TV Commercials

This article is by Andrew Heller and I found it in the Citizen Patriot on Sunday. I truly appreciated it and I hope you will, too

Time to turn up the volume on TV execs

When I read something, I sort of hear it in my mind. So, if you're like me, I WOULD LIKE TO WARN YOU - YES, YOU, the one sitting there reading the Sunday morning newspaper in your SILLY LITTLE SNUGGIE, THE BLANKET WITH THE ARM HOLES - that at times the INTERNAL MIND VOLUME OF TODAY'S COLUMN may occasionally and seemingly randomly spike to OBNOXIOUS LEVELS, thereby causing you to spill your scalding hot cup of coffee IN YOUR LAP, causing excruciating GROIN PAIN.

Of course, I have a point for doing this. Don't I always?

The point is this: Why in the world do people like those Snuggie things? They're blankets. With holes. You could have made your own with a pair of scissors. And yet Snuggies were one of the top-selling Christmas gifts this year. Were Chia Pets all sold out?

My other point is this: THANK GOD FOR CONGRESS! Or more specifically, California Sen. Anna Eashoo, who introduced a bill recently that would outlaw the mysterious and sudden SPIKES IN VOLUME that occur WHEN A TV PROGRAM GOES TO COMMERCIAL!

I know what you're thinking, it's about darned time. I mean, this is a FUNDAMENTAL PROBLEM of modern life. It's about time it was treated as seriously by Congress as other problems facing the nation, such as health care and terrorism.

Because this IS a form of terrorism. My wife and I have both said so for years. We'll be watching, say, a nice, quiet football game and the announcer says, "We'll be right back," and then the next thing we hear is, "MEN, ARE YOU URINATING LESS FREQUENTLY?" And the volume is so loud that all hell breaks loose. Popcorn goes flying. Coffee spills. Laps burn. Car alarms sound. And somewhere in the distance, a baby cries.

The frustrating thing is that TV volume spike is like gas prices going up just before the weekend. It doesn't happen all the time so you're never entirely sure if it's your imagination or not, OR PERHAPS YOUR TV.

That's the nice thing about this bill. It AFFIRMS YOUR SUSPICIONS. It's not just you. You're not crazy. Your TV isn't just a piece of junk. It's an actual problem caused by actual, evil people in the television industry, who can be hunted down and forced to pay for their sins.

First, we'll have to get confessions, which won't be easy. TV executives never have and never will admit that intentional volume spiking actually occurs.

Strong measures may be required. I propose strapping TV executives to BEANBAG CHAIRS and FORCING THEM TO WATCH every last episode of "Full House," complete with commercials.

"Do you hear the volume spike now? Do you? No? Then how about some more of those cute Olsen twins?"

NOOOOOOOO!

And if they still won't confess, I'm afraid we may need to go to a little more off-book, Dick Cheney style, and pour them a nice hot cup of coffee, placing it in their laps.

"Oh, look, a commercial is coming up..."

"HAVE YOU EVER THOUGHT, 'HMM, WHAT I REALLY NEED IS A BLANKET WITH HOLES CUT IN IT? IF SO, YOU'RE IN LUCK...!"


I concur

DAMN, that was a good Christmas!

Despite my constant complaining that Christmases of late haven't felt at all like Christmas (and it might be very true), I had one truly great Christmas

We did our traditional Ukrainian Christmas thing over in Detroit with my dad's side of the family. Same old routine. But the sense of humor of my baba always surprises the hell out of me. She was trying to call Ukraine with this new service (when she usually uses this Penny Talk thing, I guess) and it wasn't working. At first it just wouldn't ring, but every call she made got her a busy signal. She kept mumbling things under her breath and then laughs. I ask her what's wrong? She laughs again and says, "It's the Sputnik. The damn Russians and their Sputnik *somethingsomethinginUkrainian* The Sputnik is busy. I can't call my sister because the Sputnik is busy. Russian Sputnik...pain in the ass."

I love my grandmother. So. Damn. Much.

The borscht was amazing. It always is. I mean, I love this holiday for food reasons alone. I look forward to it every year Pierogies, borscht, vushkas, mushroom gravy...the fun just don't stop.

I'm bringing at least some of it back up to State with me.

The down part of the trip was seeing my grandfather in the state that he's in. His quality of life is so low. It was the first Christmas that he didn't eat with us because he was too weak. It was kinda tough, but such is life.

Dinner on Christmas day yielded a conversation about what we would do if zombies attacked. My mother said she put too much garlic under the skin of the turkey, but she said the vampire would stay away, so that's was a positive. Then my dad asked, "What do we do if the zombies attack, though?" And we, as a family, began to discuss the various ways we would beat back the zombies with whatever was on the table.

And then I watched Friday Night Lights until the wee hours of the morning because I have all three seasons of it now.

Yay. Yay. Yay

In other news, I have screwed up my back. It's the damn bed I've been sleeping on. Pain. So much pain.

And that's all I have for today. I hope everyone had at least a decent Christmas. I'm very excited for New Years. I hope the weather isn't ridiculous like it always is on the 31st. That would make driving places very unpleasant and, in some cases, damn near impossible

take it easy. don't die. don't get raped. Enjoy post-Christmas shopping!

My body's confused

I go from getting around 4 hours of sleep (at most) while I'm up at State, to getting at least 12 hours a night here in Jackson

I HAVE to attribute this to stark boredom. I'm telling you...by 10pm, I'm going to bed. This is just very odd for me, seeing as I rarely saw the inside of my eyelids before 3am during this last semester

I'll get into a "regular" sleep schedule by Christmas Eve at the latest. Thank God for midnight mass.

Yay

In other news, I bought new shoes yesterday. This would not be noteworthy except that it brought up something that I've longed to discuss: employees in clothing/acessory stores

Okay. Now, if you're sitting behind your counter thingy and you're talking to me, I really don't mind. I can make small talk with anyone and, on most days, I enjoy it muchly. As long as you stay where you are and don't bother me about buying anything, we'll talk about the weather or people spilling their coffee on your carpets or whatever else you want to talk about. And I understand the employees that walk around and ask you ONCE if you're looking for something. I don't really like it, but I understand that this is their job and they'd probably get written up if they didn't do it.
But, yesterday, I encountered the most RIDICULOUS lady I have ever seen. She asked me, and my brother and my father individually if we were looking for anything, despite us walking in together and all agreeing that we were just looking around. Then, she proceeded to circle the store and stop by us at various points of our shoe-searching. Every time I picked up a pair to try them on, she would grab at the box and ask if I wanted to put the shoes up at the counter to reserve them until I was done browsing. I politely said no about five times. When I was trying to decide between two pairs, she hoovered like she thought I was attempting to shove the heels down my pants and run out of the store. I'd look up at her and she'd smile and go on looking over my shoulder.

O_o

THEN, at the check-out counter, she tries to make jokes about my indecisive shoe-shopping.

*sigh*

Look, lady. You spent an entire half an hour tailing me through the damn store, peering over my shoulder, grabbing at things. I don't want you to talk to me. You're lucky that I needed winter boots and that I couldn't possibly leave those heels for someone else to buy, because every bit of me wanted to just walk out of that store and flip you the bird.

Well, I'm glad that's off my chest.

In other other news, piano playing is going well. You all are in pretty good luck. I have another song in the works to play over and over and make you want to stab your eyes out. But, at least it'll be a new song, right?

I really love 500 Days of Summer

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban still remains my absolute favorite Harry Potter book.

Alvin and the Chipmunks were just singing Hot N' Cold on that movie trailer. Jesus...

I love turkey leftovers. So many possibilities.

Still feel super neurotic when I eat Skittles.

I am going to marry Joesph Gordon-Lovitt
or maybe Justin Long
but I guess someone in my area will have to do.
*sigh*

Not sure which movie is more terrifying...Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory or Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Hmm

I've missed listening to music while I shower. Yay

Okay. I'm going to leave you alone now. Thanks for wasting time with me

take it easy. don't die. don't get raped

When your home is no longer your own

We have reached the point where my apartment, without a doubt, feels more like home than my childhood house does.

It's kind of odd, empty feeling, though not to be unexpected

Last night, Sam and I hit the bars (or one bar [Dublin Square, in case you wanted to knw]). It was the end of finals and I think we both wanted to get the hell out of my apartment and do something to celebrate. I really enjoyed myself, though Dublin Square does seem like one of those bars you go to in groups. More fun dancing with a group and then I don't feel so guilty taking up an entire table.
It would have been nice if Sean and Grix had come, but I understand. Some people like to celebrate with a drink and some people like to sit and relax. To each their own.

We heard "Call on Me" while we were there. I liked it.

Today, we had my mother's side of the family over for a Christmas gathering of sorts. I do adore my mother's side of the family, but all my cousins have reached an age where having toddlers is not an uncommon thing.

Let it be said: I do not hate babies. They make me very panicky, mainly for the reason that they give me a trapped sort of feeling. I am certainly not ready to have one and that's a really really good thing, because I don't want one. But I would MUCH rather deal with a baby than a toddler. Damn things are so fucking loud and they run around EVERYWHERE. Seriously, they have more energy than a power plant and they happen to think that everyone around them would love to share in that overwhelming energy.

Guess what? I don't. Sit the fuck down. Open your presents. Leave me the hell alone.

And don't take a hammer to our picture frames. Yes, they do break when you hit them. And don't tear the pages out of that book. They cannot be glued back in. I'm glad we had these learning experiences together.

*sigh*

In other news, my mother has let me have my Christopher O'Riley piano book before Christmas. Perhaps this is because she, like everyone else (including myself), is tired of hearing the same 6 songs over and over and over again. Or maybe she was being kind. That's a possibility, too

All the songs are going to be a tough challenge, but that's okay. It'll give me something to work for. If I can pull some of these off, I will finally be able to call myself a piano player.

yay

Like I thought, I 2.5ed my poly sci class. I'm just grateful it's a 2.5 and not anything lower. My psych and english grade can make up for it. I just would hate for this to fuck up my GPA.

Whatever. It's just one class.

Now, I'm watching the new Doctor Who episode with my brother. They had a Doctor Who insider thingy focusing on David Tennant's seasons and going through his companions and all the drama with them, as well as his general greatness. This is fun.
Though, I'm going to have nightmares about these water creature thingys. I always see the creepiest things on Doctor Who...

Well, I'm going to go now, but, you know

take it easy. don't die. don't get raped. stay away from the creepy water monster things - as with most creepy things on Doctor Who, it's kind of contagious and you don't want to be a creepy water monster thing, now, do you?

Finals. Ugh

On the eve of final's week, I have decided to take some time out and write a blog post.

Mostly, I wanted to document that fact that I have the strangest and possibly the most painful scratches I've ever had up and down my right forearm. This creeps me out a lot. I already have healing scratches in and around the same area (ones that lack origin memorable enough for me to remember where they came from, either). Then, as I was driving back a minute ago, I noticed that my arm was burning a little. It got progressively worse. I went into the bathroom and I seriously have 10 scratches on my arm, one of which reaches from my wrist to my elbow in a smooth arch.
I know I was scratching at my arm a bit tonight, but not hard at all. Nothing that would leave this stuff. God, I'm surprised they're not bleeding.

I actually got all of my polysci reading done for the final tomorrow. Do I comprehend well enough to pull off a 3.0? Probably not, but it is done. I didn't even think I'd get that far, so this is an accomplishment.

Having a full week of finals is going to be a newer experience for me. Usually, it's just spanish that I have a final in - the rest are papers. This time, I didn't have to write any papers/screenplays/short stories/etc. at all. It's all written finals and they're spread out all week long.

At least I know that no matter how badly I fail my psych exam, I'll still have a 4.0. That's always a wonderful feeling.

Not so lucky in the other finals, but what can you do? You take your cookies any way you can get 'em, right? Unless they give you nuts and you're allergic to nuts...then it might be safer not to take them like that. Or coconut. Some people hate coconut. I hate coconut

Fuck it

Pre-finals sushi was had. Nothing spectacular to report there. Just documentation that it happened.

Then, Sam and I went on an odd little journey to play the original Left4Dead. Stauff couldn't do it (finals. whatever), so we stole away with his Xbox. None of the classrooms were open to play, the Pillar Room was packed, we couldn't work anything out in the theatre, so a good 5 hours (or so) and 5 chapters of polysci reading later, we ended up at my apartment.

I'm not sure I've played a more entertaining game of Left4Dead. I might have watched others play a campaign like ours with the same level of hilarious comments, but it was nice to take part in one.

Christmas break be comin' up quickly and I still haven't decided how much time I'm going to spend in Jackson and how much time I'll spend here. I KNOW I should work at the movie theater and get some money for the upcoming semester. No buts. I know I should, and we'll just leave it at that.

Hopefully I can make it to the Walsh estate for New Year's, though. That would be really nice.

Well...all right then. That might be it.

It might be time for sleeping.

Yay

take it easy. don't die. don't get raped. good luck on your finals!

Uh oh...

After a big turkey feast, what is the first thing you want to do?

Sleep? Really?

No.

I wanted to play a video game. And since the sum total of my video game experience in the last year has been all of the killing zombies persuasion, I found myself in quite a fix. My brother has never and probably will never own an Xbox, so there was no going out and renting Call of Duty or Left4Dead. I thought about playing Final Fantasy of some kind or Kingdom Hearts. I might later on in the vacation (you know, all 2 or 3 days left of it), but I wanted something I was semi familiar with.

Which led me to Prince of Persia.

Now, the last time I played this game, it was with Ryan, Stauff, and Sean. They wanted to get drunk. I wanted to play Left4Dead. Sean's game was fucked up. Ryan suggested I play Prince of Persia and every time I fell off a cliff, they would drink. Very funny, guys. I've just learned to work the controls for the Xbox and I'm still getting used to them.

Needless to say, I fell off many a cliff and they got drunk.

But, anywho. I've had a bit more experience with dual joysticks (I think that's the right terminology. Correct me if I'm wrong) and this time, I didn't fall off so many cliffs. In fact, I think I did pretty well, if I do say so myself. So well that I kept playing and playing until I thought my eyes were going to catch fire from lack of moisture.

I need to read 100 Years of Solitude over break. This is not going to be easy.

Thanksgiving dinner was good. It didn't feel quite so holiday-y though because we didn't go anywhere. And as much as I sometimes hate seeing relatives, it definitely feels a bit more empty when I don't see my Aunt Chris. Just kind of feels like an ordinary dinner...only much bigger and with pie. The average Korytowsky dinner lacks pie...so, that's different
But, during dinner, I had my dad telling me what words meant in Ukrainian and their equivalent in Russian. Not that I'll be able to repeat anything back to anyone or speak any kind of Ukrainian at anybody, but it was still relatively educational.

By the way, I hate the way Prince of Persia ends.

Saw Sunshine Cleaning and The Proposal today. I knew Emily Blunt was in The Devil Wears Prada but I recognized her from another movie and I could not figure it out. Thank God for IMDB

The Jane Austen Bookclub

Sunshine Cleaning was a good movie for a lot of different reasons, though, as most indie movies nowadays are, surprisingly sad.
The Proposal was very good. That damn puppy dog was so damn cute. Every time there was a scene with Ryan Reynolds and the dogs, I'd squeal like the little girl I am and my brother would comment on Ryan Reynolds and I'd have to tell him that it wasn't Ryan Reynolds that I was melting over...it was the dog. But, the movie itself was also very funny. I enjoyed it.

Well, I hope everyone had a fantastical Turkey Day. Tomorrow is Black Friday, which means I'll be running out hourly thermoses of coffee and cider to my dad whose one mission in life is to always be the first in line at these sorts of competitive, grabby things. I thought about asking for an Xbox 360, but I know the only reason why I want one is to play a certain game and 1) I'm distracted enough as it is, 2) Stauff and Sean both have one and that's enough, 3) I'd drive Emily crazy if I played it all the time, 4) I'd drive myself crazy if I played it all the time, and 5) There are things that I want more.
They are getting a Wii, though. My mother claims it's for the Wii Fit, but I know better.

She just wants Rock Band so she can fulfill her lifelong ambition to be a Beatle.

That woman is so transparent.

That is all

Take it easy. Don't die. Don't get raped. Enjoy your Turkey Day leftovers. I know I will

Ahh. So THIS is what a good day feels like

I am grateful for many things

Swinging on playground swings at midnight is certainly one of them

Hot chocolate is another

The anticipation of a well-deserved break is yet another thing

Thus starts my Thanksgiving spirit. Yay for thank-worthy things!

Had a normal day. Got home. Realized that I didn't have rehearsal or tech week or a show to do. Immediately better.
Played some games on pogo for the first time in weeks. Addiction Solitaire and Lottso, how I adore thee. I bow before thee. Along with some really beautiful selections from Pandora, it was a solitaire night made in heaven by God himself.
And, feeling the need to get out and do something with my free night, I asked Emily to go for a walk with me. We ended up at a playground a bit down Hagadorn. While I merely swung on the rather comfy swings, Emily played around the junglegyms and what have you. It brought me back to those times after John's, usually after cast parties, when we would both find ourselves drunk and on the swings, proclaiming our roomie love to one another.

Oh, nostalgia. Thou art sometimes nice.

Now, I sit, drinking a nice, warm mug of hot cocoa and musing about the kind of pies I will bring home for the Thanksgiving Feast. It is usually my mother who picks the pies, thus setting the mood for the Thanksgiving Feast (for the presence of a cherry crisp instead of a cherry pie makes ALL the difference). This year, I'm the pie boss. Booya, bitch!

So, this post gets a happy smiley because it's a happy smiley day. Yay

^_^

If you ever wanted to know what a person with acute paranoia looks like...well, keep watching

We'll just get this out of the way:

I am paranoid. So very very paranoid

But not in the way that most people are paranoid. I don't think people are out to get me. I don't think the world is going to end.
What I am paranoid of is pissing people off. I hate when people get mad at me or I can see a fight coming. Even if it's just a friendly phone call or what have you, I will freak out, over-react and worry all day long.

Example: Today my mother calls during class and leaves me a message that says in what I think is Mad Mom voice, "Hi. Call me back as soon as you can. I need to ask you something. I'm at work until 5 so any time after that. Bye"
Now, I get this message at 12. Shit. What did I do now? I mean, my bank account is fine, I don't think I gave my mother's computer a virus in the 2 hours I was on it. Did she find something? And I worry up a storm. Even if there is absolutely NO JUSTIFICATION as to why she would be angry. But, I'm beside myself with worry-ridden curiosity
Turns out she wanted to clarify something with me on my Christmas List.

*sigh*

I am pathetic

In other news, I started a conversation about sex today in my special topics course. We were talking about Twilight (Penn's son's "girl with whom he has an understanding" [because girlfriend was just too damn complicated a concept, I guess] likes Twilight) and Penn called it a trashy romance and I had to tell him that it was not even worthy of the trashy romance title because there's no sex.

And there we went

Now, my mother gave me The Talk daily. Talking about sex with adults does not bother me. Talking about sex with anyone does not bother me. But, I forget that it bothers other people, particularly students in regards to their professors.
I think we had a great conversation about it. Baring the fact that I've never technically HAD it, I think we came to some good conclusions and agreed for the most part. He said something that I had never heard anyone say before - not that it's a ground-breaking, novel thought. I'm sure someone else had this thought, but it just never occurred to me in the sense of how he said it.

Sex is an imaginative act. One needs a great imagination for it to be any good at all.

Agree? Disagree?

And then he did the thing that I love this man for the most: took this odd comment of mind about the lack of sex in Twilight, moved his way through a pretty detailed yet indirect conversation about what makes sex good - in literature and in life - and then, somehow, tied it all into magical realism and Gabriel Garcia Marquez's "100 Years of Solitude."

And it all made sense

I came out of it all pretty intrigued, while everyone else was just merely uncomfortable.

*shrug* I had fun

Oh, and another things about my paranoia, because you're all so interested, yeah?

I am TERRIFIED that I'm going to develop Schizophrenia

Truly terrified

Which makes going to Abnormal Psych and talking about Schizophrenia for two whole class periods torture of the cruelest kind

That is all

Take it easy. Don't die. Don't get raped, and if you ever get mad at me, don't leave me in suspense. At least do me that favor.
Or don't. It'll be better revenge

Ugh. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck oh fucking hell

I have a test in about 3 hours that I am most decidedly not ready for, but I'm writing in this because I have just about reached my wits end. Technically I need at least an 86% on the next two exams to pull off a 3.0

Yeah

Not gonna happen

Whatever, man. You wanna run a class in which a grade will depend on 3 cumulative exams, that's your fucking deal, dude. But I'm telling you now, no matter how attractive and funny you might be, you're gonna pay. I'm voodoo dollin' ya tonight...once I've slept and regained some of my self-confidence.

Oh, and that's the other thing. I have rehearsal from 10 until 1am tonight. Whoopde-fucking-doo. I swear on all that is holy, if I fall asleep and snore and someone wakes me up

Yeah, well, I'll just have to make me another voodoo doll.

I can just keep churnin' 'em out, people. Don't think that I won't, because I will.

On a less violent note, this weekend was relatively good. I spent more time on the couch, recuperating, that I would have liked, but there were some good movies on, so it wasn't too big of a deal.
Friday night was the Improv show with the freshies. They were fantastical. I was so damn proud of them in between my fits of laughter. Yay! Then, of course, got smashed at the after-party. As I put it later, I probably wouldn't have gotten as drunk if the party had been better, but it was fine all the same. I ate a lot of really really cheap Taco Bell, and now I'm not sure if it tasted SO GOOD because I was drunk...or because eating that cheap really can actually taste that good.

Saturday night, I saw "The Time Travlers's Wife." Eh. Cute movie. Emily's told me that I have to read the book because the book isn't a chick flick like the movie was. I mean, it wasn't half bad. It was more funny when the lights came up and a good portion of the girls were still crying. Their faithful (we hope) boyfriends had awkward arms around them, trying to hold back laughter. I just laughed out loud. I think inside, they appreciated that someone was laughing at their girlfriends.

Sunday was study day

And now we're back to my overwhelming desire to buy pins. Lots and lots of pins. Thick ones. A ridiculous amount of thick pins dipped in acids, shat on by a dog, blessed by Lucifer himself.

That sounds good

Now...take it easy. don't die. don't get raped

(all that seems a little empty considering, doesn't it. oops. oh well)

Paper writing is not for the faint of heart

Yeah, yeah. haven't written in a while. blah blah so on and so forth

I have a paper to write, therefore, I'm updating

Predictable, I know

Many wonderful things that I could have written about but didn't happened in the last few weeks: Halloween festivities complete with killing REAL zombies on Grand River, Ingrid Michaelson concert, numerous episodes of Glee, more walks late at night than should be academically healthy, my family getting a piano, Carla getting pregnant again (!!!!!) and so much more

So, why I chose to write about this day, I'll never know.

Perhaps I will discuss with you (or at you, rather, unless you leave a comment in reply) the link between people who own yellow VW Bugs and people who speak German.

My AP Lit/German teacher from high school always drove her yellow Bug with her Deutche sticker on the back (just a D, but still) to school. I mean, it's not as if the sticker set her car apart from all the other Bugs since no one else drove a VW Bug, but here begins my evidence.

College time and I meet Meredith. Yay for Meredith. Last year, I found out that she owns a yellow VW Bug. Guess where she is right now? Germany. Hmmm

Fast forward to yesterday. I'm walking in the parking lot right behind Akers/Hubbard (waaaaay out in BFE) and I pass a yellow VW Bug with a sticker on the back of it. What did the sticker say, you ask? Well, I'll tell you:

Deutchland

Now, perhaps I'm excluding all other cars in my observations. It might be that these sorts of stickers show up on blue Chevy Impalas all the time and I'm just not looking because I WANT there to be some kind of odd correlation between these cars and the land of the Germans.
And I know the car's name has german origins, so that could account for some of it, but I've never seen a black Bug or a blue Bug or any other kind of VW Bug or ANY kind of Volkswagon, for that matter, have a Deutche sticker

Just something for you to think about.

I feel like this weekend is one of those where there's a shit ton of stuff going on, but I cannot remember what I'm supposed to do. I feel like I have ten million things planned and I can't remember a one of them. It's one of those situations where someone says, "We're doing such and such on Friday. You're coming, right?" and I say, "Of course. Wouldn't miss it."

But I might just if I can't remember what IT is.

So, if I miss you this weekend, I'm sorry.

I have to start writing things down.

In other news, I ADORE my political science professor

That is all

Take it easy. Don't die. Don't get raped

Don't want to fall another moment in your gravity

Had one of the best weekends I've had in a while.

Grand Rapids was peachy keen. I love seeing Bridget, Christine, Cheeseburger and Sarah. Usually when people come in twos (like Bridget and Mary Kate or Christine and Sarah), I feel left out. Sister fun, right? Not with these people. They're fantastical. I spent way more time than is healthy on Sarah's iTouch, reading through some of the sex trivia that she has on there. There were literally 540 of them, so I was proud that I got to 230. I learned some things I didn't know (which isn't surprising), like, along with the genitals, the nasal passages will swell during orgasm. Somehow this equates to helping with sinus issues. I don't know. Those were two separate trivia statements. Your nasal passages swell during sex. Sex helps to get rid of sinus blockage.

You can work that out yourselves

Also, if you don't want to get pregnant, don't orgasm. It can only help the sperm

^_^

Ren fest was cool, too. I stayed strong and didn't buy anything, though I really wanted another ring. Lindsay's dress was amazing, especially considering she made it all on her own (I think).

And I got the sweatshirt from Tyler. Epic win.

Got home Saturday night and spent it relaxing with Katie, Sasha, Christine and Emily. Emily had made cookies, so when I walked through the door, the entire apartment smelled of baking chocolate chip cookies. So good

Then Sunday, we went apple picking. I swear I ate 10 apples that I didn't pay for. Their apple cinnamon doughnuts are heavenly and we got a bunch of cider. Now our entire bottom drawer in our fridge is FILLED TO THE BRIM with apples.

Yay for happy weekends

I'm late for class

bye!

Mmm, cherrios

Countdown: 1 day until Bridget and Grand Valley goodness. Yay

Life's been going well enough. Had a bit of a blip this morning, but, as far as I'm concerned, it's taken care of. Unlike last time, I've got a wide support system (and not just my lovely Bridget) and that makes this easier to do. Thank God

Trojan Women was last night. While I appreciate Kabuki theatre and thought everything was very beautiful, it was an emotional overload. They seriously never let up. There was crying and lamenting and more crying and shouting and the lamenting continued. It was all very dramatic. Rachel was lovely. Ross Egan played a surprisingly beautiful woman. The puppet was scary

Got my screenplay back from Jeff yesterday after a flurry of forgetfulness on his part and running around on my part. But I have it. He gave some really good comments, praise and criticism, and now I can finally get to editing the damn thing. He told me to let him know when I was done with a second draft, as he wants to look at it when I'm done. Yay ^_^

I don't want to decide what I'm doing after this year. I have to sit down with Sasha and Katie at some point and discuss this. And I have to talk to my parents. Or, I could get off my duff and get grad school applications done and over with and just go to grad school after this year. That's a possibility, too. Not a fun one, but days of fun are coming to an end. Now it's time to get serious

*snicker*

I have class soon and a shower needs to be had, so

take it easy. don't die. don't get raped.

Curse you, Saturday

My life is uninteresting, so forgive me for not updating.

Not much has been going on. Just hanging around with people and relaxing and not studying for tests so I got 70% on them.

Same old, same old.

What I've come today to say is that I feel like the internet dies on Saturdays. It's not that I don't enjoy my Saturdays - hell, I would kill for ten Saturdays in a row...or for it to perpetually be Saturday...or Friday. I like Fridays a lot.

I digress

It's just that I have very few web comics that I stay faithful to and none of them update on the weekends. That's fine and dandy, folks, because I have Post Secret on Sunday, but what about Saturday? When is Saturday going to liven up on the updating? Perhaps this is just me, afraid of surfing the wide reaches of the internet in case dear Beverly decides she wants to be a bitch and get a virus. Perhaps you all think I'm insane. While these things might be true, I still feel like the internet does a death thing on Saturday and rises out of the ashes like an electronic phoenix on Sunday morning

The internet is like Jesus - dies on Friday afternoon and rises from the dead on Sunday morning.

Anywho, as much as I would like to savor the weekend, I REALLY want Tuesday to come around. I had emailed Jeff Wray a while ago to get my screenplay back from him. To make a long story short, we didn't meet when we said we would. Whatever. And I was going to email him again and try to set something up, but I just kept forgetting

but

He emailed me saying, "I know you're about ready to clock me right now, but we have GOT to meet." He went on to say that he really wanted to see me to talk about my screenplay because he liked it a lot and had a ton of questions about it.

Now, this email came RIGHT after I got the feedback for my poly sci test. The two were very different from each other. One said, "YOU FAIL. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHA *coughcoughsputter* .....HAHAHAHAH!" and the other one said, "Epic win, Chrissy. Major epic win."

And since I look for career signs everywhere, I took this as, "For the love of all that is good and righteous, Chrissy, do NOT go to law school."

But I never listen to those signs. I'm still considering it

But that's beside the point. I'm just very excited to hear his comments on the screenplay. I realize that the last 50 or so pages were ridiculously bad and had more continuity issues than any time-traveling story you're likely to come across, so I'm both curious and concerned about what he's going to say. Nevertheless, he didn't say that he wanted to give me the written comments. He said he wanted to talk with me about it. This might not be significant in your eyes, but for me, it really means the world.

yay

It might be time for dinner now and maybe some margaritas? yeah? yeah?

I think so

take it easy. don't die. don't get raped!

Still sweeping for the future

Today, I went to my career advising meeting

To make a long story short, she didn't give me the Lightbulb Answer, as I've taken to calling it, but as we talked, I came up with some things.

At first, it was just depressing. It got to the point that I thought I was going to cry. We were going over interests, in which I shot down the possibility of a job in every aspect because I'm too damn insecure about my writing, acting, ability to teach, and so on and so forth. Then, past job experience - yep, not a lot there. Then where I am in this whole career-finding business. Again, not a ton there.

She then told me that all the options she would have suggested for me, I had already thought of and ruled out on my own.

Well, damn

But, then we talked further. A few things came up:

Bartending
Law school
Library Sciences

So, I can either be a bartender, a lawyer (preferably something that's NOT litigation heavy) or a librarian...or some odd combination of a bartending librarian...or a library lawyer...or a lawyer who bribes the courts with strategically made Long Islands.

The possibilities are so exciting, I'm having difficulty choosing

In the meantime, she made me take a personality test (MMPI [you know, are you an ENFJ or an ISTJ]) and that damn career test I think we took at Lumen some time or another. I didn't actually get the results back. They went straight to my career adviser. That sucks

But for real, I'm glad I went. I'm now leaning a bit towards Library Sciences. Now, I know this isn't law school and some people might be disappointed, but I think I would like doing this. Of course, there are more options open and my adviser will help me think of more once she gets those tests back, so I'm on my way to not feeling so anxious about all this stuff.

Yay!

In other news, I had terrifying dreams last night. Not that I'm going to tell you what they were about. I just want you to know that I had bad dreams. I hope you feel concerned

take it easy. don't die. don't get raped.

I weep for the future

I have learned my lesson:

Never talk about the future or grad school possibilities after a long day of classes you loathe.

Especially if you're talking to someone you now rarely see or get to talk to.

As per usual, we pretty much ended up talking about our futures (or rather, my future, because it's selfish old me and I can only have conversations about myself, so beware. I'm self-involved) and it just made me really upset. I understand that these are issues that I have to address, and I KNOW that everyone feels hopeless when it comes to decisions about grad school or jobs. But just because everyone is having their eyes stabbed out with a spork doesn't make the fact that you're eyes are getting stabbed out with a spork any less painful.

So I whined and I made excuses and probably drove Bridget absolutely round the bend with my whining and excuses. It was so bad that when I got off the phone I was feeling hopeless about law/grad school AND there was self-loathing going on for taking over that damn conversation with my stupid insecurities, AS I ALWAYS SEEM TO DO.

*sigh*

I'm not going into the conversation here. I lived it once. I'm not going into it again.

But! There is light in this post

I went upstairs, drank a ton of water to push down that damn knot in my throat and talked with Emily for a bit. One thing led to another and now I have an appointment with a career planner person thingy who apparently is God when it comes to helping Arts and Letters kids find a job to shoot for. Here's to hoping that she blesses me with abundant job wisdom and opportunities. Amen

And then I made myself some monkey bread with melted frosting on it.

And then we watched A Very Potter Musical

And then I laughed until I couldn't laugh anymore

And then I went to bed.

Yay

take it easy. don't die. don't get raped

I lurv my dragon

Is it really only Wednesday?

And we had Monday off

This is pathetic


I found an entire CD pack (2 CDs) of German club pop hits in my car. At first I couldn't remember where I had gotten them from, seeing as I don't usually buy CDs on a whim, much less buy German pop hits. I don't speak German. I think it sounds like a funny language, especially when it's sung, so I try to avoid these kinds of things at all costs. But, then I remembered that I didn't buy it - Sabrina lent it to me. And before I could give it back, I did the avoid-her-like-the-plague thing and she did the go-to-basic-training thing and it was never returned. Now I'm stuck with these 42 Schwarz Rot Gold 100% Deutsche Hits.

But

Perhaps I don't give these German folk enough credit. Some of these songs aren't half bad. Don't get me wrong, some are downright frightening, but if one were holding a mock rave, one might put some of these puppies on and let 'em bark...

It's 9:46 in the morning. Give me a fucking break.

Shit. It's 9:46 in the morning. I have to go to class. I guess that's all you're getting for now.

Take it easy. don't die. don't get raped. don't listen to bad German pop

Punch me in the face

Today sucked a whole bunch of butt; perhaps the legal limit of butt was sucked today - not over the limit.

It wasn't that bad.

Besides the disgusting amount of walking, changing literally half my schedule in a mere 2 hours (and 3 computer labs), making a really hard decision that I didn't want to make, a supreme lack of food, unemployment hanging over my head, walking during the hottest parts of the day with three full binders in my bag, money problems, book expenses, and getting in WAY over my head with this damn class load...

it wasn't that bad.

*rolls eyes*

I really wanted to take the Love and Sex in Antiquity class, but for the sake of my sanity and my parent's bank account, I think I'm going to drop it. My adviser says I don't need it (that is, unless I fail something, but that's not too likely to happen [I hope]) because I have enough credits without that classical studies course. There goes all that wonderful Greek literature back to SBS. Oh well. Now I get to sleep in until 12pm or 1pm if I feel like it. Tuesdays and Thursdays will be good days to work.

We had a good dinner, though, and then got ourselves some wonderful ice cream across the street and proceeded to watch gruesome Animal Planet programs - I Got Bitten and I Shouldn't Be Alive.

*shudder*

So, this one guy got eaten by a bear. Like whoa. The bear bit him in such a spot that his entire skull collapsed and his eye sockets squeezed his eyes completely of the sockets, severing any nerves that held his eyes in his head. He said the only pain he felt as he was going in and out of consciousness was the bear's claws in his left quad and in his shoulders.
The next guy got attacked by a shark. Like whoa. When they saved him from the water, he said that they put him in a tourniquet bag that does just that - acts as a tourniquet to stop bleeding. He thought that they circulate warm water through the bag to keep up your temperature. Animal Planet corrected him; they weren't circulating warm water through the bag - it was all of his blood surrounding him because there were too many wounds bleeding out.
The next guy was bit a ton of times by a rattlesnake. It was so bad that for 4 days straight, it looked like there were worms running around beneath his skin because his muscles were going into seizure-like spasms from the venom. I had little sympathy for this man. He brought home the snake from his backyard for fun and then wasn't watching when the snake got out. I was glad he got bit, though, because my favorite Venomologist, Sean, was his doctor and I love seeing Sean on the TV. He's my TV Doctor Boyfriend. Hi, Sean!

I Shouldn't Be Alive was about two guys who go boating out on the Sea of Cortes and run into a nasty storm, marooning them on the only island on that sea to not have any vegetation, water, shade, and so on and so forth. They survived four days without water or food. The people that finally found them almost left them there because it was hard to believe that anyone would live through that and the poor Mexicans thought these two guys were lying.

Now, 'tis time for me to sleep and forget that I ever watched these shows. Blech

take it easy. don't die. don't get raped. don't get mauled by a bear. don't get eaten by a shark. don't take stray rattlesnakes home with you unless Sean the Venomologist is nearby, which in that case, I'll call 911 and me and him can bond. don't get stranded on an island on the Sea of Cortes

^_^

I'm back!!!

I have the urge to put a status update at the top of this thing, but that's what I did for London and not what I usually do here.

Suffice to say, I'm doing well

I thought on my first blogpost back, I'd talk about blogging

Not everyone has the same problem as I do, but some do and that problem is admitting to reading someone else's blog.

Now, I have no idea why this would be so hard to admit. You put a link to your blog on facebook or your myspace or what have you and you have to be prepared for people to read it. Not a big deal. Obviously if you put it up for it to be public, a good part of you wants people to be interested in what you have to say and read it. And if you are one of those who clicked on the link and is now reading someone's blog, you should not feel the least bit awkward, right? It's public

But, sometimes I pretend that I don't stalk people nightly via blog. And I'd feel a little more weird about my odd denials if it wasn't for the fact that I KNOW people do it to me, too. There are a few people I KNOW read my blog while I was in London, yet, they insist on being surprised when I tell them that I went to Scotland or whatever else. That's perfectly fine. I do it, too. I just find it completely odd that some of us do this.

For the record, if you're reading this, it's very likely that I read your blog, too. Let that be a fact: I read your blog

Okay. Time to go eat more chips and watch more Dirty Jobs

Take it easy. Don't die. Don't get raped. Bye ^_^

Naps after left4dead are glorious

So, I realize this is a pointless post, that it's a bit immature, shows my indecisiveness, and has no bearings on your lives whatsoever, but I can't decide which books I should take with me to London. I have six to choose from and I think that might be too many

this is where you come in.

what book should i read first, second, and so on

Here's what I got:

~Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
~My Name is Will: A novel of sex, drugs, and Shakespeare by Jess Winfield
~The Red Tent by Anita Diamant
~The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova
~The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time by Mark Haddon
~Les Liaisons Dangereuses by Pierre Choderlos de Laclos

Please help me

grrrr. argh

Would someone like to tell me why it is that dentists seem to think it necessary to numb you the fuck up in order to fix a cavity

!!!YET!!!

though you cannot feel your entire face due to the TWO numbing shots that take, literally, a minute each to administer, they always find a way to drill into the one nerve that somehow missed the numbing and proceed to drill in that area for five mintues, regardless of the fact that your eyes are filling up with tears and your butt seems to be walking itself down the chair.

le sigh

I thought this was pretty badass...

A man asked Cecil ( from her http://www.straightdope.com/ fame) to explain Schroedinger's cat. He questioned in verse. She replied in verse. I thought it was badass so I'm sharing

Dear Cecil:
Cecil, you're my final hope
Of finding out the true Straight Dope
For I have been reading of Schroedinger's cat
But none of my cats are at all like that.
This unusual animal (so it is said)
Is simultaneously live and dead!
What I don't understand is just why he
Can't be one or other, unquestionably.
My future now hangs in between eigenstates.
In one I'm enlightened, the other I ain't.
If you understand, Cecil, then show me the way
And rescue my psyche from quantum decay.
But if this queer thing has perplexed even you,
Then I will and won't see you in Schroedinger's zoo.
— Randy F., Chicago

Cecil replies:
Schroedinger, Erwin! Professor of physics!
Wrote daring equations! Confounded his critics!
(Not bad, eh? Don't worry. This part of the verse
Starts off pretty good, but it gets a lot worse.)
Win saw that the theory that Newton'd invented
By Einstein's discov'ries had been badly dented.\
What now? wailed his colleagues. Said Erwin, "Don't panic,
No grease monkey I, but a quantum mechanic.
Consider electrons. Now, these teeny articles
Are sometimes like waves, and then sometimes like particles.
If that's not confusing, the nuclear dance
Of electrons and suchlike is governed by chance!
No sweat, though--my theory permits us to judge
Where some of 'em is and the rest of 'em was.
"Not everyone bought this. It threatened to wreck
The comforting linkage of cause and effect.
E'en Einstein had doubts, and so Schroedinger tried
To tell him what quantum mechanics implied.
Said Win to Al, "Brother, suppose we've a cat,
And inside a tube we have put that cat at--
Along with a solitaire deck and some Fritos,
A bottle of Night Train, a couple mosquitoes
(Or something else rhyming) and, oh, if you got 'em,
One vial prussic acid, one decaying ottom
Or atom--whatever--but when it emits,
A trigger device blasts the vial into bits
Which snuffs our poor kitty. The odds of this crime
Are 50 to 50 per hour each time.
The cylinder's sealed. The hour's passed away. Is
Our pussy still purring--or pushing up daisies?
Now, you'd say the cat either lives or it don't
But quantum mechanics is stubborn and won't.
Statistically speaking, the cat (goes the joke),
Is half a cat breathing and half a cat croaked.
To some this may seem a ridiculous split,
But quantum mechanics must answer, "Tough shit.
We may not know much, but one thing's fo' sho':
There's things in the cosmos that we cannot know.
Shine light on electrons--you'll cause them to swerve.
The act of observing disturbs the observed--
Which ruins your test. But then if there's no testing
To see if a particle's moving or resting
Why try to conjecture? Pure useless endeavor!
We know probability--certainty, never.
'The effect of this notion? I very much fear
'Twill make doubtful all things that were formerly clear.
Till soon the cat doctors will say in reports,
"We've just flipped a coin and we've learned he's a corpse."
'So saith Herr Erwin. Quoth Albert, "You're nuts.
God doesn't play dice with the universe, putz.
I'll prove it!" he said, and the Lord knows he tried--
In vain--until fin'ly he more or less died.
Win spoke at the funeral: "Listen, dear friends,
Sweet Al was my buddy. I must make amends.
Though he doubted my theory, I'll say of this saint:
Ten-to-one he's in heaven--but five bucks says he ain't."
— Cecil Adams

Books, books, books and some more books

Again, sorry for the gaps. The life I lead in the summer is not at all interesting...

but the books I read are, so that's what I'm writing about today. Yay.

I actually did my research before I went off to find books to take with me to London. I set after books that were going to captivate my interest like The Shadow of the Wind did five years ago, thus that was the base research book.

Before I go on, I have realized something fully that I kind of knew all along: I am way too picky with what I read. Unlike my relationship with people, I refuse to give a book a second chance and, sometimes, even a first chance. If it doesn't strike my fancy in the first two pages, it's down on the bedside table and isn't touched again but to be put up on the top shelf of the bookcase. I realize this is a gigantic downfall in me, because I miss out on some really good reads, but if I'm not completely dominated by a book from the start, I feel as if it is not worth my time to try to plow through it.
I actually did that with the first Harry Potter book, believe it or not. I read the first few pages...gave it a few chapters and then put it down. Not for me. Someone told me that I had to get to Hogwarts before it got good, and since it was someone I trusted, I plowed through. The outcome was sunny, thankfully, though it did take me until the 4th book to get to the hopelessly addicted stage.

There are very few books that people recommend to me that I will pick up from the bookstore. Now, if you're to shove the book under my nose and command me to read, it's likely that I'll give it the good, 'ol college try.
You will have mighty success if you give me short stories. I adore all sorts of short stories; they are within the page limit that my patience will allow in most cases. And if it's a 30 page story and I get 10 pages in and don't like it, it's only 20 more until the end, so why not finish it? They also have a quality of drawing you in quickly, because they must. Novels get the luxury of having a little more time to bide before they submit their final argument.

And old friend used to shove book after book at me and none of them stuck, because she didn't truly get that, while I appreciated a good love story, the tired stories about down-on-their-luck fishermen's daughters finding love in the unsightly muscled pirates were not the kind of thing I was interested in. The only book she gave me that I enjoyed was Phantom by Susan Kay, and that's mainly because it was glorified Phantom of the Opera fan fiction.

She didn't like the book anyway, so she gave it to me. Go figure.

I would never have had the pleasure of reading anything by Kevin Brockmeir without Sam, as well as a good portion of Steven King's short stories, so I'm thankful for that. House of Leaves is debatable ^_~

I don't know if I'll ever stop having bad dreams about that one.

Okay! So, the books that I bought:

The Angel's Game by Carlos Ruiz Zafon (haven't bought yet, but will tomorrow, seeing as it is coming out on the 16th. yay!)
The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield
The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova
The Red Tent by Anita Diamant

I have since read The Thirteenth Tale. Reaction still to come.

The Red Tent is a first-person narrative told from the point of view of Dinah, daughter of Jacob and sister to Joseph (you know, the Joseph of the Technicolor Dreamcoat fame ^_^). She is telling the stories of the women of her time that were left out of the bible, because the men could not go into the red tent, which is the tent that the women went to during menstral cycles and for childbirth. It's a book written by a very devout jewish woman who has a taste for feminist literature. Fun fun fun and historical.

The Historian is the book I know the least about. Wikipedia is telling me that the "plot blends the history and folklore of Vlad Ţepeş and his fictional equivalent Count Dracula."
Here's the web address, if you're curious. They could probably tell you more than I could
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Historian

The Angel's Game is Zafon's most recently translated novel and the story exists in the same universe as Julian Carax and Daniel and the whole cast of characters from The Shadow of the Wind. I'm not sure if it includes them, but it exists in their Barcelona, so that's good enough for me. I'm just going to pray that the translator was as good as the one that came before her.


The Thirteenth Tale touches on truth, storytelling, and the ghosts that exist when they are not confronted. The reasons that I enjoyed this book, as well as The Shadow of the Wind, had to do with the plots centering around people's pasts. The pasts of these rich, entitled families were buried deep with the people that had experienced their cruel elements and had died because of them.The Aldayas and the Angelfields do not share the same experiences and maybe not even the same dynamics as a family, but the horrors that the parents commit against their children, consciously or unconsciously, and how that shapes those involved has always interested me.
There's so much more to it than what I'm saying here and I've always had trouble expressing myself, so go on and read it if you're looking for a gothic-esque novel. I read it in about three days, so it's not too hard to get through. It's a good read.

And lastly, given that you know what I read now, do you have any suggestions? I have a good $33 left to spend if I go up to EL again before my trip, so tell me something you think I should read, and I promise this time, I'll pick it up and give it an honest shot.

take it easy. don't die. don't get raped. keep reading

Sad excuse for a blogger

Wow. It's summer and I can't even write in this thing.

Whatever.

Another few days spent in East Lansing. This was just the week for 21st. There was Katie, Ainsley, Mandy, Tyler. I think that's about it, but that's quite enough; leads to a lot of drinking.So, we spent the evenings in Woody's and in Bdubs, with me taking sips and finishing off people's Buffalo Bowls (which were quite fantastical). I realized that Seven and Sevens really need to be mixed well to taste good at all. I would eventually like to try a Red-headed Slut, just because of the name alone...but then again, come to think of it, there are a lot of bombs and shots I'd like to try just because of the names. I got to try a Mai Tai. wOOt

And, of course, the drunk conversations were real worldbeaters. Friday night/morning came to an end with Sean and Ryan having a conversation of the semantics of arguing about and knowing the usefulness of religion (specifically Catholocism). Wow. I've witnessed conversations where two people talk themselves into all sorts of circles and up the butthole of God, but I have never seen it quite so bad. Things Ryan had disagreed strongly to two minute previous is now the foundation of what was supposed to prove what he was "saying in the first place." And I felt the need to interject when both of them were WAY off in terms of Catholic dogma, but then I realized that it would do more use to tell a bunch of hyenas about the nature of the Trinity than to mention it to the two of them, so I kept my mouth shut and went to sleep.

Saturday night yielded a conversation that I think I'm a little bit tired of having: the reason why I seem to be so quiet when I get drunk. le sigh
All right, now. Perhaps this conversation is had because we have run out of other things to talk about, which is entirely possible. You can only discuss the nature of squirting so many times before that gets old. Perhaps this conversation is had because people know they can get a rise out of me when we talk about it, which seems like the most likely reason. I somehow doubt that it's had because it really interests people, but if it is, please tell me why it is so interesting. I really don't think it's anything to read into.
I talk SO MUCH during the day because when there is silence in a room, I tend to start to feel awkward. However, when I'm drunk, there's a warm fuzziness and a sense of ease, so if there's a lull in the conversation, I don't feel the need to fill it up with questions and stories. Do I have barriers up when I'm drunk? Sure, but I have barriers up when I'm sober, too, and they're pretty much the same barriers - filters, I like to call them - that I "put up" because I don't feel that saying something rude, stupid, insensitive, secretive, or whatever and then blaming it on the alcohol is any way to be a responsible person.
I really don't have that much to reveal anyway, guys. I am pretty much an open book and will discuss anything with you -drunk or sober- as long as you bring it up. I'm not going to plague a party with my childhood experiences if there's no reason to do so, but if you're so damn curious, feel free to ask. I love answering questions, so ask me.
So, you tell me: what is it that you think I'm hiding from you when I'm drunk and quiet? What is it that I'm not doing that I should be doing? Because when you tell me that I do not take advantage of situations presented to me when I'm drunk and if I opened up, I'd experience more, I get real confused as to what you mean. Give me an example, please. When has an "experience" made itself open to me while I was drunk and I didn't take advantage of it? Lord, just tell me what it is you want me to say or do.

Other than that, it was a wonderful trip to East Lansing. I played Left4Dead on the 360 and made it through an entire campaign on normal, which means I learned how to use the 360 controller. Go me! ^_^ And Topher got to dry hump me while he was dancing around, so that was...fun, I guess. I got to listen to five people playing D&D, which was an experience. I am a nerd, but I have not heard nerdspeak quite like this before. It was a lot of fun. Got to see Christine's apartment and that made me super excited because soon, Emily and I shall have one just like it. Yay! All in all, the trip was quite good. I was happy to be there for Katie's 21st.

Okay, now that I've recapped and had a rant, I shall leave everyone for another few weeks while I think of something to say in my next blog post.

take it easy. don't die. don't get raped

summer drivin'

Driving home at 4am in the morning is either incredibly lonely or strange calming. Tonight, it was both.

Unified Theory by The Cobalt Season was playing as I got on the highway and I found myself missing someone with an intensity I've never felt towards him before. He wasn't there tonight, but hopefully I'll see him in the coming weeks before I ship off to London.

4am in the morning is also the only time that I'm not speeding on the highway. I'm usually weaving here and there around cars, going 80 or 85, but there's something about the dark and the late hour that keeps me at about 60. It's not fear or paranoia; night just lacks that urgent feeling for me and lets me take my time.

This is the first time I'll see 5 in the morning since leaving MSU. Go me

Oh, yes. And Sean's was very fun. I got to have dinner with Katie and Emily at Mongolian BBQ (good eatin' right there). And then just hung around the entirety of campus and Apple Tree apartments. Went on a lot of walks. Met a really interesting guy who asked me and Amanda to help him try to find what house he had originally come from. I thought he was creating this elaborate set-up to rape us. I was more concerned about Amanda, because he seemed far more interested in her than he was in me. But, turns out he wasn't lying - he really had no idea where he was going, but we found the house. But that really is a story for another night.
One good thing, though, was that he smelled really really good.

Can't blame me. It's in my nature.

^_^

Take it easy, guys. Don't get raped. Don't die

Oh, HELL yes!

Am I dialing?

Oh, yes.

Yes, I certainly am.

To Wong Foo, Thanks for everything - love, Judy Newmar

Yesterday wasn't too interesting of a day
I made it through my first left4dead campaign.
That damn truck always leaves without me, but not this time.
Yay.
My mama bought be doughnuts after church
We watched Nights in Rodanthe (still as ridiculously corny as ever - still think I could have written the screenplay better - still liked it a lot - still think Richard Gere is the next best thing since sliced bread)
Ate a ton of chinese food. I miss Rice Kitchen, though
Went on a walk with Bridget and talked about a lot. We know everything about everything. Relationships, politics, religion, psychology, the sky is the limit because we know it all!...
Her car wouldn't start. Wouldn't even turn over.
We ate Frosties to mourn the loss of Bridget's car and her mama kissed me goodnight
Drove home to sad Sarah McLachlan music
A song reminded me of someone and it made my heart hurt
Looked at my senior yearbook. Strangely, it made me feel better

Today, I got up in time to catch To Wong Foo on TV. I remember my mother showing me this movie right after I had seen Dirty Dancing for the first time. I'm not quite sure why she did it, but my guess is that she thought no 12 year old should be mooning over Patrick Swayze in such a way.
If you're not familiar with To Wong Foo, it has Wesley Snipes and Patrick Swayze playing very convincing drag queens for the entire movie. You see a naked Patrick in the first few seconds of the movie and the loins are stirred, but the minute he sits down at his vanity, you can tell something's up. Just the way he sits and looks at himself in the mirror...it piqued my interest. I wasn't quite prepared for what I saw.
To make a long story short, I loved the movie to pieces and I don't think it did what my mother had originally wanted it to do. Any man that can do that with his leg and hips earns the world's respect, and my love.

Take it easy. Don't get raped. Don't die

To killith a zombie is but the sweetest pleasure...

So, my mom was kind enough to shell out money so I could play Left 4 Dead on the computer.

The same kind of panning, walking/running, and shooting all at once is still in effect here, but it's a keyboard and mouse instead of dual controls, so I'm having an easier time adjusting. Perhaps this will help me and my brain adjust to dual controls so when I actually get to play with Sam and Stauff (though not Ben - he'd make fun of me...and probably shoot me in the head) I won't look as bad as I did before

Quite good graphics. I'm not having too many problems with the program lagging - just here and there. Once I got the stupid drivers installed, it was all systems go.

I almost made it through my first campaign, but just as I was getting on the damn truck, a tank incapacitated me and they left. Oh well. I'll have more time this summer to do stuff.

Ate my way through an entire pack of oreos and peanut butter in less than 4 days. Good job, Chrissy. le sigh

THANKS to everyone who texted, called, or IMed me last night. I was restless before, but everyone kept me up and talking until about 3am, so I was able to rest very well last night and slept in until about 11. yay!

This whole summer thing really gets to me. You know, you're going going going with finals and general college business and then...nothing. Everyone goes home - or at least you go home - and you have one friend there, but otherwise, you are left to your own devices. Don't get me wrong, a few days of kicking back, eating food, and watching movies on your own is cool. A queen-sized bed and all the room to lie around is wonderful, but after five days of the same thing...man, it really grates on me.
I hate going to sleep alone. I think ever since I went to college, I've just been so used to keeping people up at night. And if I didn't want to sleep, it was likely that someone somewhere was doing something, even if it was just Left 4 Dead in Stauff's room or taking a walk with Sam or watching Buffy/Angel with Katie and Rachel. Everything in Jackson closes at 8, for goodness sake. I'm in bed by 11 because I'm so damn bored and there's no one to talk to.

Too much on my mind with no one to talk to except Derek Fluff, the light-up bunny, and Giles, the wise, but otherwise unreal, teddy bear. Not good for my sanity. So, again, thank you to everyone who contacted me in my time of need. It'll tide me over for another few days until Katie moves back to EL and I can go bother her.

I need a hobby

I feel like I should get my old job back at the movie theatre, but I had planned on relaxing before London. I dunno, though. Money and a reason to get out of the house doesn't sound like a bad idea right about now. And then I can see Ian and Brendan more, which would be fantastical. Then again, once everyone else for MSU start getting as restless as me, they'll have more people over and there'll be more to do. I'll wait it out for another week and see.

In other news and TMI, ovaries aren't doin' too hot. I might go see a doctor before I go over to London. Wouldn't want something bad to happen, so a doctor visit would be useful here in the USA, just in case.

It's been raining all day. I find I like it more when I'm up at college and can enjoy the showers with a window open. Here it just keep me from going for a walk. grrrr

Okay, time to play some solitaire and explore more musics from Sam.

Take it easy. Don't get raped. Don't die. Be ready for the zombies...who happen to be right outside your window...


^_^

annoyance to follow

~~BONES SPOILERS~~
(not that a ton of y'all watch it, but just in case)


What the hell happened here, people? You literally had my heart breaking last week. I thought I was going to jizz myself at 7:59 tonight, waiting for that last minute to count down.

Now, let's get real- I never actually thought that Booth and Brennan were going to end up in bed together for real. Even the writers aren't that stupid, I just kind of feel insulted that they thought we would buy it.
Not that I didn't come up with every scenerio possible that would lead them to that outcome. My favorite being Brennan, completely out of character and hopelessly romantic, is there by Booth's side as he comes out of surgery and the sheer excess of emotion causes her to realize that, yes she wants to have a baby, but not just by him, but with him. He recovers while she cooks for him at his apartment. Wine, linguini, dorky flirting leads to the bedroom.

Yes. I know. Excuse the hopeless romantic. You may puke over there in my trash can.

But, the writers did what I knew they would do. Hello, drug-induced dream. So wonderful how easily that works out, huh?

This would have worked a season ago. But you cannot build up an audience's emotional attachment to a relationship and then give us this. Booth is madly in love, wants to marry Brennan, have a baby with her, blah blah blah. We get it. Now either shit or get off the pot! Or, keep building. Don't expect to satisfy with this dream-state episode, especially for a season finale.
I'm sorry if I wanted a teary Brennan. I'm sorry if I wanted Sweets to be their psychologist. I'm sorry if I wanted to see Angela and Hodgey continue to spark like they have been. I'm sorry if I wanted dinners at Booth's and pie at the diner and relationships continuing to deepen and create more problems to be solved and more drama to deal with. I'm sorry if I expected more of the writers in this episode.

And while it was fun, seeing what roles Booth's subconscious filtered the ENTIRE gang into, it was all just a tired way to get Booth and Brennan married, expecting, and into bed. Clever with the bar thing, guys. The Lab? Nice. Oh, and lo and behold, we'll have Motley Crue play as a visiting band at this bar, taking up an entire 4 minutes that could have been spent with the ACTUAL Booth and Brennan.

If we were going to drudge our way through this "creative" season finale and make excuses for Booth and Brennan to be together, we needed to see a little bit more SEX!!! Damn, it was just the beginning of the episode and a few kisses in between. Dude, if you're going to make me sit through this sad excuse for a up-until-now-fantastic season finale, you gotta have Bones up against a wall or something. SLIP HER A LITTLE TONGUE! Lord, what do I have to do to make y'all screw?

le sigh

And THEN, we get to spend two minutes with the actual Booth and Brennan and whadda know? Coming out of surgery, in a coma for four days, how is Booth doing? Healthy enough, but he's got amnesia.

Original, guys.

so proud.

ugh!

eggs, sunny-side up

10:00am: Damn, I'm hungry!

10:11am: Still really hungry. I don't think this feeling is going to go away on its own.

10:13am: Honeynut Cheerios for the 4th day in a row? I don't think so. Search for the Bisquick

10:16am: No Bisquick. Aaaaaall righty, then. Cheerios it is.

10:17am: No. You know what? You are a 20 year old female. There are women having babies now for Christ's sake. You can make an egg, dammit. Yes, you are going to make yourself an egg. What the hell, why don't you make it two eggs. Dream big, Chrissy. Dream big.

10:20am: Google the shit out of this fucker.

10:24am: Adequately googled and researched. I've got this.

10:26am: What the hell is "medium heat"?! Who do they think I am, Betty Crocker? You're talking to Miss I-Have-Problems-Boiling-Water! You're going to have to give me a little more than!

10:28am: I'm just going to leave it on 6. That looks like a good number for cooking things. I'll just let it heat up. In the meantime, TOAST! Yay toast!

10:31am: They said use butter...hmm, don't usually do that, but it said so on google so...butter it is! Throw it on in there and watch it sizzle. Ooo. Lookit sizzle *claps hands together*

10:32am: Egg-cracking time. I'm good at this!

10:33am: Fuck fuck fuck. There are shells in the pan. Fuck fuck fuck

10:34am: Okay, crisis averted. Eggs cracked. Toast done and cooling next to the butter tub. I shall have eggs, sunny-side up in no time!

*the stupidity of Chrissy begins its magic*

10:43am: How can the yolks be cooked all the way through and still be cold?

10:44am: So hungry! I'll eat the toast. I can always make more

10:45am: Fuck. Fuck my life. Fuck your life. Fuck all of this. Throw these away, throw my entire self-esteem away and let the ants eat it all. *sobs*

10:47am: I am soooo hungry! Okay, back to square one. Google.

10:49am: I think I've got it this time.

10:51am: Fuck the butter. I am Paming the shit out of this pan.

10:52am: One egg at a time, Chrissy. One egg at a time.

10:53am: Go make my sorry ass some more toast.

10:56am: Okay. The white are solid-ish and the yolk looks cooked, yet still runny. Okay. I think this one is done.

10:57am: Crack the other one on in there. Shells? Shells? No shells. *pat self on back* So far so good.

10:59am: Aw, hell. I think my stomach is eating itself. Who the fuck cares? *eats first egg while second is cooking*

11:00am: Nom nom nom *eggs sizzle* Shut the hell up! Nom nom nom

11:01am: Second one done...I think. Well, if not, Salmanella, meet my intestines!

11:03am: Nom nom nom

11:04am: Those were pretty damn good, I must say. Maybe I should make cooking a career.

No?

You don't think so?

Well, fuck off!



what?

Oh. Yes, yes. Take it easy. Don't die while you're getting raped and all that jazz, yadda yadda, leave me alone

Air Bud is the shiz

Everyone has an OCD streak in them. There are some things that people are particular about.

I only feel like I have severe OCD when I'm eating M&Ms or Skittles.

I can never pick a candy out randomly. With M&Ms, they're in pairs - they have to be. If there are some that don't match up, I eat them in a group before I touch the other ones. An then I eat the pairs. With Skittles, I have to make groups of each color so I taste the full rainbow in eat bite. It's ridiculous and stupid, but I get really anxious when I don't.

I tell you this because, at this moment, I am quite anxious. I bought a huge bag of peanut butter M&Ms for a movie yesterday and ate them randomly. I realized this this morning, as I was munching on the rest of them.

It had to have been the peanut butter that threw me off.

le sigh

I watched Marley & Me yesterday. Everytime I turn it on, I think that I'm over the ending. I'm not one to cry at movies or television shows or books. Some will get me, but those are so few and far between, it's hardly worth mentioning. But Marley & Me...I don't know what it is. Old Yeller never got me. Where the Red Fern Grows - dry eyes. Marley & Me, I bawl my eyes out. It's very cathartic, but certainly not something I'm used to. I love the movie very dearly, though, so I'll have to go buy it when I find myself some money to actually spend.

Can I just tell you how odd it is to sleep alone. I spend a good portion of the year having someone sleeping in a bed above me and I keep her awake talking until all hours of the night. And especially the last week when more than just Emily was sleeping over sometimes. I miss people being there when I go to bed.

Don't get me wrong. I mean, it's easier to *ahem* order pizza, get things done, enjoy my own Trisketts and so on and so forth, but...

I really have reached new levels of awkward. I'd backspace, but I know it'll make someone laugh, so I'm keeping it

^_^

On a closing note, I have realized that I do that way too much; I'll think of something to say, KNOW it is waaaaaaay too awkward or TMI, but...I'll say it anyway, because it'll make somebody laugh. That's what I'm shooting for. And it always does, and the looks I get are so odd.

Those are the things that make me laugh. It's a symbiotic relationship of sorts that I feel works quite well.

Okay now. I will most likely write later, if anything interesting happens. You know, if I can actually get off of my duff, scape the chip residue out of my fat rolls, and meet the real world. Doubtful.

Take it easy, everybody. Don't get raped. Don't die. Don't get voted off Dancing With the Stars like Derek and Kim!!!!!

.....

*mumbles* sorry

Virtue is its own punishment

Eeek! Haven't written in this thing for a while.

When I'm at school, I have too many people to talk to, so this blogging thing seems a moot point.

But I am home now, so I'll have more things to say. Can't promise they'll be interesting, but I'll try my best.

Upon spending a day this weekend with my dad's closest friends (more like his "family") and a day with my mother's side of the family, I've decided that I officially want to be a Luckett, and no one else.

Dad's "family"
Saturday was my godfather's daughter's graduation from law school. They had an open house for her. All of my father's friends from college and all of Al's (godfather) family was there.

Now, I knew what I was walking into before I got there and I hate this kind of thing. See, all of the people in that room are either 1) doctors 2) lawyers 3) nurses 4)government personnel and ALL of them are U of M graduates. So, here I come, a Michigan State girl - bleeding green - who majors in creative writing and will be spending her summer filming a movie in London. I have an asymmetrical haircut. I am avant garde to them and that's not good.

I told my mother before hand to NOT say anything about filming in London. I told her it would suffice to say that I was studying abroad in London on an English-oriented program. I was hoping they would assume I was studying ancient tomes of Homer or something like that - someting academic. But, no. The minute we walk into that house and someone asks a question, my mother decides it would be prudent to tell everyone that I'm majoring in film and I'll be spending an entire summer filming numerous films that will be entered into competitions.

*headdesk*

So, not only did she do what I told her not to, but she went above and beyond. She KNOWS I'm not a film major, but she wanted to make me look bigger and better than I actually am. Didn't work so much. I weathered questions about my future for the rest of the night from everyone. People I thought didn't know me were coming up and asking, "I thought your father told Al that you were planning to go into law school. What happened to that idea?" "Oh, film, huh? Very...interesting. What are you going to do after college? I hear the government is really hurting for people. Maybe you should apply to a government position."

I understand why my mother did what she did. She feels just as intimidated by these people as I do, but it just made it worse. You cannot make your MSU creative writing daughter look as academic as Al's Harvard undergrad, U of M law school, working as a litigation lawyer in the top firm in Chicago daughter. I'm badass, but I'm not her. Sorry.

Mom's family
These people love tractor pulls - they participate in them. When they do open houses, its not expensive italian lettuce or some shit, it's hotdogs, hamburgers, BBQ, and good 'ol potatoe salad. We talk about camping mishaps and riding cross-country on the back of a trailer. They work with people who own ranches, so the little kids get to ride on ponies at their own house during a birthday party.

They may not be the most hichish people in the world, but they were all raised by family who appreciate a good BBQ and a cigarette, and that makes them heaven to me.

I never once got the future question from them. They asked what I had been up to lately and then asked how many parties I had been to and I got scolded for having not gotten drunk more often. In any other situation, my mother would have rolled her eyes, but she was urging them on. Truth be told, I appreciate my mother more when she's with them. She's more herself, I feel.

Funny story from Battle Creek: My cousin got arrested. His baby's-mama-girlfriend of sorts got into a "tad bit of a scuffle" (that's how he described it) at a bar with a couple of girls. Chick fight at bar, right? Already quite hilarious. She calls my cousin, bleeding, because someone hit her in the head with a baseball bat, and tells him to come down to the bar and do something about it. So my cousin, in all of his infinite wisdom, got up out of his chair and left the house and, as he said, "forgot that my pistol was holstered to my hip."

O_o

First of all, you've got two little kids, so if your story holds up, your gun was on your hip when you were in the house. WHY in God's name are you carrying around a loaded gun in a house with two kids? Did you need it? But, if he lied and put the pistol there before he went out, again WHY? What are you gonna do with it, buddy? Wave it around a bit to frighten away the chicks from your girlfriend? That seems wise.

Anywho, he walks down the street to the fight. It's already been broken up by the cops and they're arresting ladies and charging them with assault with a weapon. My cousin has a pistol on his hip in the middle of a bar fight broken up by enough cops to fill four cop cars. You can guess what happened.

"Sir! Freeze and hold up your hands. You have got a gun on you!"

Again, my cousin's ultimate wisdom advised him to take his own gun off of himself. So, he reaches for the gun to get rid of it, and the cops freak out. They pull their guns on him and start screaming. My cousin has no choice but to get on the ground. They quite literally tackle him, get his pistol, cuff him, charge him with felonious assault, put him in the car, and take him downtown

*snicker*

Too cool. Wasn't even in the fight and he gets charged. Even more funny, though, is that his lovely girlfriend, who was fighting in the cat fight was not charged with a damn thing, because she did not use a weapon - just her hands. So, she gets off scott free. Good job, honey.

This post is way long, so I'll close it off here.

Everyone take it easy. Don't get raped. Don't die. ^_^

nuvole bianche

Playing the piano is the toughest, most rewarding, most frustrating, most cathartic thing there is out there for me. I cannot explain the exhaustion that I experience after sitting downstairs for three hours, working out a piece.

But when I finally get it - when all the notes and dynamics come together - there is such a sense of pride and accomplishment.

As of now, I am stuck in the "working-it-out" phase of playing a song - one that is quite a bit higher difficulty than I'm used to. It would be super useful if I could actually read bass clef, but I'm going to take a beginners piano class with Rachel next spring. Hopefully all will go well with that. I'm afraid it'll just be a class about posture and all that jazz, which can't hurt. Learning chord progression would be useful. Abby's got that down amazingly. She's amazing.

I love Abby a lot.


My 100 page screenplay is due in a week and half. Eeek! Hopefully all the "wonderful" pages I wrote before can cover up for the rushed, terribly horrifying end. Jeff said that, so far, I can do no wrong. Oh, how wrong he is. Oh, how so very very wrong.
It'll be okay. It's just the end of world, pun completely intended.


In other news, I have been a ridiculously good mood all week long

You could tell, couldn't you?

Abby's piano playing is so beautiful

Holy shit. Oppenheimer is over.

Lemme go all out here. It's a blog. I'm allowed.

This morning, I was discussing the play with a few people - rehearsals, headaches, tech week, opening night, Friday night, the whole kit 'n kaboodle - and I came to the conclusion that I was mighty confused (yes, I believe confusion is a legit conclusion) about how I got to feeling the way that I did.

Believe it or not, I know I'm decent at acting. I mean, I've always felt that it was something that came a little easier to me than other things did. For some reason that escapes me, though, I think I had decided a long time ago that I was going to disappoint some people with my performance and that my goal had to be to keep that number as low as possible.

But it occurred to me this morning that I wasn't going to disappoint anyone...or if I have, I'm not quite sure that that's really my fault. At this point, it would be completely beyond my power to impress the people that don't want to be impressed.

Both Friday and Saturday shows were enough to convince me that we hadn't given up, and I hope that they were enough to convince others, too.

Regardless, Saturday's applause - for me and for all of us - was enough to put a lump in my throat.

It was enough for me.

We pulled it off


In other news, I am in the process of finishing my stupid research paper. It was lovely to see my professor at the cast party, you know? She was just such a wonderful reminder of all the homework and researching that I had yet to do. Oh well. Monday will come and go and all will be well, regardless of how bad the paper goes. Time does not stop just because I have a paper to do. Tonight will be an all-nighter, but I'll sleep on Tuesday or something.

Still missing you, kiddo, but in a very different way than earlier this week. Thought it would go away, but it's not. Not too painful, though, so that's a relief.

Okay now. It is 3 in the morning and I am only on page 3, so I have five more pages to go at least.

take it easy. don't die. don't get raped. i love you very much

^_^

i loveth the summer breeze...

such wonderful smells of men and their essence, drifting on the wind and into my waiting nostrils.

i loveth the summer breeze.

Still swear it's a beautiful life

Cried this morning - just kind of fell apart. It was therapeutic and I'd rather not do it again, but I'm not sure how much control I have over that.

It was one of those time where you're crying and crying and you have absolutely no idea why. You can chalk it up to stress (which it probably is) and a lack of sleep (which it probably is) and the feeling of impending doom that comes with term papers and exams (which it probably is).

Regardless, that isn't what spontaneously comes out of your mouth when you're curled up on the floor. It's something I've said before when I've experienced a stress-related tear session, and at the end of it all, I usually try to come to the conclusion that what I said was just a way of putting a name to a face, so-to-speak. You know? A good, solid reason why. So, maybe it's just supposed to be that I need a physical reason because I feel stupid for being so emotional...but, still.

So, I'm sorry I'm blaming this on you, buddy.

I miss you so much. I'm pretty positive that you'll never really know just how much, but I do. And I'm sure you know, from your own experience, that some days are better than others. Hell, just a week ago, I thought of emailing an old friend because I missed her and I missed the fact that she was one of the few that could walk in a room and instantly make me laugh. I forget how betrayed I felt with her and how one-sided our friendship often was and how bad of friends we were to each other, but I needed her then. And I need you now.

It is a ridiculously selfish emotion and I have a tendency to overindulge in the pleasurable pain of it. I'm so good at dragging things out and out, beating them with a stick until I'm sure they're dead and gone. I am a world-class wallower. But despite that, it doesn't erase the fact that this thing - whatever the hell it is to you doesn't really matter - has some pretty deep roots.

I'd go on and on, telling you the ways that I see you and need you and so on, but that would be an entirely insincere, corny, stupid piece of work. I'm of the belief that there are just some things about a person that you can't put a name to and if you tried, it would somehow ruin that spark. So, I miss you, kiddo.

And we'll just have to leave it at that.

There's constant hope, and a logical knowing, that everything will turn out.

This, too, shall pass, as does all things.

Everyone take it easy. Don't get raped. Don't die.

remember that you're loved, right where you are, in this moment.

Half this game is 90% mental

Coming up on dress rehearsal tonight - the last one before the show

*sigh*


Picked out my classes yesterday - still need to sign up at 2:00, but it's looking like I'll get what I want. I don't know if I want to try 16 credits per semester, or if I need to, but it's nice to know that if I wanted to drop something, I could.

I'll be graduating this time next year. This terrifies me more than I could ever express in words. I don't know what I'm going to do.

I still have screenwriting pages to finish. Only five of them are due tomorrow, but I have to decide where I'm taking this stupid script. There's no end in sight as of now, and I refuse to make this a 120 pager. I also need to research for my damn paper tomorrow.

I feel as if my abdomen is trying its best to make me as uncomfortable as possible. Hey, organs! You don't need to eat your way out of my body. I know you're there, so for the love of all that is good in this world, shut the fuck up!

It really is one of those day where everything is underneath

Please, don't die. Don't get raped. I'm so apathetic right now that if you did, I'm not sure I could manage the energy to properly freak out for you.

so, take it easy, will ya?

And he loved me so naughty - made me weak at the knees

I don't know who to blame for this, but someone is to blame.

I know They are.

Why is it that Fate, the Cosmos, The-Way-Things-Be is such a bitch when it comes to dreams? You know? You're there, tossing and turning and doing everything short of crapping your pants and nothing wakes you up. No alarm. No roommate. You are alone in the terror that is a real nightmare. BUT (!!!!!) when it is all that you can do to keep yourself from jizzing everywhere from the sheer ecstasy of a wonderful dream, something always goes off. Cell phone, your damn mother's nagging voice, an early-rising roommate; hell, maybe you get a leg cramp, but regardless, you can never quite finish what you started.

All the build-up and no release.

Oh, how those words haunt me.

I mean, and sometimes it's just a matter of being curious. "Why, no. I've never role-played Cops and Robbers with [insert ridiculously attractive person] where I'm the bad, oh-so-bad robber stealing kittens or what have you and he/she is the rough and tough cop with a pair of leather handcuffs and a fuzzy beating stick...buuuuuut now that you mention it, sounds fun. Wonder where this could go?"

Yeah, well. You don't get to know where this is gonna go, do you?

No.

Your alarm clock sees fit to wake you up right before you're told to turn around and spread 'em.

But, if you're dreaming about the person you love the most, dying before your eyes and he can't recognize you...lies in a coffin and he grinds his face against the splintered wood, puss and blood everywhere, because he no longer has the capacity to understand or feel that you're holding his hand as tightly as you can. And all you can do is pray that it'll end for him soon, but as long as you're looking at him, it doesn't end. Grotesque. *sigh* It's then that you don't wake up. Simple as that. You may try to make a bargain with whatever deity is up there running this show, but He ain't listenin'. You're on your own in this one.

Such is life.


In other news:
-Screenplay is going well - Lucifer is wonderous - and Jeff seems to like it a lot. Last note I got on it was, "You are weaving such a wicked, scary narrative." Thanks, Jeff ^_^
-Piano is going slow. I'm trying to branch out and challenge myself and it sucks - not too good at the pushing myself thing. I know a few songs, but I still feel like a pretender. Perhaps a beginner's piano class would be helpful...you know, learn chord progression and all that jazz. Learn to read lead sheets. That would be helpful.
-I want a new pair of shoes. I'm tired of all my other ones
-My hands are very cold
-I want Johnny Depp's shoes, dammit! They have some at Fluvog, but $255 is way too much to spend.
-London is making me nervous. I need to come up with a screenplay. Fuck
-I really want new shoes. *le sigh*

That is all for now

Take it easy, everyone. Don't get raped. Don't die

Oh, sweet pity. Where would my love life be without it?

I don't know about you, but all the songs in my iTunes have a particular season with which I associate them. Explosions in the Sky will always be a band for gloriously breezy nights after scorching summer days; bottle of wine, star-gazing, feeling lazy. New Slang by the Shins is a driving-down-the-country-roads-towards-Clark-Lake summer song. Hoppipolla is a fall song.

I am going somewhere with this.

The iPod accompanied me to class today, as it always does. On random shuffle - of 500 songs - it decides to pick Heavy by Holly Brook. I have not heard this song in a while, and of all the days to play it, this just had to be the day.
You see, I assoicate this song with Christmas break. I listened to it ad nauseum during break. It is a winter song. It is a December song.

It is April.

It is snowing today.

I truly feel as if Christmas is just a hop, skip and a jump away.

I told you that to tell you this:

It's going to be a very disorienting day today.


Everybody take it easy. Don't get raped. Don't die