That sounds like a fine idea!

In lieu of anything more practical to do.

MEME!
Put your MP3 player (or whatever) on shuffle, and write down the first line of the first twenty songs. Post the poem that results. The first line of the twenty-first is the title.


I Was Sitting In My Stall Like Any Other Day

I'm not in love with the modern world
Cry baby cry
Here she comes, in her palanquin
Always sing your love to me sweetly
I am a chimbley, a chimbley sweep

I tried to make you happy
Can I have your autograph?
I'd like to be under the sea
I don't want to go home for Christmas this year
Oh, comely

Walking in the park just the other day baby
Here's a prayer for the body buried by the interstate
I found a reason to keep living
Now that we've met
After all these implements and texts designed by intellects

This is my face
We had this dream
I'm a modern girl
In the evening
Well you can stay all night if you want to.


I totally used cinquains! I also tried this several times, and this was the only one I liked well enough to post. That's a shame, since my first effort seemed to be about how I went to jail for my Sapphic love. Towards the end I got too many long, well-known lines in a row and that pretty much ruined it.

This was much harder than I thought it would be.

IDLING.

Ugh.

I'm not doing anything right now. This is not by any means unusual: I have plenty of times where I'm not doing anything. Right now, though, there are things that I need to get done. And I can't do them! I can't even start on them until at least tomorrow, if then. I want to do things. I need to do things. But instead of doing anything, I'm only sitting around feeling antsy and metaphorically itchy.

The universe is not cooperating with my schedule. Doesn't it know when Christmas is?

Hey, look over here!

So, I got older. I ... didn't get over it. I have wanted to blog but nothing is good enough. December is full of birthdays.

My options for topics are either You Know What, discussing how I fail in various arenas, memes, or something else entirely. I opt for meme. I had several caffeinated beverages today.

BUT WHICH MEME?

Actually, I don't even know if this counts. Let's all take a quiz!

Can You Guess Where My Accent Is From?

To psyche you out before you even begin, I scored 42. Because I'm awesome. But I won't tell you what I got wrong, because that's less awesome.

A+; would lol again!

So a dear, tolerant, and understanding friend took me to see "Quantum of Solace" today and you can't prove otherwise. My choice of cinema was one that I should really spend more time going to now that I'm more comfortable driving for more than 10 minutes at a time. It's an amazing place: a multimegagigagoogolplex that never ever has anybody in it any time I go there. I really don't know how they stay in business, but I have a suspicion that the place might come to life on weekend evenings. I mean, I hope. Anyway, when we went there it was practically deserted, giving me a good idea of what I would like to have adjoining my fabulous house once I become super-rich.

We were the only ones in the theater except for one old dude sitting up front. Your guess is as good as mine. Before they got to the feature there was a lot of static and long periods of blank screen and I wondered aloud if God was seriously going to fuck with me like this. I was kind of grateful for the sketchy old dude, because what exactly would happen if there was a showing of a movie and no one bought tickets to it? Would they still play it? Anyway, luckily Jesus interceded in the designs of His Father or something, because suddenly it was all happening.

(I'll just pause to slip in my complaint that the Harry Potter trailer was not goddamn fucking shown. All they were showing was trailers for truly hideous "comedies". ... But hey, at least they've learned to market this series properly.)

I won't even lie to you: it was exactly the kind of transcendental experience I had been hoping for. After enduring about ten months of non-stop hype, it did not disappoint, and that's all I have to say about that.

I could say that I'm a little disappointed - I didn't laugh the entire time, so I occasionally had to pay attention to the plot that the screenwriter valiantly tried to inject this mess with. She tried her best. She tried real hard. But, seriously, I think I may have bruised a kidney. Fluid may or may not have burst out of my face at some point.

The Fountain of Gold was fantastic. I'm coming down on this. Anyone is free to disagree, because I am firm in my resolve. I think the deciding factor may be whether or not the observer has read the books. Because as someone who has, his performance was, in a word, understated. The man can only work with what he's given. He can't do miracles.

Jasper and Alice continue to be too good for this shit, constipated face included.

George Lucas continues to do an ace job at ruining movies with his additions, though to be fair it's not really conscionable to lay the blame for Twilight at his feet, as much as I would love to blame George Lucas for everything. They should really just borrow my nude sparkly eyeshadow for the sequel.

In conclusion, Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere's Carlisle!!:


Sweet dreams!