Desensitized

     I've often thought about how desensitized I am to violence. Violence on TV and in the movies, it had stopped bothering me. I'm not exactly sure when this happened. I didn't grow up allowed to watch whatever I wanted (my parents banned me from Power Rangers because it had too much fighting!) and I don't think I watch overtly violent movies regularly but nonetheless I can watch someone get shot on TV, get hit with a bat, or kicked in the side and not think twice. That is, until recently I could watch those things.
     Dan had seen the movie Drive with his buddy Chris. They came back raving about it. It was so good. Dan couldn't stop talking about it -- he had enjoyed it thoroughly. His reaction made me turn my head and actually want to see it (along with the fact that Ryan Gosling stars) because film praise from Dan doesn't come easily; he was willing to pay money to see it again. So, naturally, I was intrigued and we went to go see it the next weekend. 
     No one warned me. Or maybe I didn't hear. The last half of the movie, the movie that, up until that point, had been slightly boring with the long silences, little dialogue, and driving scenes, became unapologetically violent. Like, slow motion gun shot murder, head being kicked in on an elevator (seconds after the hero kisses the girl for the first time, read: deal breaker), and many other acts that I only heard because my tear filled eyes were digging into Dan's shoulder, willing the scene, if not the movie, to end. 
     It finally ended and as we were walking out Dan asked about my reaction: "I didn't realize that it would bother you that much, I mean, you watch Walking Dead, which has tons of violence in its own right, without blinking an eye." 
     I tried to gather my thoughts, "When we watch The Walking Dead we are operating under the assumption that the Zombie's are not people, they are monsters, they will kill you; they are not living. This movie killed people, not the greatest people ever, but people. Their lives should matter more than that." 
     I think even I was surprised by my reaction. I had seen violence before, no? What changed? Part of me feels like I can trace it back to my experience at the gun range a few months ago. The first (and most likely last) time I had ever held a gun and felt it go off in my hands. It scared me to my core. This thing was created to kill. It is a weapon of death and people should not have them. Before you think I'm getting all preachy and trying to take away your second amendment right to bear arms, I'm not, I just hate the things and my experience with them changed how I view violence. 
     Up until that point I had never heard a gun in real life. It is loud. The gun shots on television and in the movies don't do it justice. Now, when I see a character point a gun at someone I wince. Do they know what they are doing? The power they have to take a life? And, it's only a character. I recently looked at the famous image from the Vietnam War where, after the Tet Offensive, a Viet Cong soldier has a gun to his head in the middle of the street. Violence. It's real. Why should I pay to watch it glorified?
     I am rereading Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment for my 19th century European History class. I was in the library reading, annotating, looking up words when I arrived at Rodya's dream. Dostoevsky describes the brutal treatment of an old horse that leads to its demise. The section was about three or four pages long; Dostoevsky doesn't do anything short. He describes the horses eyes, his tense body, his leg kicking out in a pathetic attempt at defense. I cried. I cried in the library cafe at school. I wasn't sobbing, it was silent, but tears were there. In public. Which might be fitting as my sister, Julia, pointed out: "The concepts of secrecy and privacy versus known and public, that are present in the book, almost demand it." 
     She makes a good, literary point but I am still shocked at my reaction. I mean, animal violence always gets me (shoot, the dog being put to sleep in that horrible Aniston-Owens flick had me sobbing for an hour easily) but I wasn't able to control my emotion and that is what took me off guard. Usually, I can catalogue violence -- it's not real, it's fiction. Those are characters, actors, they aren't really dead. I still know all those things are true but something has changed. I'm not upset at the change, I was upset at my desensitization. It seems that I have become sensitized again and I hope it doesn't leave. 

Way to Go, Paula!

Remember that scene from An Officer and A Gentleman when Richard Gere strides in to Paula's workplace and rescues her from a life in a factory? Well, yesterday was just like that for me. Except Dan didn't rescue me from my factory line job. But he did stride into American Eagle carrying some pretty yellow flowers in the middle of the day. And he's an officer, so he's just like Richard Gere. 

 Yesterday on my way to work my car started giving me trouble. When stopped at a red light, with my foot on the brake, instead of idling like normal that little Cavalier just died. In the middle of the street, died. So, I  quickly popped it into neutral started the car and kept driving when the light turned green. Then another red light came and it happened again. Then the major thoroughfare was reduced from four lanes to two lanes and you can imagine that my Chevy did not want to cooperate in stop and go traffic. Nope, not at all. During all this I had called Dan freaking out. My side of the conversation went something like this: "This is a devil-car! I am going to die!!!" Told you I had a flair for the dramatic. His response was much more calm, "Alright, I'm leaving now. Can you pull over in a gas station and call work to see if someone can pick you up?" Gosh, so logical. I felt so relieved to have him on his way that I instantly relaxed. Somehow I maneuvered my car into an Exxon parking lot and called AE. About two hours into my shift husband comes walking in with flowers. But instead of carrying me out of the factory, I took my ten minute break and we got an Auntie Anne's pretzel. What a perfect ending to an Officer and a Gentleman Part Deux. A more perfect ending would be that my car gets out of the garage for under $100 dollars, but who are we kidding this is real life. 

my blog. my show.

Blog Name

Back in high school I was a theatre kid. You know, theatre class, high school productions, community productions, dreams of fame. My best friend and I always had a flair for the dramatic. We would crawl across the room channeling Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey, we would yell "This is Nazi Germany!" at the horrible yard duties who wouldn't let us go to our cars after our campus closed -- we were nuts and, when we get together, still are. 

Well, our favorite movie of all time was "Get Over It." If you haven't seen it you need to. It's got a dream cast: Kirsten Dunst, Ben Foster, Mila Kunis, Shane West, and the incredible Martin Short as Dr. Desmond Forrest Oates.

Oh yeah, and Sisqó. Sisqó, people. Enough said. 

Anyway, they are doing A Midsummer Nights Rockin' Eve, a musical all the while the movie is based on A Mid Summer Night's Dream. At one point the lead male in the musical gets pummeled by a huge sand bag and his leg breaks. 

Theatre is his life. 

So, as he is rolled out on a gurney by the paramedics he yells, "This is my theatre, my show! Forrest Oates is my special buddy!" It gets us every time. 

So when I was considering blogging I was trying to figure out what to name the blog. Of course I went to my best friend, and blogging guru, for some naming advice and she says, "My Theatre! My Show!" And it was just too good to pass up.

I tweaked it to My Blog so people wouldn't confuse this for a theatre/actor blog and the rest, as they say, is history. So thanks, Bran. I think I'll keep you around. 

agua para los elefantes

Date Night! Actually, every night seems like date night. Even when all we do is make dinner and watch a movie or play scrabble. Last night we went to see Water for Elephants. I'll let you draw your own conclusions. But here are my thoughts in a nut shell: 

1. The infidelity aspect of Marlena and Jacob's relationship seemed much more apparent in the movie than in the book. 

2. I hate any form of animal brutality and those parts brought tears to my eyes.

3. Marlena's clothes are awesome and I want them. 

4. I had never been to the circus before (I don't think) and it was spectacular. 

5. The book, as always, was better. But they gave it a fair shake, and it was still fun to watch. Especially when the Elephant does tricks. 

parades always remind me of drop dead gorgeous

Every time I go to a parade I half expect to see Hank with his overalls stuck in the car and a big swan float, "Yep, this is how I always imagined it, choking on swan gas." But usually parades are about, maybe, an hour. The azalea festival parade? 3. Hours. Long. We only stayed for about an hour and a half because it was freezing and we still saw at least 10 different beauty queens representing different pageants. That's a lot of queens. "The swan ate my baby!" Also, I hope you noticed all the celebrities that attended our festival --  only the best for the Azalea festival (and by best I mean people I've never heard of). And now the parents Burkhart are trying to get the heck outta dodge. We had a blast with them and can't wait for more family to come out and visit, friends are welcome too :) 

Howl.

Top: Issac Mizrahi for Target, Seater: Target, Skirt: H&M, Boots: Nordstrom, Belt: Modcloth, Tights: Target

Day one of the thirty for thirty, ladies and gentlemen. I wore rain boots because they said there was a 20% chance of rain this morning and that was as great an excuse as any to wear my over-the-knee rain boots, not that I need an excuse, I think they are fantastic. 

On another note, I saw Howl last night; James Franco as Allen Ginsberg. I went for three reasons: a) I get extra credit in my Lit class, b) Dan is gone so what else do I have to do?, and c) James Franco is hot. Now, I am not an English major and I don't like Poetry that much (gasp!) but I figured it would be pretty good, I like independent films. 
I. Am. So. Hip. 
About 5 minutes into the film we find out that he was friends with Jack Kerouac which instantly clouded my opinion of Ginsberg. I read On the Road by Kerouac last summer and I was unimpressed and slightly concerned at the quality of literature we apparently publish in this country. If someone reading this enjoys Kerouac, by all means explain what you like about him -- I honestly will listen with an open-mind; I am just not a fan. Back to Ginsberg, I have never read "Howl" (Ginsberg's poem, the film was based on) and watching the film definitely did not make me understand it more. Franco did an excellent job though. So, that's something.

 Highlight of my night? 

As everyone was walking out of the theatre I overhear the young girl behind me say, 
"Ya, that's why I didn't want to ask my friends to come because I knew it was an independent film about a guy who was really weird." 
Great insight. 

photophuneleven + blog news

Day Eleven: 

A Photo of Your Favorite Film(s)

I am my father's daughter. Galaxy Quest is one of the most quotable movies in the world. It's hilarious and the casting was fantastic. What About Bob? is by far one of my favorite Bill Murray films. His timing is incredible.  

That Thing You Do! is every band's movie and I love how any band you meet can quote this movie backwards and forwards, also Tom Hanks is super talented - wrote, directed, and acted in. The Darjeeling Limited is a lesser known film but is so dry and witty plus I love all three of the leads, I have a crush on Adrian Brody. 

What are your favorite movies? 

As for the news, I am super excited about this. My sister Julia had an awesome idea for all of us sisters. We're going to start a co-blog with all five of us using mainly photos. Essentially, we'll choose one word for a week and take pictures during the week that reflect that word, we'll then each pick one picture and post them to see the different interpretations of that word. Reminiscent of BBC's "Week in Pictures" only it'll be "Word in Pictures." Fun, huh? I'll let you know when we launch it. 

Any suggestions for a word of the week?

When Harry Met Sally

I often say things that get me into trouble. By that I mean, things slip out of my mouth before I have a chance to review them and people laugh, usually at my expense. Not that I mind, I was brought up with a very healthy sense of self-deprecation. These slips-of-tongue normally happen in front of large groups of people and what better forum than facebook? 

Dan had come home for Christmas and when he found out that I had never seen When Harry Met Sally he sat me down to watch it. I was skeptical because I am not convinced that Meg Ryan can actually act but we watched and I loved. Billy Crystal is so funny and I don't know, maybe I just have a thing for Jewish men, but does anyone else find him attractive? 

Anyway, we watched, I loved, and I typed up a tribute quote onto my facebook status.

 Because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible. 

Such a great line, right? A cinematic classic. I leave it at that and carry on with the rest of my day. Dan and I were at the mall when I got a call from my mother that went something like this:

"Hello?"

"Rachel, you need to change your facebook."

"What? Why?"

"People think you are engaged."

"WHAT?!!?"

The exact wording might be slightly different but you get the idea. People had called my mom and texted my sisters all asking the same question, "Are they engaged?" 

We got back to my house and I ran to the computer to check my account and lo and behold underneath my smart little quote were a handful of comments including one from my pastor offering his congratulations! I shrieked. I was mortified. I couldn't believe this turn of events. 

I quickly typed up a retraction and vowed that I would put all future quotes in between actual quotation marks so as not to be confused with real statements. Interestingly enough we got engaged a month later, but I definitely did not announce it with a movie quote. 

Ate, Prayed, Loved?

I must be the only american female who didn't enjoy the book Eat, Pray, Love. To be fair, I didn't finish it. I read through Italy and India and about 2 pages into Indonesia I gave up. I didn't know this was a "personal growth" story; I thought it was a travel story. Needless to say I was very disappointed in the India portion since I am in love with the place, spent time there, and desperately can't wait to go back. Spending your entire time in an Ashram in India does not seem to me a good picture of what India is.

I went to see the movie for a couple of reasons: (1) because one of the reasons I disliked the book was it just dragged on, I hoped the transition to film would help speed things up, (2) because I was now fully prepared that this was a "personal growth" story, and (3) because I love Julia Roberts. So, I rode my (new, red) bike along the pier to downtown newport and went to the local movie theatre. This movie theatre was converted from an old opera house and the main theatre is amazing -- Dan and I saw inception there and I was itching for a chance to go back. I decided I wouldn't make Dan go see this one (mostly because I want him to see The Kids Are Alright with me and I was scared Eat, Pray, Love might jeopardize my movie-picking abilities in his eyes). Boy, was I glad I didn't drag him along.

To quote a dear friend "Yeah. It was pretty. The food looked awesome. Julia was good...but...meh." My thoughts exactly (one of the reasons that friend is a dear friend). It made me want to go back to Italy for pizza. Right then. I didn't need to finish the movie. I just needed to eat

a whole thin crusted pizza by myself -- yes, i did that a few times while in Italy. But the one scene that really spoke to me? It was a split second long. Julia had just arrived in India, she pulled up to the Ashram and is headed in to meditate with the other followers of this particular guru. However, neither Julia nor the Ashram caught my attention. It was the man who welcomed her and showed her in and ran before her to find her a mat to sit on and a place to sit. You never see that man again, but he almost made me cry. I miss those people. Those people were so eager to help and show and welcome. I also enjoyed the scenes between Julia and the young indian girl. My heart broke, as it has before, as I listened to this girl's dreams and hopes for her future. There were so many young women and girls I met while in India and I wanted nothing more than to give them the chance to do whatever they dreamed of. For some of them that would be marriage, for others learning English, or going to University.

I love India. It's so colorful and exciting and loud and smelly. It's amazing. I just don't think Eat, Pray, Love did it justice, whether in book or film. There's just more to it than that.