitting, about to write that I recently cut my hair and half of my femininity with it when my friend tells me she loves it. That makes me feel good. I know that for a lot of women, cutting their hair is like cutting off an appendage but for me it was simple: I don't want it and little kids who lose their hair need it so I'll give it to them. But with that comes a sense of insecurity: Are people judging you on your hair? Ridiculous. But as a woman who's been told her whole life that she's attractive, I've questioned if I still am. I went through this before when I had my hair short. Do men still think I'm pretty? Do women? Do people think I look like a boy? A child? A lesbian? But ya know, there are so many more important things to worry about, why spend my time scrutinizing myself in the mirror? Why not worry about those kids who have no hair? Why not worry about my own health. It just proves we live in a vain society obsessed with looks. Looks are what get you respect and what makes people think you're an interesting person. I know it because I've fallen into the trap too. The first person to grab my attention in a crowd is a good looking one. I want to learn about that person, talk to them. And the cliche goes that beauty is skin deep. Everyone thinks that good looking people have no heart, soul, personality, intelligence etc. Like God gave them good looks and gave all other qualities to the other people. There again lies a prejudice. We look at attractive people and think, "She's a snob", "she's so dumb", "he's only interested in sex", etc. And it's simply not true. I just wonder what side of the coin is worse -- being underestimated for being less attractive or for being more so?

Long time since I wrote. To busy to write. Too busy to write complete sentences. Still struggling through Q. Been reading short stories by Poe, which I like for the most part. A bit anticlimactic though. So there I am on the edge of my seat, pulse racing, sweat on my brow, anticipating what will become of our hapless hero as the pendulum descends upon him when BAM! he cuts loose and escapes! And who IS the Mask of Red Death? I want to know! I NEED ANSWERS! In the meantime, I'm biding my time with crossword puzzles, the fall TV lineup, and sleep. Oh, yes sleep. The doctor says 12-14 hrs. a night but I just can't do that so all I do on my days off is sleep. There's something terribly wrong. I need to cut my hair but I don't know if it's long enough to donate yet. And I want to lose weight so I don't look like some pinhead on a marshmallow body. Bad mood. Tired. Must sleep....yawn.....

OK, so I haven't written in more than a year so bad me, but I haven't really kept in contact with many people who used to read it so I don't know of anyone who'd be interested in what I have to say anyway. But here goes: Since this site is supposed to address life, literature, and the pursuit of pennies, let's start with the easy one. Pennies. I have found that the pursuit of pennies, although fascinating to me, is quite boring for others who have to read about it in search of the juicy stuff. So I'll just say I found six random pennies at work the other day--a very good day. Literature. Well, I can't remember everything I've read since I last wrote, but I do keep track in my very own Reading Woman journal. Worth mentioning is The Master and Margarita, by the Russian author Bulgakov. Good book and great for me because of my obsession with literature about Satan. Really existential and abstract though so prepare yourselves. The Red Tent is good although very much a woman's story. Though it doesn't fall in to the category of a sappy romance novel, there are ultrafeminine elements that make this book a bit nauseating. Speaking of ultrafeminine, The Girls: Sappho goes to Hollywood, is terrific.  Although I knew some key players in Hollywood's golden gay era, I was surprised to read how many there were and how much one circle of women shared partners. So now I'm in the middle of Q about the Protestant Reformation and it is a long complicated intricate story. I'm struggling with it although it is very well written. Life. Well sometimes life sucks. Sometimes it's great. The End. Just kidding. I think I do have a couple of interesting life stories to tell at the moment. Well, let me begin with my lupus. It's getting worse and more things are coming into the picture that complicate things. I hate the term fibromyalgia. It's a trash can term to explain pain that is unexplainable and it doesn't exist. Now I might have tendonitis which is inconsistent with lupus but goes hand in hand with rheumatoid arthritis which is what my dad has. There is something seriously wrong with my right foot and my back but I don't know what yet. I've started yet another pain medication which isn't really helping and basically everything hurts all the time. But I try to keep my spirits up with another trusty medication--Zoloft--which saved my life. And I'm also on a new exercise regimen that helps a little. I need to sleep 12-14 hours a day which is impossible so I take naps whenever possible and I'm on a sleeping medication. I tried to take Ambien for a week, which the doctor told me would mess with my dreams and make them really vivid. My dreams are already really vivid so I was kind of looking forward to it. But it didn't work. Anyway, about my dreams. (This is the good stuff right here). For the past few years I have some interesting things going on with my dreams. First, I began having a recurring dream every night where I couldn't walk. One or both of my knees would lock up and I couldn't move. I'd have to grab my own leg and unbend it so I could move again. The dreams became more extreme to where I couldn't move them at all or stand on them. I was completely paralized. Now it wasn't one dream with one situation. For 2 years, no matter what I dreamt, where I was, who I was with in the dream, and whatever was happening I became paralyzed. I don't know if it was to do with a literal physical hinderance I feel because of the lupus or if it was something psychological going on that I felt I was being held back, but I don't have that dream as often anymore. Now it only happens once or twice a week. Next dream situation. Ever since my grandmother died on my birthday 5 years ago, I have a dream that she's still alive and we all just thought she was dead. And we tell her we thought she was dead and she says, "No, I've been here the whole time and you just didn't see me." My mom says that's her way of communicating with me telling me that she's still with me even though I can't see here. Next dream situations: I can hover over the ground and when I leap once, I can keep myself moving forward but not touching the ground for like 50 yards. I can also breathe underwater. Next: About a year ago, I had a breakthrough in my dreaming. In my dreams, I can actually ask myself if it's a dream or if it is real. My dream self would actually stand there and take a survey of my surroundings, look at my hands and body, touch and feel myself and say, "Yeah, this is really real. This is not a dream." This went on for months. Finally one night, I was dreaming that I was standing at a table in a restaurant with a bunch of girls from my elementary days all grown up. I took stock of everything around me and realized I was dreaming. To wake myself up out of the dream, I began jumping up and down in this dreamland restaurant and I woke up. I think that takes a lot of talent So if anyone out there is a dream analyst and wants to tell me what it all means, I'm all ears...or eyes as it were. Thanks for reading.

Since I last wrote (really wrote--not that blurb about the armored truck) I've only read three books: Flesh and Blood by Michael Cunningham, Passing by Patricia Jones, andThe Biograph Girl by William Mann. I've come to the conclusion that bad things happen to good books. With the exception of Cunningham's novel, they all end much too tidy and sappy. But Cunningham's has its own problems. For example, not one character is comfortable with his sexual identity or in a healthy relationship. Being gay, Cunningham lacks the ability to understand and write about straight characters. They are either repressed or stereotyped as being rather dull and prudish. And there are points when the narrative becomes a script for a pornographic novel--not that I don't love a genuinely steamy sex scene ;) but it just becomes outrageous and monotonous in its own way. But I would still recommend the book as it is well written and atypical of many of the "Oprah Book Club" stuff that is out there today. Now, Passing sounded like such a great book. A family of light skinned blacks struggles with their own prejudices against those with darker complexions and less affluent lifestyles. And it has its moments of brilliance. But all of that is overshadowed by a truly cheesy love scene pulled straight from a Harlequin romance novel (not that I would really know, but I can imagine). The scene drags on and on until finally, at the moment of climax, I got nauceous and had to run to the bathroom. Finally, The Biograph Girl, my favorite so far. Based on a true story of Florence Lawrence, the first film star, this book is chock full of great stories and references to old movies and movie stars (right up my alley). As a bonus, the author has expanded on this woman's real life and true events and somehow turned her life into a murder mystery (Florence Lawrence committed suicide in 1938 and this novel asks the question did she really?). Still, the relationships between the young film people and the 107 year old woman border on oversentimentality the likes of which Tuesdays with Morrie addresses. Flo is just too spirited, unique and inspiring and everything ends so perfectly that it makes me like the suicide story better. You may notice that I don't really enjoy things that are sappy and unrealistic. As for my next projects, I've restarted Dostoyevsky's The Devils after 335 pages that now seem a complete blur. And I've begun reading a book called Angels, an Endangered Species. Speaking of angels, I can't wait to see Constantine as it is sure to feed my obsession with Satan, Hell, Heaven and Angels. That's it for now. Loz Out!

I heard on the news this morning that an armored truck flipped over on the highway (somewhere), spraying the road and the surrounding countryside with thousands of rolled coins. Oh how I would have loved to have been there to gather up all those pennies.

I found seven pennies yesterday -- six when I was walking to my car and one between classes. They were a bit dirty considering all the rain the last couple of days. But I don't let that stop me. I didn't report all the pennies I found in L.A. over my Thanksgiving break, but it was a lot. You know what I don't like? When someone else says, "Hey Lo, there's a penny." Or someone else picks it up and gives it to me. I just can't get excited about it. I don't get that feeling of accomplishment that I do when I spot one myself. So, I had my last class yesterday but I'm not quite done. Two papers and two finals and that'll be it for me. I'm a bit depressed about the whole thing and it bugs me that all my friends keep congratulating me. Don't they know that school is so much better than work? But, I once felt the way they do. Except for my friends who are older and did what I did. We know what's beyond the walls of the university and it's not always pretty. I'm also getting a bit jealous of my friends who are starting to apply for graduate school. I wish I could do the same, but I have to start contributing financially. It just went by so quickly and even though I tried to absorb everything, it all seems like a blur. The sixty or so books I've read in the last year are the only things I remember ... That's not true. I met some of my favorite people and the best friends I've ever had. I learned from the most extraordinary professors. I learned things about myself and opened my mind to different ideas. And I have finally become the person I always wanted to be thanks to all these things. I know it sounds sappy, but how can one speak about such a profound experience without being a bit sentimental. Anyway, I'll still be offering my insights into penny finding, literature, and my new life as a contributing member of society.

I just found out that the U.S. Mint is planning to change the look of the penny come 2009. I'm going to have to start preparing myself now. One of the spokeswomen for the campaign said, "All of us Americans have a great affection for brand new shiny pennies." Is that true? I thought I was the only one!

I just realized I mentioned the age of 30 in my last two posts. It's like my biological clock is ticking, but not for a baby, for a career.

As the end of my college career once again approaches, I am once again at a crossroads. What am I going to do in my life? Since I returned to school to pursue a degree in English, I have wanted to go into editing. I still would love to do that. The problem is that it is difficult to find the kind of editing positions in Tucson, much less Arizona. But, for the time being, I must stay here for health reasons. Plus, if we ever decide to have kids, I want them to be near their grandparents. Of late, Brandon has been encouraging me to look into a career in law enforcement. The problem with that is, I don't think I want to be a real cop, just a T.V. detective like my favorite character on Law & Order: SVU! Does he really think I could be Olivia Benson? So I said: "Um, I'm approaching 30 soon and have already wasted enough time finally getting the degree I want AND discovering what I want to do." Would I really want to spend time testing for the police academy just to become a traffic cop or event security guard? I think not. Besides, my family already has one law enforcement agent in the family who is in a relatively dangerous position. He's been shot at and deals with crazy people everyday. I don't need my parents worrying about both their children--even if I were just a traffic cop! I'm happy to take any other career suggestions, though, if anyone has ideas!?

Here's the thing. I'm graduating in a month. In order to graduate, I need only complete my 496 Senior Seminar. I also decided to take three other classes "for fun." I recently received the Academic Distinction Award. I've been writing sufficient papers for the nine years I've been in college (off and on). Now, I'm receiving a B in Sherry's class and a C! in Berkhout's class. Sherry tells our class last Thursday: "Some of you are going to have to learn how to write a paper very soon." Now, if I'm one of those students to which he is referring, I'm in big trouble. How am I to learn how to write a paper in the last month of my academic career? And how to I expect to make it in a career which demands the same? What's a girl to do? I mean, I'm almost 30 (in a couple years) and I haven't even begun to embark on a "real" career. And if I cannot even perform to the best of my abilities, how much more schooling will I have to endure to feel competent enough to begin a career? Sometimes ambition sucks...

I've been finding a lot of pennies lately but haven't written anything about them because there is no interesting stories surrounding the fact that I found a penny in front of the coffee shop or whatever. I will say that I recently past up a dime. A dime just doesn't have that beautiful coppery sheen like the penny. And here's the other thing, since I've never explained my self discovery of why I like pennies so much: Pennies are small, generally under-appreciated, deemed almost worthless because of their limited spending value. People even throw them away, or if they drop one, obviously they don't feel it worthy to be picked up (which is good for me but so sad for the penny). The reason I suppose I feel so strongly about this is that I myself am very small. I often feel overlooked and ignored. I feel that my value as a person is assessed by my size, just like the penny. Many times people judge me because of my height. There is a stigma in America that "Taller is better." Taller people demand respect, are more successful, are more attractive, are more intelligent, blah blah blah ... or so we are meant to believe. I hate that phrase "tall, dark, and handsome." And even though my husband is all those things, what about all those short guys out there with so much to offer? I'm just glad I'm a woman who is short, even though I hate words like "cute" and "perky" that go along with describing petite women. As for shorter men, that must be a horrible existence. I myself am attracted to short men, even though I married a 6'3" gentle giant. Actually, there was a guy in my French class this summer for whom I developed quite a crush. He was probably only 5' tall, perfectly proportioned, good looking, smart, nice, etc. But a lot of the other students described him as having a "Napoleon complex." Why must every short guy have a Napoleon complex? My brother doesn't, but he has had to overcome the obstacle of being 5'7". He's quite successful with the ladies and in his career, but he was ridiculed as a teenager. And because he doesn't share a lot, I'm not sure all he's had to endure in his adult life, but I can imagine, as I've had to endure a lot myself. From pennies to petites ... how did that happen?

Well, it's done. The first paper of the semester. Whew! However, I would be more relieved if I thought it was any good. As usual, my argument is clear and the paper organized. But is the argument good? Well, it's in the hands of the gods now. Or more specifically, Charles Sherry. Speaking of Sherry, I think I may be including him in a lot of my future posts, as I find him to be quite intriguing. And as he doesn't have the same charm and electricity of Scruggs (whom I love and adore), I like him. Which brings me to my story: Yesterday while waiting in line for my coffee, Sherry comes up behind me and we begin a conversation. He tells me that he belongs to some sort of list serve (some of the facts may be muddled as he is so soft spoken, he is hard to understand sometimes) of a group of administrators (?) who want to put professional student evaluators into the classrooms who will report to the professor what students are really thinking. I said, "That's ridiculous. If you really wanted to know what they're thinking, you could just ask them." He agreed, but said the people who came up with this idea think that students will not be as honest with the professor as they would with their peers. I didn't agree with this and neither did he. Still, what bothers Sherry most (which doesn't really bother me) is that he feels this would be some sort of violation of students' privacy. And I'm sure a lot of students would agree. It seems they will take issue with and protest anything just to feel they are being heard. Which brings up an interesting contradiction. If students are so eager to be heard, then they should embrace the idea of someone to represent a universal voice on their behalf. The fact is that young people, and the young at heart like Charles Sherry, feel the need to revolt against "the man", Big Brother, and the like. And although our world calls for order and systemization, it's nice to know there are some crusaders out there to stir things up a little.

In yesterday's post, I realize that I was not being completely fair to my beloved professor. My focus and critique should be on the student who keeps reiterating the fact that Sherry is a "harsh grader." What the hell does that mean anyway? Are students so blind to their own incapabilities as to think that if they receive a poor grade it must be due to the professor's harshness? This particular student keeps suggesting to me how to write a paper. He tells me, "Just make sure you're clear and organized." Really? I hadn't thought of that! This from a sophomore who hasn't nearly the experience I have had in writing analytical, theoretical, critical, etc. papers. I know I've only been an English student for little more than a year, but does he honestly think this is my only writing experience? It seems my fellow students have very little confidence in my writing abilities as this is not the first time I've been given such profound advice. I've come to the conclusion that this student, and many others, tailor their writing to how they think the professor will grade. If the professor seems laid back, they will not make as strong an effort as they should. I'm proud to say that I approach each paper, class, professor equally no matter what I assume their attitude to be. If that makes me a better student, so be it. If not, at least I can live with the illusion that I'm a good writer.

I feel the need to write, as I am about to embark on my first attempt at writing this semester and I am extremely nervous. I just feel like I've lost it. The ideas aren't coming as easily and the writing is proving to be quite a struggle. I no longer have the usual confidence I have when going into a paper. I don't know this professor, I haven't talked to him outside of class, and I've heard terrible things about his grading process. I hope to prove these bearers' of bad news wrong by producing an exceptional paper, but I admit I'm a bit intimidated. I have a feeling the professor deems me to be somewhat of a ditz. The very first day, Sherry began discussing the ways of the world and marriage and love and relationships. He kept looking at me rather intently and finally asked if I didn't agree with him. I was taken aback by his bold questioning and as I did not agree with him, I sort of laughed and said, "I guess," or "I don't know," or something equally eloquent. Ever since, the routine has been much the same. He continues to make intense eye contact with me and then ask me questions to which I have no answer. It's become a joke in the class now, as I am the only one he calls on other than the students who eagerly raise their hands in desperation to be heard. He first explained that I sit in the middle and he has no peripheral vision. Then he claimed that I always have a look on my face to suggest that I have something to say. He mused, "Don't look at me like that." When I finally said, "I'm the wrong person to ask these questions," he said, "that's strange, you always look like the right person to ask." It has been suggested that he noticed my wedding ring and since the class discussions seem to be particularly focused on the institution of marriage and the nonexistence of romantic love in the world, I might want to pipe in. I don't think that's it. It's also been suggested that he has a crush on me. I can't believe that's true either. No one has crushes on me. Someone also mentioned that it's just the opposite and he doesn't like me at all because perhaps he overheard a political discussion I was having with another student. I really don't believe that. Nonetheless, I feel I have to prove myself to this professor more than any other I've had. I'm going into this completely blind and hope to come out with a greater insight into the mind of this man.

I feel inclined to express some thoughts that have been manifesting in my mind since the start of the semester. I notice that I tend to understand myself and others more if I am able to convey my thoughts through writing. Yet I fear that my patience for the subject at hand is so thin, that I might abandon all efforts to mete it out. Last semester in college, my second full semester since returning to university, I formed some strong friendships with people I actually find interesting and enjoyable. This is a difficult thing for me to do since I am terrifically shy. However, my anti-anxiety medication has aided greatly in subduing this problem. Now, most of these friends are men, over the age of 25, and either divorced or single. This is not a problem for my husband, nor the other males as they have all met and get along famously (of course this could be a fantastic delusion on my part, but everything seems fine). I did form a bond with a girl last semester who is a Spanish literature grad student from Costa Rica. And although her intellectual level is beyond that of many of my undergrad friends, she is nonetheless, very young and not privy to the ways of the world. Not that I am old enough to have formulated a jaded POV of life, but I've been seen some stuff! ;) And although I am still quite young and full of hope and expectations, I also have a realistic outlook and a mature grasp on life. This brings me to my point. This semester proves to be quite a struggle in terms of social relations. I seem to be thrown into a mix of the standard stock of college students who think they know everything about anything and are not afraid to say so. My dad's dad always quoted the saying, "You can always tell a teenager, but you can't tell 'em much." And although a few of the students are barely out of their teens, this saying holds true. I often wonder what judgements the professors make about such students. Do they, as I, secretly sneer at them and sadly shake their head at the thought that these children are the future? I hope so. Because I feel that if anyone can get through to these kids, its a college professor. Students respect them more than they know and are begging for some guidance, someone to bounce ideas off of who will offer some valid feedback. Professors seem to be the only adults in the world that kids trust and don't automatically assume are full of shit.

I almost declined to write on this subject, as it borders on a diary entry rather than given my highly regarded opinion on life, movies, books, etc. ;). But I just have to vent. I've recently finished a summer school session of my accelerated French course in order to fulfill my language requirement. I speak, read and write moderate Spanish, but with the appeal of French films, I decided to try to learn French academically (as I am also teaching myself Italian at home). My first two semesters in French were great. I had a lot of fun and learned a great deal and just as with Spanish, I find myself slipping into French for some phrases when I speak. However, this summer course, which is equivalent to two semesters jammed into four and a half weeks, was grueling. I really love TA's. I've always had pretty good experiences with them, even though I'd rather have a professor teach my class. And I've always loved summer classes. Things are more laid back, students tend to bond more, and the teachers tend to make things fun. Not this time. I will not mention names, but my French teacher is a middle-aged woman who lived in France for twenty years, married a Frenchman, raised two children in France who refuse any connection to America, and has recently returned to the States and to teaching in this country. That sounded really exciting at first. We would learn so much more about our area of study because we would receive first hand knowledge. But what we really learned is how the French system works, and how petty the French are. For example, we were given a quiz on the second day of class. No one did well and as she was handing back the quizzes, she said that they were so bad, she didn't even record the grades so not to worry. However, she did record the grades and factored them in to our final grade. She lied to us! I mean, the guy that sat next to me received a 3% on it! Ok, so we had weekly role plays where we were to choose a partner and prepare three skits based on subjects provided of which one was chosen. The instructor asked me,"Laura, do you speak fluent Spanish." I said that I used to and asked why. She told me I have a Spanish accent when I speak French. I grimmaced and expressed concerned and she laughed and told me that it was fine, not to worry about it. Then on the following role plays, she docks me based on that accent. And really, it's only one word I say with a Spanish accent: "que"-- pronounced kay in Spanish and kuh in French. Otherwise, she praised me for my accent during regular class sessions. OK, next, we had a rough draft due on the same day as a role play. She specifically informed the class that if we had to choose which assignment to work on, to do the role play because the rough draft would not be graded. The next day, she tells us that we need to do peer evaluations of our rough drafts to be turned in for a grade. Most of us did not have a rough draft, only the brainstorming and outline. She said that at the beginning of the summer session, she had told us that the rough draft and peer evaluation would be counted for a grade. But this wasn't the first time she had changed her mind about something so we took her word for it that it would NOT be graded and then suffered the consequences of her whims. I did very well on the rest of the assignments, receiving A's on the tests, writings, the paper, and one of three quizzes. The rest, I received high B's but every time she would give me my grade update, it was a high B and it made no sense. I expressed concern early on and asked what I could do to ensure an A in the class. She told me the paper would determine that for me and that I had to do well on the paper. I showed her a rough draft everyday and worked on her suggestions every night. She had also told me that the fact that I didn't have the peer evaluation wasn't a big deal as it was only 2% of my participation grade (which was 8% of the total grade). So, I received a 98% on my paper. And going into the final, she claimed I still had a high B. I expressed my confusion and disappointment, but still hoped for a good grade on the final to get an A. After my oral exam Tuesday, I asked about my grade once again. She told me she couldn't give it to me. And I asked if I might speak to her later about it, hoping to "appeal" to her sense of compassion. She misunderstood the word "appeal" and immediately assumed that I planned to officially appeal my grade. She became angry and shut me down then and there saying I had no case, that I am a B student and I had a bad grade on my peer evaluation that was hurting me. This, from the same woman who I talked with many times and who claimed she cared about me and my grade and would consider my interest in my performance when it came time to grade, if need be. I became so flustered that I left. I received my grade yesterday and I have a B in the class. I have to say, that I am completely soured on the whole "French thing." Note to all teachers (my mom also): Being strict is one thing, as long as you're consistent. Do not make false promises and flip flop on issues. And for this particular teacher, get of the power trip. Stop relishing in the fact that you hold the power to make or break a student's career. I will still graduate With Honors without the stupid French A, so know that the only thing that was accomplished is that yet another graduate student has given a bad name to all TA's, not to mention the French.

As you'll notice, I've changed the look of my blog because I love BLACK!  Once I saw a template with black, I said "That's me!"  Ok, on to more interesting subjects.  I've seen some wonderful films on DVD lately, but at the theatre it's been a different story.  Actually, I shouldn't generalize, as I've only seen "King Arthur" since the "Spiderman" incident.  The film was OK.  After reading a few versions of the legend and viewing several adaptations, there was some frustration involving the new version.  Most of this stems from the fact that Jerry Bruckheimer produced the film.  I try to avoid his productions, but as this film starred the lovely Keira Knightley, I could not resist.  Yes.  I admit.  There are just some women for whom I question my heterosexuality and she is one.  So, it didn't bother me that Guinevere is portrayed as a warrior traipsing around in a Xena inspired leather outfit with an abundance of exposed skin covered with Braveheart inspired woad paint.  No, that part was just fine, as were the battle scenes.  In fact, the cinematography was quite impressive.  What bothered me most was the trite dialogue to be expected from the narrowminded, unimaginative writers of Bruck's films.  What a joke!  In fact, this film tried so hard to be "Braveheart" that I had to laugh in parts.  There is hardly any character development, nuance among relationships, or coherent storylines.  The battle scenes would have been much more impressive if they were more violent and graphic like "Braveheart," but instead everything is only indicated.  Anyway, finished with the ranting and raving about the mindless aspects of Hollywood "entertainment," I will shift my attention to more worthy films I have encountered.  "The House of Sand and Fog"-- what a film.  I know that it is based on a book (which I haven't read) but I have to believe this film does the story justice (as did "The Hours" to Michael Cunningham's novel).  This film moved me to tears without such an expectation.  It's not one of those sappy chick flicks that says, "Oh, here's where everyone's going to cry" and they cater to that notion.  This is just pure human emotion being played out on film in a way that ceases hold of the audience and says, "You can't ignore this."  Wonderful performances all around and especially by my new favorite actress Shoreh Aghdashloo who joins my other favorite, French veteran Fanny Ardant.  Next is "In America."  It's fun, moving, bittersweet, honest... The little girls in it blow me away.  They are not your typical child actors who are cute and precocious.  They are acting machines and know how to capture an audience.  Again, I wept, but in a truly joyous moment of the film.  I was just so overcome with emotion.  Now, know this:  I am not someone who cries at any film.  I actually cannot remember the last film for which I shed tears.  Perhaps "Life is Beautiful" from 1997! As for my reading, I have not been able to keep up as I am completely consumed by my accelerated French class.  I have decided to set aside the Dumas book as it became much to painful to spend my summer trying to overlook its misgivings.  I have taken up a new book (new to me) called Surprised By Joy by C.S. Lewis.  My dad loaned it to me last fall when I began to speak of my religious struggle.  I'm hoping this will serve as a support and guide for my personal story.  I still pray to God about it (as my faith in Him has not wavered).  Maybe reading books like I, Lucifer, Angels and Demons, and The Da Vinci Code wasn't such a good idea for a confused, tormented, and fallen away young individual like myself. 

Well, I've been very lackadaisical about posting my penny adventures as well as my reading endeavors. I've been trying to catch up on my DVD rentals and Law and Order:SVU re-runs (I'm totally addicted!) So, I'll post on the movies I've seen recently. I saw Cold Mountain, Along Came Polly, The Butterfly Effect, and finally (!) Bend it Like Beckam, which is my favorite of them all. Growing up as a soccer player, I truly appreciated this film and it made me want to get back out there and kick the ball around. Also, I loved the Indian background, due to my quick study of India last summer. I have a lot of respect and admiration for their culture. The music was great, the costumes were beautiful and it was both funny and moving. Cold Mountain was good, a little slow in parts but definitely worth a watch for the sake of Renee Zellweger's (sp?) performance. She has come quite a long way from Empire Records and even Jerry Maguire. I didn't like Along Came Polly. I just thought a couple of parts were cute, but I tend not to like Ben Stiller movies because he's either acting like a total moron or he's a victime in situations that I don't find humorous (Meet the Parents, Something About Mary). However, the last two films both feature Philip Seymour Hoffman and I think he is a phenomenal actor. Butterfly Effect was surprisingly good. I don't really appreciate Ashton Kutcher's "humor" but the script was intense, smart and the acting was pretty good. One movie I want to recommend to all, which I saw when it was FINALLY released on DVD, is Don't Tempt Me (AKA Sin Noticias de Dios, Sans Nouvelles de Dieu). The movie stars Penelope Cruz in the best performance she's ever given as an angel from Hell, sent to Earth to vie for the life of a boxer with an angel from Heaven. Hell takes place in a dark, dingy, sweaty train station and cafeteria with horrible fluorescent lighting and everyone speaks English. On Earth, everyone speaks Spanish and Heaven is in black and white, 1930's/40's Paris where everyone speaks French. My favorite actress, French veteran Fanny Ardant plays a manager in Heaven who sends the angel because Heaven is struggling for more souls. There is also a whole thing in there about J.D. Salinger and the best part of the film is how these actors are able to speak multiple languages. Simply amazing. The script is so clever and funny and almost like a good Tarantino film (none of this Kill Bill stuff--sorry to those who like it). Think more like Pulp Fiction. Not to be missed is Cruz's dance to "Everybody was Kung Fu Fighting."

I finished The Da Vinci Code last night. It was a great book. All my positive comments of Angels and Demons carry through to this novel. I think A & D is a better book for one reason: Da Vinci seemed somewhat anticlimactic to me. I don't want to give anything away to anyone who hasn't read it so I'll stop there. Still, there are so many great ideas and issues addressed in Da Vinci that it should not be missed. I'm going to try finishing the Dumas novel as well as The Celestine Prophecy which I started last summer, but had to set aside for a while in order to keep up with reading for school. I sold some books yesterday at Bookman's and bought a biography of Sarah Bernhardt. I haven't decided yet if I believe in reincarnation, but if I do, I think I'm her. When I was as young as two years old, my parents used to call me by her name because I was incredibly dramatic about things. That love for drama followed me through elementary school, jr. high, high school, college, and even now. I started acting in school plays in 1st grade and began my first time at college as a theatre major. I soon moved on to art when things didn't work out, but have participated in community theatre to quell my desires for the stage. While pursuing my degree in art, I discovered an artist named Alphonse Mucha, who introduced the style of Art Nouveau to the world. He instantly became my favorite and I have displayed his work in my house. I also have a limited edition lithograph, signed and numbered by Mucha's grandson from the Mucha foundation. I soon discovered that Mucha was Bernhardt's favorite artist and that she commissioned him to design all her theatre posters. He went on to design all her jewelry as well. And the icing on the cake is that she and I have the same birthdate. I can't wait to read more about her to learn what other similarities we have!

Well, I haven't written anything in a while because I was out of town, haven't found any pennies, and have been busy reading. Since my last post, I finished two books and am in the middle of another and beginning one as well. I didn't write anything on The Venetian's Wife because it is such an odd book that is relatively unknown. It's not very long and is full of artwork, collages, designs, etc. It's somewhat of a mystery involving Indian (as in India) art, religion, symbols, etc. It was a quick easy read ... good, but weird. Then I moved on to A Knight at Maison Rouge by Alexandre Dumas (my favorite). The work was thought lost for and has recently been discovered and published with a new translation. I'm thinking "YEA!" Then I start reading it, and it's terrible. Not the story per se, which is a story of Marie Antoinette, with whom I hold a strange fascination. The translation by Julie Rose is disgustingly shameful. She has put in modern colloquialisms, slang, casual speak--nothing like the Dumas to which I've become so attached. I'm still bearing through it for the sake of the story but it's torturous. Meanwhile, I started and finished Angels and Demons in two days. The predecessor to The Da Vinci Code, this book was one of the most intelligent, clever, and searing novels I've read. My love for art and art history is indulged by the many references and descriptions, as well as background and meanings, behind some of the most well-known artists of the post-Renaissance period. And my own and tormented conflict and speculation with religion and the Catholic church (in which I was raised and taught) is brought to light. However, both sides of the debate of religion vs. science are given equal time, care and respect. And both sides make very good points. Unlike what many are saying of Dan Brown's work, I do not find the book to be an attack on religion and Catholicism attempting to persuade people away from the church. I find the story to be purely entertaining, based on some fact and grounded in an intelligent analysis of today's world. Can't wait to start The Da Vinci Code!