Upset of the Century

In a very stunning upset, Sophie Marceau in "Braveheart" has been crowned as most beautiful female movie character, according to me. This was highly unexpected, as Kate Beckinsale in "Click" has been leading the category since its inception. However, upon further review, the judges have ruled that Sophie is indeed the winner. Congratulations to both, as it is an honor just to be nominated.


The beautiful Kate


Sophie in Braveheart. Wonderful movie. Better female lead.

I will soon be unveiling the top ten beautiful women in movies of all time. Stay tuned. I'm sure all my female readers are riveted.

You Snooze, You Lose

Oh, sleep. Why are you so enticing?

I feel like there are very few things I wouldn’t give up for sleep. I once almost talked myself into sleeping through a final. I have absolutely slept through more classes than I can count, and while in Paris two summers ago, I slept 14 straight hours at one point after an all-nighter.

I know people loosely throw around the phrase, “my biggest weakness,” or my “Achilles heal,” so I will not do that here. My top ten is pretty competitive, and I don’t want to slight any of the other things that I am lousy at. Suffice it to say that the desire to sleep in is a very real personal struggle.

Sadly for me, it seems that learning to master the body’s desire to sleep is a common trait of most successful people. This does not bode well for me. The problem is that all rationale goes out the window when I am trying to wake up and my body is telling me that nothing in the world matters more than getting a few more minutes of sleep. Once I am up, it isn’t really an issue, and I can generally run somewhat effectively on small amounts of sleep, but getting up has always been, and will continue to be a struggle.

I am currently testing out a revolutionary strategy of going to bed early so that I am not quite as tired in the morning. Crazy, I know. The results have not been encouraging thus far. My body seems to intuitively know that I have more time to sleep, so it demands more sleep. I have felt just as tired getting 7-8 hours of sleep over the past 3 nights as I do when I get my typical 5-6 hours of sleep. That really doesn’t seem fair, and if it continues I will revert back to my old ways and just enjoy the extra hours in the day. Groggily.

Currently, I am reading a fascinating biography about Charles Lindbergh, the first man to make a continuous flight across the Atlantic, accomplishing the feat solo from New York to Paris. The flight itself took 33 and ½ hours during which he was forced at times to fly so close to the water that the whitecaps sprayed him with freezing water so that he could stay awake. (He asked that several panels to his cockpit stay removed during takeoff for this very purpose.) Keep in mind with all the chaos and publicity surrounding his departure, he had essentially pulled an all-nighter before he embarked on his flight.

By the time he was finally able to sleep after his heroic landing in Paris, it had been more than 63 hours since he had slept, most of those hours with the enormous pressure of knowing that the slightest mistake would kill him. He wrote the following in his journal during the flight: “My back is stiff; my shoulders ache; my face burns; my eyes smart. It seems impossible to go on longer. All I want in life is to throw myself down flat, stretch out — and sleep.”

It is amazing to me that he was able to remain awake and alert in order to accomplish that Herculean feat. I can’t even comprehend that level of discipline and focus. Great men seem to have that extra gear they can turn to when an ordinary effort would fall short. It is incredibly inspiring. Maybe the most impressive fact is that after sleeping for 4 hours and 45 minutes, he awoke at 9am to begin his day the next morning. I’m going to try and remember this the next time my body is begging for more sleep and tempting me to discard whatever important thing it is that I need to be waking up for.

I can only pray that my body and subconscious don’t adapt and begin to conjure even more enticing lies to keep me sleeping. That would really suck.

Isn't it about Time?

What do Charles Lindbergh, William Wallace and pre-Victorian aristocratic women have in common? Absolutely nothing, apart from the fact that they have dominated my life over the past few days. Let me explain.

I took an incomplete in my History on Film class, which I took my last semester of BYU. I more or less forgot about this class and only recently did I realize that I need to get it taken care of so that I don’t have to explain to law schools why I have an uncompleted class on my transcript. So this week I emailed my professor to see if it was still possible to finish the class, fully expecting him to say no, which I deserved for blowing the class off in the first place. Much to my delight, he said he would be more than willing to let me complete the class, but I would need to take care of the paperwork to get an extension on the previously agreed upon completion date. Well, friends, turns out there is a maximum time period of a year and a half from the time the incomplete is started to when it must be finished, including the extension. Yikes. This meant that I would need everything turned into the records office by 5pm next Friday.

The tricky part about all of this is that in addition to working full time, I have been taking an LSAT prep class 3 days a week, and trying to also put in 2-3 hours on the days I don’t have class. Now I would need to find time for 12 hours of films I needed to watch, about 20 hours of reading, and 30 pages of papers that would need to be turned in. This doesn’t even include the fact that locating a required BBC miniseries from 1999 and the corresponding book that were nearly impossible to find took almost a day by themselves. Still, despite this being a lot of work it seemed very doable. It was at about this time that my professor informed me that in addition to needing all of the assignments a day early to grade them, he was going out of town so I would need to submit everything to him no later than Wednesday afternoon. Son of a B.

Needless to say, I’ve been very busy since I learned of these developments on Wednesday. Pretty much every waking hour that hasn’t been devoted to work and eating has been spent trying to finish up this class by the deadline. I think I’m going to make it, but in reality it’s too soon to tell. I’ll know by Wednesday. I have, however, relearned a very important fact about myself: I hate being super busy.

I will never understand people who always need to keep themselves busy with work, projects, appointments and other such things because they would otherwise get “restless,” or “bored.” Give me an open schedule and the freedom to relax, watch TV and eat junk and I am a happy man. Maybe this is true about everyone, and I’m sure on some level it is. However, it seems taboo to openly express how lazy my inner self is. Whatever. It’s the truth.

The funny thing is on some level I think this inherent laziness makes me work harder when I actually have to work. There is no sense dragging out an assignment by halfheartedly working on it when you could just sink your teeth fully into the job at hand and give yourself more time to loaf. My friend Deanna and I used to talk about this a lot when we were studying at Cambridge a few years back. We discovered that if our classmates devoted half as much time to doing their homework as they did whining about how much they had to do, they wouldn’t even be that busy. Either do the work or don’t. Quit wasting time telling everyone how much you have to do when you could be using that time to get it done. Sadly I think I took this to the extreme while we were there and neither whined about my workload or completed it. Whoops.

It will be interesting to see if I get it all done. I hope so. In addition to wanting the incomplete off my transcript, I’ve had to turn down watching the baseball playoffs, college football, and even playing a round of golf because the time could not be spared. Let’s hope the sacrifice pays off. It would be particularly ironic if the final twenty minutes I would have needed to finish everything eluded me because I spent that time blogging about time management.

Actually, I can easily see that happening. FML.

Octoberfest

Judging by the disconcertingly small number of readers Google analytics and my comments section tells me I have, I have realized I am more or less talking to myself. While this does leave me with an intelligent and highly thoughtful audience, I realized that it doesn’t really matter what I write about so long as it is interesting to yours truly. So at the risk of alienating both of my other readers, its time to talk some baseball.

As I previously stated, my Braves did not make it into the postseason. That final NL playoff spot went to the baseball equivalent of counting sheep, your 2009 Colorado Rockies. As I type this they are trying to take a 2-1 series lead on the Phillies, which would of course make the dozens of Rockies fans in America thrilled. The Dodgers have already moved on to the National League Championship Series and await the winner of the aforementioned division series. In the interest of full disclosure, I predicted the already defeated Cardinals would represent the National League in the World Series, so my fortune telling skills leave something to be desired. Nevertheless, I think the Dodgers will have their work cut out for them no matter who emerges from the the Phills-Rocks series. I do see the Dodgers emerging victorious, mainly because their pitching staff seams to have finally hit its stride. Furthermore, once Manny Ramirez receives his next HGH shipment, he will be primed and ready to tear up the left handed rotation of the Phillies, or the just plain crappy rotation of the Rockies.

I was very happy to see the Yankees back in the postseason in the American League. Even Yankee haters have to admit, baseball is better and more interesting when they are relevant. Fans need an enemy. I’ve actually come to appreciate the Yankees and I am rooting for them to win it all this year. A large part of this is due to the treatment of Alex Rodriquez, who despite being a social misfit is one of the most talented players of our or any other lifetime. Give the steroids talk a rest. He did them like everyone else did, and still may be for all we know. We can only judge players by how they perform against their peeI’m glad to see he is performing up to his potential so far this postseason, with two bombs and six runs driven in so far in the first three games. If he continues this tear, the Yankees will not lose. He is that type of player. It is interesting how a few games can shape a players image, for better or worse, and it seems that A-Rod’s “failure to deliver in the clutch” tag is quickly disappearing.

The Angels-Yankees series should be a great one. Both teams have talented starters at the top of their rotations and solid bullpens. In the case of the Yankees, having the ability to go with Chamberlain, Hughes, and Rivera to close out games is borderline unfair. Add in the fact that they have the most loaded lineup in baseball and it is no wonder they are the prohibitive favorite to win the Series this year. I hope they do. It has been a while since they’ve stood on the top of that mountain and the baseball universe just doesn’t seem right if the Yankees have gone that long without asserting themselves as Kings of the Hill. Maybe if they win enough my mid to late 90’s hatred of them will return and I can once again proudly sport my Fenway Park souvenir “Yankees Suck” t-shirt.

I hope you all enjoy this amazing sports month. It has always been my favorite. The playoffs are in full swing, the NFL is starting to separate the contenders from pretenders, the NBA is getting ready to unfold a new season, college football is alive and well every Saturday, and college basketball is just around the corner. If I followed the NHL, I would be happy it is going on as well, but I don’t so I couldn’t care less. Add to that the fact that my fantasy football team just won for the third week in a row, the Mark it Zero bowling team is in contention for the Wednesday night league crown and I’ve been breaking 40 left and right on the golf course, all seems right in the universe.

Now I just need Megan Fox to start returning my calls.

Sharing Isn't Always a Good Thing

They gave it a good run. Despite seemingly being out of contention a month ago, my Braves made a valiant end of the season run at the wild card, sadly coming up short despite winning 16 of 19 at one point. I have to tip my cap to Cindy’s Rockies, who became the most boring team to make a run into October since Al Gore and Joseph Lieberman. I’d give her even more credit if she could name half of their starting lineup, but I’m proud of her for even caring enough to rub it in my face. I’m also proud of Los Bravos, because even though they ran out of gas in the final week, they gave fans something to hope for going into the 2010 season. Wait till next year!

With my favorite team out of contention going into this weekend, I turned my attention to my Alma Matter and their battle with Utah State. I know what you’re thinking. Utah State isn’t even an accredited university. I’m well aware of that. I’m pretty sure their football team is comprised of the first 55 people to show up to the stadium not riding a farm animal. But they are a part of BYU’s “Help a Struggling Friend Outreach Program,” so the game did indeed take place. Being the generous and Christlike individual he is, Max Hall continued his effort to distribute footballs to the opposing team, gift wrapping two passes to confused Utah State defenders who must have been shocked that Hall would so blatantly stare down the receiver he was looking to throw to. An irate, drunken man with Turrets would have been more subtle. Maybe try looking off the defender for once, Max. Give it a try for me, that’s all I’m asking.

The best news for Cougar fans was seeing #7 Brian Logan on the sidelines until late in the game when it was already decided. You might remember Logan from such performances as last weeks three pass interference penalties, two touchdowns, and probably five other big plays given up. Not sure if he was hurt this week or if the coaches finally decided it wasn’t a good idea to keep throwing out a five foot six defensive back who never feels compelled to turn around and look at the football as its coming in his direction. Either way, by keeping Logan on the sidelines, we improved our pass defense immensely. Good call, Bronco.

All in all it was a fairly mediocre performance for BYU. I think our season is going to come down to Max Hall and whether or not he decides to only throw the ball to the players wearing the same jersey he is sporting, or if he plans on continuing to share the wealth. Maybe if he finds more ways to be kind and giving off of the football field, he won’t feel so compelled to continue his Santa Clausesque generosity on the gridiron. Here’s to hoping he didn’t watch any General Conference this weekend so that he won’t feel the need to be quite as helpful to others as he has been lately.

A War of Semantics

There is a serious problem in our society and I readily admit that I am accomplice to the same crime as those around me. It’s something that has gone on long enough and it has to stop. While in a way I feel that our hand has been forced to take the road we all seem to have collectively chosen, it doesn’t justify the disservice we have done. Friends, lets pledge here and now to put an end to the madness.

We have completely and absolutely destroyed the meaning behind calling someone a douchebag.

Not too long ago in the name calling world, dropping the DB on someone deserving was like the Enola Gay unloading Little Boy on Hiroshima. It was powerful, destructive, and got results. Now I hear the term for any little offense, and it has lost all meaning. In short, we overused one of our most powerful weapons.

I think I know how we got to this point. As I previously stated, there is blame to share. How can a word not get overused when we have an influx of collar popping, skinny jeans wearing, chest shaving, flatbilled-hat sporting toolsheds walking around us constantly? I mean, have you been to the Belmont lately? Quite simply, its entrapment. Still, someone asking for it is not a good enough excuse. I’d be willing to bet most criminals guilty of violent crime thought the other person was asking for it. That doesn’t make our abuse of the term any more justified.

Despite the tremendous opportunity presented to us daily to pepper others with the douchebag tag, we need to be stronger. By playing it so free and loose with the term, we have essentially killed it as an effective way to cut someone down who is truly deserving of the label. Remember the Rumble in the Jungle? It was in this famous title fight that Muhammad Ali forced George Foreman to expend all of his energy too early in the fight by employing the “Rope a dope” strategy. He stayed back and let Foreman throw punch after punch until he had nothing left and couldn’t successfully fight in the later rounds. You might also remember this strategy from every Rocky movie ever made.

The lesson here? Save something for the later rounds. Don’t unload the big guns right out of the gate. If someone acts in a way that over the previous years would have been described as douchey, call them a tool, punk, loser, or prick. You can even invent new words. Be creative. But let’s save the big guns for those special cases that actually deserve it. The K-Feds of the world, if you will.

This is a fight that needs fighting. We are the soldiers in this war, and it must be a team effort. Together we can restore meaning to a term that if used correctly can bring down the biggest of men. Let us all vow to engage in this war of semantics effectively and without mercy. Future generations are counting on us.

Please. Don’t let them down.

Get out of the Way!!

I don’t think I’m alone in wanting to be rich. There are a myriad of reasons for wanting money, and I’m sure that most reasons are unique to each individual. Some people want to be able to travel all over the world. Others want to be able to buy nice houses and beautiful cars, not to mention electronic luxuries, while others still seek to add to their never ending wardrobes. There is absolutely nothing wrong with any of these reasons, and I admit they all sound great. But I’ve got a new one. I want to teach the citizens of Provo how to be pedestrians.

What does that mean, you say? I’ll tell you what it means. I am so sick of pedestrians in Provo. It seems like all creatures on earth have a survival instinct, with the exception of those dim-witted morons crossing our fair streets everyday. To me, walking in front of oncoming traffic seems like a poor decision. Apparently I am in the minority. Every morning I drive to work, half asleep mind you, and end up having to slam on my breaks to avoid hitting some jackass that thinks a crosswalk means you don’t have to look to see if cars are coming.

Martin Luther King Jr. had a dream, and so do I. While not as high minded, I desire to see my dream fulfilled just as passionately as Dr. King. My dream is this: to have enough money that I can hit pedestrians when then dart out in front of my car. Sadistic? Yes. Necessary? I believe so.

It is my belief that the idiotic pedestrians of Provo need to be hit by oncoming automobiles. It is the only way they will learn. If you get hit by a car, how willing will you be to march on into the road without making sure the coast is clear? Not very, I presume. I’ve heard the excuse from some of these half-wits that the driver of the car would be at fault, and therefore would have to pay for their doctor bills and maybe even a settlement. This is true. But how much money do you get if you are dead? How much money would you gladly sacrifice in order to have the ability to walk?

It doesn’t really matter if the cars are supposed to stop. That is the message I want to drive home, literally and figuratively. Someday I hope to have the means to make this dream come true. Until then I will continue to silently fume as I try my best not to comply with the death wish of the soon to be brain dead pedestrians of Provo.