But I thought it deserved some credit. {Credit goes to Gurmie.} We were in SLC in a store called cabin fever when we found this little book. We both found it humorous. And who knew that phone cameras took such good pictures? HA! It also goes well with my Senior portrait rant from a while ago.
Is making fun of yourself still considered Narcissism?
This pretty much describes how I feel lately. Tired. stressed, and my hair is not nearly mullet-y enough yet for my liking. But I do like my Quakie skirt which I actually really wish I owned.
This weekend I saw The Pianist edited on TV. I do not feel like a film has changed my life so completely since I saw Hotel Rwanda, which is kind of saying a lot. The music, the cinematography, the fact that Adrien Brody was in it, everything. I want to marry that film. Not even kidding. Hopefully I can find an edited copy on amazon or something so I can own it because honestly, I can't imagine the horrors that life will {would?} be if I don't have that movie in my personal collection. Every night I would go to my bookshelf where I keep my movies and I would stroke it and fall asleep with it in my arms.
When you take Adrien Brody and put him in a holocaust film, sweet, sweet miracles happen. I can't even describe it. The emotion that he protrays is so realistic and so raw you just want to immerse yourself in it. The funny thing with movies is even though you know it isn't real, they can take you and put you into the position where you are completely hypnotized by it, almost to the point where you feel you are living every triumph, every bit of anguish, yourself. Not many actors can make you literally believe their role and character is real. Adrien has that rare talent of realism, even in its hollow, agonizing form.
I am so in love with it. I'm really awful with words. I'm totally not doing it justice.
Also, don't mind this crappy youtube video. It also does not do the best scene in the movie justice. Look at him! As a jew!!! With a beard!!
with posts oriented around stupid things, which in all actuality whittles all of my actually good posts to under 10. Blogging has become sort of a chore, and instead of it being just a past time, I think I'm ready to convert Vivienne and Company {and by company I mean me} to a complete arts-oriented blog used solely for artistic exposure via the worldwide blogosphere. {Check out Stacie's blog in the sidebar. You'll see what I mean. And Pasto's. And Jo's. And Jessica's. And Mike's. And Shannon's...}
I made Valentines with me and my boyfriend Adrien Brody on them. Aren't we just the cutest couple ever? I know, I know. Mormon culture prohibits me to date until I am sixteen. I mean, honestly, we are only 22 years apart in age so it doesn't really matter. I'm just so sick of people trying to prohibit our love. UGH. No one understands us.
Tonight he's going to make me delicious pizza in his wood stove and then serenade me with my favorite pieces of dialogue from King Kong. He really is perfect and so super thoughtful.
I'm still set on the mullet. Er... Excuse me. Wullet. No one can stop me. Unless I have to get chemo for some weird reason and then I lose all my hair. Then I'll just get a WULLET WIG. And if they do not exist, then I will create them using only hair from the finest Arabian mountain goats, which also exist.
I made this dress a few weeks ago on my brand-spankin' new sewing machine.
{Heh. Reference to my last ranting post about senior pictures.} These lovely photographs were taken by my darling Gurmie, who is such. A. Doll.
Also, I have thought long and hard and have decided that I am growing my hair out into a mullet. This is due to the fact that my boy cut has become rather shabby and the back grows a lot faster than the front, and because Amy Adams in Julie and Julia convinced me that wullets {women-mullets. Technical legitimacy at its finest!} were not the stuff of legends, unlike the Queen of England and Gublerland.{photo courtesy of last.fm}
I'm thinking of going for a Tegan Quinn sort of mullet, and then I'll put feathers in it or something. Or rats. Head-rats. Yeah. Rats that will live on my head.
Drawn during a seminary assembly in like, 10 minutes. Disproportionate, unflattering, yet completely entertaining.
So, basically, I am super duper blessed to have such an incredibly amazing friend like Teresius. Did I mention she is the craftiest person in the world? I'm completely indebted to her. I honestly could spend the next 8 paragraphs telling you all the amazing things about her, but I'm afraid I'll have to leave it at this.
P.S: Weeping tears of sadness That Teresius's favorite band broke up today....
Be like a squirrel girl, be like a squirrel. {Also, Meg weeping on the cover art is extremely applicable.}
