Tag Archive | fun

Paris

May 24th – 28th, 2017

We arrived in Paris at at sometime around seven or eight in the morning. They told us to sleep on the plane, but even after the windows were shut tight and the cabin darkened, that didn’t exactly happen. I wasn’t yet used to sleeping upright, and I’m pretty sure there was a crying kid somewhere. Unless I was dillusional after being awake for only twenty hours at that point.

If I was dillusional then, by the end of this, the longest day ever, I would be totally buggin.

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We went through security and loaded onto a giant cross-country tour bus that would become extremely familiar to us over the next month and a half. We met up with our tour leader, group leader, and adorable bus driver named Ricardo. And then, finally, we entered our first city.

Paris, around the edges, isn’t much to look at. It’s actually, we quickly realized, pretty gross. The buildings are its saving grace. Everything even in the beginning was “so French.” The old woman with glasses watering her flower boxes and smoking a cigarette. The old bald man shouting down from his balcony at some skinny teenager down below. The cat on the railing stretching itself out in the sun. It was easy to ignore the filth for a while.

What was less easy to ignore was the fact that the roads were extremely narrow and that our bus was extremely large. I’m still not sure how Ricardo managed to maneuver amongst those endless twisting alleyways—for that’s essentially what they were. We thought we were going to scrape the light posts, the sides of buildings, other cars. Somehow, though, we never did.

It took over an hour of this strenuous navigation to finally reach our hotel. We realized several things very quickly. One, that our bus driver was amazing, obviously. Two, that Paris was pretty darn big. Three, that the metro would become our best friend. And four, that our hotel was in a really sketchy far-away-from-the-city-center area of town. Number four was the kicker.

Still, we were within walking distance from some pretty cool things during day-light hours. We were in the 17th arrondissement, which I proudly knew was a district on the snail shell of Paris thanks to a fashion book I had read before departing. Every block here had the Cutest Cafe Ever situated conveniently on its corner. Moulin Rouge was less than two metro stops away. Montmartre and Sacré-Cœur weren’t far away either. And it was the latter place that, after checking into our hotel at one, we began to excitedly walk towards.

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We wandered aimlessly around Montmartre for a bit,  our destination in mind, but maps and landmarks still an abstract concept. First and foremost, I think, we were in awe of everything, everything was shiny and we were crows, pulled to and fro without a single thought.

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We saw this Love Wall mural, which I had seen online before and briefly fangirled over before we were dragged on by something else, something lovely and dazzling and new. There were art fairs, fruit stands, so many flowers. There were people everywhere, people and bread and tourists and birds alike. Even here, where there were fewer iconic landmarks to draw the masses, here where there were more native French-speakers than anyone else.

Soon, we couldn’t resist another thing we all idealized: crepes and french fries. Our stomachs, by this point, were empty. We were running on E. So we stopped, finally, and had our first meal of the Very Long Day. By then, I had been awake for about thirty hours. IMG_9205

This was our first restaurant visit of the trip. We ate outside of one of the aforementioned Adorable cafes. The waitress was kind, amused at our accents. Our view was perfect: we had found some side street deep in the heart of Montmartre that, if I were to go back, I could probably never find again. The food was reasonable and exactly what we needed.

We learned that meals in Europe are slow, and that you have to ask for the check. We also learned that they do not split checks, and that it is rude to even ask. Venmo became another best friend.

And so did we. For each meal was like a bonding experience. We talked freely, happily, endlessly. When neither waiter or waitee is in a hurry, when there are people to watch and things to discuss and learn…it’s all quite lovely. And, apparently, very European.

After our first lunch of the trip, we explored some more, all the way until dinner several hours later. First, we went to this really strange shop that I can only describe as specializing in knick-knacks. Floor to ceiling: knick-knacks. It was another thing I had found in that book of mine, and I was surprised and excited to see that we were actually right next to it on my map app. When we did go inside, I kept thinking, over and over, that the Little Mermaid would have loved it. It was weird, but great.

And again, somehow, very “French.”

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Afterwards, we just kept wandering around Montmartre. And tried and failed to both spell and say “Montmartre.” Repeatedly.IMG_9226img_9293-1IMG_9248img_9288IMG_9249

We walked on and on until finally we figured that we could reasonably read our maps and figure out where we were in relation to other things. So now, after our day of meandering with the Monte Carlo and Amelie movie dreams somewhere in front of us but always beyond grasp, we finally went for it. We found Sacré-Cœur. And up we climbed.

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It’s a hill, you see. At the bottom, we turned the corner and saw the tell-tale carousel. Then, you look up. And there’s the basilica, cathedral, site of something worth pilgrimages—maybe a piece of Mary’s cloak? Whatever it is, there were tons of tourists there for it.

Or perhaps they were actually there for the same reason we were. No, not the movies, though that was a huge pull. But because this is the only hill in the city of Paris. It’s true, everywhere else is flat. So you know if you’re going uphill, ever, you’re going North, towards Montmartre in the 18th.

So, being the only hill…it had one of the best views of the city.

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I imagined that Amelie’s blue chalk arrows were everywhere, leading me up, up, up. It made the admittedly arduous climb slightly easier.IMG_9292

We left for dinner, our first welcome meal of the trip. We were served from a set but delicious menu, some kind of pasta and chicken I think. There was panna cotta for dessert, that I remember.

And then we all went our separate ways. Groups had not really formed yet, so everyone stuck together, and in more varied pairings, than they otherwise would have or later did. People either continued to explore Paris, went back to the hotel to sleep, or began the collective hunt for the cheapest wine possible. Or, ya know, all of the above.IMG_9291

At the end of my thirty-six hour day, I went with a group of my new friends to the Eiffel Tower. We had only been strangers mere hours and days before, but already we could see how much a trip like this, how much navigating and wandering around a new and strange city, could bring people together. We didn’t want to walk around alone here so soon, and especially not at night. It took team work, in the beginning, to figure out the trains. And, of course, it was just fun.

We didn’t get to climb the tower that night, though others did. But we did get to walk around it in the dark, watch it sparkle on the hour and walk under it to gape at its misleading size.

At the end of the night, we all made it back to our new tiny and poorly wired hotel rooms with their clean sheets and odd showers. And then we knocked out. The Longest Day Ever was complete.img_9326

The next morning we had our first classes abroad. We had had a week of pre departure classes, so we were old pros now; we knew what to expect. Our art history professor Tracey went first, showing us slides and telling us stories about a certain period of art. I loved these hours and lectures. Tracey is and was amazing and I am so sad that I cannot take her class a hundred times over. I didn’t mind that this was how we were to spend every fifth morning at all.

Then, however, we had music class. And I’m not a music person. We learned anything from music theory to the history of composers to the physics of sound. I wasn’t a fan then and I’m still not a fan now. The first part of the morning, in other words, was highly preferable.

After our classes, though, we had free time for lunch and travel before we had to be at our Next Thing: a music museum.

We took the metro to the 19th, as it was where the museum was located. We figured we would eat nearby so as to not have to stress and worry about travel times and train delays. There are no train delays, which we learned soon. However, the train itself was a painful forty-five minute endeavor. The museum, our professor failed to mention, was all the way across the city.

Once we got to the 19th, after ages, in other words, we walked around in search of food. Instead, we found murals.

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This was the first time on the trip that I was really relied upon by strangers for navigation. I was one of the few with the downloaded maps, you see. I also, apparently, was one of the few that had their head screwed on right and didn’t blow a gasket when we took a wrong turn or two. I was on a mission, with a destination in mind, but I also wasn’t stressed. No one I was with could make a decision. They were all hangry and completely reliant on group think to make their decision on What to Do Next.

I don’t put up with that. And I also had the maps. So we were all stuck together, something about stress and unhappy families all being alike. By the time we all actually did find food stands and restaurants (really, why were there not more around the river and park up there?!) I was done with people. At least, done with being in charge.

The music museum had a lot of instruments in it. That’s all I really remember. Cases and cases of instruments. It’s kind of funny, actually. It was organized by type, then by era, so it traced through all of their development and what have you.

I’m more of an art girl.

As I had decided that I was #done with people, I was extremely happy about what I was headed off to do next.

I had messaged my friend Margaret from high school the day before. She took a gap year after graduation and before she goes to college to be an au pair, or a nanny, in Paris. So, during my remaining free afternoon, I went to find her.

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That’s why, on day two of being in a foreign European strange abroad unfamiliar city, I ended up on the metro by myself.

Ok, well, to be fair, the city wasn’t completely unfamiliar. I had been there in tenth grade, so I knew generally where the city center and a good number of landmarks were. I knew what was around the river and where the Louvre was, basically, and I still stand by the notion that to navigate there that’s all you really need.

To also be fair, I rode about halfway with a group of people from my group who also happened to leave the museum at the same time. But as far as navigating the downtown metro and sidewalks? All me baby.

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We met up at a place that, the first time I had visited, I had wanted so badly to visit but had never had a chance to: the Shakespeare and Company bookstore.IMG_9378

It’s tiny, cramped, full to bursting with books and people alike. There are corners full of books, stairs and walls displaying quotes, desks covered with typewriters and plants. I loved it.IMG_9399

It was so sweet to see Margaret, and we picked up right where we left off. We talked of Paris, traveling, classes, books, people, our lives. We had coffee and talked even faster.IMG_9392

She and her boyfriend showed me around the area by the river. I had been there before, but I was seeing it through new eyes. They knew how to do it right, they said, so Right we did.

That, I guess, was how we ended up cutting in a really long and winding line of tourists to see the inside of Notre Dame.IMG_9404IMG_9408

After seeing the cathedral that Tracey had told us about mere hours but what seemed like ages before, we went to do something else that was completely necessary for a Parisian tourist like myself to do: eat more crepes.

Margaret showed me where the absolute best crepes in that neighborhood were. I knew I met up with her for something.IMG_9413

All jokes aside, the Nutella and strawberry crepe that I had, standing on the bustling sidewalk the Latin Quarter laughing with my friend who now speaks fluent French, was life-changing. So life-changing, in fact, that when I dripped melted chocolate onto my yellow and white shoes, I didn’t even really care.

Crepe still in hand, and with only a little while before I had to go back to the hotel to change for our music class outing later that evening, we went to an open-air farmer’s market held nearby. Again, so “French.”IMG_9423

After saying goodbye to my wonderful happy lil Margaret and her boyfriend, I took the train to the hotel, changed into too fancy of a dress, lost an earring, ran down a hotel hallway, met up with another group of new friends, and hopped back on the train. That took about ten to fifteen minutes. I lost my sanity somewhere along with the earring, I think. But I had successfully survived my first solo city outing. And, after a while, I ignored the missing earring debacle and focused on that instead.

We raced (as much as you can race on a train) back to the 19th. Yep, the forty-five minute train ride we had had to take earlier. And then, we entered our first music event. Our first concert.

We all had high hopes, I think. It was Mozart, everyone knows Mozart, it’ll be great. But I think everyone fell asleep at some point.

It wasn’t bad, per se. Just not riveting. And definitely a snore to fifty something students who have each been running around a new and exciting city all day, likely on very little sleep. We were all exhausted, in other words.

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Going to this concert and those that followed was really cool though, because I know that it is something that I wouldn’t have gone and seen on my own. I never would have chosen to go to the symphony and see Mozart performed had it not been done for me, and for a grade. Because I love movies, plays, shows, and art museums. But a symphony? Yeah I had fallen asleep for a moment. But it was a good experience nonetheless.

After the show, we took pictures.IMG_9445

This was the most we dressed up for any of the concerts. We hadn’t had much precedence, ya know? Like, none. I wore heels, for crying out loud. But hey, now I can say that I walked two miles around the cobblestone streets of Paris at night wearing strappy heels. And I felt pretty dang fabulous doing it, so that’s all that really mattered.IMG_9801

None of us wanted to go back to the hotel, so after several failed plans and changes of plans and debates of plans, we somehow ended up near the river. We got to see everything lit up, wandered around the Louvre with its glowing silver pyramid, got to shout and sing and holler in the strangely quiet city streets. Damn tourists, amiright.

It was so lovely. We got pretty lost, but my map was still in use, so it was ok. And the river was right nearby, leading us wherever we needed to get, a solid backbone to a solid city.

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The next morning was very blue. We went to the Louvre around when it opened, and were ushered in. img_9458img_9467

The touristy photos were a must. I had to fight for that box too, man.

I had almost but not quite forgotten how wild it was, for I had visited there in tenth grade too. There were people everywhere, jostling one another, coming up out of the earthworks, probably from hell. Literal fire ants.

 

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I wanted to go back and see Napoleon’s Chambers, but they were, of course, closed for renovation. This is the most appropriate reason to say “c’est la vie” I have ever had.

Instead, we saw Nike. And she was glorious.

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Seeing the things that we learned about just days and weeks before in Art History class was incredible. It made the pieces so much more meaningful. We knew the stories and contexts behind the works, knew what was going on during those time periods. They gained a new importance, and we gained a much greater appreciation. It made fighting through those packed and endless hallways okay.

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After escaping the Louvre, we had two hours before our Next Thing. So, on the way to finding lunch, we wandered through the Tuileries Garden.

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It was really hot.img_9589

So the shade was an absolute blessing. And these trees looked like something straight out of an impressionist painting. img_9593

We kept walking towards food and the Paris opera building, our next destination. We found some cool street things along the way.img_9620img_9601

And then our Phantom of the Opera Afternoon began. We went on a tour of the Palais Garnier, and it was amazing, gorgeous. The ceilings, the walls, the chandeliers…so detailed and so, so beautiful. It was horrible that this was the first opera building that we toured, really. Our expectations were screwed.img_9632

I mean come on. The ceiling was a Chagall.img_9644

It was funny, though, because Parisians back in the day hated it because it was so modern and clashed with the rest of the decor. I love when art makes people mad.

There was also another pretty lil gem hidden here. The opera house had its own little spin off of Versailles, right down the road: it had its own mini Hall of Mirrors.img_9661

After the tour we were tired and still hot, so we went shopping for a bit, as this was apparently The district to do it in. But alas, the shopping was futile and like the stereotypes would have predicted, me and four other friends ended up in a nearby Starbucks.

This, however, was no ordinary Starbucks. This wasn’t the super hero of Starbucks’, either; no. If Blair Waldorf or Marie Antoinette was a Starbucks, this would have been her.

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They even had really good wifi. And the chocolate-filled muffin I had? AMazing.

Soon I wanted to explore some more. The friends I was with were tired, or wanted to go shopping, or simply do other things. But I was now fearless. I had conquered the metro by myself the previous day. I had won. I had proven that I was completely fine taking off on my own. So that’s what I did.

I went to this beautiful mall, mostly just to see how beautiful it was and to close my eyes to the beautiful designer stores taunting me from all sides on the way to its center.img_9709

Then, I hopped on the metro in search of antique and vintage clothing stores. I got gotten directions from my book, had places saved in my map. I went towards the Bastille near the 11th and farther up (or down?) the river, a place I had never been before but immediately loved. I found street art and, though the stores I had originally been looking for were all closed, I had a wonderful time getting lost and found and lost some more.img_9731

The streets here were cleaner than most. It was a nice neighborhood, somewhere in between the high end opera area and the Champs and the Latin Quarter. The place our hotel was doesn’t even fall on that scale. It falls off the bottom.

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When I got hungry for dinner, I had the most amazing falafel wrap from a street vendor. I walked around eating it, people watching and taking pictures.img_9763-1img_9741-1

After a while, I figured that I had seen that area through and through, so I went searching for people. Maybe the extravert in me was rearing its head, craving company; I headed back towards the metro and touristy areas for a while. I saw Notre Dame once more, then walked around the dozens of bridges that crisscrossed the river. I never did find the lock bridge again, though.img_9792

When it started to get dark again, I went back to the hotel. It had definitely been another full and crazy and busy and wonderful lovely day.

The next day, we went to Dorsay (which isn’t really spelled like that but that I choose to spell like that for the sake of my missing sanity) and Versailles. Both places were so special…and I took so many pictures there…that they both have their own posts coming up next. So like, Next Week on Youn—I mean, Lauren’s Blog or something. (If only this WERE an episode of Younger!)

The last night that we were in Paris, though, so after we got back from Versailles on Saturday night, was truly a dream. We all got cheap but good wine and prosecco, bread, cheese, and jam from a variety of mini markets and sidewalk stands. We picnicked underneath the Eiffel Tower. We met French people. We got to know one another. And we got to see the sparkling lights overhead once again.img_0614

Those were the yellow shoes that were tragically attacked by my amazing crepe.img_0611img_0612

A brilliant idea, one that was shared with us by former groups, shared by us to other current groups, and will be shared with future study abroad groups to come. Do you hear that? Go to the Eiffel Tower with your new travel family. It’s one of the best things you can do.

It’s certainly a SPARKLING memory from my wonderful but exhaustion-driven whirlwind of a time in such a large, dirty, lovely, gross, and crazy first city.img_0604

Summer Plans

FullSizeRender (1)This summer I am…drumroll please…STUDYING ABROAD! I’m taking part in Georgia Tech’s Summer Oxford Program. For the first six weeks, we will be traveling all around Europe studying Art History and European Composers. We’re going to visit Paris, Venice, Rome, Florence, Munich, Vienna, Prague, and Bruges, each for about three or four days. We’ll be traveling by plane, train, and…yeah, automobile, I had to say it. There are fifty-five people in my travel group, and we’re all packing into a bus, so we’ll be great friends by the end of the thing. There are three travel groups, and we all travel to different countries for six weeks before meeting back up in Oxford for our second set of classes.

It will be fast, but we are going to be able to see all sorts of museums, culture, shops, foods, landscapes, art, architecture, concerts… It will be an exciting whirlwind of art and audreymusic and history, which I absolutely adore.

For the second six weeks of the twelve week program, we will be taking classes on Oxford University’s campus in Oxford, England. Oxford. (Repeating Oxford like a million times because I still can’t believe it.) We will have Georgia Tech professors teaching us in Westminster College (one of the dozens of colleges). I’m going to be taking Computational Media (CS 1315) and History of Medieval England. Every Georgia Tech student has to take some sort of Computer Science elective, so I get to learn how to code, which is kind of cool! It should be better than calculus, anyway. And I’m really looking forward to learning even more European history in the place that it, ya know, actually happened.

So far, we have had a week of sort-of preparatory classes for Art History and Music, complete with midterms and an impromptu jazz concert by music professors from across Atlanta. We’ve studied the Renaissance, learned about Michelangelo and FullSizeRenderBramante and how much they hated and loved the Pope. We’ve discussed the symbolism is Bosch’s crazy triptych and what exactly is so “off” about the Van Eyck altarpiece.

In Music, we’ve learned how symphonies are set up, how instruments interact to create both pleasant and unpleasant music. We have learned how to compare different compositions, how to identify genres, and how to hear and feel musical tension. I’m obviously way more into art, and am skeptical of Music classes due to years of forced elementary school classes. But as long as I don’t have to listen to the same classical piece seven times in a row, I’m learning to appreciate the technical and compositional aspects of music a little more too.

I’m leaving for Paris on Tuesday, and I can’t believe that either! People have asked repeatedly if I’m nervous, but I’m not. (Should I be? Yikes.) I’ve been to some of these cities before, and I’m excited about getting to know them better. Other places I will see for the first time, and I tumblr_olldx89SLW1uzjdm6o3_500can’t wait to get to know them, the people, the sights, and the food there better as well. I know it’s also a long trip, and I’m going to miss my family and friends so, so much. But I’m not going to be completely disconnected or anything! My goal is to blog every single day, and share the photos that I take in each place. I’ll have free texting even when I don’t have data, too. So, sketchy wifi aside, I’m leaving, but I’ll definitely still be around ~

Food, Friends, Art, and Coffee

Hello again! I thought that I’d end yet another infamous and periodic bit of radio silence with a post about an adventure I went on back in—what was it now, January? Man that was so long ago now.

Anyway, a while ago I went to Cabbagetown with the lovely ladies I am going to be sharing an apartment with next year! Three of us were already friends, and I was friends with the fourth. Before this, though, the two and the one actually had yet to meet each other, so an introductory excursion was definitely in order. And preferably one with breakfast food and cute photo ops.

So we had brunch at the Carroll Street Cafe, a cute little place with an abundance of both coffee and mimosas, depending on how old you are. The biscuits are the best too, highly recommend. Afterwards, we walked down the road and took a right to walk along the lengthy wall full of murals. We wandered all the way down to the Krog Street Tunnel, taking pictures and chatting and joking along the way.

After our adventure, we headed back to campus to do homework, as it was a Sunday and we are all typical Tech students. Not wanting the expedition to die completely, we went to Amelie’s for yet another change of scenery. And coffee.

All in all, it was a wonderful day, full of food and friends and art and coffee, which is basically all anyone could ever need. I am so looking forward to rooming with my friends in the fall. I can’t wait to decorate our apartment, to have movie nights, to have four walls to myself, to joke and tell stories in the evenings, to cook in a real life kitchen, to have a dishwasher… And, of course, I can’t wait to go on more adventures like this one too.

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The Adventures of Lauren & Stank

On Saturday, January 28th, I met Christine (affectionately called “Stank” since some time around tenth grade) in West Midtown for our very favorite meal of the day. Our favorite because it’s Leslie Knope’s favorite, mostly, but also because it’s dang delicious.

We ate brunch at West Egg, which I had never been to before. We waited outside in the sunshine for a good thirty minutes, but it was extremely worth it. It also gave us a chance to catch up, and I got to know her friend who was visiting too. We were all rewarded for our patience, not just with each others’ company, but with delicious food and wonderful weather. And coffee.

After breakfast, we wandered around the area for a bit. We saw a tiny coffee shop made out of a shipping container, saw shops and cool urban-looking renovations. We then found the murals. The blue one is outside of Bartaco off of Howell Mill, and it was right beside the Merchant, a cute stationery shop that we promptly visited next. After saying goodbye to the new friend, I took the old to the West Side Cultural Arts Center right down the street. I had been there once before, but was pleasantly surprised by how close it was.

It was a lovely morning (or early afternoon?) full of lovely weather, great friends, awesome street art, and amazing food. It was such a treat to be able to explore new places and get to see one of my oldest and best friends, and I can’t wait to do it again soon.

Before I Fall Movie Review

“Maybe you can afford to wait. Maybe for you there’s a tomorrow. Maybe for you there’s one thousand tomorrows, or three thousand, or ten, so much time you can bathe in it, roll around it, let it slide like coins through you fingers. So much time you can waste it. But for some of us there’s only today. And the truth is, you never really know.”

Before I Fall, which comes out in theaters in a couple of weeks, has been one of my favorite books since I read it in ninth grade. It tells the story of a girl named Sam, who is a member of the most popular clique in her high school. She’s sweeter than her three best friends, though; she’s different. (Yeah, yeah, joke about YA I dare you.) It’s set over the course of one day. This happens to be Valentine’s day, but it is also the day that Sam dies, and the day that she relives, seven times, until she can fix what went wrong. Throughout the story, there are mean girls, bullied girls, snubbed boys, popularity contests, and high school parties. It has all the makings of a cheesy YA book to movie adaptation. But it wasn’t one. Aside from some questionable music choices, it was absolutely perfect.

before-i-fall-movie-images-zoey-deutch-halston-sage-21The whole premise of Before I Fall is that you never really know how long you have to live. You don’t know how your actions and choices will impact either your own life or, and sometimes especially, those of the people around you. Sam and her friends do not know how their words and actions impact their peers, until horrible things happen because of them. When Sam keeps waking up, she decides to change things; she is kind, embraces and appreciates what she has had but took advantage of. I love this concept, and when I read the book I thought, holy shit, this is serious, this is real. The movie did the same thing, and in a no less impactful way. Whenever Sam narrates, she is reflecting too, working through all of her thoughts and actions and what they mean. Through her life, we are called to think of our own too, whether they are as glamorous and dramatic as hers or not.

“It amazes me how easy it is for things to change, how easy it is to start off down the same road you always take and wind up somewhere new. Just one false step, one pause, one detour, and you end up with new friends or a bad reputation or a boyfriend or a breakup. It’s never occurred to me before; I’ve never been able to see it. And it makes me feel, weirdly, like maybe all of these different possibilities exist at the same time, like each moment we live has a thousand other moments layered underneath it that look different.”

For that was definitely one thing that was interesting to see: how exactly Sam’s life was transformed onto a screen. We lost a lot of details, obviously: we never learned what kind of falling out she had with her mother, nor how horribly her relationship her relationship really was. But we did get to see her friends. The dynamic between Lindsay and the others was extremely authentic. They listened to music, made fun of each other, gossiped and laughed. It was accurate, it was fun and funny to watch, and it reminded me of me. It only felt forced when they mentioned Snapchat or said “bae.” Even then, though, they went right back to being believable high schoolers. (I mean, as believable as the twenty-something year olds and their supposed “senior party” could be.) The movie, though, did this really well.

In fact, the acting in and of itself was really good. I was impressed and pleasantly surprised. Not only were the relationships believable, but the characters were too. Sam was just how I imagined her, as were Lindsay and even Skye. Kent was perfect too, though I don’t actually know if they ever said his name.

“I shiver, thinking how easy it is to be totally wrong about peopleto see one tiny part of them and confuse it for the whole, to see the cause and think it’s the effect or vice versa.”

Not to go all Read It and Weep here, but I also knew a Lindsay in high school. I was the Sam in a friend group, and could relate very strongly to everything that that happened on screen. This realization about some of my back-stabbing high school girlfriends probably made the movie even more meaningful and realistic to me, to be honest. Since reading the book, I have seen and experienced firsthand just how mean and two-faced girls who claim to be your friends can be. It’s horrible. I didn’t go all Kickass Black Eyeshadow Day Five or Six Sam, which would have been awesome, but I did get the hell out of there after being involved for far too long, like Sam did. I too learned from being around the wrong people, though fortunately no one suffered this much from anything that happened. (That I know of…) I should have thought about this book at the time, but I guess life is funny and unfortunate like that.

“So many things become beautiful when you really look.”

before-i-fall-hd-trailer-stillsAnother thing that I really liked about this movie though, dark serious life thoughts aside, actually has nothing to do with the characters or story per se. And yeah, this is huge media me nerding out. But I absolutely loved how the film’s shots were set up, how the lighting felt, and how time and days passed. The transitions were seamless. I was curious as to how they would repeat one day over and over, reuse the same scenes, and still keep it interesting and new. And they did it so, so well. They picked significant things to focus on, made it just tense and funny enough. Whenever they ran through the woods, I pointed out how hard the light must have been to get perfectly. And the scene where Sam repeatedly wakes up? SO GOOD.

Lauren Oliver and Before I Fall were and are perfect. I highly recommend both the book and movie to any and everyone who likes contemplative stories with surprising, occasionally funny or dark, and thought-provoking twists. Sure, they may seem and feel a little fluffy at times, but the messages certainly are not.

“I realized that time doesn’t matter. Certain moments go on forever. Even after they’re over they still go on, even after you’re dead and buried, those moments are lasting still, backward and forward, on into infinity. They are everything and everywhere all at once. They are the meaning.”

Book: 5/5 stars

Movie: 9/10 stars

Jackie Movie Review

Last Wednesday, I went to a screening of Jackie.

This was the third free screening that I had attended at various theaters around Atlanta in less than three weeks. I had also just finished my very last final of the semester at ten o’clock that morning. I was completely packed and ready to go home the next day. All in all, I was giddy from good luck, excitement, and relief. Going to see the movie was my only plan for the evening, and it was a good and welcome one.

I went with Sam, my friend and cohort in many an interesting Uber excursion. She too had survived the biology exam with me hours before, and I thought it would be a perfect thing to do together before the holiday.

img_2486It was. We were a bit rushed and had very little time to take in the surroundings of the Tara Cinemas, however. We arrived inside right at seven o’clock, the movie’s schedule start time, and were directed to the last remaining seats. And where were these seats, you ask?

Why do you ask. They were in the very front row.

Fortunately, there was a distance between the front row and the screen that is unique, I think, to smaller, less commercial movie theaters. Also fortunately, we at least got to sit in the very middle of the row, so it was more of an IMAX experience than a sideways, off-kilter one.

When the movie began, the magic happened, as they say. I was first struck by how well-framed everything was. Media studies nerd-alert, I know. But Natalie Portman is completely and perfectly positioned throughout the entire film. Her face is balanced in each shot, the cars are centered or not, the buildings, etcetera. The lighting, the eerie music, you name it. It felt appropriately complex and calculated. The cinematography felt as heavy but significant as the material it conveyed. It alone was exquisite.

Then, of course, there was the way that the story was told. I had no idea how they were going to approach it beforehand. Would it chronicle JFK’s assassination from the eyes of Jackie in order of the events as they occurred? Would the movie’s plot take place years later? Where would it begin? These questions are answered almost as quickly as they are asked; a reporter on screen immediately knocks on Jackie’s door. He is interviewing her after JFK’s funeral. Later, of course, time is further skewed by the presence of a priest, but for the most part the movie progresses through a series of flashbacks and storytelling through the eyes of Natalie Portman as Jackie herself. I thought that this was a very compelling way to tell the story, as it allowed viewers to go back and forth from the impact of the assassination on both the United States and mental state of Jackie O, as well as the time in the White House before, when everything was beautiful and lovely and there was no danger of losing everything. This contrast was clear, emphasized, and horribly sad.

t-natalie-portman-jackie-kennedy-first-lookApart from the manner in which the story was told, there was the actual acting, the talent, that brought everything lovely and terrible to life. Natalie Portman was perfect. Like, Oscar-worthy perfect. She perfectly embodied Jackie’s grace, elegance, strength. At times it was unclear if she knew what she wanted, or what her relationship with JFK was really like, but I will attribute this to my admittedly scant knowledge of the Kennedys. Portman, however, became Jackie, completely exposing the psychological impacts that such a trauma would have on one’s self, life, family, and desires. She was luminary.

By the end of the film, it was as though I had been punched in the gut, without actually knowing why. It was such a strong film, perhaps. Or maybe the performance and final messages were just dumbfounding. In any case, I wanted to sit in the dark and quiet theater for as long as possible, not ready for the experience to be over.

When Sam finally dragged me up, though, I looked around and realized, for the first time, that we were the youngest people in the theater. Everyone was in their late thirties at least, and most seemed even older. A lady with white hair who had been sitting beside me, I realized, had actually been sniffling and trying not to cry. As we walked up the aisle, I heard discussions about the film begin to pick up all around us. They were debating the portrayal of Jackie, admiring or disputing the choice in actors, questioning how they found such a spot-on JFK look-alike, pondering the merits of that manner of storytelling.

There was a line to the bathroom, which was small and cramped and almost welcomed not only jokes about how cramped it was, but discussions about the film we had all just seen as well. One woman asked us what we thought of the movie, and we talked for a bit before learning that she was six years old at the time of JFK’s funeral, and remembered watching every detail on TV. “It was really a spectacle,” she said. I couldn’t tell if she said this reverently or not before it was time to wash my hands.

img_2489After leaving the tiny space, we were left to a nearly empty lobby. Nearly empty, accepting the sitting area complete with armchairs and a coffee table with a chess set, where several individuals were continuing their film debates at greater length. Critics! I thought excitedly, even though I have no idea if they actually were.

All around was an air of creativity, a feeling of philosophy and thought, complex analysis of film and art. There were movie posters for upcoming indie movies that I have been longing to see for ages scattered about the walls, and as we waited for our Uber back to reality, I walked around slowly, breathing it all in. I loved it—Jackie, the experience, everything. I loved discussing the story with the stranger in the line to the bathroom; I gained a new perspective. I loved watching an amazing performance from what probably wasn’t even a flattering angle. And I loved going to a new place, full of exciting, artistic, forward and critical thinking. I was in my element. And I can’t wait to go back. Very, very soon.

Rating: 9/10

Curiouser and Curiouser!

tumblr_ognhlb5ync1rve49co1_250BEETLEJUICE, BEETLEJUICE, BEE-

Hey again!

So Halloweekend.

A weekend dedicated to candy and parties, events and costumes. I always enjoyed Halloween in high school because it corresponded with Red Ribbon Week, and we got to dress along with different themes every single day.

I love trying to come up with the coolest, most accurate, or punniest costumes possible. Sometimes I go the pop-culture route; other times I prefer plays on words. When you have several days and events to dress for, this is easy. You can be anything you want, you don’t have to pick.

The challenging part, though, is coming up with something this good from the limits of our college wardrobes. I didn’t want to spend any money, if possible, on new clothes or props that I would only use once. A LITTLE GASOLINE, BLOWTORCH, NO PROBLEM.

tumblr_ognhlb5ync1rve49co8_250So one night, I dressed in all black and, when people asked who I was, I asked them who they thought I was. This little social experiment was a total cop-out, but the “witch,” “Pretty Little Liars,” and “chick from Beetlejuice” responses were pretty entertaining.

Another night I dressed as Alex Russo from Wizards of Waverly Place. She was my childhood hero and one of my first style-icons. Her clothes are extremely cool and eclectic, so I threw some things in my closet together and topped it off with a crazy funky chunky hat.
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On Saturday night, I was a pun. I wrote the names of dozens of characters on to name tags and stuck them all over my black dress. Then I put on a black bandana. I was an identity thief.When these name tags started falling off, I claimed that I was having an identity crisis. I was amusing myself all night with that one.tumblr_ognhlb5ync1rve49co2_1280img_0684img_0642

ATTENTION K-MART SHOPPERS. Costumes aside, what did I do on all of these nights, exactly?

tumblr_ognhlb5ync1rve49co7_500I hung out with my friends, went to parties, attended events. One night I went to a haunted house. We had a party, where we all baked spooky treats, on my floor. I attended SCPC’s Alice in Horrorland event at the Student Center. I even went to a concert. There wasn’t a dull moment. Something was happening, somewhere, at all times. College is so cool.

Alice in Horrorland in particular was pretty neat. SCPC turned the third floor of the Student Center into a twisty weird Wonderland. Each room was a different theme, with games and treats and creepy cat videos. There were delicious cupcakes and glow sticks and just about anything else vaguely Halloween and/or Lewis Carroll-related. The main attraction, however, was a haunted maze inside the ballroom. There were people in costumes wandering about, jumping out at you as you searched for a way out of the dark curtained path. It was fun.
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That same night, Wreckless, another club on campus, hosted a concert on the IC Lawn. And who played, you may ask? Judah and the Lion! I had only heard of them from a Spotify commercial, but I had liked what I heard. So my friends and I went, listened, laughed, sang, and danced. I highly recommend going to concerts, even if you aren’t too familiar with the band. Especially when they come to your school, especially when they’re right in your backyard.img_0714

Sunday was the day of studying, as were the daylight hours. The weekend was long, full of fun. But the best part was doing so many different things, both on and off campus, with my friends. Halloweekend was an absolute blast.

DAYLIGHT COME AND ME DON’T WANT TO GO HOME.