When I'm a Movie Critic...

There may be many movie/theatre critics out there who think they have a good method for determining what makes a "good" show. Well, here are two more.

Jennie and I decide how good something is by how much liquor you need to have ingested to enjoy yourself. For something like the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie you can have fun watching that movie stone cold sober. When I watched Fight Club I wished that I'd had a couple of beers to sip for the first half and a couple pints of everclear for the second half. Woah.

My mom and I know that we like something when we get in the car and say, "Didn't you love the part where..." The more of those moments we find and the longer we're talking about them, then the more we liked the movie.

After we saw the new Star Trek, we were oohing and aahing over it for days. I'm stilling oohing, but it's more internal now.

Note: this works just as well for theatre as it does for films.

Didn't you love that part where Spock turned down his admission into the Vulcan Science Academy and told the Vulcan elders to "Live long and prosper"? Yeah, me too!

Culture, Taste, Wisdom, & Words

You haven't heard from me in ages, you say?

Well, last weekend, I went to the symphony, the opera, and a beer-tasting. Keith Lockhart is on the verge of leaving the Utah Symphony, so the parental units and I caught his last "Pops" concert. They played everything from The Blue Danube and Boogie-Woogie Bugle Boy to the Beatles. Lots of fun! That was Thursday.

Friday, I went with my grandparents to see The Marriage of Figaro by Utah Opera. Watching it, you could tell exactly why Mozart was revered as highly as he was. Truly amazing. LONG, but amazing. A happy opera. Wow!

Saturday night, our group of friends that meets for a monthly wine-tasting, met for the annual because-it's-St.-Patrick's-Day beer-tasting. I find that my taste for beer has waned somewhat. There was some of my favorite Bass there and it just wasn't as tasty as I remembered. I guess as my knowledge of wine grows, my palate has changed. Or I'm a freak. Take your pick.

This just past Friday, another of my mother's infamous teas was on the books. "Pearls of Wisdom" was the theme of this one. I don't know how "wise" we were after the two bottles of champagne we had, but we didn't really care.

My pearl of wisdom for the day?

"Mastering yourself, makes you fearless."
-Lao Tzu

A huge congrats to Ang and her honey-man on their new arrival!!! Go happy for you guys! She's beautiful!

Delayed Gratification is Highly Overrated

Is it Monday? Is it Friday? Who cares! It's 9am and I'm still in my jammies! I love not having school.

I also love getting Christmas presents early. I never was one for delayed gratification and neither was my mother. She caved the other night and gave me the first season of The Big Bang Theory on DVD.

Here's my latest favorite quote. (Only ten more days until the Doctor Who Christmas special!)

Leonard: What are you doing?

Sheldon: Every Saturday since we've lived in this apartment, I have awakened at 6:15, poured myself a bowl of cereal, added a quarter-cup of 2% milk, sat on this end of this couch, turned on BBC America, and watched Doctor Who.

Leonard: Penny's still sleeping.

Sheldon: Every Saturday since we've lived in this apartment, I have awakened at 6:15, poured myself a bowl of cereal...

Leonard: You have a TV in your room, why don't you just have breakfast in bed?

Sheldon: Because I am neither an invalid nor a woman celebrating Mother's Day.

Ballet and the Bard, Part 2

The Tempest was quite lovely on Saturday. You could tell the really good dancers, though, because you couldn't hear them land when they leaped.

One of my favorite parts was the very beginning. They had Shakespeare writing on a blank black stage in a spot light. Ariel then flew in over his head. And poof! There was Prospero, appeared out of thin air. It was very effective.

The second act was mostly wedding celebration for Miranda and Ferdinand, so the gods were in evidence. Juno and Neptune, Ceres and Bacchus, Iris and her rainbows, etc.

Mum and I had lunch at the Hong Kong Tea House in Salt Lake. We did not have the steamed chicken feet, but stuck with some very tasty potstickers and eggrolls. The "silver wrapped chicken" was OK, but far too much work to make it worthwhile. The experience was a hoot and we'll definitely be back.

Ballet and the Bard

My mom and I are going to see The Tempest tomorrow. Not the lovely evocation by Mr. Shakespeare, but the interpretation by Ballet West. Yup, a ballet of The Tempest. And I am SUPER excited! I haven't seen a ballet in years and I think that was The Nutcracker (which I love, by the way).

We're taking Frontrunner (the local commuter train) down to Salt Lake and hoofing it to the Capitol Theatre. The Capitol is a lovely theatre and I've seen everything there from Les Miserables and Jekyll & Hyde to the Utah Opera's Turandot and The Magic Flute. ( I admit I had much more fun at the first two than at the last two.)



Expect a full report on Monday!

You Want Me to Accentuate It?!

Last Monday, the woman who teaches our african dance class was out of town. Did we just go home and sit on our asses? Well, yeah, but only after class!

Candace, one of our fellow classmates, gave us a belly dance lesson! Talk about awesome. There were veils and jingly shawls to go around your hips. (You only want those if you're really good, otherwise the jingling at the wrong time gives you away.)

It makes you feel sexy and curvaceous. (No, that's not a kind of dinosaur. Read a book!)

There are a few moves that will, hopefully, help us rid ourselves of our muffin tops. Think of a figure 8 with your hips, with your knees bent and your gut sucked in as far as it will go.

Today, Deja's back so we're returning to the dark continent.

*Jingle, jingle*

Dancin' Fool

Last Saturday, my mom and I went to the Eccles Community Art Center to take an African dance class. It was weird to actually take a class there, instead of teaching one. (We taught two through six year olds how to skip for ten years.) The teaching master was named Ibou Ngom and he's from Senegal.

Since he couldn't remember anybody's name, he just made up names for us. He called me Jessica and Jennifer. I figured, "Whatever. He's adorable." There was a blonde woman who got a little irked when he called her Britney Spears. Full points for her.

The dance style was called Sabar and was a lot of fun. Ibou kept nagging us to keep smiling. It's hard to smile when you can't catch your breath.

After an hour and a half, we "knew" all the steps for a celebration/welcome dance. It was, quite literally, a kick in the pants.

After we had gone home and showered off the copious amounts of sweat, we went to a dinner party at the home of the woman who had organized Ibou's visit. (She also teaches a regular African dance class.) He cooked chicken with peanut sauce for us that was tastiest food I've had in quite a while. There was also homemade hummus, brownies with applesauce, a bulgar wheat salad with cucumbers and feta, and many bottles of wine.

Apparently we crapped out of the party before the real fun began, but we had a great time anyway.

An excellent way to pass a Saturday. And tomorrow? A trip to the Fine Arts Museum in Salt Lake City for a day of Monet, Rodin, and Gainsborough.

And to think of all those people in Los Angeles who thought I'd have no exposure to culture in Utah. I'll show them, won't I?