“And they used Bon Ami!”

The Ghost and Mr. Chicken (1966)

I remember once, back in high school, a local movie theater (one of those art-house types with only one screen) showed this in October, and my family went. The crowd consisted of my family, Jen’s family, and maybe two or three other people. Which is a crying shame, because this movie is hilarious.

It’s a movie that was specifically designed for Don Knotts, who plays typesetter Luther Heggs. In fact, it was most likely based off a particular episode in The Andy Griffith Show involving a haunted house and deputy Barney Fife’s reaction to it. The plot is pretty simple: Luther is a typesetter who dreams of being a reporter for his small-town newspaper in Rachel, Kansas. For reasons of his own, the newspaper’s custodian (Liam Redmond) surreptitiously arranges for Luther to spend the night in the old Simmons mansion (the house from Psycho, making a guest appearance), where an apparent murder-suicide took place years before. Luther jumps at the chance to write an article about the old house and the mystery, even though he’s scared out of his wits. And indeed, when he’s there at the Simmons place, some very strange things happen. Overnight, Luther is a hero, even getting some fairly encouraging responses from his bosses’ girl, Alma Parker (Joan Staley)—until, of course, Nicholas Simmons (the owner of the house and the son of the unhappy couple who died, played by Phil Ober) sues the paper for libel. It’s campy and silly—and it knows it. And it doesn’t care. In fact, it revels in it.

In my mind, this is a perfect family Halloween flick: it’s got some genuinely spooky parts, especially for little kids (the particular scene that comes to mind is when the phonograph in the cellar starts playing at a frenetic pace; man, that would have made me jump!), but the comedy and the explain-it-all ending makes the scary stuff easily forgotten. What’s not forgettable, though, is the plethora of quotable lines. Who, having seen this movie, can resist yelling “Atta boy, Luther!” when someone is making a speech? Who isn’t tempted to exclaim “Hail cosmic chief!” at opportune moments? What writer isn’t compelled to remark “when you work with words, words are your work” when receiving a compliment? Or, my all-time favorite, who would hesitate to exclaim, when eating a satisfying meal, “My mother liked good food. She always said she’d rather eat good food than bad food any old day of the week.” My family, of course, being my family, takes one of the lines a step further than usual: the two old ladies at Luther’s rooming house, who are always trying to one-up each other (“You mean you’ve heard him play?”) are arguing over whether or not the Nicholas Simmons has blue eyes or dark. One insists that all the Simmonses have dark eyes: “I never liked his eyes. So dark,” she remarks (“They were blue.” “Dark eyes!”). So, of course, whenever anything is dark, whether it be the color of a jacket or the tone of a movie or a room without any lights on, we say “it must be a Simmons ______.” Must be a Simmons gravy, must be a Simmons book, etc. Just the thought of that inside joke fills me with glee.

Most of the clips I found on You Tube are entirely too spoilery, so I’ll just treat you to the horribly campy trailer instead:

Watch. This. Movie.

“DEATH COMES UNEXPECTEDLY!!”

Pollyanna (1960)

I haven’t checked into it thoroughly, but I’m fairly certain that this movie is the only Disney film to feature nudity. Sure, it’s the backside of a 11-ish year-old boy skinny dipping in a creek, but it’s always cracked me up. This movie is fluffy and kinda cheesy and incredibly optimistic, but I love it. Sometimes, you need fluffy and cheesy and incredibly optimistic. Sometimes, you want to be Pollyanna.

This was Hayley Mills’ first movie for Hollywood (she’d previously appeared in a film produced in England titled Tiger Bay), and she’s simply amazing as Pollyanna Whittier, an orphan who comes to a small town named Harrington, named after her grandfather, where her old-maid Aunt Polly (Jane Wyman) pretty much runs the town. Polly is not unkind, but is cold and forbidding, as is the rest of the town. Everyone snipes at each other, from the chambermaid to the mayor. The reverend gives hellfire and damnation sermons once a week, the Ladies’ Aid society gives charity baskets out of a sense of duty to people who are forced to accept them whether they want it or not. Old hypochondriac ladies terrorize the neighborhood and their daughters, and hermits keep kids locked up in their basements (okay, he doesn’t, but that’s the rumor :P). It’s not a very friendly place– until Pollyanna comes to town. Despite her tragic history (before her parents died, she’d lived in poverty in the British West Indies–used to explain her English accent in a small American town), she’s upbeat and optimistic. She finds joy in the smallest things– getting new clothes, having a room of her own, having roast chicken on Sundays. It’s all part of her father’s philosophy, the Glad Game, where you find something to be glad about, no matter how bad your circumstances might be.

While initially resistant to Pollyanna’s unconquerable enthusiasm for life, one by one the townspeople succumb to her charm, and life begins to change in Harrington town. The only one left unchanged is aunt Polly– at least, she remains unchanged until a tragic accident occurs. But this is a Disney film, and of course, there’s a happy ending.

Along the way, there’s some great quotable lines. From “Well, let’s just say there are about sixty eleven things you could have said besides that!” and “Go away from me, please, little boy” to “There’s something kind of, I don’t know, funny about him” and “What do you know about it? You’re nothing but a child!” and “And you know I can do it too!!” there’s a lot of good stuff to quote (but don’t try to pass off “If you look for the bad in mankind expecting to find it, you surely will” as actually being said by Abraham Lincoln, because he never said that. They made it up. :P). And then there’s the bazaar scene. Man, that bazaar. My dad remembers having these kinds of church functions in his youth, but they just don’t do things like this anymore:

Someday, I’m going to make a gigantic three-layer cake like that. I dream about those cakes and that watermelon and. . . mmmmm. The lady on the drums cracks me up. And my family cannot, absolutely cannot sing “America the Beautiful” without saying “BRAAAAtherhood.” It’s a physical impossibility.

If you’ve never seen this movie, or if it’s been a while (I know my parents used to watch it every year in school– did any of you ever watch it in school?), please see it. It’s an absolutely charming film.

“I think he did a little too much LDS”

Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home (1986)

If I were ever to make a series of posts about TV Shows My Family Quotes, I believe it would be safe to say that the majority of those quotes would come from Star Trek (mostly the Next Generation, but there’s a few from the original series that get trotted out every now and then) – although M*A*S*H would be a close second, and I’m not counting Animaniacs here, because it would more properly belong in the Cartoons My Family Quotes series. Anyway. Long before we began quoting “We look for things. Things we need. Things to make us go,” and “Battai. Go home,” and “You’re so stolid. You weren’t like that before the beard!” we were quoting this movie.

A big reason for that is because, of all the Star Trek movies, this is the funniest. Since most of our quotes are used for comedic effect, it would make sense that most of the movies we quote are funny ones. (Incidentally, as the second-funniest Star Trek movie, Insurrection also gets quoted at my house. It’s not on my current list, but if I ever do a second installment, it’d be included.)

For anyone who’s never seen this film, here’s the basic outline of the plot: The crew of the Enterprise, having destroyed said ship in an effort to reclaim Spock (who died and left his consciousness in Doctor McCoy’s mind, then was reborn again on the Genesis planet), set off for earth in a stolen Klingon warbird to face trial for the destruction of the ship (among other things). But as they near Earth, they are warned away—a mysterious probe is orbiting the planet, wreaking havoc on ships in the solar system and vaporizing the Earth’s oceans. Spock and Kirk and Uhurua figure out that the sound the probe is making is the call of the humpback whale—which has been extinct on Earth for centuries. In an effort to save the Earth, the crew slingshot the warbird around the Sun and travel back in time—to 1986, where they find two whales, George and Gracie just perfect to bring back to the future. Of course, their caretaker, Dr. Gillian Taylor (Catherine Tate), doesn’t want to just hand her precious whales over to a couple of weirdos claiming to be from the future. And boy, are the crew weird—especially Spock, who hasn’t quite recovered from his death yet, and is therefore even more out of place than he usually would be:

And as a good Mormon girl I hate to have to admit this, but I (and everyone else in my family, too) sometimes find profanity extremely funny. Not most of the time. Sometimes. And Star Trek IV is one of those times. This was the movie I’d planned to do next, when I substituted Ten Commandments, because I felt guilty writing about this movie on a Sunday. Because whenever I think about Spock and his colorful metaphors, I can’t stop myself from laughing. And then feeling a little ashamed. (Incidentally, I also find the things that people say in place of swearing funny. Like Colonel Potter’s variations on “horse hockey” and “mule muffins,” etc. Hilarious!)

Now, being a good Mormon family, we don’t often actually say those colorful-metaphor-laced lines. At least not all the way. But luckily for us, the funny swearing lines aren’t the only good lines in this movie. There’s also stuff like “Admiral, if we were to assume these whales are ours to do with as we please we would be as guilty as those who caused—past tense—their destruction. I have a photographic memory, I see words,” and “No, I’m from Iowa, I only work in outer space,” and “Hello, computer. . .” and “We’re looking for the nuclear wessels” and “Doctor gave me a pill and I grew a new kidney!” and. . . so, so many others. We like this movie because one of the ships that gets disabled by the probe in the beginning is called the Saratoga, which was the aircraft carrier my grandpa served on in WWII. In fact, Grandpa hated Star Trek in general (he always seemed to turn it on when they were playing the episode with the Gorn, and thought it was ridiculous. Which, you know, that episode is), but he loved this movie. And we like this movie because—let’s face it—time travel movies are fun, especially in something like this, where we get to see characters we know and love react to our own times. I mean, who hasn’t wanted to give a punk kid on the bus a Vulcan neck pinch now and then?

Next time, we take a step back into a much simpler time.

This is a favorite movie of my family, especially for Sunday viewing.

“Who is this fair young god entering into the house of Pharoah?”

The Ten Commandments (1956)

This is a movie everyone should see at least once, if for no other reason but that they just don’t make movies like this any more. No one did the spectacular epics like Cecil B. DeMille, and The Ten Commandments, his last picture, is arguably his absolute best. And it has a shirtless Yul Brynner. What’s not to like?

In many ways, this movie is quotable simply because of the way it is written. The writers were simply incapable of writing straight dialogue–every line, to paraphrase Elizabeth Bennet, is designed to amaze the whole audience, and be handed down to posterity with all the éclat of a proverb–and DeMille milks every bit of majesty from them he can. From “I am the son of your body” to “So let it be written, so let it be done,” the whole movie can be seen as hopelessly corny. And you know what, in a lot of ways, it is. Which is one of the reasons I love it. It’s all so dramatic, and often realism is sacrificed for drama.

Take the scene I screencapped above. It’s where Moses’ wife, Sephora, informs Moses that Joshua has arrived among their sheep (although neither know it’s Joshua yet). Rather than point backwards with her right hand (since her left is holding her staff), she points across her body as she yells “Moses! There’s a man among the sheep!” Much more dramatic, yes, but– oh, so funny. And I must admit that the vast majority of the lines we quote from this film are used in an ironic way that was certainly never intended.

But while a lot of the film is hokey, some of it is just as awe-inspiring as DeMille intended. Take the Exodus of Israel from Egypt. Just the number of extras they had in that scene is flabbergasting. Nowadays all those people would be computer-generated, like the herds of Orcs in Lord of the Rings. But in The Ten Commandments, there really were that many people. And animals. And carts. Can you imagine the logistics involved? It’s staggering. (Incidentally, I can’t see that scene without remembering when our high school’s TV-announcement production, Spartanvision, made an ad for a the senior’s all-night graduation party using this clip, with Moses saying loudly “Remember this day when the strong hand of the Lord leads you out of bondage”, except they had someone (badly) overdubbing “the Lord” with the name of our principal. Cracks me up to this day.)

The special effects, and there were a lot of them, were top-notch for their day, and most of them still stand up pretty well. No computers were used for the famous parting of the Red Sea (and I love this scene because of the group of 3 women watching the action while dramatically clasping their bosoms and looking as sexily awed as possible. :P):

Anyway. I love this movie. All 3 hours and 40 minutes of it.

“Is it possible he met her while doing charitable work in a mental infirmary?”

Emma (2006)

It will come as no surprise to most of you that I like movie adaptations of Jane Austen’s works (well, some of them. Others make me want to throw things at the television/movie screen). What may surprise you, though, is that this enjoyment extends to my whole family—and not just my mom and my sisters. My father and brother are both extremely cultured men, and enjoy a good “chick flick” as much as any of us women in the family (we’re slowly converting my brother-in-law as well). My brother always says that movies that most men would consider “chick flicks” were just good movies to him when he was growing up. So don’t be too shocked when a number of romantic films show up on this list.

One of the most quotable of the recent Austen adaptations is Emma, starring Gwyneth Paltrow and Jeremy Northam (mmmm, Jeremy Northam . . .). Many an Austen purist would disagree with me, but I much prefer this adaptation of the novel to the Kate Beckinsale/Mark Strong version, which was aired on TV the same year, and which in many ways is truer to the spirit of the novel. I would argue, however, that the Miramax version is a perfectly valid reading of the novel, if a bit more of a surface reading than the A&E version. And besides, Jeremy Northam is a million times hotter than Mark Strong. Just sayin.’

Also, the Miramax version is just funnier, at least in a verbal sense. Many of the best lines weren’t necessarily written by Austen, but they feel like they could have been. The lines my family quotes are mostly uttered by Miss Bates, played with considerable panache by Emma Thompson’s sometimes-overlooked sister, Sophie Thompson (although one could argue that the best performance of the movie belongs to Phyllida Law, mother to both Emma and Sophie, who plays Mrs. Bates absolutely perfectly without ever saying a word), but not all of them. For every time we quote “Hungry, Mother” (spoken by Miss Bates completely off-screen), or “It left us speechless, quite speechless, actually; and we have not stopped talking of it since”, you’ll also find us uttering “The Coles are nice people, but we should have to go outside to get there” or “How interesting, Miss Smith,” or “He offends me. Deeply.” Good, good, stuff.

One of the things I like best about the film is the way it combines the dialogue with brilliant cinematography. Watch the sequence directly after Mr. Elton leaves for Bath, where the scenes flow together seamlessly through bridging dialogue and voice-overs, clear up until the Cole’s party–where worlds of emotions are conveyed through close-ups alone. Or one of my favorite scenes (which is the one I screencaped above), where Emma and Knightley are discussing the upcoming ball at the Weston’s. At first, all you can see is that Emma and Knightley are standing on a lawn somewhere—and then the camera flips around to reveal the enormous Donwell Abbey in the background as Knightley utters the line “I just want to stay here where it’s cozy.” Fabulous.

My absolute favorite moment in the film, however, is so subtle that many people completely miss it. You can see it in this clip:

When Knightley and Emma dance at the ball, on their first do-si-do, they’re supposed to move around each other without touching. But Knightley reaches out and puts his hand around Emma’s waist. It’s a perfect moment. And Emma’s confused face throughout the rest of the dance is so. . . just. . . *sigh* I love it.

Next time: something completely different.

More, specifically, a series about Movies My Family Quotes. I’m starting with 31 movies. There are many more that I could add. And that’s not even counting all the TV shows and church films and cartoons (oh, the cartoons!) which I’m not even touching. I got the idea from conversations with my co-workers, where I realized that the movies that my family quotes are not always the movies everyone quotes. But when someone recognizes a quote from one of our movies, I know I’ve got a kindred spirit. So I thought I’d share my love for some of these amazing films. Who knows– maybe you’ll find a new favorite. Or you’ll discover that we’re also kindred spirits. I have no idea what my posting schedule will be, although I’m going to try to do at least 3 movies a week.

I thought I’d start off big– with the mother of all quotable movies. At least for my family. I remember one camping trip with assorted extended Bytheway relatives, we sat around the campfire for at least 20 minutes, spouting line after line from this movie. If we tried hard enough, I think we could, collectively, quote the whole thing from beginning to end.

“Propriety? Noun: Conformity to established standards of behavior or manner, suitability, rightness, or justice. See: etiquette”

What’s Up, Doc? (1972)

I changed that first quote at least 10 times, because there are just that many good lines. The ironic thing is, Barbra Streisand hates this movie– and yet it’s the one Streisand film that I can stand to watch. For the recent DVD release, they managed to talk her into doing a commentary on selected scenes, and it’s obvious that she’s seeing them almost for the first time. She keeps making comments like “Oh, this is funny!” Yeah, Barbra, it is. Hilarious, in fact.

In making this film, writer and director Peter Bogdanovich wanted to hark back to the screwball comedies of the 30’s. Classics like Bringing up Baby and It Happened One Night and Arsenic and Old Lace (which will be making an appearance later in this series). And I think he succeeded admirably. From the physical comedy to the absurd plot to the witty quick-fire repartee, it’s a film that’s full of laughs from beginning (“Yes, Eunice”) to end (“That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard”).

The plot centers around 4 identical plaid traveling cases. One belongs to our hero, Howard Bannister (Ryan O’Neal), and is full of igneous rocks that Howard, a musicologist, believes may have been used by primitive man to create music. One belongs to our heroine (Judy Maxwell) and is full of clothes and books. One belongs to Mrs. Van Hoskins (Mabel Albertson), a wealthy socialite, and is filled with expensive jewels. And one belongs to Mr. Smith (Michael Murphy)–although he’s never named in the movie, that’s how he’s listed in the credits– and is full of top secret government documents. Through a series of coincidences, all four bags and all four owners end up at the Hotel Bristol in San Fransisco, where the hotel clerk and house detective want to steal the jewels, Mr. Jones wants to steal the documents, and Judy wants to get to know Howard a little better (okay, a lot better) despite his already having a fiancee named Eunice Burns (Madeline Kahn, in her first role). The cases, of course, are mixed up multiple times (we’ve finally been able to keep track of who’s got what case at which time, although it’s pretty tricky) and hilarity ensues.

I can’t decide if my favorite scene in the movie is the one I screencapped above (“Oh, we’re just testing a theory Howard has about Vocal Reverberation Under Spinal Pressure.” “What? Vocal Reverberation Under Spinal Pressure?” “You know, VRUSP?” “Oh, yes, I think I read a monograph on that. . .”) or the one where Judy and Howard manage to set his hotel room on fire (“I am not joking now. I do not like to act rashly, but you are the last straw that breaks my camel’s back, you are the plague, you bring havoc and chaos to everyone, but why to me? Why? Why?” “Because you look cute in your pyjamas, Steve.”) or the courtroom scene (“Don’t touch me, I’m a doctor.” “Of what?” “Music.” “Can you fix a hi-fi?” “No, sir.” “Then SHUT UP.”) or the absolutely FABULOUS chase scene through the streets of San Fransisco:

If you’ve never seen this movie, go rent it, or add it to your Netflix queue, or whatever. Sometimes it even shows up on TV. We once gave a fairly recent family friend the assignment to watch this movie. Once he had, he told us “I understand your family so much better now.” (This guy’s an insightful man. He once said that living in our house must be like a cross between Red Dwarf and The Sound of Music. That’s a fairly accurate description, actually.)

Anyway. I long ago decided that my future husband will have to enjoy this movie. It’s a fundamental requirement. Anyone who doesn’t like this movie just would not get along in my family. Or with me.

So how many of you love this movie as much as I do?

GO. SEE. THIS. MOVIE.

Adorable and touching and hilarious and– there was spontaneous clapping at several points. Seriously.

Gotta see it again.

The short beforehand was hilarious, too.

It’s okay, though, ’cause Lizzy is coming home tomorrow! They painted her yesterday, and were re-assembling her today. Apparently her new trunk lid was originally champagne-colored, and her new bumper was dark blue. And they couldn’t find a DX model trunk for her, so the back insert was going to be the standard gray kind instead of the spiffy-used-for-that-model-year-only red one. Buying a brand-new one was going to cost $400. But then dad talked to the body shop guy today, and he said that the original one wasn’t really that damaged. So he’s putting Lizzy’s back on, until we can find a completely undamaged one. It also means that Lizzy will be missing the “DX” sticker-thingy on the trunk, but dad found one on eBay for $6.

Can you tell I’m excited about getting my car back?

I’m going to Disneyland in April! Whoot! With my sister Lisa and her BFF Sarah, right after Lisa’s finals end. And I mean RIGHT after. ‘Cause Disneyland is doing a deal where, if you go to the park on April 24 or before, you can get a 5-day Park Hopper pass for the price of a 3-day. And Lisa’s last final is April 23rd, at 1:00 pm. So, we’re flying out that night at about 8, and going to Disney the next day. Staying until Monday, and flying home again at 8:00 that night. I’ve never been to Disneyland over multiple days before. I wonder how many times I’ll manage to squeeze in Pirates? *ponders*

Watched Northanger Abbey last night. Really enjoyed it, although, of course, there were a few things that bugged. I was prepared to hate it, because Mags of Austenblog hated it, and my taste tends to be similar to hers. But I liked it. Quite a lot. It was better than Persuasion, anyway. I’m looking forward to Mansfield Park in a this-is-going-to-be-a-trainwreck kind of way. I have no particular attachment to the novel, you see, so I think I’ll be able to enjoy it as Le Bad Cinema (as our local movie guy dubs really really bad flicks), since it’s rather obvious I won’t be able to enjoy it as Good Cinema. Since they cast Billie Piper as Fanny Price and all. I love Billie Piper, but she simply isn’t Fanny Price.

Of course, the small things that they didn’t get right in Northanger Abbey have me reading the novel again, even though I reread it only a month or so ago. Not that there’s anything wrong with rereading Austen, ever. But I just can’t let all of Henry’s snarky lines go unappreciated. I lent one of my copies (yes, I have several) to Lisa, too, so soon she too will be reveling in the sexiness that is Henry Tilney.

I really need my boss to come in so she can switch it to the oldies station.

I dressed up for Halloween this year. I was too tired to upload any pics last night, but when I get home, I’ll do so. ‘Cause I really want ya’ll to see my awesome costume.

Going to the eye doctor this afternoon. Maybe he can actually find a solution to my dry, red, itchy eye problem (now with icky film that sticks to my contacts and makes it impossible to see!). I really hope, though, that the solution isn’t going back to glasses full time. I haven’t worn glasses since I was twelve.

Have I mentioned that I’m going to be an aunt again? My SiL is expecting in March. And. . . it’s another girl! Right now the frontrunner for the name is Katherine, to be called Kate. I think Anna and Kate are adorable together.

In the meantime, Thomas turns one next week. Where has the time gone? He was Peter Pan for Halloween. So cute! Anna was a BYU cheerleader. Also cute! I can’t stand how adorable my niece and nephew are, really. Especially now that Anna has started saying my name– I’m “Emmy.” Makes me melt every time.

Dude, this music is just reminding me how behind I am on my Christmas knitting. Eek! I’d better stop typing and start knitting. Now if only I could figure out where the extra stitch is coming from on the border for the silk scarf I’m knitting for my aunt. . .

My title also feels like a good metaphor for how I feel about my life at the moment, but I don’t want to go into that.

I’ve been spending a lot of online time at Ravelry, which is still in beta mode but which is absolute crack for knitters and crocheters. I know is on there, but other than her, I have no friends (which kinda defeats the social-networking side of the whole site). Is anyone else in yet? Or are you still waiting for your invite (they’re getting closer to going public)? Or have you never even heard of it until now?

I threw my back out last Saturday. It was almost better on Monday. Tuesday it was as bad as it’s ever been. Massive amounts of ibuprofen and Thermacare wraps make getting through the day bearable, but if it doesn’t get better soon, I guess I’ll need to call the chiropractor. Grr. But– my insurance now covers chiropractic visits! Hurrah!

Speaking of insurance, I went to the doctor for the first time in a year on Friday. Got my thyroid levels checked (normal). Got a referral to radiology to get an ultrasound, to check for Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. If I have it, then the treatment is birth control pills (which I’m already on, and have been for years) and controlling weight (which I’m already trying to do). So even if I have it, nothing will change, except knowing that I have it. Joy.

Having insurance again is nice.

Overall, I like my job, but there are two definite drawbacks. One is that I have to listen to KOSY (click on the link to see what music I am subjected to, and feel my pain!) for 40 hours a week. Not only do they play the same songs every day, sometimes they play the same songs more than once in the SAME day! I swear, I’m going to go insane. And I just can’t WAIT until they switch over to all Christmas music, all the time in OCTOBER. *screams* Ahem. Anyway, the other drawback is that, unlike most office jobs, I can’t wake up in the morning and say “I can use another half-hour of sleep. I’ll go in at 8:30 and only take a half hour lunch.” I can’t just take off early to go to a doctor’s appointment. I can’t suddenly decide to take a weekend trip. And I feel like I can’t call in sick unless I truly can’t sit up. Because any time I’m not there, someone else has to cover for me. Which is a huge inconvenience to everyone else. I don’t like feeling guilty because I have a doctor’s appointment.

Of course, if I weren’t such a responsible person, I wouldn’t feel guilty. Being good is such a drag sometimes.

I’ve got two HP plot bunnies that I want to write– one a genficlet about Kingsley visiting the Muggle PM, and one a romantic H/G piece set a few weeks after the end of the battle– and I just. can’t. write. them. The H/G fic was progressing at the rate of 1 paragraph per day when my creativity completely died. It seems, then, that my writer’s block has progressed past essays and into fic, which is very bad news for my thesis. If I can’t even write H/G fluff, how can I write criticism? *sigh*

Speaking of my thesis, I need help from some of you. But that can wait for another post.

I saw Hairspray the other day, and Stardust on Monday night. Both excellent movies. Except I didn’t like John Travolta in drag in Hairspray. Totally ruined my suspension of disbelief. Robert de Niro in Stardust, on the other hand, was hilarious. And speaking of Stardust– where has Charlie Cox been all my life? And do you think he’d object to a slightly older woman?

My recreational reading has taken an Austenish turn lately. I’ve started reading the Jane Austen Mystery series by Stephanie Barron, and actually find the books amusing. She does a pretty good job of capturing Austen’s voice, IMO. Then yesterday I read Austenland by Shannon Hale, which, despite its not-so-subtle insults of Northanger Abbey, I found thoroughly delightful. I was quite giddy at the romance, even. Almost giddy enough to forgive the Northanger Abbey digs. Hale really gets the Austen fangirl, though. Really.

I also started another reread of Pride and Prejudice. I swear I started before I read Austenland, though.

I don’t plan on seeing Becoming Jane until my sister can get me in for free. I hope I can set aside my prejudice and enjoy it, but I don’t hold much hope. I’m just so annoyed at the message it’s sending– that Jane couldn’t have written those books unless she’d actually experienced a tragic love story, and that apparently she has next to no imagination at all, anyway, since most of her best scenes, lines, and characters are copied from her life. That really, really bugs me. But that wouldn’t be so bad if Hollywood hadn’t also marketed it as 100% TRUFAX, when actually it’s (as Mags of Austenblog likes to say) an almost totally Made Up Story. Grr.

In much, much happier news– BYU Football officially begins a week from Saturday. I’ve been haunting fanboards. I’ve been eagerly gobbling up practice reports. I attended the Women’s Football Clinic and the Big Blue Bash. I nearly kissed our season tickets. I’ve changed my cell ringtone to “Rise and Shout,” and I get giddy every time I hear it. I ADORE football.