grandma believes in me

hermanos.

2012-01-28T01:08:00.002-07:00

No matter where you go,
No matter what you do,
Brothers will always be there for you.

ladies and gentlemen....

2011-06-13T01:21:00.001-06:00

The day we all thought would never happen is almost here.

YES, I am going to be married on 25 JUNE 2011. What's more, I will be wed to AURORA GEORGIA FLORENCE. Can you believe it, Grandma? All those prayers have finally PAID OFF. For more information on when and where, click here.

I have two thoughts on the matter right now that are not allowing me to sleep.

First, the loose ends to tie up for the upcoming nuptials. Examples: all of the people that don't have invites yet, the fact that I don't have a suit yet, and that so far we don't know how those ice cream coupons are going to be redeemed.

Second, when Steve Jobs comes out with the iTestament, Hebrews 11 will be updated to read: "And by faith Aurora joined herself to Jeffrey in eternal matrimony. And by faith her parents consented."

And one more thought because who's counting?

I get to marry this girl:

don't worry, i'm pretty sure that's my arm.

up and coming.

2011-03-23T14:47:00.000-06:00

I'm playing this guy in this this weekend.
You can get more info here.

And then this guy in this.
Get more info here.

Bet you didn't know.

2010-12-17T00:46:00.001-07:00

Just a number of interesting things that I bet you didn't know and will never need to know but just might be glad to know when you find yourself on a first-date and the conversation lulls to a painful halt and you've already asked her what her favorite fill-in-the-blank is.

A herd of cattle, a pack of wolves, even a pod of seals, you've heard of, but did you know that just about every assemblage of creatures has its own name? Some of them are freaking awesome and most of them are politically incorrect and discriminatory:

A shrewdness of apes, a prickle of porcupines (do porcupines ever hang out in groups? because that could make for a really negative encounter), a richness of martens, a business of ferrets, a BLOAT of hippopotamuses, a murder of crows, an exaltation of larks (what's so great about larks?), a crash of rhinoceroses, an UNKINDNESS of ravens (spoooky), a shiver of sharks, an intrusion of cockroaches, and a plague of locusts.

I bet sometime someone somewhere had terms for groups of certain types of people. It's best those terms aren't in use, but I can think of some pretty good ones. Like a malediction of mother-in-laws. A festering of lawyers. A warmth of grandmothers.

Ever heard of prosopagnosia? Yeah, neither had I. It's commonly referred to as face blindness and is a legit condition that impairs the brain's ability to recognize faces. And it's not simply having a hard time putting a face to a name; it makes it impossible for you to recognize the faces of close friends, family members, and sometimes even yourself. People with this condition have to use clothing, voices, or gait to recognize acquaintances. Don't believe me? Check out Harvard's research page on it or read Heather Seller's book.

Colors are interesting when it comes to languages. There are no words in the English language that rhyme with orange, purple, or silver. In Romanian not only are oranges called oranges, but tomatoes are called reds. In some Asian languages, blue and green are considered varying shades of the same color. In Italian and Russian, azure is a basic color and is distinguished from regular blue as habitually as English differentiates red and pink.

Thomas Jefferson, who did a lot of great things for this country, introduced french fries to the United States in 1802 when he served them at a White House dinner.

Peladophobia is the fear of bald people. (Sidenote: If you're going to throw this word around, be careful how you pronounce it. Pedophilia is something completely different and not a good conversation jump-starter. At all.)

NOW YOU KNOW.

pas cu pas.

2010-11-16T13:08:00.001-07:00

Word of warning: scroll down to THE POINT if you're short on time and/or less interested in rambling.

The title of this post could also have been 'pas à pas', which means step by step, except in French. In both French and Romanian, pas means step, from the Latin, passus. Yes, Romanian is a Romance language (meaning it descended from Vulgar Latin--the language of ancient Rome, not that it's necessarily going to help you on a date. [Sidenote: it has]). In modern French, pas is used to negate a regular phrase. For example je vais (I go/I am going) or je ne vais pas (I don't go/I am not going). But why, you demand to know, is the word pas, which means step, used to say you're not doing something?

Well, it wasn't always so. You used to only have to use ne to negate phrases, like no in Spanish. But back in the day, to emphasize your point, you would add pas to the end of the example phrase (I am not going) to express the idea that not only are you not going, but you're not even going one step. And you could use other words for other verbs. Je ne mange mie--I'm not eating, not even a crumb. Je ne vois point--I don't see, not even a point. Well, eventually the other words were dropped and pas took control like a totalitarian dictator. See, more often than not in casual conversation you drop the ne and just use the pas (je veux pas)--which loses the original negation all together. (Thank you, Dr. Hurlbut.) Fascinating, huh? OK, maybe just to me.

The fact that you have to use both ne and pas to negate was always something for French 101 students to complain about--Two words? Why can't we just use NE? But if you think French negation is confusing, just try explaining to a student of English why the verb to do suddenly pops up when you negate in English: I see/I don't see.

OK, one more thing about pas and I swear I'll get on with why I'm writing today:
When I was an LDS missionary in Romania, I was stationed with a guy who had just arrived from the States. He was a go-getter and was constantly studying the language. One night we were knocking doors in an old, communist block apartment building which we often found ourselves doing. After knocking twice at a certain door, I started to move on when he stopped me and said, in Romanian, "Wait, I think I hear step-mothers."

THE POINT:

Yesterday I took a big step. Really, it was just a small step that felt like a big step, but life is made up of small steps...

I submitted my screenplay to the LDS Film Festival's feature-length screenplay competition. This means that three producers will read my script. Up to this point, only people who know me have read the script--people who seem to like me and maybe just like the script because they like me. Now three producers that don't know me and probably don't know anything about Alfred de Musset (the guy who wrote the French play that I adapted) will not only be reading it, but judging it. Here goes nothing.

I am also a little nervous because while the script does express certain LDS ideas, having been written and worked on by LDS individuals, it is not a Mormon film. And it maybe swears a couple times. Twice in English and twice in French, if I remember right. And it maybe deals with some more adult situations. Not adult as in adult films but adult as in intense and/or heavy situations. And so maybe it will be disqualified?

No matter what, it was a very rewarding experience just to print off the hundred pages that have taken up much of the last eight months of my life to create, along with chunks of other people's lives. The girl at Kinko's probably thought I needed to be medicated.

What's the next step? Besides a few more revisions, I have an incredibly awesome friend who is doing an internship for a production company in LA that might be able to sneak it in front of her people. And another awesomely incredible friend that has a friend that has a friend that might be able to read it and might work for a very large production company in LA.

So, folks, let's get the ball rolling.

4.0

2010-11-11T23:35:00.000-07:00

Did you know when a cat is lapping milk, it's tongue goes in and out of its mouth 4-5 times per second?

Ever get the feeling that something isn't quite right with Breast Cancer Awareness Month? What about all the other types of cancer? How much of the proceeds from all these pink sugar cookies, pink bandanas, and pink vehicles is going toward something useful? Read this article.

VAI DE MINE, this could have been me. I will never regret not going to law school.

Peter Weir's upcoming film The Way Back looks epic and awesome. You may know Weir from such movies as The Dead Poets' Society and The Truman Show. This is his first movie since Master and Commander back in 2003.

Besides the director and true story aspect, the film is also going to be awesome because it's starring, alongside Collin Farrell and Ed Harris, Dragoş Bucur. Never heard of him? That's because you don't watch enough Romanian movies. He's received numerous awards for his work in numerous award-winning Romanian films (The Death of Mr. Lazarescu, The Paper Will Be Blue, and Police, Adjective) and I can't wait to see how he does in an English-speaking role.

Am I in the women's locker--oh, nope. That's not a woman. That's a dude.

Last week I got paid to turn office supplies into weapons and armor for an office gone Lord of the Flies commercial. I love being on a film set.

I got cast in Born Yesterday at Hale Centre Theatre. The show opens on New Year's Eve.

bon iver.

2010-11-02T10:54:00.000-06:00

Bon Iver - For Emma, For Ever Ago - A Take Away Show from La Blogotheque on Vimeo.

3.0

2010-10-30T04:18:00.000-06:00

With the elections coming up next week, there was plenty to think about. You might want to skip the first few if you don't like politics.

What's the worst thing that could happen to you if you're running for governor in Illinois and trying to secure votes in multiple low-income districts? Ask Rich Whitney. As a result of a typo, or a sabotage according to some conspiracy theorists, his last name, Whitney, was misspelled as "Whitey" on early election ballots. Yep, Rich Whitey. And unfortunately for Rich, it appears as though the problem might not be fixed in time for Tuesday's elections.

You've never voted? Really? Well be warned, I do vote and it's probably not for the people you would vote for. Especially if you live in Alaska and are voting for Joe Miller.

Who's Joe Miller? (This is a little late in the game, but I'm only tweeting once a week.) Last week, Joe Miller, the Republican Senate candidate from Alaska, was asked about controlling immigration in a town hall meeting. He gave a typical response--recommending the fence-along-the-border method, but then cited East Germany as an effective model of border control. As in COMMUNIST East Germany. The BERLIN WALL East Germany. Complete lack of human rights and orders to shoot anyone trying to ESCAPE, East Germany. Maybe I'm just a little gun shy of the whole totalitarian dictatorship thing after living in Romania and interviewing victims of the communist regime, but really Joe? We have places like the former German Democratic Republic--they're called FEDERAL PRISONS.

Today at work I overheard a conversation (I was working in a cubicle, it was impossible not to overhear) about a wayward son who had strayed the path and voted for Obama...

...There was a brief period two years ago when my grandmother had a really hard time believing in me.

If I was in New York, I would go see Franz Xaver Messerschmidt's temporary exhibition at the Neue Galerie. His fascinating story goes a little like this: Around the time baroque was on its way out and neo-classical was the new black, Messerschmidt was at the top of his sculpting game and easily transitioning, even leading the transition, into the new movement. But he wasn't one of the popular kids in the Austrian Academy and when everyone was keeping things stoic, he started to put expression into the faces of his subjects. First smiles and grimaces, then yawns and stink-eyes. As a result, people thought he was crazy. Disenchanted he moved out of town and finished out his life creating all sorts of freaky faces that were way ahead of his time. And what happened to all those courtesan sculptures that mocked him and called him crazy? NO ONE CARES. If you are in New York before 10 January 2011, check out the original thriller FXM.

Why are we only symmetrical (OK, almost symmetrical) on the outside? And since we aren't symmetrical on the inside, how did we end up being almost symmetrical on the outside?

I like dressing up as a gothic for Halloween. I don't like being asked the next day, because I can't quite get that manliner off, if I'm supposed to be Adam Lambert or Evan Lysacek.

When I was a kid, my mom rationed out our Halloween candy for MONTHS. I distinctly remember gnawing through old black and orange taffy after Easter.

When I was a kid, my dad once took me and some friends on a trick-or-treating rampage all over Bountiful. We must have covered fifty miles of streets. After he dropped off my friends, he took me to the grocery store and bought me a bag full of candy bars to supplement my loot. I was the talk of the neighborhood. Until my brother Ben ratted me out--"You didn't get all that from trick-or-treating!" "Yes I did!" "No you didn't--Dad took you to the grocery store!" At this point in the conversation I made some attempt at a denial, but the shock if his uncanny perception was all over my face, screaming "How did you know?" "I know he did cause he did the same thing for me last year."

Besides "Thriller" and "Monster Mash", which are great, are there any other Halloween songs?

An older woman lived across the street from where I grew up. I was scared to death of her. I remember running through her front yard once on a dare--it was the bravest thing I had done up to that point in my life. We never trick-or-treated at her house because everyone knew that she covertly tucked ice into your trick-or-treat bag to ruin your candy. That house still makes me uneasy.

Plastic pumpkin face? A cauldron? Psssht. In my neighborhood, the only respectable trick-or-treat bag was a pillow case. Anything else was child's play.

Remember It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown?

Transylvania is absolutely the coolest place I have ever been on Halloween. First of all, it's Transylvania and it's awesome and it's beautiful in the fall. Second, huge flocks of crows fly through on their way south. I'm talking huge rivers of cawing birds soaring just above the apartment buildings. Third, on The Day of the Dead, everyone visits their family graves to clear away the weeds, leave gifts, and surround the tombs in candles. In Cluj-Napoca, the heart of Transylvania, the cemetery is on a hill over looking the city. That night, the hill was on fire with flickering candles.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN.

if i had twitter 2.0.

2010-10-22T10:49:00.002-06:00

Round two. I didn't have as much time to think this week because my funemployment has come to an end. For now. But here you have some random thoughts for the week:

On Sunday I ran into a guy that I was in a play (Shenandoah) with back when Rodgers Memorial Theater was Pages Lane Theater. The best line in that play? "If we don't try, then we don't do; and if we don't do, then why are we here?" AMEN.

An older gentleman, whom I respect very much, told me this week that if he had to go back and choose a career all over again, he would have gone with music.

The French are protesting. It's part of their culture. They've been doing it for centuries--even before 1789 when they gathered on a tennis court and decided they weren't going to roll over and take it anymore from the monarchy. And then stormed the Bastille. Right now they are striking because the government is threatening to pass a bill that would delay retirement two years. Swinging their unions into action, the protestors have blockaded fuel reserves, leaving one third of the nation's gas stations empty. And no one writes better, or more offensive protest signs. One particularly irreverent sign refers to Carla Bruni, the gorgeous Italian born French singer/supermodel-turned-first-lady: Hey Carla, we're like you--we're being screwed by the Chief of State.

Wislawa Szymborska, the Polish poet, said "I prefer the hell of chaos to the hell of order." I like you Wislawa.

What marks the difference between murder and assassination? Societal import?

There's a third circumstance which may be interpreted as me mumbling: talking on my cell phone. If I hold it in my right hand, or go hands-free with it against my shoulder, the person on the other end can't understand a thing. Add fatigue or apathy to the mix and there's no hope of intelligible conversation.

I can't picture myself ever getting to the point where I build, or even buy, a house.

Matt's house now has a Scentsy in it.

"If they're here, they should have to learn English." This phrase drives me up the wall for multiple reasons, but one in particular. Yes, I think people should put forth an effort to learn the language of whatever country they inhabit. And I think most people do try. However, "they", or sometimes "those people", usually refers to adults. Do you know how difficult it is for an adult to learn a second language? For four semesters I taught beginning French to college students. We had an hour of class every day in which I spoke almost entirely in French and they were forced to employ the basic French grammar and vocabulary they were learning. They had an hour of homework every night. They were required to attend French-speaking activities, watch French movies, and meet once a week outside of class to speak French with a classmate. We had oral and written exams every other week. We sampled French food and listened to French music. My classes were supervised by one of the top French language instructors in the country--the woman who had written our text book. All the best, most researched means of second language instruction were employed to help these bright, young minds learn French. Some of them, let's say half, did everything in their power to learn the language. Everyday I would encourage them, praise them for their progress--tell them they were doing great. You know what? I LIED. Their French was awful--ear-numbingly painful. Their comprehension was limited to theatrically expressive, slow speaking on my behalf. The few who succeeded in learning more than simple phrases were those who had previously learned another foreign language. If they can't do it, how can we expect an immigrant, day-laborer (who has no such language resources) to learn English in the United States? If we take a look back at our progenitors, most of us will find that learning English didn't kick in until the second generation.

You may have heard this before, but it is true: Women are most attractive when they are not trying to be.

The Tea Party movement doesn't sound like much of a party to me.

I hate hearing that people are worried about me. Not just because I would rather not have my life's circumstances be a subject of discussion, but because it shows a lack of confidence on their behalf for what I am doing with those circumstances.

Jersey Shore--nature or nurture?

I almost signed up for an EMT class this week. Why? I've always been interested in emergency medicine and being a paramedic or a firefighter really appeals to me. They are occupations with the coolness-adventure factor of river guiding on a slightly more mature scale.

I miss being a river guide. And I still miss Paris. And Romania. And AFRICA.

Around the 18th and 19th centuries, a soldier's desertion, sickness, or even death could be attributed to nostalgia. This was determined to be most common amongst Swiss mercenaries because of their longing for the beauty of the Swiss Alps. The opposite of nostalgia, or homesickness, was wanderlust, coined by the Germans, as the desire to be far from home. My great-grandfather, Fritz Seibold, attributed his young adult wanderings (which led him to meet my great-grandmother, Frieda) to wanderlust.

Compare the words overcome and undergo.

When I was in college I almost signed up for the marines. Not kidding. I was especially interested in the scholarship possibilities when I was thinking of going to law school. After talking to a recruiter on campus, I went into their office and took an aptitude test. They made me an offer and I went home to think about it. I mentioned it to my dad and his wigging out made me chicken out. Mostly because I had seen in the movies what happens to guys at boot camp who have last names like Dickamore.

At a birthday party last weekend, I had to wear a name tag with my last name on it. Several people l.o.l.-ed and two people couldn't stop laughing. For several minutes. It's been a while since I got such boisterous reactions.

Springing leaks, convulsing core, spreading joints, and tearing flesh--a full on body kamikaze. Thank the Almighty I never "get" to give birth.

Ben's a freaking DAD. The word precious makes me queezy but there is nothing more that than a newborn baby girl.

As I get older it's becoming increasingly possible that I will marry a girl who has already been married and may already have kids. I think I'm OK with that.

If there hadn't been a Cold War, we probably never would have put a man on the moon. The government had decided that lunar exploration was too risky and too expensive. In 1961, the Soviets gave us the finger by successfully put Major Yuri Gagarin into orbit. Two years prior, the Soviets had also been the first to land a man-made object on the moon. The pressure was on, but with a price tag of 11 billion dollars, Kennedy was still reluctant. It took the encouragement of his vice-president Lyndon B. Johnson to seal the deal with the phrase "To be second in space is to be second in everything". In September 1962, Kennedy made an epic speech to a filled stadium at Rice University in Houston, Texas (He spoke there because of the university's involvement in the space effort--hence the "Houston, we have a problem" line). He announced that we were going to the moon and closed his speech with this: "Many years ago the great British explorer George Mallory, who was to die on Mount Everest, was asked why did he want to climb it. He said, 'Because it is there.'Well, space is there, and we're going to climb it, and the moon and the planets are there, and new hopes for knowledge and peace are there. And, therefore, as we set sail we ask God's blessing on the most hazardous and dangerous and greatest adventure on which man has ever embarked." Billions of dollars, 400,000 people, and seven years later, Neil Armstrong made one giant leap for mankind.

The movie script is coming along. Largely thanks to the genius that is Joel Ackerman.

This guy is in town tonight.

And those are some filtered thoughts for the week.

i miss paris. they do stuff like this there.

2010-10-18T12:42:00.001-06:00

Aloe Blacc | I Need A Dollar | A Take Away Show - Part 1 from La Blogotheque on Vimeo.

Aloe Blacc | A Take Away Show - Part 2 from La Blogotheque on Vimeo.

au cinéma.

2010-10-16T19:04:00.001-06:00

I lost a little humanity this week. And this was just what I needed:

Who wants to bet that Carey Mulligan, who was nominated for an Oscar last year for "An Education", will be nominated again for "Never Let Me Go"? Andrew Garfield and Keira Knightley were also brilliant. The characters and their tragic circumstances were amplified by the simplicity of the story.

It's in limited release and is only playing at the Broadway Centre Cinemas.

thoughts.

2010-10-15T18:53:00.009-06:00

I don't tweet. I don't because I don't think anyone really cares about down to the second updates on what's running through my head. (Such as how would I explain the prepositions used in that last sentence to someone who doesn't speak English as a first language?)

But if I had been tweeting this week, it would have gone something like this:

Cancer sucks.

Did anyone expect Clint Eastwood--you've gotta ask yourself a question: "Do I feel lucky?" Well, do ya, punk?--would end up being such an awesome director?

Why do I keep talking to her when I should just shut up and say sorry?

I have no marketable skills.

What are all those 'funny' things we used to say every time we passed Northern X-Posure on the way to Salt Lake?

I think about Mark Zuckerberg and Harvard and brilliant dialogue every time I get on facebook now.

That's what Sean Hannity looks like? ...why can't he look either a) weasely and neurotic or b) like Rush Limbaugh?

Thomas S., do you ever get a break?

Hereafter looks lame. Seriously, Clint? Waiting until redbox...

There are two different types of people that call me Jeffy: People that knew me as a kid and people I want to punch in the face.

Ever wonder why your girlfriend doesn't think you match, but you think your clothing choice is fine? Most people are trichromatic (meaning they have three types of color receptors in their eyes). Some animals, like certain spiders, marsupials, birds, reptiles, and fish are tetrachromats (which means they have four receptors). As many as half of all women are retinal tetrachromats. While only women? Because you have to have two X chromosomes, blah, blah genetic stuff I don't understand. But SOME of these feminine retinal tetrachromats, have ENHANCED color discriminations. In other words, they are functional tetrachromats and see, or distinguish, more colors than you do. Like spiders. Lizards and piranhas. And other cold blooded things. Which is probably another reason why this can only happen in females.... ZING!

Is the popularity of baseball in Japan linked to postwar US investments?

I love my MacBook.

Why have I still not seen Politist, Adjectif?

Do I know anyone that would pay me to go live with a troop of Rroma (gypsies to all you non-p.c.-ers) for a few months? And thereby produce a wicked cool documentary about a people that no one accepts and no one understands... Did you know there's a Gypsy King in Sibiu, Romania where I lived for four and a half months?

Is darkness really just the absence of light? Is cold, then, just the absence of heat?

Roy Lichtenstein, you are a stud.

I really want the misogynistic character in my screenplay to wear a t-shirt that says "This is what a FEMINIST looks like."

Matt took THIRTY-FIVE dress shirts to the dry-cleaners today. I am never paying rent again.

Would anyone fund a short film about a father who has lost his wife to cancer? If someone did fund it, would anyone watch it?

Unlike all the cool kids (i.e. BStone's friends) I only recently started listening to The National. Pick of the week is "Fake Empire".

For the love of all that's holy, please don't make another comment about your concerns for the YSA.

Can you imagine having sexually transmitted diseases on your list of workplace hazards? Between 2004 and 2008, the Los Angeles County Public Health Department logged 2,847 STD infections among 1,884 adult film performers. (yep, read it again, that's just over 1.5 per person) And because the actors get around so much, literally, a positive HIV test on one performer creates a scare that can shut the entire industry down for months.

Hereafter looks really good. I will not wait until redbox.

Can it really be considered art if you just paint a whole canvas blue? Yes Yves Klein, YES it can.

I am a mumbler. While I am working on not mumbling, I've figured out that I do it on two types of occasions: 1. I don't want to be talking (because I'm uncomfortable or embarrassed) or 2. I don't care (because I'm tired and/or lazy).

The word announcement looks better spelled anouncement.

Lady singing in the dairy section at Walmart, I heart you.

Yes, I do need these art supplies more than I need new brakes.

I miss Paris.

If I did utilize a social networking tool to express my every thought, there would be a lot more things I shouldn't have cast into cyberspace.

what have you been up to since august 5?

2010-10-08T11:30:00.002-06:00

Well, if you are one of 33 Chilean miners, you've been TRAPPED in a MINE 700 meters below the surface. SINCE AUGUST 5th. And for the first 17 of those days, you survived on emergency food rations and had ZERO communication with the outside world.

photo from news.com.au

What would you do to pass the time? Besides twice-daily prayer sessions, one miner reports that he runs 10km a day. Hats off to you, dude--the world is literally crashing in around you and yet you still manage to get in some cardio. After drilling three small shafts to deliver food and set up communication, rescuers are now getting close to completing a rescue shaft that might be successful in bringing the miners to the surface. Might.

The shaft will only be big enough to rescue one at a time. A big concern is the order in which the miners will be brought to the surface, considering the shaft may implode during the process. According to a report from the Guardian, (that you can read here) "Last up will be those considered most capable of handling the anxiety of being left behind as their comrades disappear one by one." Can you imagine waiting in that line?

In other news, CONGRATS to Kim Jong-un who was announced this week as North Korea's next in line for the position of egomaniacal dictator! This means that North Korea, which has been keeping totalitarian power in the Kim family since 1948, is going to continue its legacy of world's most delusional state. And just in case you were worried, this recently released picture confirms that Jong-un will continue in his father's footsteps: Keeping North Korea cool and casual by always wearing pajamas. Everyday. Everywhere.

That's Jong-un looking smart in black while his father, Jong-il on the right, has chosen the safari khaki,
complete with stunna shades. (photo from Christian Science Monitor)

But WAIT, you're thinking, HOLD the PHONE. What about KIM JONG-NAM, the eldest son? Shouldn't he be next in line? Unfortunately for him, fortunately for Jong-un, Jong-nam lost favor with his father when, back in 2001, he tried to sneak past Japanese customs using a forged Dominican Republic passport. Where was he headed? Well, where every oppressed son of an irrational dictator who is really just like all the other kids wants to go:

TOKYO DISNEY!

I wonder what gave him away--the fact that the name on the passport translated directly as "Fat Bear" or the fact that of all the nationalities to choose from, an Asian tried to pose as a Dominican?

that facebook movie.

2010-10-04T00:45:00.002-06:00

I saw the Social Network late Saturday night and I will see it again before it's out of theaters.

My accolades:
It was filled with great performances (Jesse Eisenberg's character was SOLID, Andrew Garfield's was honest, Armie Hammer seamlessly played TWO separate characters, and wait, Justin Timberlake can act? see for yourself--PG13), clutch editing, wickedly skilled directing by David Fincher, and BRILLIANT dialogue. LOADS of brilliant dialogue. I venture to say that Aaron Sorkin, the screenwriter, is a genius and will win the Oscar for best adapted screenplay. It's very rare to find a film these days with that much dialogue and it's even more rare for it to be so engaging.

Plus, who doesn't love a movie based, even loosely, on a true story?

My [minor] complaints:
The obsession with the elitist clubs felt archaic and reminiscent of The Skulls. Sean Parker just happened to be across the street when the chimney came down? And the crazy girlfriend lighting the bed on fire might have been more at home in a Lindsay Lohan movie.

Though much smarter than most college movies, it falls into typical themes and is rated PG13 for sexual content, language, and drug and alcohol use.

Hey Grandma, I'm writing a movie.

2010-09-25T20:09:00.005-06:00

Yep.

Earlier this year I thought, "If Matt Damon and Ben Affleck can do it--if Sylvester Freaking Stallone can do it--why can't I?" (side note: did you know that Stallone's real middle name is Gardenzio?)

So, I started writing a script about a river trip in Moab that takes a turn for the worst. Which creeped out a lot of my friends. But then I realized that filming on the river might be a little expensive, and something that could be done locally, with a lot less money, would be much easier to produce.

That's when I remembered a conversation I had with Irene while in Paris. This conversation either took place in my apartment or while riding in the metro, either way I'm sure there were pastries involved, but the point was that I told her I wanted to adapt Les Caprices de Marianne by Alfred de Musset into a screenplay. Sure, Jean Renoir had done it back in 1939, but that was a very loose adaptation and the resulting movie was only recently considered to be the third greatest achievement in cinematic history.

Third? Come on Renoir, get in the game.

Prior to my teacher recommending the play to me for my end of term project, I had never heard of it. I had never even heard of Musset, and I even mispronounced his name in front of my whole class (Hey BYU French Program, you really dropped the ball on that one, didn't ya?). My embarrassment drove me to FNAC where I waited in a really long line to buy a copy of the play. The more I read it and the more I worked on it, the more I loved it and the more I wanted to know about the guy who wrote it.

Long story short, I have been working on the screenplay now for several months. My first draft was finished in three weeks, spurred partially by a then-recent-break-up. This second draft, thanks to the help of awesome friends, is taking longer but getting better everyday. I love the story. The screenplay incorporates a lot of commentary about art, relationships, and love.

The goal is to get the film rolling this coming spring. While I had initially planned on doing an ultra-low budget film, I've realized that the story deserves a higher quality production. I also wrote it with the hope of playing one of the main characters, Damon-Stallone style.

Even Renoir played a leading role in his little movie, and he looked like this:

wow.

2010-06-12T02:57:00.001-06:00

Stomacher - Untitled/Dark Divider from Sean Stiegemeier on Vimeo.

hindsight is 20/20

2010-01-14T19:50:00.005-07:00

2009 was pretty friggin' rad. Just for my sake and sanity, I've decided to list a number of things I did this past year. Some were kind of a big deal, others were just awesome.

I graduated. While I allowed myself to get more and more distracted as I got closer to graduation, and my GPA suffered a bit as a result, I had a great time at BYU.

I finished my Honor's Thesis documentary. Honestly, I didn't think it was going to work out. But it did, and even better than I had hoped. It wasn't until I was sitting in my thesis defense that I realized how much thought I had put into the project. For every question they asked, I had an answer, and I passed without revisions.

Thanks to Hale Centre Theatre, I played a bad guy for the first time ever. Not just any bad guy, but a murderous pirate. And while I know it freaked some people out, I really enjoyed it. Even though I was basically the only one who didn't get to swim.

Thanks to some awesomely talented friends at BYU, I participated in four student film projects. "Spit" by Michael Van Orden, "Night at the Opera" with Joel Ackerman, "Lest We Forget" by Courtney Branning and Coryn Cope, and "Abe and Sasha's Movie Night" by Joseph Reidhead. Both cast and crew, these projects rocked. Watching the "Spit" premiere at the Scera was the first time I have ever seen myself on the big screen.

I participated in the Nauvoo Pageant and loved it all over again.

I gave the finger to law school and never felt better. And finally admitted to myself that I want to be an actor.

I moved to France and made it into an acting school.

I moved back.

I spent time in Provo, Nauvoo, Houston, Moab, Paris, Rome, London, and Woods Cross.

I took loads of pictures. So many that I don't have room on my computer for them, but I will be posting some shortly.

Thank you, 2009. You were good to me.

And on to 2010. Every year I have a motivating slogan that follows a similar theme. Past years' slogans have included:

Get valid for heaven in 2007.
Find a mate in 2008.
It's about time in 2009.

And now, announcing the theme for this year:

If not now, then when? 2010.

apologies

2010-01-06T12:29:00.002-07:00

Uncertainty strikes the best of us. And whenever it hits home, I tend to distance myself a bit from the world and avoid questions that touch on what I am doing with my life. This includes being a little distant in internet communications...

chez moi.

2009-11-20T10:48:00.003-07:00

Either due to the granola habits I picked up in Moab, or the vagrant habits I picked up while traveling, some of you seem to be worried about where I am living. NO NEED. First of all, my roommates are studs.

Meet Clément:
(hey man, if you take pictures of yourself with my camera, you're just begging me to post them online)

He is a graphic designer for a record label and is also Gab's brother. (Gab was my studly French roommate at BYU for three semesters. Remember, the one that plays soccer and got addicted to ballroom dance? The one all the girls had crushes on, remember?) Well Gab was an awesome roommate, but Clément's even better because he has a girlfriend and thereby doesn't steal all my prospects. (Gab, je plaisante. Tu sais que je te kiffe GRAV.)

Meet Christophe:
This is his headshot I stole off of facebook--j'espère que ça te derange pas trop, Christophe. C'est juste que t'es tellement beau...

He is an actor and is Laetitia's brother. Laetitia and I met at BYU last summer and quickly became good friends. Christophe is an awesome roommate because he is kind of the reason I ended up in Paris. You see last May, Gab and Laetitia were telling me about how Laetitia's brother, Christophe, was going to this acting school in Paris that he really liked... and the rest is history. Well, actually the rest is the present. You follow me?

The apartment is great. It's cozy, like most Parisian apartments, but it's nice. Two rooms, separated bathroom and toilet, and a kitchen. All you need, including a WASHER.

Here's me making pancakes in the kitchen. FYI, if you want to really impress French people, make pancakes:
We live in the 20th arrondissement of Paris, which can be a little shady, but our neighborhood is nice, as you can see by this view from our window:
It's right next to a métro stop and a bus route that goes right to my school. And we live by the famous Père Lachaise Cemetery which is home to the graves of Chopin, Molière, Balzac, Proust, Jim Morrison, Edith Pilaf, and this person's:
First person, who hasn't been to Paris, that can name who resides under this strange statue wins a free French pastry of your choice. Redeemable only in Paris.

Oh, and here's a picture of that rally I went to on the anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall:
Look familiar? I may have failed to mention that it was not in Paris.
It was here:
More to come on that subject.

and the wall came tumbling down.

2009-11-09T16:00:00.006-07:00

Twenty years ago today, the German Democratic Republic (East Germany) announced that its citizens could travel freely into West Germany and West Berlin. That day, thousands walked around, over, and through a wall that had divided a nation for nearly thirty years. It was the beginning of the end of communism in Europe.

Today I wore my Berlin Wall t-shirt and went to a public rally, wanting to share in the celebration and wanting to acknowledge my awareness of and gratitude for the events that led up to and the events that followed the fall of the Berlin Wall and the subsequent fall of the Iron Curtain. Few contemporary events have had greater impact on my life than this one. That might sound strange, but it is true. Having had the blessing and pleasure of serving a mission for my church in a post-communist state that is still coping with its totalitarian past, I pray, along with billions of others, that human rights and the rule of law may someday be available to all. Prior to the events of 1989, Spencer W. Kimball urged church members worldwide to pray and prepare for the possibility to share the Restored Gospel with those behind the Iron Curtain. Recently, in a world where regimes continue to withhold religious freedom, Thomas S. Monson has recommissioned that call.

May the walls continue to fall.

la vie en rose.

2009-11-03T15:49:00.002-07:00

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then decided that I didn't feel good about taking either one--that, when I really thought about it, what I wanted was something different out of life. So I sat down where I was and scratched around in the dirt a while to sort things out, turning down an offer from Teach for America. Twice. And canceling my law school applications. Leaving to Nauvoo not knowing what I was doing with my life and coming home still not knowing. Then I picked myself up, brushed myself off, and tromped through the woods in pursuit of a road that was only dimly lit on the horizon.

At the end of this rainy Tuesday, 2 November 2009, I find myself at the end of another awesome day in Paris. And I can't believe I'm here.

I still wonder what I am doing. What was I thinking? What AM I thinking? I still believe not going to law school was the smartest dumbest thing I have ever done, but I would have loved to contribute to Teach for America--it just didn't feel right. So running away to Paris was the RIGHT thing? As ridiculous as that sounds, yes. YES.

I admit that I may be wrong. That maybe I am putting off life, chasing pipe dreams. After all, no matter how well I justify going to acting school in Paris, it is still acting school in Paris. And I can understand what it looks like from the outside looking in. Some have described it as "crazy", "spontaneous", "reckless abandon", or as one friend put it tonight over dinner, "so you're just doing this for fun now, right?"

No. I want to make a career out of acting. There. I've said it. Film and theatre. I am passionate about people's stories, and about my stories, and I love learning how to communicate those stories, and what can be learned from them, through the arts.

I am not completely naive however, and I recognize that I may need to have a more stable plan B if I am going to feed a family. Thanks to Florent, I know that I would also love to be a Professor. But first I need some training. So I am doing my best to acquire a set of skills while also getting an unique perspective, international experience, and intensive language work at the same time.

Yes, I may be wrong. I may have been fooled by my own self-indulgence and wanderlust. But things have worked out miraculously (stay tuned for more info on my ideal apartment situation and a part time job starting on Thursday), and I would be an ingrate not to attribute it to Divine Providence. Whether that means I am following God's will or He is simply saving me from my own stupidity (or a mix of both), I can't say. But at the end of this beautiful, rainy autumn day, I am moved to believe that I am just where I should be. And I love it.

be true to your school.

2009-10-22T15:41:00.007-06:00

So what is le Cours Florent? Well, it's a school for the "dramatic arts" created by Francois Florent in 1965. But not just any school. At its best it has rivaled the National Conservatory and produced some of France's most renowned and respected actors. While it's recently been criticized for increasing class sizes along with tuition, it's still considered to be the best private conservatory in France. I have yet to meet a Parisian that doesn't know what the Cours Florent is. In the spring they hold auditions for "la classe libre". Over a thousand compete, through a three-round audition process, for twenty spots--a few of which are reserved for international students whose maternal language is not French. Those who get in are put through a rigorous training program with twice as many class hours, the best professors, and twice the workload. And tuition is waived. Yes, come March, I will be auditioning.

In the mean time, I have class Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday. Plus outside rehearsals that are becoming more and more frequent. Our last assignment was the series of monologues I mentioned earlier (the tout seul). Now we are working on the parcours d'un role--basically a ten minute breakdown of a play focusing on the development of one of its characters. I am doing Octave from Les Caprices de Marianne, by Musset, for mine, and participating in Le Diable et le Bon Dieu by Sartre, The Seagull by Chekhov, and The Taming of the Shrew, amongst others, for some of my classmates' projects. We have also been assigned three other scenes from differing plays that we are supposed to be working on.

I've been wanting to get pictures to share, but pulling out a camera seemed to be too American or touristy or something. And I found out that we aren't allowed to take pictures in class. I finally snuck a couple the other day, but because I couldn't use my flash, this is the only one that really turned out:
All the classrooms are similar. Lights on the 'stage' part, dark in the seats.

My professor is Valerie Negre. And she is amazing. And really blunt. And never has a play (written before 1995) been mentioned in class that she doesn't know about. Never.

It gets better. My classmates are awesome. They are passionate, intelligent, incredibly talented, and cool. I know that down the road I am going to be saying, "I went to school with that guy" all over the place.

For example:
That's Marius. Stud. One of the coolest people I've every met, and not just because he's originally from Romania.

And this is Hannah:
She does awesome work and has consented to play opposite me for my parcours. Her and Lisa, whom I don't have a picture of, love to make fun of my American accent. Merci, les filles.

And I could go on, but I don't have anymore pictures. Except for this one of a few of us at a Vietnamese Restaurant after class:The girl closest to the camera is Katya. She's originally from Bulgaria and her father runs an acting school in L.A. She just applied for a green card and her English is great. Almost as good as her acting.

I don't know what else to say about school. I love it. Any questions? Did I mention that I love it?

deux pieds pour marcher.

2009-10-18T16:20:00.003-06:00

This photo series was taken while on a day trip to Deauville with the wonderful Paulet Family. More photos and more information to come.

bonne semaine.

2009-10-16T13:35:00.010-06:00

Things have been great.

So after institute last Thursday, I was invited to go on a last minute temple trip to Frankfurt. I guess someone had bailed out leaving an empty seat in one of the cars. The deciding conversation could best be translated as follows:
"Hey, what was your name again?"
"Jeff. And you are...?"
"Cecile. We're planning a temple trip and there's an extra spot in one of the cars--want to come?"
"When?"
"Tomorrow night."
"When are we coming back?"
"The next day."
"TOTALLY."
And so the next evening I found myself road-tripping to a temple in Germany with these wonderful people:

We got there around 3am, slept in the car for a few hours then went to the distribution center, and made it to the temple for the 8am session. Which was auf Deutsch. Which was awesome because I was always kind of jealous of the people that got to where those remote headsets. It was great. Then I sort of kind of fell asleep in the Celestial room but woke up in time for the next session. Which was in English. And was also great.
Afterwards we had to head back pretty quickly, so what I did see of Germany was basically the passing countryside. Which was beautiful. It was fun however to be with the German temple workers. I was reminded how incredible different they really are from the French. It's amazing to me that these people have lived next to each other for centuries without either 1. completely annihilating each other or 2. gelatinizing into one. They hold fiercely to their vastly differing cultures and identities, along with the rest of Europe, which produces an incredible diversity that is furthered by the massive influx of immigrants from all over the globe. And all of them are crammed into a couple peninsulas that hang off of Asia. Fascinating. And man, do they know their chocolate. From Scandinavia to Sardinia, these Europeans work magic with the cacao bean.

We got back to Paris around 10pm and I drove the last leg. Which was fun. It's always good to remind myself that Paris does not equate France.
This week has really been great. So many good times, but I will skip to the big events.

Wednesday night I hung out with these guys:
here:

(neither of those photos are mine, obviously--I left my camera at home...)

Yes ladies and gentlemen, I went to my first big football game. It was awesome. I knew it would be cool to be there in that huge stadium, but I had no idea how into it I was going to be. I loved it. And while we beat Austria 3-1, it doesn't really matter because Serbia already has the direct ticket to the World Cup. But come November, France will have a second chance at getting in. And there will be blood. And while I might not be a die hard, I am now a fan and I will be watching.

I am also a fan of classical opera being accompanied by marimbas and African drums, underscored by genuine African choral harmonies. Yeah, you heard me. The day after going to the match, I went to see this:

Mozart's Magic Flute performed by the South African Opera Company in English and Xosa. It was incredible. Not only could they sing traditional opera with the best of them, the entire company also took turns filling in on the instruments and dancing. In a deeply African vein, it was a communal effort. And when I say underscored by African choral harmonies--well, if I was a musician I could explain it better, but it was haunting. And beautiful. And moving. I loved it.
Man, I gotta get back to Africa.

Amidst all of this, I promise I have been going to school. And it has actually been really busy. I had to break down a play into ten minutes and find people to play the other characters for my next project. And also start learning parts for the projects of other students. But the more we get into it, the more I enjoy it. I promise I will give more information about class and living conditions and the like, but this post is long enough. And I have some camembert in the fridge calling my name...à la prochaine.

a bientot.

2009-10-08T17:41:00.003-06:00

It's been a week since I came back and I am still loving it. Much has happened and there's much more to come. I didn't crash and burn during my monologue proficiency Friday morning despite not having spoken French for the entire week. Tuesday morning our work load was doubled at Florent as we prepare for the next assignment which requires working as partners and small groups--which is great. I continue to be impressed and intrigued by the awesome people in my class. Wednesday, after class, I went to two plays with some of them, one of which was starring one of our classmates and the other was directed by our professor.

I am also having an awesome time with the young adults--FHE at Edouard's, institute class in downtown Paris, parties at Miro's, and watching General Conference at the chapel in Nogent--some were rebroadcast due to the time difference (which made for four sessions on Sunday, but it was just what I needed). And tomorrow, after class, and after checking out a possible room to rent, I am going on a road trip here:

c'est vrai.

2009-09-23T05:46:00.002-06:00

Yep, it's true. I am flying home tomorrow only to get back on a plane next Wednesday and fly back. Why? Well, I bought my ticket not knowing whether or not I would be accepted into Florent. And then when I was accepted, I found out it would cost me over $1500 to change my ticket. So, I am coming home. And this way, my visa restarts and I can stay until Christmas. And don't worry, I am making the best of it--on Friday morning I am flying to Houston to visit eight of my most favorite people in the world (6+2). I haven't seen them for a LONG time and one of them I have yet to meet. Can't wait. I am coming back to Utah on Monday night. And Tuesday night Matt is graciously throwing me a little birthday gathering at his house. Come. Last chance to see me until Christmas. Unless of course you are going to be in Paris in the next three months, in which case, you might get tired of seeing me. Or at least tired of seeing me sleep on your couch.

Class has been great. I love it. Je le kiffe GRAV. There is so much to learn and so much to work on and I love it. Right now we are working on our tout-seul assignment--each student selects five monologues, one from each of the five centuries since the 17th, and performs them in five minutes. It's great. My professor is brilliant and my class is filled with many extremely talented, bright people. The day after I get back is when we have to pass them off to a panel of judges. Wish me luck, or as I was culturally informed of today, merde.

je me suis inscrit.

2009-09-14T09:48:00.003-06:00

It's done. I am now an enrolled student of Le Cours Florent. I went in this morning and filled out the paper work and paid my dues. I was introduced to everyone in the office as "le jeune homme americain" (the young American man) and later "notre americain" (our American). Everyone would start off talking to me really slowly and clearly, not knowing if I spoke French very well, and probably because I had that nervous, puppy dog, am-I-really-going-through-with-this? look on my face. They made sure to show me around and answer all possible questions. All the while I couldn't believe I was actually doing it and left in somewhat of a state of shock.

Walking to the metro, it hit me that I had actually gone through with it and I started laughing.

I start class tomorrow morning at nine. Still don't know where I am going to live--but with the way everything else has fallen so miraculously into place, I am not complaining.

now what?

2009-09-11T07:50:00.004-06:00

When I get nervous, my heart rate skyrockets until I can feel it pounding out of my chest and I usually end up talking so fast that you can't tell what I am saying, and, this might sound weird but my hamstrings get shaky--just ask Ben about when I sang at his farewell. All of this used to happen every time I had to audition for something. It's a miracle (literally) that I was ever cast in anything, but the more I auditioned, the more I got used to the whole experience and eventually I was able to keep myself relatively calm and focused. Well, in case you're wondering, all that goes out the window when you have to audition in another language. Along with your ability to speak that language. Oi. I basically had to READ my first monologue. Luckily, they asked me some questions before moving on to the second monologue. This helped me catch my breath and calm down a bit, but I still lost track of what I was saying. Twice. Nevertheless, for some reason that escapes me, they accepted me into the school. I was even more shocked when they told me that I would be admitted into the SECOND year of the program. Excuse me? I'm sorry, did you...wow. Uh, MERCI.

So now that I am in, What do I do? Do I stay? Do I move forward trying to find an apartment and continue to drain my savings account? Before I left, I didn't realize how low the dollar-euro exchange is right now. That turn things upside down a bit, but it would still be possible...

Oh, and they want me to start on Monday.

?

More importantly, the meeting with Elder and Sister Bednar last night was absolutely inspired. After Sister Bednar shared some thoughts, Elder Bednar changed the format of the meeting to a question and answer session. It was incredible.

A few thoughts from the meeting:

Seeing is not believing. We can receive a special witness of Christ by the power of the Holy Ghost in a way that transcends the five senses. Each member has the responsibility to stand as a witness of Christ.

The number of conversions will not increase until we, as members, stop relying on the missionaries to find people to teach. "You are full-time finders; the missionaries are full-time teachers." Pray for the discernment to recognize missionary opportunities, then be prepared to act when your prayer is answered.

A young boy asked, straight up, "How do you know God exists?" Seeing Elder Bednar testify to him, and share ways in which he has seen the arm of the Lord revealed in his life, was a beautiful experience.

To sacrifice is to be willing to give all--to be willing to die for the gospel. To consecrate is to be willing to develop and dedicate your life in such a way that you will live for the gospel.

When we come unto Christ, He shows unto us our weakness, not our weaknesses or shortcomings but our mortal, fallen state, and the necessity to depend on Him. When we know we must rely on Him, and have the faith to know we can, He will grant us strength in Him.

The Church is TRUE.

lemme esplain...

2009-09-06T12:41:00.006-06:00

Some of you seem shocked to learn that I picked up and moved to Paris. Don't worry, no one was more tripped out over the whole experience than I was (that's two bad pun-entries in a row).

What was I thinking? Let me explain. Well, let me sum up:

Not going to law school. What am I doing with my life? Who's going to want to date some guy with no career prospects? Being a professor would be cool, but as Dr. Sprenger told me, that means I need to find something I want to study for the next 27 years... wow, that's a long time. Could anything keep my attention that long? What have I been really into lately? . . . buh, acting? Film is especially interesting to me. Maybe I could get an MFA (Master of Fine Arts, which is a terminal degree) in acting or film... but I don't have any technical training and it might be hard to convince a good university to take a chance on me based solely on my audition. So, I need to take some acting classes. Don't want to stay at BYU. Don't want to get ripped off by some lame classes in LA. I am curious to see what would happen if I just starting auditioning more. Maybe get some more experience. ...Hey, Laetitia (a French friend of mine)'s brother is at that acting school in Paris. It's supposed to be good and is cheaper than BYU... I wonder... no, that would never happen... hmmm. My French could use some work and I do love Paris. Maybe I should call them just to find out some more information...

The next day I bought a ticket. Five days later I sold my car. A week and a half later I got on the plane. And here I am today:
views from Mont Parnasse
love street musicians

the infinite staircase at Porte des Lilas--and one more reason why I wish I had one of those big red foursquare balls with me at all times. Anyone? At least a bouncy ball...
leaving church with Irene

Clement, Gab's wickedly talented graphic designer brother who lives in Paris, and Irene walking in one of the many Parisian parks.

My Nikon D90 was the best impulse purchase I have ever made.

from Paris, safe and sound

2009-09-04T08:39:00.005-06:00

First of all, if anyone decides to come visit me, the direct flight (SLC->CDG) is the new best thing that ever happened to trans-Atlantic flying. Adam West, the ORIGINAL television series BATMAN, was on the flight and Gareth, one of the flight attendants who is Welsh and a stud and is going to start his doctorate in poli sci at the U next year, brought me an extra fruit and cheese plate from first class. I guess Mr. West wasn't up for a midnight snack. I also had the biggest carry-on bag in the history of flying--the guy at Skycap told me to try and take it on the plane, saving me fifty bones. So I only checked one bag and then somehow got on board the plane with my laptop bag, camera bag, and a fatty duffel bag.

I couldn't have made it very well from the airport with all my bags if Irene Kim, my friend that I taught French with at BYU (and who is now a nanny for some wealthy French family that takes her on vacations to Italy and the Riviera), hadn't come to pick me up. Thanks IRENE.

The idyllic glamour of living in Paris faded a bit when I had to make my first big purchases, buying a metro pass and a cell phone (if you feel inclined to call, send me an email and I will send you my number). Big cities are really only luxurous for those who have lots of money. With that being said, Paris has a lot to offer even those who don't have loads of cash and I am LOVING it. It helps that I am staying with three Romanians. Everyone knows how much I love those people and these ones are especially cool. Despite not having much room for themselves, they have taken me in, fed me (Romanian style), and given me a place to sleep by pushing their kitchen table aside to squeeze in a mattress on the floor.

This morning I caught up on some much needed sleep then headed out into the city to visit Le Cours Florent for the first time. It took me a while to find it because I didn't have the address and only vaguely remembered where it is from having seen it on Google Earth. When I saw it, I got really nervous and almost kept walking. There are things about French culture that can be intimidating (i.e. the language) and piling that on top of a sticking-your-neck-out situation made me want to tuck my tail between my legs and whimper away. But I didn't. I threw up a very humble little prayer, crossed the street and went inside. I looked around the entry for a bit, gathering up a bit of courage while trying to look nonchalant. The three women working just inside the office seemed nice enough, so I went in. I was invited to take a seat at a desk where I explained myself and learned that in order to get into Florent, you have to do a three week workshop (that costs 365 euros) before being able to audition, unless you have already had a full year at another acting conservatory. I told her about my acting experience, explained more about my situation, my experience, and the fact that I had hoped to avoid the cost of the workshop, and she waived the requirement. Bless you, Ode!--that's her name, though I might have spelled it incorrectly. Either way, I went from Ode, to JOY (pun intended).

With the workshop waived, I suddenly began to worry that maybe I won't do so well in my audition and that maybe I needed the exposure of a three week workshop in order to get in. I expressed my concern to Ode and she told me not to worry about it. So she signed me up for an audition on Friday, September 11 at 2pm. When the office realized that "l'Americain" had been signed up for an audition on 9/11, they were worried, but I assured them that I would be fine.

So, at the end of my audition next Friday, I will be told whether or not I have been accepted, and if I am, into which year of the program. In the meantime, I might travel around a bit, but Elder Bednar is giving a fireside for the Paris area next Thursday and I want to be there for that.

Well, I have been sitting in this McDonald's leeching off their free internet for a while and this post is far too long, but just so everyone knows, I did check in with both of my grandmothers before I left, and, despite everything, they STILL believe in me.

Most importantly, I am the proud, new uncle of this little guy:

(Thanks for the picture Steph!) From what I understand, he hasn't been named yet, but I think he should be named Anthony, maybe Anthony Jeffrey Dickamore (you could call him AJ!), because I think he looks EXACTLY like Tony. Before I left, Tami reminded me that this is the third baby she would have while I am out of the country. Depending on what time exactly he was born, I may have still been within the US air territories...

I love you all!

o blah dee, o blah da...

2009-06-12T18:16:00.006-06:00

life goes on.

I have decided not to go to law school and I feel great about it. What I haven't decided is what I am going to do instead. I'm not even sure if I will be graduating anytime soon because a broken toe is preventing me from doing a half credit required gym class. But I will keep you posted on any changes. In the mean time, I start rehearsal for Nauvoo on Monday and will be flying out on June 24. If you want to come out, the Pageant runs from July 7 to August 1. So come discover your true sweating capacity in the most beautiful bend on the Mississippi. I am sure you will not be disappointed.

?

2009-04-16T12:51:00.003-06:00

waitlisted at columbia. ha, ha, ha....wait--what?

even grandma's gonna have a hard time with this one...

2009-04-04T00:23:00.003-06:00

i'm a mumbler. especially when i am tired, have to ask my dad for something, or when expressing any sort of emotion to the opposite sex. or when confessing anything. such as the fact that i don't really eat meat anymore. well at least not pork, beef, chicken, or lamb. still eat fish. and it's not because they don't have feelings or because Jesus ate them.

anyway. so the point is (besides the other point which is that i can't sleep and haven't slept for some time now)... ya know how i've spent lots of money and time and stress and stuff on trying to get into law school and have been validating all of my actions and meanderings by stating that i was going to go to law school and save the world and make something out of myself and all that? well... (insert here that nervous laugh i do when i don't want to say something) well, what if i don't go to law school? at least not this fall. what if i realized that despite everything i really don't have to go to law school and that things just might still be ok...and that since that realization i have felt, dare i say, relieved? i'm not making any rash decisions and i haven't ruled anything out. it might just be a matter of money and timing. i'm not sure. and i know i'm almost twenty-six and don't have any marketable skills yet (we all know how i love them business terms) but please, bear with me grandma. keep on believin' and prayin' and crossin' them fingers. and i just might make something out of myself yet.

rejection's cold

2009-03-30T13:31:00.001-06:00

rejected at:

waitlisted at:

update.

2009-02-25T17:43:00.003-07:00

in at gw.

life. at present.

2009-02-24T12:07:00.003-07:00

still want to go to law school. still no responses. yet. from anyone. maybe getting a little nervous. but due to the fact that i turned in my applications during the second week of january, i'm not holding my breath. yet. i got really worked up about it on thursday when i was trying to do my homework. so worked up that i couldn't accomplish anything and decided that i should go see slumdog millionaire instead. which was amazing. it gave me my humanity back.

going to washington, california, and maybe france on byu's tab. after feeling like the university's stuck it to me a few times, particularly with books and housing, this is especially nice. march 6-8 i will be in seattle for a model european union conference, representing byu as the romanian head of state. april 16-18 i will be presenting a paper at a european union conference at scripps college in sunny claremont, california. and it's looking like i will be doing an internship in france during the spring term--april 25-june 14, that is likely to be covered by both byu and the humanitarian organization i will be working with. thanks uncle samuelson!

honor's thesis? what honor's...? oh. yeah. crap. that romanian thing. still have a lot to work on for that. but luckily the deadline for it was moved to may 2nd. hallelujah. i should be having a public screening in april, so keep an eye out for that anouncement.

student films are fun. and it's a nice creative outlet. it looks like i will be doing a total of three this semester. more like two and a half, but it has been going well so far (you can see a clip of one on my facebook videos). so well that sometimes i think i might forget the whole educaiton route and just move to l.a. and make it big. screw prudence, it's part of my strategery.

due to some recent accommodations, i need to make a shout out to teach for america. first, hawaii didn't fit with my schedule, and i didn't feel good about it, so they made me a second offer: baltimore, teaching secondary french. second, because of the law school factor, i asked for an extension on my decision deadline, which they granted. now i don't have to decide until march 23. again, hallelujah.

all in all, life is good. visiting t'n't and the wee ones down in arizona was awesome. just what i needed. family is about time. especially time spent bruising each other's ribs and mutually inflicting whiplash on unregulated go carts. that's what brings us closer together.

excuse me?

2009-01-20T15:32:00.005-07:00

let's throw a wrench into things, shall we?

i just heard from teach for america and where do you think they offered me a position? maybe to my first, second, third or fourth preference? nope. any one of those would have landed me in a big city on the east coast. instead they offered me a two year teaching position here:

the rural, west coast of oahu.

...i, uh...what? i thought i had decided against doing teach for america and just moving right on to law school. but can i really turn down to years in hawaii with a full salary and benefits, teaching english (grades 6-12)? on the other side of the fence, i don't know if i could i handle the laid-back lifestyle. and marriage prospects on the island might be slim--two more years of solitude?

so there you go. just when you thought you had narrowed it down and figured things out...

law school apps: check.

2009-01-12T22:29:00.006-07:00

they are finally submitted. and now we play the waiting game. [patience is a virtue.]
where did i apply, you ask? well...

first, the two "reach" schools:

NYU (Downtown NYC)

Columbia (Uptown NYC)

a "reach" school refers to a school that you apply to without too much hope of getting in. for me, these are more like "stretch until you tear your ligaments and pull your bones from your sockets" schools. in other words, the only way i will get admitted to either is if someone on the admissions committee makes a mistake or Divine Intervention causes someone to look past my depressingly low LSAT score. with an application fee of $80 dollars per school, i limited my reach schools to two. here's to hoping.

second, still a "reach" but slightly more of a possibility:

Penn (Philadelphia)

Georgetown (D.C.)

Duke (Durham, N. Carolina)

third, the "safety" school:

George Washington (D.C.)

usually a "safety" school refers to a law school that is sure to accept your application. this isn't exactly the case with gw, which is a great school, but it is my best chance.

that totals six schools. yes, $80 times six equals more than you want to pay for rejection. i chose to apply to these schools because of the opportunities they offer in public international law (and obviously their proximity to provo). i should hear back from them between now and april. [patience is a virtue. patience is a virtue.] in the mean time, i should hear from teach for america next week which could throw another wrench into the cogs.

so, where do you think i'll end up?

why i resisted the pressure to major [or minor] in business

2009-01-09T12:49:00.004-07:00

1. business lingo--some h.r. or p.r. guy (i honestly don't know the difference) comes up with a convoluted connotation of a formerly abstract word by 'thinking outside the box' and suddenly it's the holy grail of human exploitation. it quickly makes its way into every sentenced uttered within earshot of management and soon finds itself plastered on coffee mugs and office walls, coupled with a cheap stock photo, and eventually immortalized in a kitschy bronze sculpture.

perfect example: synergy. don't you see? it denotes the cooperative action of multiple parts--SYNERGY! give me an S! give me a Y!...

give me a break.

what's most bothersome is that they are presented as a motivational revolution when in reality nothing is internalized and nothing to do with human behavior is affected. but this doesn't keep anyone from using the word as though it actually means something.

2. networking--while also a prime example of business lingo, this word actually does mean something: to make acquaintances with the sole purpose of benefiting from said acquaintances. this seems to have permeated all forms of social interaction. sure, it can be defended by saying that it is meant to be mutually beneficial, but even still, you're only scratching someone else's back because you are expecting a scratch in return. what happened to making friends?

3. mission statements--whether it's for a corporation or for a newly-wed couple, mission statements make my skin crawl. their business origins are clearly manifested by the fact that they are meant to appear important and professional, efficient and organized, and yet are unable to manifest themselves by producing any significant result. so, take time to write one, print it on sturdy paper with the little flecks of grass and feathers in it, frame it, place it prominently on your wall, and forget about it.

4. business conduct--there's something unsettling to me about reading books like How to Win Friends and Influence People and How to Sell Anything to Anyone. call me crazy, but it seems that business encourages you to pretend to be someone you aren't so you can get people to do something they don't want to do. yes, i am interested in promoting communication and compromise, resolving conflict, and facilitating understanding between adverse groups and i might very well benefit from such training, but i don't want to improve my ability to manipulate and exploit. and i get uncomfortable when i can tell someone is pursuing an agenda with me, not really listening to what i am saying nor trying to understand my point of view.

i must say that i greatly admire business people who manage to be good at what they do while avoiding such behavior. when i visited my brother at the assisted living center he managed. he introduced me to everyone we passed and he knew the name and situation of every employee, from the head nurse to the $8/hour janitors, and they in turn knew and appreciated him. sure, this can be seen as a brilliantly crafted, conniving affectation scheme, but the point is that tony wasn't getting to know his employees for the purpose of controlling them; he actually cares about people.

i guess it's the uncertainty of sincerity that gets me about business.

and that's why i am going to law school . . . ?

2008

2008-12-31T13:02:00.006-07:00

It started out hopeful with the theme "find a mate in 2008". Swing and a miss.

But a lot of great things did happen. Let's look at them by location, shall we?

Sierra Vista: maybe not the most exciting place to ring in the new year, but there's nothing better than being with T&T and their beautiful kids. This is when I first met my nephew Blake.

Provo: living in the basement of an old house with the Wood brothers. Just one thought and I can smell the rice brewing, feel the post-laundry water emptying from the washing machine onto my feet in the shower, and hear Mike's blues riffs on the guitar.

LDS Motion Picture Studio: being in BYU's experimental musical/movie "Berlin" soaked up half of my life winter semester, but it was worth it. I played the French foreign minister, with an accent ranging between Pepe Le Pue and the Pink Panther. I also played Rich Karnicak, an arrogant '50s movie star, in Whitney Donald's senior project film, "Best Wishes! Love, Adele".

Phoenix: visiting the nieces and nephew again. It was about time. Isn't it about time again?

Spring Term in Provo, not Moab: sitting in physical science 101 lectures and studying for the LSAT, and writing grant proposals for Romania. Luckily, I managed to make it to the rope swing a few times, go for some hikes, and even down to St. George on a short road trip with Miss Latimer.

Colorado: welcoming home Sister Wilkin, despite almost not making it due to running out of gas for the first time in my life, was a blast.

Nauvoo: six weeks of an intense experience that changed my life. Unfortunately, I lost my journal. Does that mean I have to go back and do it all over again?

New York City: for a whole twelve hours I wandered around The City and made mental plans of somehow making it back. 'Cause if I can make it there, well, I can make it just about anywhere.

Romania: though entirely too short of a trip, it was wonderful. Through all the roadblocks and technical problems, I still managed to get some incredible interviews.

BYU/Parkway Crossings/Conference Center: it's hard to tell where I spent most of my time these past few months. Living with Whitney's Dane, still teaching and studying at BYU, and driving to SLC almost every night for Savior of the World has all kind of blurred together. There are definitely some significant experiences that stand out against the hazy backdrop, but this past semester was quite a ride...

Some of 2008's tasks are spilling over into 2009 as a result (I still have a lot to work on to finish my documentary and my law school applications), but I am keeping my sanity by savoring every minute and persevering towards dreams that have long kept me awake at night (and by blowing money on a camera that I've always wanted...and a new snowboard) . One thing I have learned this past year is that life is a gift. An amazing, beautiful, sometimes twisted but always adventurous journey that is to be enjoyed.

call the waaambulance

2008-12-17T00:49:00.005-07:00

three things i want to gripe about:

1. the american academic schedule ruins the christmas season. do you want to be stressing over final exams and papers you were supposed to have started three months ago when all you really want to do is cuddle up next to the fire with a cup of hot dark chocolate, knit a scarf and do all that other sappy stuff kozy's delilah recommends? i just realized today that christmas is next week. and i haven't watched a single christmas movie...

2. three weeks ago i bought myself a new camera that cost more than i should have spent, despite being on sale. but i'm not writing to whine about the buyer's remorse--what i'm griping about is the fact that it is still in the box. luckily, finals will be history by friday and i'll be on my way to becoming like some of my hip, artistic friends. and posting the photo results for your viewing pleasure.

3. i can't sleep.

that's all. everything else is pretty awesome. still no girlfriend and still no provo-escape route in the near future, but life is good.

oh, and...

2008-11-30T23:12:00.005-07:00

In my Thanksgiving list, I somehow forgot to express gratitude for this:

holiday

2008-11-26T11:37:00.003-07:00

On this joyous holiday weekend, I feel inclined to voice a little thanks. More than ever before, I am thankful for life; it's a beautiful, precious thing. I am thankful for possibilities and opportunities (not so thankful for having to choose between them, but thankful that I have them nonetheless). I am thankful that Sarah Palin isn't runner-up to the most powerful position in the country, but considering that I am also thankful for my family, all 187 of 'em, I must say that I am also grateful for a valuable lesson that I have been learning over the past year--to keep my mouth shut. Apart from the under-my-breath, snide commentary, (and a significantly awkward lashing-out at Matt's house recently), I have been making some serious progress when it comes to holding my tongue (and holding my keyboard, I guess you could say--which explains why I haven't written anything since the election...). Why do I bring this up now? Well, this new found, burgeoning skill will be absolutely vital to enjoying Thanksgiving dinner. Simply put, we, my extended family and I, don't always see eye-to-eye, and given the recently volatile political scene...let's just say if I don't keep quiet around the table...things could get ugly. And I would have to change the name of my blog to "somebody, somewhere still believes in me."

So, this Thanksgiving, as we gather round the hormone-ridden carcass of a buzzard that never saw the light of day outside of its cramped confinement, I'll do my best to keep the conversation focused on more light-hearted issues, i.e. the recent BYU-Utah game, new homes and new babies, Chloe's pregnant!, Matt's romantic life, the Twilight series, and so on.

Happy Thanksgiving. God bless us, everyone!

Christmas Wish List

2008-11-12T11:42:00.004-07:00

Dear Santa,

1. world peace (i'm not just saying that--i really want world peace. the more i study international security and policy, the more i am convinced that war can be a thing of the past...and if i had a billion dollars, i would buy everyone a puppy.)

2. a girlfriend (stop rolling your eyes and thinking, "if jeff really wanted a girlfriend, he could/should just..." you know what? do you have any idea how many blind dates i have been on in the last while? and i might be busy, but if you think i need to cut something out of my life to make room for things that 'should be taking priority', tell me what i should cut out. i dare you.)

3. a break (as in a break from everything for just a couple days. i kind of took a break last weekend, but that wasn't the kind of break i am talking about. a vacation style break would be nice--hiking through a rainforest, river rafting, scuba diving, playing with my nieces and nephew, time to read and write...sigh.)

4. a camera (a nice nikon, please. and i know, i know. everyone thinks he can be a photographer, but i just might be the next ansel adams, you never know.)

public service announcement

2008-11-04T08:30:00.008-07:00

I want you...

request for input

2008-11-02T23:46:00.003-07:00

Before I say anything, I just want to make it clear that I am still planning on going to law school. That's what I want to do and that hasn't changed. My family may never quite know how to answer the question, "What's Jeff up to these days?" (or even harder, "Is Jeff ever going to graduate, get a real job, and get married?"), but my life only APPEARS to be wandering and aimless. I assure you that there is a bigger picture to be seen.

With that disclaimer, there is a small opportunity that has come up that I originally discarded as illogical. But, it keeps coming up. Instead of stewing over it myself, I'm passing it on to whoever wants to help out. The opportunity is Teach for America--basically, you teach two years in an underprivileged school in hopes of reducing the educational inequality prevalent in lower income neighborhoods. For more info, check out their site here.

Pros: hang out with kids, enhance teaching skills, get a master's degree, get paid a teacher's salary and benefits, get law school hook-ups, and possibly make a difference in some kid's life (think Dangerous Minds or Freedom Writers...or Sister Act II)

Cons: putting off law school for two more years (I guess this could be placed in the pro list) which means I wouldn't graduate from law school until the ripe old age of 97 (think... Billy Madison), I would have to stay in the US, and I wouldn't get a real job for another five more years. They say Teach for America gives you a whole new perspective on what you want to do with your life and increases your commitment for public service--I know I want to enter public interest law and I would be able to do more once I have my J.D., so why push it back two more years?

poze.

2008-10-17T11:21:00.017-06:00

I finally uploaded the few photos I have from my trip to Romania this summer. Although I got quite a bit of footage, I hardly took any pictures. Here are a few to help explain why I am getting restless about being stuck in Provo for eight more months.

This is what I was doing most of the time and yet this is the only picture I have of me carrying out interviews. This is also from the interview when the viewfinder on the video camera went black and I could only hope that the two men were in the shot. At that point, the outcome of my project was about as sure as the communist structure seen in the background.
The Transylvanian Alps/The Carpathian Mountians are beautiful. Someday I am going to go backpacking in Romania...any takers?
Sister Gorzo--the beautiful woman that I stayed with in Bucharest. Not only is she an amazing cook and counselor, but she is hilarious. Her humor reminds me of Grandma Hale. And yes, she believes in me too.
Just a sampling of the many meals/desserts/snacks constantly available from the kitchen of the mission grandma: Sister Gorzo's cheesecake tart (though not the same consistency as American cheesecake--more like feta consistency than cream cheese consistency, the crust, the best part of any cheesecake, was on the bottom AND on the top) and homemade apple cider. This, accompanied by a good talk with Sora Gorzo, and I was in heaven.
This is the poster of an original play I saw in Bucharest. It was in a small theatre on the roof of the National Theatre (Romania's Carnegie Hall or MET opera) and it was brilliant. The premise was all about how we dream big as kids--thinking we can become whatever we want to be, only to give up on our dreams as we get old. It was called "Monday-Friday: 8am-4pm" (both the basic school and work schedule). The pink part of the sign, translated roughly, asks "What did you want to be [i.e. when you grew up] when you were six years old?" The theatre was connected to a sort of night club-- no dancing but it had lots of installation art and films going on all over and a really diverse group of people. I felt like I had tapped into the hip underground student scene in Bucharest.
To my surprise, Brother Calinescu lives! At 80+ his mind is still sharp--he recited a five minute poem for me (Luceafarul), and believe it or not, this man has a daughter that is my age. Stud.
I ate with Stefan and Ilie, two members that I first met way back when I was a greenie, at the new Hard Rock Bucharest the night before I came home. I felt like I had already arrived back in the States. This is just one example of the hundreds of new international businesses that have opened up in Romania since my mission.

Wait a second...that looks like a washed out version of that kid on that one 80's show...
Mormon Myth Confirmed! Ricky Schroeder (Silver Spoons, 24, Scrubs, Lonesome Dove, etc.) is a MO! That's right. He was baptized several years ago and came to church while working on a film in Romania for the SciFi network this August.

Me: "Whose donkey is that?" Boy: "Mine." Me: "Yours?" Boy: "Yep, mine..."

Boy: "...see."

a petition to sanity

2008-10-06T16:35:00.004-06:00

The longer you avoid doing something, the harder it is to do. Like breaking up, making up, or cliff jumping--especially when your cousin, who's a girl, has already jumped. Or, writing on your blog. I think, wow, I need something really good to break the silence. And for weeks I've needed something to do while I procrastinate homework. And it's not as though I haven't had plenty to write about (turning 25 and getting scores of anti-you-know-who-if-you-know-me emails), but I just could not find something worthy of restarting the blog. Well, I have definitely found it...

A sweet individual who truly cares about both my future and my present safety pointed out that I had received an alarming comment on an old blog post (thank you--you know who you are). Once I read it, I felt inclined to delete it and then destroy my computer screen in a ritual cleansing ceremony. But something stopped me. I felt a responsibility to humanity to publish this comment for two reasons. First, I hope that this will remind us all to think about what we write on-line--blogs are open to the public. Second, I hope this will help us all to think about what we say/write to people and the possible ramifications that result.

Here is the comment, edited of all information that would reveal the identity of the mother or her daughter but otherwise left unaltered. I have also deleted the posted comment. Don't try to figure out who she is or who her daughter is. You don't know her. I hardly know her. And clearly, if she knew me, she wouldn't have written this.

Jeff,

I have been praying for you since I met you on July (date omitted). I really feel that you are my future son-in-law. Oh, but you are so smart and so amazing. What would ever prompt you to take a look at just an average,shy girl with an awesome testimony who has saved her first kiss for her future husband.
Yet, my grandkids are saying,"Grandma, Dad is too busy, help us out here." There are many weird people in this world. I have just entered that relm with this comment. Somtimes the Spirit really is annoying. Good Luck with your life Jeff. Your future mother-in-law believes in you too. And the alienation with my daughter that I risk when she finds out I wrote this will hopefully not span the Eternities

(name omitted)

2008-08-13T08:39:00.002-06:00

Saturday, Nauvoo. Sunday, Bountiful. Monday, New York City. Tuesday, Bucharest.

Welp, I have arrived in Romania. My head is still spinning from all that has happened these past few days and I could definitely use some shut-eye--the two hours I got in Central Park Monday morning didn't quite count as a full night of sleep. And now I have two days of research ahead of me. (Back to school, back to school...)

Nauvoo was an amazing experience. I will never be the same again. It appears my hair won't be either.

As far as the LSAT, well, I got rocked. Not completely, but I was hoping for at least four points better than I got. That might not sound like much, but it is. So, now it's back to the drawing board. Take it again? If so, when? Maybe work for a year or two before going. Maybe apply to BYU and skip the 250 grand in debt...we will see. I'm trying not to worry too much about that right now. I have more pressing issues to figure out. For example: how am I suppose to make a documentary? It was one of those great ideas I had that I wasn't completely expecting to work out...

As for Romania, I feel at home again. I am staying at a member's house (Sora Gorzo) in Sector 3 of Bucharest--the same neighborhood that I started my mission in almost five and a half years ago. Wow, I am old. I am reminded of this every time a missionary asks how long I've been home.

And yes, Romanian food is just as good as I remember.

rock or be rocked

2008-06-15T13:04:00.004-06:00

Tomorrow, Monday 16 June 2008 at 12:30, I will be taking the Law School Admissions Test. My scores are all over the board, and I'm sick, distracted, and scared to death but if Elle Woods can do it, so help me...

I can't help thinking of how nice it would be to have been recently dumped by some really hot girl for no other reason than I'm just not senator or senator's husband material. That's all I need--someone to stick it to.

I wish someone would say, "What? YOU're taking the LSAT? What makes you think..." etc. But no, everyone I talk to has to be supportive. "I'm sure you'll be fine," they say. Sure it's comforting to know that other people, who don't know how up and down my practice test scores have been, have confidence in me, but I would really appreciate it if someone would seriously question and challenge my ability to do well, really point out the fact that I am up against insurmountable odds, like "Remember the Titans," "The Great Debaters," "Rudy," "Hoosiers," or the plus-size girl in "America's Next Top Model," and despite the odds, rise to the challenge and rock the LSAT, coming out of the testing center with "We are the Champions," or any other song by QUEEN, screaming in my head.

The truth of the matter is, if I come out with any sort of a half-decent score, the victory will have to be credited to Divine Providence.

here we go...

2008-06-08T23:10:00.003-06:00

Westwater Canyon is considered by National Geographic to be the best one day white-water river trip this side of the Mississippi. The trip begins and ends with long, calm stretches of the winding Colorado River, banked by the usual red rocks of Southern Utah. Sandwiched between the two is an unbelievably intense section of white-water that makes even seasoned river guides loose in the bowels or, as is clearly recognizable by this picture, a little sweaty. As only Mother Nature could design it, the rapids are formed by a section of Vishnu Shist, a black, glossy rock that is less prone to erosion than sandstone and therefore compresses the river into a much narrower canyon and multiplies the speed and pressure of the water. Rapids such as Funnel Falls and Sock-it-to-me have stuck-it-to-me and many others. The most notorious rapid however, is Skull. This delightful rapid encompasses Skull Rock, Razor Rock, the Room of Doom and the Rock of Shock all in one clean package on a nearly ninety degree turn of the river. Looking down river as you race toward it, the river appears to drop off and dead end. If you row it correctly, your passengers don't even get wet and it simply blends in with the other rapids on a trip that they will never forget.

This week has me thinking of the river. And not just in the whiny, "I miss the river" sort of way. Somehow I have managed to compress more into this summer than ever before and time is flying by. This week is the last week of class and my last week to memorize everything for Nauvoo and study for the LSAT. Monday, June 16, is the LSAT and the first day of rehearsal for Nauvoo. Wednesday I take my final for Physical Science 100. After rehearsal ends on Saturday, I have three days to finish my proposal for my research in Romania. Then, it's off to Colorado for Nikki Wilkin's homecoming/road trip with friends. The day after I get back from Colorado, I fly out to Nauvoo. The day after I get back from Nauvoo, I fly out to Romania. The day after I get back from Romania, I have a training seminar on our new French 101 curriculum. Then school starts, work starts and law school applications start.

I will spare you the details on how unprepared I am for all of this and simply say that I am going to enjoy every minute of this summer.

2008-05-07T15:37:00.002-06:00

This, correctly filling in little circles with a No.2 pencil, is what my life hinges on. Sound overly dramatic? Well, my score on the LSAT, which I am taking June 16th, will determine which law schools will even consider my application. The school I attend will then determine my career prospects. And in a certain sense, my career will map out the rest of my life.
A perfect score is 180. If I want to go into international law, I need to go to a top ten school which means, with my GPA, I need to get in the lower 170s to even have a chance. I haven't gotten there yet, but if Reese Witherspoon can do it, I can too gosh dangit.
To give you a little taste of what I am dealing with, here's a sample question that comes from the analytical reasoning section of the test, most affectionately called "the games" section because it's so much fun!

Three folk groups--Glenside, Hilltopper, Levon--and three rock groups--Peasant, Query, Tinhead--each perform on one of two stages, north or south. Each stage has three two-hour performances: north at 6, 8, and 10; south at 8, 10, and 12. Each group performs individually and exactly once, consistent with the following conditions:
Peasant performs at 6 or 12.
Glenside performs at some time before Hilltopper.
If any rock group performs at 10, no folk group does.
Levon and Tinhead perform o different stages.
Query performs immediately after a folk group, though not necessarily on the same stage.
(that's all prologue to the questions)

If Query performs at 12, then which one of the following could be an accurate ordering of the performances on the north stage, from first to last?
a. Glenside, Levon, Query
b. Peasant, Hilltopper, Tinhead
c. Peasant, Tinhead, Glenside
d. Peasant, Tinhead, Hilltopper
e. Peasant, Tinhead, Levon

If a rock a group performs at 10, then which one of the following must be true?
a. a folk group performs at 6
b. a folk group performs at 8
c. a folk group performs at 12
d. a rock group performs at 8
e. a rock group performs at 12.

family, isn't it about freaking time?

2008-05-07T15:25:00.004-06:00

Before devoting my life to the LSAT, I went to visit my brother Tony and his beautiful family. Just a few pictures for your enjoyment. Well, more to remind of what life was like before the LSAT took over, and what it just might be like after.

my ace

2008-05-07T01:02:00.003-06:00

This is an advertisement found on the website of my LSAT prep class, ACE. I find several things to be funny. First, doesn't he look dapper? So committed to "acing" the LSAT! Well son, being the white, middle-class young man you are, you will have to ace the LSAT if you want to get into law school. Second, I met Nick Thompson a few years back. I was studying abroad in Paris and he was in the process of choosing which law school he wanted to go to. He never came out with his score, but I knew it had to be good, considering he had his pick of Yale, Harvard and Stanford. Well, now I know. Third, that isn't a picture of Nick Thompson, despite its close proximity to his quote and name. Why not a picture of Nick? Well, you see Nick is a red-head and marketing surveys show that advertisements employing photos of red-heads evoke feelings of inferiority, linked, no doubt, to the red-headed step-child phenomena.

Dancing Dirty

2008-04-16T13:45:00.005-06:00

At my dad's wedding, almost two years ago, I danced with Grandma. Mention of that dance has surfaced in every conversation we have had since that day and an enlarged, fuzzy picture of the event is proudly displayed in her living room beside the other most memorable moment in her life, her second wedding. Before my cousin Karly was even engaged, Grandma's usual reminder of our dancing began to hint at the future possibility of re-enacting that special night. She was thrilled when she found out that my brother Matt was renting a white dance floor for the event and was seen polishing it on her hands and knees after it arrived.

The night of the wedding, I found myself in charge of the bar. While I was busy mixing mocktails and Italian sodas, I could feel Grandma lingering around the bar with her eyes gleaming, waiting for our dance. When the line slowed and we ran out of pineapple juice, I seized the window of opportunity to grab Grandma and we headed onto the dance floor. Voici, the result:

The video requires some explanation. First, we happened to be the only people dancing at that time and I was painfully aware of the fact. My discomfort at being the center of attention was increased by the cameras recording every minute of it. Hence, the awkward smiles. Second, if you notice that I'm going a little fast for Grandma to keep up, that requires a confession: I didn't have much time and I figured that if I wore her out a little, one dance would be enough and she would be satisfied (not that I've ever had to worry about satisfying women). Third, yes, I almost dropped her. When I told her I was going to dip her she simply went limp and fell back.
All told, we're lucky she's still with us. Love you GRANDMA!

When Harry Reid came to BYU

2008-04-07T10:47:00.007-06:00

Harry Reid, the US Senate Majority Leader, both a democrat and LDS, spoke at BYU last fall. My friend’s boss may have called him “the spawn of Satan,” but had he listened, even he may have felt motivated to serve his fellowmen. And of course there was his testimony. A Mormon may question another’s sincerity, but involving testimony, especially when it’s a conversion, is surely number one on the Sunday School Teacher’s list of contention-calming devices. With his polished, creamy smooth, majority-leadin’ rhetoric up the other sleeve, Reid was well equipped to enter the great Republican citadel of BYU and even venture to woo some unsuspecting freshmen co-eds to explore the dark side of liberalism. It is even possible that some of his words began to take root in my own Utahan born-n-bred head as I sat transfixed by his commanding authority. Citing King Benjamin drew the final blow.

With a heart softened, even bleeding, I found myself nodding, not recoiling, at his radically democratic perspectives. As he closed, I discovered myself on my feet, clapping my cymbal hands in support like a precisely wound monkey. Soon a cold guilt washed away my enthusiasm as I was faced with a chilling question: Could I be...dare I entertain the idea and spit in the face of religious conservatism, disgrace my family, destroy the very moral fabric of society?...could I be...heaven forbid...a democrat?

In fear of being ostracized by my entire extended family, I have chosen to leave this question unanswered for the time being. But I can't help entertaining the oh-so-dangerous idea. After all, I do believe in gun control and...I better stop there. I tend to jeopardize my welcome at family parties every time I open my mouth.