The Diving Bell and the Butterfly

Josh and I watched this movie last night after a recommendation from a fellow aspiring speech therapist.

Heads up for anyone who may want to rent it and watch it after my rave review, it is a foreign film. Had Josh known that before we tracked it down at Blockbuster, I have a feeling that I would have had a hard time getting him to watch it. In fact, I didn't tell him he would be reading subtitles until I was putting it in the DVD player :)

In a nutshell, this movie is about a French man who has a massive stroke. So massive that the doctors told him he should have died. But thanks to the miracles of modern medicine, he lived! Hooray!

Oh but by the way, you're completely paralyzed from head to toe.

After his stroke, he had what is called "locked in syndrome," where he is literally locked into his body. People with this condition have no cognitive impairment, no memory loss, no mental retardation, nothing. Their brain functions exactly the same as pre-stroke. Well, except for the part where their brain tells their muscles to move. But other than that, they're all there. Completely paralyzed. The only thing that they can move is their eyes. And if that isn't bad enough, the man in this movie, Jean-Do, had to have one of his eyes sewn shut because it was dying. Talk about a rough life.

So in comes the speech therapist. Jean-Do cannot talk. Never will talk again. But still needs a way to communicate. Can you imagine being completely aware of everything around you, having thoughts and needs and ideas, and not being able to communicate? That was the boat he was in. The system that his speech therapist came up with was a standard blink response, as in blink once for yes, twice for no type deal. Unfortunately, humans need to communicate more than just yes and no. So she came up with a chart of all the letters in the alphabet, in order of frequency of use, and she would repeat them. When she came to the letter that he wanted, he would blink. And so on and so forth until he spelled out his message. o.n.e.l.e.t.t.e.r.a.t.a.t.i.m.e.

What amazed me was his attitude. His first message to the speech therapist was basically, I want to die. And then he realized that he still had his mind. After all that was taken away from him (did I mention that he was the editor of Elle magazine?), he looked for what he still had. His memory. His imagination. His ideas. And then he decided to write a book. His autobiography. o.n.e.l.e.t.t.e.r.a.t.a.t.i.m.e.

I can't even imagine going through anything like that. Overall, it was a very inspiring and moving movie and I highly, highly recommend it. Josh even liked it. Subtitles and all.

warning: although this came with a PG13 rating, there were two definite boobie shots and a side ding dong shot. beware.

Why I should not be allowed to go to Phoenix. Ever.

Except for it's sooo wonderfully warm. And sunny. And waaaarm.

To date I have been to Phoenix a total of 3 times. All within the past 4 months or so. Apparently, Phoenix is the nearest city where there are like minded crazy people who like to shoot at things. Ok well I'm sure other places shoot at things, but not the same things that I do. Namely targets. While following rules. And time limits. And such.

So. Exhibit A of why I should not be allowed to go to Phoenix:

I somehow convinced Josh that we needed to go to Phoenix for the weekend. For those of you wondering, it's about a 10-11 hour drive, if my memory serves me correctly. So we pack up. And start driving. Did I print mapquest directions? Naaah. We'll be fine. This particular trip we decided to take the slightly longer route through Vegas and stay the night there. And then leave at 3 in the morning for Phoenix. Excellent. Did I print mapquest directions in Vegas? Naaah. There's signs that say "THIS WAY TO PHOENIX!" We'll find it. Yeah no. It's 3:30 in the morning, we're reaching the limits of our sign directions, and Josh is not happy. No problem! We have nifty phones! That give us directions! Hooray! Longer story short, nifty phones tend to die when you rely on them for directions for hours on end. Much swearing and gnashing of teeth occured. Somehow we made it back to Vegas (the same day no less!)(and still married!) and back to the great SLC.

Exhibit B:

(also known as THE VERY NEXT WEEKEND WHY OH WHY DID WE DECIDE TO DO THIS #%&@*&! DRIVE AGAIN)

So we pack up. Again. This time with 2 extra people in tow. Because if a 10 hour drive is uncomfortable with 2 people in the car, doubling the bodies and luggage will double the fun! Yay! Even more fun if they are newly engaged! And like to cuddle in the backseat! Hooray for love!

Did I print mapquest directions this time? Naaah. We've been to Phoenix! Also, half of our backseat was from Phoenix. We'll get there fiiiine. Many, many many many hours later we did get there. And I shot. And did well. Very very well. The trip was deemed a success. But we deemed too soon. The drive home consisted of a snow storm. And ice. And the freeway being closed. CLOSED. As in, turn your car off, walk up and down the freeway, throw snowballs at eachother, pee in front of dozens of cars, CLOSED. For 2 hooooouuuuuurrrrrrrrrsssssssss. Miraculously we made it home intact. And swore to never make that drive again.

Exhibit C:

I need to go to Phoenix for a competition. When is the event scheduled that I need to shoot? On a Thursday. Lovely. Ok well since I have made a vow against driving to Phoenix, I'll fly. No problem. Leave Wednesday night, shoot Thursday morning, fly home Thursday night. Only miss one day of class and no work. What day of class am I missing? A day with a test. And two assignments due. Gaaah. On Monday I was hit with a death cold that is slowly but surely killing me. But I need this competition. So I get dropped off at the airport. I'm a little apprehensive about checking guns (hello terrorist) but to my relief, all goes well. Until I get to security. And I'm pulled over to have my bag searched.

TSA agent: Ma'am are you in law enforcement?

Say what?

TSA: Yeah, I'm going to have to confiscate these.

"These" being an extra box of bullets that I forgot were in my purse.

TSA: Also, why do you have this?

"This" being my pepper spray.

Awesome. My explanation of being a competitive shooter on my way to a competition did not win me any cool points like I thought it might. Sooo, 1 incident report, 1 police officer and 30 minutes later, I was at my gate. Where I promptly waited for 3 hours for my delayed flight. All while deathly ill and wishing for my bed. Eventually I made it to Phoenix, where I enjoyed the 70 degree weather for approximately 15 hours, and then hopped back on a flight to frozen Utah.

The moral of this long and pointless story?

It's amazing how much you can write when you're procrastinating homework.

Also, I think I just lost my cell phone...

So as I was laying in bed last night, I had all these great ideas for blog posts.

They were funny! And witty! And about really exciting topics!

Aaand then I woke up this morning with nuthin.

I tried to sit down and write something.

Anything.

And this is what I came up with.




Do I at least get an A for effort?