And another thing.

I decided to start reading "The Stand" again. This conclusion was pretty inevitable, given the progression of things. As I've been revisiting this story, I've been reflecting on a certain aspect of it. This is something I've been thinking off and on about lately, but something that I had never thought of before.

The miniseries adaptation is pretty good as far as those things go. There's one aspect that it misses, though, something that's a lot clearer in the book. You don't really get a sense of how young these characters are. Seriously, most of the main characters are pretty young: Larry is 24. Nick is 22. Fran is 21. Harold is 16. They are so young.

Of course, when I first read the book, I was 10, and none of this made any impact on me. It wouldn't have mattered if they were 20 or 30 or 40. They were vastly older than I. It was so vague and distant and in-the-realm-of-fiction that I wouldn't have been surprised to see them do anything at all.

At Christmas this year, my sister's goddaughter (whom I will therefore call my niece), who is nine, proclaimed that I was still cool. This, she said, because, "it's not like [I'm] 27 or anything." The only response I could come up with was "Well. That is very true!" It is! It is indeed not like I'm 27 or anything. So I guess that's something.

It's just that this gives me a profoundly different perspective that I never could have imagined beforehand. I'm now reading about these characters, with less life experience than my own, going about doing these activities and having these things happen to them. They're not even as old as I am! They're so young.

And the weird thing is, there was no solid mark where I began feeling this way. There was no point at which I was able to know that I was on one side and these other people, these young people, were on the other. Actually, here's a good way of putting it. A little while ago, I was reading another book that I also, coincidentally, read for the first time in 1994: "The Vampire Lestat." Yes, I know. Shut up. (This was one of the books I replaced because it was falling apart. I'm not sure why; it wasn't that old. I had picked it up in the airport bookseller's before flying out to Mexico.) Anyway, in the book, Lestat becomes a vampire. Obviously. He is pretty immediately able to embrace the mindset that he is no longer human. He is what he is, and they have all suddenly become They. Nothing that dramatic happened for me.

Of course, Lestat was only 21 when that happened. So he was really young.

Is it St. Stephen's Day already? "'Tis," replied Aunt Helga!

I know that's not the line, but I'm rolling with it.

So, on the day before the day before Christmas (which in my reckoning is actually "the day before Christmas" - don't ask), I was watching most of Stephen King's "The Stand" on the Sci Fi Channel. Which apparently came out in 1994! So that's one mystery solved. I remember I watched it because my sister had read the book and wanted to see the miniseries, but she was going to be out and about. ... Every night. So she wanted me to tape it for her, which I did. It should have only taken four tapes, but I wound up utilizing five, because one tape malfunctioned right in the middle of Part 2, and I had to flounder around and jam in a new one. So my home-made set is missing most of Nadine's breakup message to Larry. It was weird getting to hear it again. I totally don't remember that part! At the end of the miniseries, I bound all the tapes together with masking tape, and decorated it like a box set. I gave it to my sister when she moved out, and I think she lost it.

Then I read the book: unabridged. My sister gave me her copy, which was alarmingly tattered. It was missing both the front and back cover. To this day, I don't know how the story ended, because the top right corner of the very last page is ripped off. Very disappointing! Even though I'm pretty sure I got the gist. One of these days, I will have to get a new copy of that book. I have a few books that are in various states of disrepair and lacking in a handful of pages that I am endeavoring to replace. This is both good and bad. Good because I can, you know, actually read the books if I want to without fear that they will fall apart, but bad because I ... don't like the new editions. I feel the need to explain my having the books, even if no one sees me read them. I used to have a much older version! Don't think I just got this recently! I mean! I did, but ... oh the hell with it.

Anyway, in "The Stand" there is a plague that kills 99.4% of the population. That sounds like it would be pretty much everyone, but if such a thing were to happen now, where the global human population is hovering somewhere around 7 billion, that would still leave some 42 million people milling about. For reference, this was about the size of the world's population about 5 thousand years ago, perhaps when the Greeks were beginning to get their shit together.

There's no point to this observation. Just a "... Huh." moment I felt like sharing with the internet.

This seems like a good time to bum people out.

I was mentioning to Pat, after my post about my grandfather, that I had hoped, with my next post, to write about a topic of great social and political import. (Not about the state of my automotive ownership, not unless a certain manufacturer starts producing hybrids.) Anyway, as you can probably tell already, I didn't do that, as I was occupied with other extremely important matters.

So, what would I like to talk about? Well, as I'm sure you know, for a while now there has been bad shit going on in the country of Sudan. That's right, Darfur. I'm not exactly sure what my point in posting this will be, or why I feel compelled to talk about it. The bottom line is this: The situation in Darfur fucks me up. I know I haven't mentioned this before. I haven't actually mentioned this to anyone at all. I don't do a lot of talking about things like this, even though, truth be told, I think about them frequently.

I've always been a bit fascinated with the African continent. After all, that's where the monkeys come from. But even before I was interested in monkeys, I knew that I had a greater interest than your average citizen of the Western Hemisphere. When I was in [insert year of school here, because I can't remember], I took one of three classes that took me by complete surprise, both with how much they taught me and how much they influenced me. This class was called Anthropology of Africa. (The other two were Geology And Human Evolution and Storytelling.) It was a cultural anthropology course, which may explain why I didn't have too much enthusiasm going in. (I tend to be more interested in dead people's clay pots and, of course, monkeys, than I am in ethnographies.) On the first day of class, we were immediately quizzed and challenged to write down the names of all the African countries we knew. Glancing around at my peers, it seemed that most of them were coming up with about 5-10. Maybe for some a few more. I got all but three: Seychelles, Comoros, and Lesotho. (The first two because I forgot their names, and the last because I, um, forgot it existed. Sorry Lesotho! Blame Swaziland!) Yes, I was a total teacher's pet.

But, you know, going in, all I had were names, things I had picked up from maps. A few details here and there, but that was largely it. Coming out, I was able to converse on pretty much any issue facing the whole of the continent from the time of colonization up to the present.

We didn't talk about Sudan. I'm not even sure if we knew it was happening at that time, though it was definitely happening. What we did talk about was Rwanda, and the genocide that took place there in 1994. Learning about this devastated me. Watching the news footage devastated me. Listening to the stories of the survivors devastated me. Watching President Clinton intone "Never Again" in front of the Washington D.C. Holocaust Museum as a real live genocide was being committed devastated me. Knowing that the whole thing was basically ignored, devastated me.

It also allowed me to engage in fantasies about What I Would Have Done. Now, obviously, I was around when this was going on. But I was 10. That's as acceptable excuse as any. And of course, the American media gave it hardly any coverage, and I wasn't socially aware enough to seek out information on my own. I was 10. There's that. Then there's also, as you may have gathered, the uniquely personal events that made 1994 so devastating. Seriously, I don't remember much of what happened that year. There are periods of nothingness as if I had blacked out for months. So, I give myself a pass for this time. But if that were going on now? Why, surely I would be doing something. I'm not sure what exactly, but it would be impressively noble. It would be commendable. If it were, I would be.

And of course, it is. And I'm not. I'm doing nothing. I say that I am doing nothing. I have done some things. I have given hundreds of dollars to various humanitarian efforts. I have written to my elected officials and the United Nations impassioned missives on the need to do something. I support Amnesty International, who do the most. I haven't actually left my house. I have a hard time thinking that I've done anything but sit around and blink dully. Because that's all I have done. That's all it's amounted to. I have not done anything commendable. I have not done anything that would make a difference. Most of the time, I try not to think about this. I try not to think about the fact that I'm not thinking about it.

What's worse than devastated?

Best news ever?

You decide.

HOLY CRAP.

It turns out that my eyebrows have been crooked. For at least the last several years.

I fixed them! Don't worry! They are duly symmetrical now. But holy crap.

Again with this?

Today is my grandfather's birthday. (There are many Sagittarii in my family.) He would have been 99, but he died 10 years ago. When I was little, I always used to ask him what he wanted to do for his 100th birthday. He was old, you see. He laughed and said he wasn't going to worry about it unless it seemed imminent.

So, I'm 24 now, right? Or, as my grandfather would say, I'm in my 25th year. A few weeks ago, I found some things out about my grandfather: 1. His first name. 2. He served in the army.

Let's get back to that first one. I always thought my grandfather's name was Gerard. Turns out it's Thomas. Gerard was his middle name, and when he started school, he decided he liked it better, and went by such. According to some letters I found, his friends called him Gerry. I'm mildly freaked out by this news. (Do you see? Do you see how going by your middle name screws with people? Do you see?) Of course, when I think about it, it doesn't exactly break a pattern. You see, I didn't learn that my grandfather's name was Gerard until I was about ... oh, maybe 7? You see, up until then, I thought his name was Bud.

Apparently, it's the thing in Irish families to call a young man Bud, or Buddy, or some variant thereof. My grandfather was nothing if not Irish. Unless it was a Catholic, but that's the same thing. Or a Democrat. Anyway, he was Bud to his sisters and to his mother. I have no idea when or how I picked this up as a wee thing: my grandmother never called him that, nor did his children or my sisters. Somehow, though, he was my Grandpa Bud.

I also call my sister Bud. That's a completely different story, which, surprisingly, has nothing to do with my grandfather. At least I don't think. My sister loved my grandfather to pieces, and he loved her likewise. We've determined that this may or may not have something to do with the fact that she looks exactly, eerily like his mother. We have a picture of his mother, or rather, my sister does. We've got several people convinced that it actually is my sister, and that she went down the shore and had one of those Olde Timey pictures taken. Not the case.

When my grandfather got pneumonia, my sister went to see him every day. She was the one who told him, when the holidays were over, that it was alright for him to go. She was the last one of us to see him alive. It is entirely fitting that she is now Bud.

Of course, she calls me Bud, too.

My next arbitrary milestone is at 35.

I hope I have all my shit together by then, because I don't think I have one lined up for after that.

Please take this opportunity to celebrate me. I'll wait.

Et tu, Andrew Bird?

What is the deal with music in commercials these days? It's pretty common practice for advertisers to invoke some old standard, or some song that you kinda remember but never thought about how easily it could be tailored to a message of commercialism. That's the thing, though, the music was "pre-used," let's say. Whatever the song, it had its day, however long or brief, it retired to obscurity (or not) then got to make its ignoble comeback in a 30-second spot about blenders. Or more likely cars.

I'm not writing this with the assumption that it will be a revelation to anyone. More I'm just hoping for an ... open dialogue? Something to alleviate my confusion? I don't know. Something.

More and more, I am hearing music on commercials that I've never heard before. WHAT'S MORE, it's music that I would not be averse to hearing again.

Seriously, what is the deal with this? Is it really the case that advertisement has suddenly become a venue for musical discovery? I don't even listen to the radio. If I discover new music, it's because I found it through the internet, or a tiny publication, or on a friend's recommendation, or because I saw them in person. I'm not trying to puff myself up like this is cool or anything, but ... oh, come on guys, it totally is. If this isn't cool then there's no such thing. This is the way the snobs get their music, isn't it?

Meanwhile, television commercials are the epitome of all that I, as a young, self-aware, socially-conscious, filthy pinko must despise, aren't they?

It's okay, calm down. I actually don't care at all in the way I'm pretending to. All I really care about is that I found some music that I like. Whatever I may claim from time to time, I'll listen to music if I like it. It doesn't have to meet any standard; it doesn't even have to be good. I mean, within this very year, I have listened to Debbie Gibson's Out Of The Blue, and I am completely comfortable with telling you that.

But I would be lying if I claimed that this weren't fucking with my Weltanschauung just a bit. It's ... it's freaking my establishment, people.

There are levels to this. It is multi-tiered. There's that terrible song by Vanessa Carlton with the treacly piano that's everywhere, and that's okay, I don't care about that. That song was out for a while prior, and she's in the dominion of pop anyway. Then, and this is true, I was in the waiting room at a doctor's office when I heard from the background television noise what I'm pretty sure was "Banking On A Myth." True story. I actually looked up and muttered, "Seriously?" before I could stop myself. (When I'm in public I usually try to pretend that I don't have any emotions.) Then, of course, there's my central problem: the songs that I've never heard before. The ones that make me look up and say, "Hey, this song's not bad. I have no idea what it is, but it's not bad." Are these people sell-outs? And ... don't I have to know who you are before you can sell out? I mean, really. There must be a before-career before there can be an after-career. But wait. Does that mean that I am a mass-market consumer?? HOLY SHIT!

This entry was spurred by the fact that this evening I made a playlist on my iPod entitled "Music I Heard On Commercials." I've acquired enough that I felt I needed to make a statement about it. A pitfall of many successful gimmicks, though, even though I latched onto the songs pretty well, I can't for the life of me remember what they were advertising. Although, of course, if I said "iPods," I'd probably be right at least half the time. Oh well, it's another thing I can blame Steve Jobs for, I guess.

Some samples from that list:
"Dance With Me" by The Sounds
"1234" by Feist
"Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop" by Landon Pigg (he basically sounds just like Rufus Wainwright - I don't know if that makes me like him less, or more)
"All That I Want" by The Weepies

Turns out it was not the sweet potatoes.

Nor the stuffing!

Turns out it was the virus.

Not fun! Although, in related news, hooray for my delectable feast of crackers.

This was the perfect time for my health insurance provider to let me know that my coverage is going up again this year. By 250 more dollars.

Oy.

Oy.

Why did you hate me, Thanksgiving???

It's about 3:30 now, so I've decided that I should try eating something again. It is dry cereal.

Thanksgiving did not agree with me. Do not misunderstand: the food was sublime. We cut down on the dishes this year, so we actually only had the ones that everyone likes and eats. I had so much sweet potato. It was excellent!

However, somewhere in-between the soup and the nuts*, my body realized that it really only likes cereal right now. My stomach is actually sore, as if I had done many sit-ups. It's horrible.

*the cheese and the pie

42.

Today is my sister Karen's birthday. She would have been forty-two.



This is one of my favorite pictures of her. I'm sorry I couldn't get it any clearer. Please note the shirt.

THIS JUST IN: New Jersey has plants and animals!

So, you may or may not recall (because I may or may not have mentioned) that I claimed to have taken pictures around my house this summer. I finally got around to getting them online! They include some incidental pictures of my garden. In the Garden State. I swear to you I am not making any of this up.

Also, in September I went to Colorado, so I put up some pictures of that too.

Annoyingly, I cannot sort and structure and regulate the pictures as my obsessive-compulsiveness dictates that I must. This is because my free premium account has expired. Blast! I'll have to give them money or something! I'm sorry Christine. I mean, unless someone can recommend me a good alternative.

OK! Computer!

I actually don't like Radiohead, but the title still must be used sometimes.

Folks, I have an announcement. For the first time in nearly a decade, I have a new computer. Okay, there was that time when I went to college and I had my own computer, but then I stopped using it and switched back to the ol' junk bucket. That's not important right now.

What's important is that it's so sexy I want to cry.

Vista? It's not that bad. The wom-wom window effect might eventually give me a headache, but ... dear God. SO PRETTY.

When I was setting things up, I found myself, um, unconsciously stroking the console. It's just so smooth!!

But never mind all that now!

Oh, it's my blog! So, um, I did a whole bunch of stuff last month. No time to dwell on it! Also, I had a devil of a time coming up with something to blog about that didn't take too long and make me get tired and bored and stop. So instead, let me tell you about

Fan Videos I've Never Made, Part 2.

Buffy The Vampire Slayer - The Warrior, by Scandal (or Skandal. Kirk: I'm still not sure.)
First, let me tell you that I cannot believe I forgot to mention this one last time. This is the song that first brought the idea of actually making fan videos to my mind. One, because it's for Buffy, the fandom that introduced me to fanvids. Two, guys, seriously, you have no idea. Aside from being totally perfect for Buffy in every way, the song also name-drops or overtly references at least 5 different episode titles.

Well isn't love primitive?
A wild gift that you wanna give
Break out of captivity
And follow me you stereo jungle child
Love is the kill
Your heart's still wild

Harry Potter - My Body Is A Cage, Arcade Fire
I recently got a chance to listen to Neon Bible by Arcade Fire. It was okay, but not great. The songs tended to mumble and run together, and while I almost liked several of them, it was, as I quipped to the boy, like trying to decide which was your favorite shade of blue. My favorite shade turned out to be the song above. The sound is dark, moody, and epic, and yet it's somehow also adolescent and kinda gay. Hence, Harry Potter. It would probably work better after the next two films come out, and there's more material to work with.

I'm living in an age
Whose name I don't know
Though the fear keeps me moving
Still my heart beats so slow

Lord of the Rings (Battle of the Pelennor Fields) - All Along The Watchtower, Bob Dylan
Now, don't get me wrong. I realize that "All Along The Watchtower" has been used for everything ever. However, I would use the actual Dylan version, and that makes me better than most people. Furthermore, how many of those things that feature this song have an actual watchtower, with actual princes all along it? That's what I thought, bitches.

You don't need lyrics, right?


Thanks for reading! Tune in next time.

I am made of science!

Well, sort of.

You may recall some time ago I told you about my harrowing involvement with the Genographic Project and the rage that ensued. To update you on that, a few weeks after all the kerfuffle, I received a rather unceremonious email telling me that my order was being shipped. !!!!

What the hell my friends!

Anyway, I received my kit of science! I swabbed the insides of my cheeks. I plungered the implements into little fluid-filled vials. I packed them and shipped them off. It was very AP Bio. Except for the mailing. And I didn't get to see my cells at 250X magnification afterwards.

Then ... I waited! And I waited. And I waited some more! What would my results be? What! My mother's mother's mothers have lived in the Western Hemisphere for many generations. We are generally known to be of Dutch stock, but who knows? Perhaps I am Lene Lanape! Perhaps I am Inuit.

Um. I'm not. In fact, far from it. I am a member of the super pedestrian and half-inclusive Haplogroup H! We make up half of Europe!

OMG you guys we are all probably cousins you guys OMG.

My mtDNA differs from the Cambridge Reference Sequence in only one position! I'm almost scientifically famous!

Like a dutiful nerdful member of society, I have submitted to include my data in the published study. One tiny datum, doing my part. In addition, I have been offered a chance to have the free services of Family Tree DNA the premier ... something or other, I'm not really sure. I'm going to discuss it with my mother and sister (who, sharing my genetic matter, share in my test results) and see what they would like to do before submitting my information. I mean, I'm not really that fond of most of my family. I don't know that I'd like to know any more of them.

It would be nice if the results had told me which of Haplogroup H's 32 subclades I belong to. As is, the results are a bit bland (my foremothers came from Western Europe!), and, to be honest, a bit of a let down after all the hassle.

And for ironic kicks ...

1. Go to Career Cruising, www.careercruising.com
2. Put in Username: nycareers and Password: landmark.
3. Take their “Career Matchmaker” questions.
4. Post the top twenty results.


1. Costume Designer
2. Special Effects Technician
3. Animator
4. Fashion Designer
5. Makeup Artist
6. Set Designer
7. Graphic Designer
8. Artist
9. Computer Animator
10. Medical Illustrator
11. Comedian
12. Composer
13. Website Designer
14. Industrial Designer
15. Desktop Publisher
16. Cartoonist/Comic Illustrator
17. Actor
18. Musician
19. Video Game Developer
20. Magician

I'm not quite sure if I'm surprised about any of this! Also, I just want to make sure that no one worries about my current state of disemployment. Besides it being the best thing ever, I already have things in the works.

GUESS WHO QUIT HER JOB TODAY!!

Guess who is the happiest little muffin in the whole freaking land!

That's right my friends: ME.

Of course, it's not all sunshine and lollipops. For one thing, there's the fact that I wasted the last year and a half of my life. Wasted. I lost that time. There is not a single thing that happened in that time that I wouldn't give up to have that time back, but I will never ever have it back. This is depressing.

However. I am so. freaking. happy. right. freaking. now. I would be shouting, but I must maintain decorum. Tomorrow.

Brilliant!!

Jim Broadbent is Horace Slughorn.

rest of the cast listed alphabetically:

So, remember when I was in that movie that's sort of about the Beatles but not really? Apparently it will be coming to a theater that may near you in less than a fortnight. Go see it! I hope it doesn't suck! In any case, though, it'll be nice to know what it's about, finally. I hear it has something to do with the 60s.

So, I'm an extra in this movie. And not even a glorified one a that. And, well, my career's slowed down a little since then. However, if you follow the link above, and you check out the cast list, you may notice that the rather expansive assembly are in just that same boat, playing "high school students" and "protesters" and "hippies" and what have you. For most of them, it is their only credit.

What this means, basically, is that I have every opportunity to, like my fellow props and scenery, claim involvement and grab myself an IMDb page. I have not done this. I've debated doing it, but so far I have not.

I'm not 100% clear on why this is. It may have something to do with the fact that nothing I do is ever good enough. I was in a movie! Yeah, but I was an extra. I was in another movie where I was actually in the credits! Yeah, but it was a short, and I didn't have any lines. I directed a play off-off-Broadway! Yeah, but it was in a crappy theatre. I have yet to impress myself with anything I've done. And I don't just mean professionally, I mean in pretty much all aspects of my life. There are some notable exceptions: When I was about 12, I made a lemon cake, and it looked just like a picture. It was gorgeous. I faux-painted my dining room, and I still can't get over how great it looks.

If I think of anything else, I'll let you know.

On the other hand, this may also have something to do with the fact that, no, really, I haven't done anything worth mentioning. I mean, you have these people. They've been in one legitimate film, hidden in a shady corner for two frames, and as soon as they get home from the shoot, they're zipping to the Internet Movie Database to add themselves. This is ridiculous, and I can't help but scorn these people. Let's leave aside the question of why it's a big deal to get an IMDb page in the first place. I'm not really sure. I don't want to be one of these people. Would I like to see my name on there? I sure would! But I would like to see it on there for something legitimate. Did I work on the movie? Yes. Did they pay me? Yes. SAG waived, actually! Will my name be listed anywhere in the credits? No. Does anyone have any idea who the fuck I am, and do they care? No. As such, I have no business being listed anywhere on the internet as having been in the "cast". They don't list who was working for craft services, either, you know.

Then, you know, what if I never do anything else? And, let's be honest, that has every chance of happening. Just about everything in my life has tended to end in unrepentant failure. So, what if I do this, and then nothing else ever happens to me. What if I die? How embarrassing! A lasting digital monument to my lifelong mediocrity. Excellent.

Am I making too big a deal out of this? Possibly.

No joke.

I first started to plan and script my own film version of The Hobbit when I was ten years old. If New Line Cinema can't get their act together, don't worry about it. I'll get around to it eventually.

I'm totally serious.

In related news, it seems that I have geek-reverted to LOTR.

My mother thinks she is socially progressive.

Then I get to hear gems like the one last night, where she said that AIDS research only gets the funding it does because of the gays.

And then I spend half an hour trying to locate all the pieces of my exploded brain.

That's hilarious.

First, Jason Dohring gets to be Spike on Veronica Mars, now he gets to be Spike on an actual Angel rip-off.

... I'm totally going to watch this show, guys. It has my screen-crush Sophia Myles in it, and, seriously, it's about vampires. If something's about vampires, I'm probably going to wind up watching it. I'm not saying that I'll like it, or that it will even be any good, but, honestly? I'm going to end up watching it.

I was listening to a lot of Bon Jovi last night.

So, now I'm going to do that thing where a lot of stuff has actually happened to me recently, but I'm not going to talk about it. Instead! Here are some quiz results that will amuse only Jenny, when she eventually reads this.

You Are 69% New Jersey!

You are definitely Jersey. Well done, my friend. You are most likely from this great state, and you fit right in. Odds are, you love being Jersey!

How New Jersey Are You?
Make Your Own Quiz

You Are 87% North Jersey

You are totally North Jersey! You really know the area and have Jersey pride. Chances are you just got back from being down the shore! Unless you're taking this test in wintertime in which case you just got back from Christmas shopping in Paramus. Unless it's Sunday, in which case... Hey how come I didn't see you in church today? =P

The Ultimate North Jersey Quiz
Create Your Own Quiz

You are 56% Southern Jerseyan

Just because you moved here full time doesn't make you a local. No matter how hard you try you'll never truly be Southern Jerseyan so I would not abandon those Pennsylvania, New York, or Northern Jersey roots. Cause we can tell.

South Jersey Quiz

Bwah!! Seriously, guys, I really don't care about the Major Deegan.

The Potter is dead*, long live the Potter.

*Not a Spoiler. Talkin' about the book series.

So, naturally, now that Harry Potter is finished, I've come up against a dilemma: What the hell am I supposed to talk about now? Certainly not anything that's actually happening in my life because, honestly, there's not a thing going on with me right now that would make me glad to write about it. Then I decided, you know what? I'm still going to talk about Harry Potter. Or at least ancillary cultural curios having to do with Harry Potter.

I'm going to talk about wizard rock again.

You may or may not recall my original entry on this subject. If you don't, then it obviously didn't do anything for you, so I won't make you read it again. You should read this, though; it's good. In that entry, I noted one wizard rock band (or artist or what have you), and I gave him a bit of a short shrift. This band is the Remus Lupins. My position on him/them has evolved, particularly in the last few days, so, if I may: A Review.

Now, if you're a fan of wizard rock (and I actually don't think anyone reading this is, except maybe kinda the Spish), there's one thing that it's hard to ignore sometimes: it's not really very good. Usually. There's a lot of reasons to like it, mostly, sentimentality over the subject, an admiration for a grass-roots musical approach, and the fact that, sometimes, you're a total dork and you don't care who knows it. In terms of your usual rigorous, High-Fidelity-style appraisal of music goes, however, no. It falls short. On the plus side, the last CD Harry and the Potters put out is so good you can pretty much ignore the two that came out before it. On the down side, most of these people can't really sing, they're appalling lyricists, and the production quality is low. Even when the participants are talented and clever, like my favorites The Moaning Myrtles, the quality of their best recording can put you in mind of listening to someone's high school talent show entry.

The Remus Lupins, an outfit that usually consists entirely of one fellow, Alex Carpenter, is the exception. Please watch carefully as I draw him in with one arm and backhand him with the other. (Wizard rock gets most of its support from the MySpace community, of which I am happy to say that I am not a part. This, I think, allows me to feel hardly any guilt when I'm bitchy where I feel it's due.) From his various writings and YouTube cameos, I get the impression that Mr. Carpenter is one smarmy, unctuous motherfucker. He seems to exude a big-fish-in-a-small-pond complacency that can only, by default, betray hastily concealed insecurities. This is probably borne of his growing up in LA. (Sorry.) Despite this, I really rather like him. Mostly, because his music is damn good. At least, his Harry Potter music is. I sought out some of his non-magical original compositions, and boy are they. Meandering quasi-poetic treatises set to non-commital arrangements about how he can't catch a break with girls. Yikes. But in Harry Potter, he seems to have found his muse. The samples available at various online venues were good enough that I decided I wanted to fork over more cash than was necessary to buy his two CDs. (I say more than necessary because I accidentally bought one that was shipped to my Rutgers mailbox. Oh well. I hope whoever gets it likes it, though my hopes of that are low. Fucking Rutgers.)

The first one, Spells From A Broken Wand, was basically a scam. There is a handful of really good songs, but all of them can be heard on the 'net. The best parts are in the advertisement. All the rest exist along a continuum of suck. Disappointing! Although the Hollywood shines through again in the highly attractive packaging of both CDs. Besides the fact that the front insert is a little skint, I would defy anyone to claim that the artsy photos and high-quality printing isn't as good as the quality you would find on more mass-produced albums.

It was with some ambivalence, then, that I settled in to listen to the second effort, I Was A Teenage Werewolf. I am so glad I did. Not only is there not a single song that sucks on the whole album, but every single song is good. This is doubly impressive considering that the CD offers up 19 tracks. And let's be clear, when I say "good" I don't mean "good for what it is" I mean, "real, actual, I-wouldn't-be-embarrassed-to-tell-my-friends-about-this, good music good." The greatest strength of this album and this artist is that it sounds like real music. It is real music.

It starts with the sweet and catchy throw-back called "Wizard Rock Twist." Sounds just like what it is. Well it starts in the morning when you get out of bed/And take a look in the Mirror of Erised/It's clear as day/That your true desire's/To do the twist. It ends with "The Marauders' Map" a quick closer that feels almost like a bonus track. There's really only one line, but you already know what it is, so if you're anything like me it'll be hard to stop yourself from singing along almost immediately. In between, with only a few slight missteps, there's wall-to-wall excellence. Naturally, some songs are better than others. A decent number of them are fantastic. There's not one I wouldn't want to hear again, and that's better than I can say for almost every artist I listen to who wasn't planning reunion tours by the time I was born.

A stand-out, for me, is the song "Proud." The most ambitious offering, at just under five minutes, it's the longest by far on the CD. Slow and steady, it never overstays its welcome, earning every second. It's also notable because it's something of a string-puller. Most wizard rock tends to be humorous or at least somewhat winking. It tends to be helpful, when you're penning mediocre compositions about The Boy Who Lived, to have some self-awareness of what you're doing. When the songs try for earnest and touching, which they eventually must, they wind up sounding corny. They are. It'll take all your affection for the genre to look past that. Not here, though. In another pleasant surprise, Mr. Carpenter has managed to craft a truly poignant and affecting song. It's my favorite.

If I normally recommend music to you and you like listening to good music, I recommend this album.

So I can die with a smile on my face, without feelin' like the Good Lord gipped me.

[very long, contented sigh]

You read it, right? You read it? If you didn't read it, WHY ARE YOU HERE? Go read it. Go read it or I'm not friends with you anymore.

[Begin Spoiler for Harry Potter, Book 7. The Deathly Hallows. — Highlight to view]

First, allow me to answer a question. Yes I am completely aware of how much I freaking rock!!!! I mean, I don't know why Percy was at the train station, what with having a country to run and everything. Uh. Um. Anyway!

Even though I was convinced that it would happen, I still wept like a little girl. Actually, once I got into it, I had almost entirely convinced myself that I was wrong, because of George's ear. "Oh!" I thought. "That's great! She just needs to mark one as different from the other! That totally has a comparable emotional resonance! And no one has to die!" Heh. Uh. Oops. I totally cried. I love the twins. Actually, though, I've always loved George more, for some reason. But still.

Actually, okay, you know when I first cried? Luna's eulogy to Dobby. Ach! Ach!! I started to freak out a little bit when they were in her house, because I knew right away that she wasn't really there, and I thought she was dead. I would have lost it. But she wasn't! They were too hard on her father. I mean, there's being brave, and then there's wanting your daughter to not be killed. Plus, I don't want to hear a thing against him because of the scene at the wedding when he told her that if she felt the urge to sing opera, she shouldn't suppress it. That was beautiful. Xenophilius, dudes. What the fuck.

I thought so many people were dead, but then they weren't. I had my heart in my throat anytime Neville did anything. NEVILLE. NEVILLE IS LOVE. Is Neville not love? Neville is love. Neville. Is. Love.

I was so pissed off about Lupin and Tonks, though. Lupin was, if I were to make a vague list, third behind Neville and Ron, for me. I loved him so. Yes, even after the fight thing. Because he is so totally like that. But I love him anyway. And I had so much affection for Tonks. And for a brief shining moment there, they were totally the most awesome couple ever. Also, Holy Christ! What is it with this woman and orphaning babies??

I can't believe Ron and Hermione only got one kiss. Granted, I almost gleed out of my skin when they fell asleep holding hands, but come on! When you're starving, you don't want to be thrown a bone, you want to be thrown a steak.*

* metaphorically. I don't eat cows.

Oh, then there was everything else that happened. Let me sum it up thusly: IT WAS ALL FUCKING AWESOME.

[End Spoiler]


Also, they do indeed have the PotterCast (Heee!!!!!!!!!!![/spoiler]) that I was on up now. I actually think I came out sounding pretty good. Better than it actually was at the time, really. Only, there's one thing, and I cannot stress this enough: My voice is not normally that nasal. Holy crap! Hopefully someone who's actually spoken to me can attest to this fact. Um. I hope. I mean, I am from New Jersey. But normally you can't really tell. I think it's because I've been spending so much time talking with my mother, who seriously does sound like that all the time. It's catching. Like spattergroit.

Loosen your tie, 'cause it's time to get crazy.

I don't care how much you write
I'm not going back to Privet Drive
Spend the summer at the Burrow
With my gir-uh-ul

We're going looking for trouble
We're gonna finish this
This time around
We're going looking for trouble
We're gonna finish this
Once and for all

Don't go expecting answers
I'm taking Hedwig with me
And when they're ready
Ron and Hermione

We're going looking for trouble
We're gonna finish this
Once and for all
We're going looking for trouble
(Talking about You-Know-Who)
We gotta finish this
This time around

Though before we had our reasons
This time it's personal
You can pretend that you don’t care
But you know you cried

We're going looking for trouble
We're gonna finish this
Once and for all
We're going looking for trouble
(Talking about You-Know-Who)
We gotta finish this
This time around

Do you have any leads on where the Horcruxes are?
'Cause I don't have a clue
I don't know who RAB is
Do you?
Do you?

We're going looking for trouble
We're gonna finish this
This time around
We're going looking for trouble
We gotta finish this
Once and for all
We're going looking for trouble
We gotta finish this
This time around
We're going looking for trouble
We gotta finish this
Once and for all

- Alex Carpenter, The Remus Lupins


This is totally it, guys. IT IS OUT. Which means that this is the start of my internet silence, and possible voluntary shut-in-ism, until the book is in my hands and I have read it through. The next time you see me or you talk to me? I will know everything. And so will you.

Eeeeeeeeek!

If I may, BAM!

I sent the following to the New York Times. It turns out that I can actually write well when I put my mind to it. ... about Harry Potter.
-----

To Whom It May Concern:


I am a long-time reader and, often, avid supporter of the New York Times. Not today, however. Today, I am saddened, sick, and profoundly disappointed in your publication. You see, I am also one of the millions of young people who has spent the past decade growing up with Harry Potter.

Your decision to print and run material from the unreleased final book is, in a word, wrong. There was not a shred of journalistic integrity in this decision. The only thing served by this action is a base, mean scrabbling for sensationalist material.

Furthermore, your choice has hurt millions of Harry Potter fans, many of them children, and all of them deserving of the simple decency not to have this book ruined for them. For them, today, you are the enemy. You have attempted to rob them of a moment of joy that they have been waiting for for many years. For some of them, it has been most of their lives.

To say that I expect better of the Times is an understatement. I can no longer consider the Times a model for conscientious and professional conduct. I wonder how, if at all, your newspaper can win back my respect, and the respect of the scores of readers like me.

I must say that I was pleased to see the condemnation handed out to you by JK Rowling and her Bloomsbury publishers. I hope this, and the harsh words of readers, gives you pause. I hope that you feel shame for what you have done. You cannot take this decision back. I hope that you will at least prevent The New York Times from behaving so poorly in the future.



Sincerely,

Amy Jupenstein*


*not true. I used my real name.

PotterCast!!

I just got home from the live PotterCast in the city. Okay, that's not true. I got home, chatted with my mother, and then I had to watch Doctor Who. I ... I may love Martha. But right before that, I just got home from PotterCast.

Oh dudes. I am all over that thing like brown on brown rice. Really!

First, a few basic impressions.

- Public transportation was, of course, delayed for reasons that were hard to figure out. I had meant to get there early, but didn't get there until after 6:30, so I wound up standing in the back. I got to chat with some nice people back there, though.

- About thirty seconds after I settled into my place, Melissa Anelli came walking right by me. I managed to sputter that it was nice to meet her (totally stupid - we didn't actually meet!) and she responded in kind and quickly shuffled off. She was very busy with ... things. It was adorable. Her mother was there, too.

- John looks a lot more Italian in real life. I mean, he's said that he is, but from the few pictures that I'd seen, I didn't think so. He seemed too dark. Like he was really Philipino or something and just trying to fake everyone out. Up close, he looks much more Italian. He's just a lot darker than I am.

- I took a bunch of behind-the-scenes photos, which you can find here. They're all really boring, even if you like PotterCast. Just the hosts in various unflattering candids. Good times!

- Melissa's boobs are as big as mine used to be. And she's about as short as I am. Aww.

- The proceedings may have been taped by CBS News. I'm not sure. In any event, it probably would have aired while I was watching much more important television (Who).


Now the parts with me!! Here's a sneak preview of PotterCast #Whatever.

- As promised, I cheered really loudly at the "Is Harry A Horcrux?" question. The three of them on stage all turned to look at me. It was awesome and awkward, just as I'd planned.

- During discussion of the film, I butted in to note the following:

[Begin Spoiler for OOTP Movie — Highlight to view]

In the scene in the Ministry, when Voldemort knocks Harry's wand away from him, is he using wandless magic? I say he is.

[End Spoiler]


- I got up at the end for theories! They asked people to start lining up, and a billion people ran for it. There were a good deal of people ahead of me. Even though I started out immediately, I went up the center aisle, instead of around the side. The queue was even on the side where I had been standing. D'oh! But it worked out, because I was the penultimate speaker. I first offered to share my reasons why I think Harry is a Horcrux. But ... didn't. Obviously. Really wrong audience. Instead, I offered the world premiere of two new theories of mine:

1. Nagini is not a Horcrux. I know! This kind of, actually, would dissolve a lot of my argument for why Harry is a Horcrux. Although, I think the most important part of this plot line was finding out that you can make a Horcrux of a living thing. That's still relevant. Plus all the stuff about the scar. But! Nagini's not a Horcrux. I'd be willing to bet. It just seems ... largely speculative on Dumbledore's part. I think this was his most tentative theory, and something about it just doesn't add up. For one, Dumbledore says that Voldemort has never trusted anyone. Then he backtracks and says maybe he kind of trusts the snake. Also, Dumbledore has to be wrong about at least one of the Horcruxes. He can't be right all the time. He even says so. Repeatedly. So, there's got to be something to that.

2. Somewhere in Book 7, probably in the epilogue, Percy Weasley will become Minister for Magic. I should point out that this theory was completely vetoed by the whole crowd. Shot down. But! It was a very emotionally-based reaction. Let me explain why I think this would be good. First of all, Percy didn't really do anything that wrong. Put aside for a moment that everybody loves the Weasleys. All Percy did was have a fight with his family. Lots of people do that. It doesn't make him a Death Eater, for Pete's sake. And yes, Percy's sycophantic and arrogant, but that's just because he has some growing up to do. He's been taking an extended adolescence, but I don't think it will last forever. Secondly, I think this could work out to be a very bittersweet ending for Percy. Percy is Ministry. If he's on any sort of team at all, it's the Ministry's. He's with them. That's where he belongs. I also don't think that he will ever entirely make up with his family or our band of heroes. He's never going to "join" them again. However, I've been saying all along that Percy has to have some sort of low-level redemption happen. I think this could be just the right avenue. Percy's administration might heal the rift that we see between our heroes and the wizarding government. It will still never be a close and friendly relationship, but I think it would be better. Ties up Percy and ties up the Ministry. Both will get their acts together in the end, though they will always remain somewhat separate.

Isn't that a nice theory? Don't you think they should have listened to me?


Afterwards, I tried to patronize the Borders, but they didn't have the Ted Leo album that I wanted. However, I did manage to pick up more tea at the bus station. Woo, tea!

So what I'm saying is, you should listen to PotterCast this week! Even if you don't usually, and even if you don't listen to podcasts in general or anything about Harry Potter. Because it's a chance to hear how stupid my voice sounds in recording!

LIVID.

This is what I was earlier this morning. I had to write a few emails, so I'm better now. But, oh, man. LIVID.

Some of you may remember (but probably not) that a while ago I mentioned National Geographic's Genographic Project. I'm not linking to it because I hate them. Well, I hate someone, anyway. I'm not really sure who.

Here's what it is. National Geographic is sponsoring a scientific project to map human migration based on Y-chromosome DNA and mitochondrial DNA. Pretty sweet! A swab of your cheek cells will allow you to trace your ancestors back to the bowels of time. Kind of.

It still sounds awesome, and I would still recommend that you get involved with it.

Here's where the problems ensued. As most of you know, I don't have a credit card. Because damn The Man. The kit costs in excess of 100 dollars, and I purchased it online using a prepaid card.

A few weeks later I received an email stating that the "credit card number" I used could not be processed, and to call the customer service number. I did so immediately. What I learned is that, because the card is not associated with a billing address, their system can't process it. Super. Anyway. I told them that I would be sending in an alternate method of payment and not to cancel the order.

The very next day (June 15th) I mailed in a money order for the full amount. I don't have a checking account either. You know what? Stop judging me.

I heard nothing until two weeks later, when I received an email saying exactly the same thing the first email said. The credit card number cannot be processed, please call customer service for assistance. I call customer service again, and speak to two different people and tell the whole story. I tell them that I have already sent in a payment, and please don't cancel my order. Both (like the first one) assured me that they would make notes on the order and that it would not be canceled.

Last night, I received another email. It was sent at 8:45PM EDT. It said that the credit card number could not be processed and as they had contacted me several times about this issue I had to respond that day or else they would assume that I wanted my order canceled. I called them again. Spoke with a fourth person. Explained the whole thing from the beginning. Had this fourth person assure me that my order would not be canceled.

Also, on a whim, I sent a strongly worded reply to the email I received, saying how profoundly disappointed I was with the appallingly unprofessional manner in which this situation had been handled. Seriously, in that email? There were no less than three misspellings, so that when I called customer service, I checked with them to make sure it wasn't spam. In any event, it didn't bounce back, so someone received it. I'm sure it will accomplish nothing, though.

Today. I'm at work. I get an email. They canceled my fucking order. Because the credit card number could not be processed. Cue my head exploding.

I called again, immediately. Spent God knows how long on hold at various times. The problem as it stands now is, of course, they don't have the money order. Even though I sent it exactly as instructed by the very first person I spoke to one month ago. What I get from the chick I'm talking to is that they have not received the money order. They recently moved locations, and maybe it's lost in the shuffle somewhere. Basically, "Waffle, waffle, bullshit." And "she" says that they can only keep the order on hold for so long. "Who is 'she'?" I ask. The girl's supervisor. Can I speak with this supervisor? No, of course not, because the girl is not allowed to transfer calls to the supervisor. I can leave my number, though! Which I did, for the third time. Who wants to wager that I never get a fucking call?

So, as of now, I am out $100+ that these people have lost (I sent it over a month ago - what the fuck, please?), I have no order, and not one of these people knows what the fuck they are doing. At present, I don't know how I can complain more loudly or more vehemently than I have done, but I will find out how and I will do it. Because Jesus Fucking Christ.

On the other hand, I'm totally going into town to chat about Harry Potter later. And I'm getting another new tree for the front of my house, courtesy of the twip.

I suppose there's probably a point at which one ODs on being a geek.

I took the day off to go and watch Harry Potter. That's almost like quitting! Oh man, I wish. Briefly: it was awesome. It was so awesome. I'd like to go see it again.

When we got to the theater, slight panic happened because of what we found there: schoolbuses. Dozens and dozens of schoolbuses. It was chilling. But! It seems that all the camps and organizations and what have you caught the earliest showings. (We got there early to secure tickets for the 1 o'clock.) By the time we were standing in line, we were amongst a largely adult crowd. And I didn't have to sit next to anyone large or noisy. And I only had to deal with a minimum of stupidity*. I usually don't like it when movie theaters are too crowded. But this was nice. At the end, nearly everyone applauded, and it's awesome when that happens.

On Friday, I'm totally going to the PotterCast that's being done in the city. When they ask the crowd if Harry's a Horcrux, I'm going to cheer really loudly. It'll be awesome. Or embarrassing. Probably both. I'm so excited!

Review.

[Begin Spoiler for Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix — Highlight to view]

Before I went to see the movie, I had read a few newspaper reviews. I stopped, because they were somewhat upsetting. There seemed to be a pretty even split between reviewers who thought that this was the best one yet, and reviewers who thought they dropped the ball. After watching it, I can understand both.

I'll try like heck to assess the movie as its own element, and not as a translation of the book. A little of it will sneak in, I'm sure. I'm pretty impressed that, like the filmmakers have been saying, OotP really does pare down into a pretty streamlined story. It totally does! But it turns out that, apparently ... the streamlined story is kind of boring? OotP is my favorite of the series (so far, anyway). I know that a lot of fans say it's their least favorite. I had been a little shocked to hear some people say that they don't like it because, despite being the longest book by far, it's light on plot. After seeing it in movie form ... that's totally true! Nothing really happens in the whole movie!

Except, I mean, Sirius dies. Oh man. Gary Oldman. Gary Oldman is truly a master craftsman of acting. Actually, all the acting in the movie was outstanding. I first decided this when I was surreptitiously watching clips from the film on mute while I was languishing in my office. I know, I know. But you read my entry title, didn't you? It was amazing: it looked like normal people just talking to each other. I know that sounds like ridiculous praise, but it's actually very very high praise.

David Yates might be a genius. The direction in this movie truly is wonderful. Aside from the work with the actors, there was also lots of adventurous camera work going on. Shots from upside down, things like that. It was awesome. I wish, though, that he could have directed the film in another 15 years or so. While he's obviously very talented, he's also obviously brand new. If he had had time to perfect his skill, this may have been the best movie ever.

Anyway, back to Gary Oldman and how great he is. Oh! Also, Alan Rickman. Seriously. The Occlumency scenes were incredible. I'm trying not to use the word "boss" because then my boyfriend will despair for me. But, no, really, they were. They were so boss.

Except what the hell! Snape's Worst Memory was so short! We didn't even get to see Harry's mother at all! There's so much from the previews and everything else that didn't make it into the final product. And I really, really wish they had. Here's my bottom line on the movie: what they did, they did damn near to perfection. But I could have used more. It really, really could have used more. I don't mean this as a fan. Although, that too. I want Ron to be Head Boy and Quidditch captain. I wanted to see Umbridge inspect McGonagall. But I can do without that. What I mean is, I really think they would have been benefited to expand what they had.

Everything went by so quickly! There was no time to savor any of the scenes. Savor, there you go. The metaphor I came up with on the drive home was, it's like ordering the world's most outrageous, most delicious food, and then wolfing it down. And this is why I loved the book, even though, apparently, nothing goes on in it. I've said all along that JK Rowling is a superb storyteller. Storytelling is a craft. Sort of like glass-blowing. Beautiful in the finished project, but a solid, hands-on craft. The story that JK Rowling is telling, pared-down, bare-bones, is not very interesting. It's good versus evil. Earnest orphan fights the powers of darkness and is saved by love and friendship. Obviously! Boring.

It's how she does it. It's in all the details. It's in the way that things unfold, and how they're revealed. I'm not saying that OotP wouldn't have benefited from some sterner editing (one word: "coolly"), but the details are what makes it Harry Potter. This is where the movie fails. It needs those details. It has a lot. I will credit the new screenwriter by saying that he certainly seems to cherish the world more than the other guy ever did. I love when that happens in adaptations - the things in the background. The things that have whole paragraphs devoted to them, and only you know, because you're in on it, and your neighbor isn't. But they only had them where they could throw them in as the story was barreling forward. We need to settle into the world, because that's when we love it. If they could have added 10 seconds to every scene, I don't think it would have been badly used.

Having said that. Holy shit did you see the Occlumency scenes? DID YOU SEE DUMBLEDORE TOTALLY OWN EVERYTHING? "It was foolish of you to come here tonight, Tom." Fucking A, Dumbledore!! Did I mention how great Gary Oldman was? Alan Rickman? How about Imelda Staunton? Evanna Lynch? Helena Bonham Carter? Hell, Warwick Davis? The twins?

I want to go see it again.

[End Spoiler]



Ten more days. Must not freak out.



*Okay, so, we got into the theater almost 40 minutes early. It was necessary, else we probably would not have gotten a seat. Or, okay, we would have, but not one we could comfortably see the screen from. So, I was there to see the filler that they run before the commercials that come before the previews that they show before the trailers. (Trailers for 5 different Potter ripoffs and The Bourne Ultimatum. Oh, and Get Smart! Which I haven't decided how I feel about yet.) The upshot is, I got to learn ten times that before Jeremy Irons was a star, he used to work as a social worker in London. On one of these go-rounds, one of the trio of vapid girls in front of me remarked, "Who's Jeremy Irons?" in a slightly offended voice. Don't worry. She knows who Robert De Niro is, though. I probably would have been more angry if I hadn't been too busy thinking "Jeremy's Iron" to myself and giggling more than is seemly about it. I was really excited to be there.

Aw, man.

Television Without Pity has put Doctor Who on permanent hiatus. Wherefore?

Was there a lack of (US) interest? I can't see how. My newspaper's run at least two articles on the Series* 3, and that's pretty impressive for a British import that airs on cable. Was Jacob too busy and they couldn't find anyone suitably crazy to fill his shoes? I was really looking forward to him waxing batshit about Martha and all else.

I'm very disappointed! Reading TWoP recaps is half the reason I watch TV.

Remember when my foot was gross?

I do.

What I forgot was that apparently I had taken a whole bunch of pictures of it and put them on my Yahoo! photo account. Well, apparently Yahoo! photos is going to close, so I've been afforded the opportunity to import the pictures to Flickr. Which I totally just did.

So, now I will have a couple pictures of a pretty scarf, and a handful of pictures of my grisly maimed foot. Yay?

The point of this is, I need to upload more pictures to that account. I've been taking lots of the nature and crap that's around my house. I have a picture of the praying mantis and the painted lady butterfly that live in my garden, plus the Eastern Goldfinches that reside in my lilac tree (sadly, not a red oak tree). Also, one time about a year ago, there were totally awesome rainbows all over the place, and I took pictures of that too.

They are very pretty. I am very lazy not to have done anything with them. A few months ago I actually got the pictures developed from when I visited California. The first time. That was 2004, y'all.

One of those meme things.

I saw this one a while ago, and I decided that I would post it, because I liked the question and my answers. When I tried to go and find it, I discovered that that was back in January. Oops! It's a lot longer than I remember it being. Sorry. I know I'm not that interesting.



1. Is your second toe longer than your first? No. It's ever-so-slightly shorter if I pull it out straight, and shorter still if I don't. I have a small degree of hammertoe to my second toes.

2. Do you have a favorite type of pen? From time to time. I tend to prefer black ink, fine point pens. But in terms of specific models, they go in and out of fashion.

3. Look at your planner for March 14, what are you doing? It would be patently ridiculous to plan anything that far ahead.

4. What color are your toenails usually? Not as clear a pink as my fingernails, but I guess that's because the nail is thicker. I don't paint my nails.

5. What was the last thing you highlighted? With a highlighter? Probably something at work. I last attempted to highlight my hair a week ago. Not really. Sort of.

6. What color are your bedroom curtains? I don't have bedroom curtains! Isn't that terrible? I'm working on it, mother.

7. What color are the seats in your car? Gray. And dirty in spots. Which I try not to think about too much, as it's the dirt of Nerwen's former girlfriend. Ew.

8. Have you ever had a black and white cat? Not at the same time, but I have had one cat that was all black, and one cat that is all white.

9. What is the last thing you put a stamp on? Harper's birthday card. Actually, I used two. Happy birthday, Harper!

10. Do you know anyone who lives in Wyoming? When I was little, it was my intention to make up short stories about the false etymologies of all 50 US states. I only managed Arkansas and Wyoming. So, in my imagination, Oming used to live in Wyoming. He's dead now, though. I don't know anyone who lives there anymore.

11. Why did you withdraw cash from the ATM the last time? Because I needed money.

12. Who is the last baby that you held? In my whole life, I have never held a baby. True story!

13. Do you know of any twins with rhyming names? I can remember knowing 5 pairs of twins. Of those, only one have names that start with the same letter. But then, so did their other siblings. None of them rhymed.

14. Do you like Cinnamon toothpaste? Not that I've ever had it, but I can only imagine that the answer is no.

15. What kind of car were you driving 2 years ago? I wasn't driving a car two years ago; I had a crippling phobia of driving.

16. Pick one: Miami Hurricanes or Florida Gators: ... What's the difference?

17. Last time you went to Six Flags: Probably several years ago. I would have gone with my cousins, and I don't really talk to them anymore.

18. Do you have any wallpaper in your house? My house is a Wallpaper Free Zone. We worked hard to get it that way. Yay!

19. Closest thing to you that is yellow: A stuffed duck, courtesy of Aflac. His beak and feet, anyway.

20. Last person to give you a business card? The receptionist at my urologist's office.

21. Who is the last person you wrote a check to? I have never, in my life, written a check. I last purchased a money order for the purpose of giving it to LabCorp.

22. Closest framed picture to you? It's a picture of my sister Karen, in the middle of the memorial plaque that we got from Bon Jovi. There used to be a personal note about her in the middle, but when we got it back from her former husband, it had mysteriously disappeared. SERIOUSLY.

23. Last time you had someone cook for you? I guess that would be the last time that I told my mother I would make pasta, and then I loitered at the computer long enough that she just started making it herself. Heh.

24. Have you ever applied for welfare? Nope. Fingers crossed!

25. How many emails do you have? I can only assume this means addresses. I have 3 that currently work.

26. Last time you received flowers? Huh. I buy flowers a lot more frequently than I receive them. Shit. When I graduated?

27. Do you think the sanctity of marriage is meant for only a man and a woman? Without getting into it: No.

28. What kind of milk do you drink? I drink Lactaid Skim Milk with added calcium. It's great! No nothin' in it! But it still tastes like milk, don't give me that lip.

29. Do you play air guitar? I never air guitar. I always air drum. Which is weird, since I have absolutely no desire to play the drums.

30. Do you take anything in your coffee? I don't take coffee, period.

31. Do you have any Willow Tree figurines? Yes I do! I had to check first. I have a hanging ornament about friendship that was given to me by an eight-year-old. Aww.

32. Have you ever owned a Beanie Baby? I own several Beanie Babies. A few I got back when they were real super popular, just because they were real super popular, and one I have a a present from a show I did.

33. Last person you spoke to from high school: Probably Lynda. I can't remember talking to anyone else.

34. Last time you used hand sanitizer: A long time. I hate that crap. It just makes the dirt on your hands crumblier.

35. Would you like to learn to play the drums? Heh! No!

36. What color are the blinds in your living room? They are wood-colored, because they are made of wood.

37. What is in your inbox at work? Some spam, some notices from companies that I don't pay attention to, and a bunch of residual stuff that my boss made me deal with for him.

38. Last thing you read in the newspaper: Harry Potter fanart made by local school children.

39. What was the last pageant you attended? ... I don't think I've ever been to a pageant!

40. Where is the last place you bought pizza from? Some local joint. I don't eat it, though.

41. Have you ever worn a crown? I totally have! I wore a crown for my first communion, when I dressed up as a princess for Halloween, and several times at ballet recitals.

42. What is the last thing you stapled? A homeowner's policy.

43. Did you ever drink Clear Pepsi? There is not enough "no."

44. Are you ticklish? Yes. Also, I can tickle myself. So whoever said that you can't? Is wrong.

45. Last time you saw fireworks: About 15 minutes ago. They're starting to get antsy around here.

46. Last time you had a Krispy Kreme doughnut: Last year, maybe? I know I was in Virginia.

47. Who is the last person that left you a message and you actually returned their call? My father, I think. My sister left me a message after he did, but she called me again before I had a chance to call her back.

48. Last time you parked under a carport: I wonder if my garage counts, since I can't close the door once I pull in there.

49. Do you have a black dog? No. My cousins have had two. Ruined them both.

50. Do you have any pickles in your fridge? I am not in favor of pickles.

51. Are you an aunt or uncle? Kind of.

52. Who has the prettiest eyes that you know of? My eyes are rather attractive! The boy has the prettiest color eyes.

53. Last time you saw a semi truck: This morning. It made me miss the light.

54. Do you remember Ugly Kid Joe? I do. They were one of the last "new" bands that my sister had gotten into. ("I don't like a thing about your sister/'Cause I think sex is overrated too" - heh!)

55. Do you have a little black dress? Well, I have a dress that's black. It's more of a dumpy mourning frock, though.

Jupe Has Achieved.

WOMBAT Grade 1        O

WOMBAT Grade 2        E

WOMBAT Grade 3        O

Oh man. I'm so awesome. I will coach you in awesome if you wish to be awesome the way that I am. ... At Harry Potter.

But, yes, I am terribly disappointed at that middle grade.

Um. It wasn't really the zombie apocalypse.

Good thing, too, because I didn't have any gas in my car that day. Isn't that always the way? You think, "Oh, I'll be fine for a few days. I can get gas tomorrow." Well, what if tomorrow is the zombie apocalypse? You see what I mean.

I could have sworn I was here to actually make an entry about something. Oops! I am listening to the Decemberists. As one does. I recently learned that Colin Meloy wrote "Red Right Ankle" for his girlfriend, which means that I can't entertain thoughts of marrying him anymore. That's just so sweet.

Oh, also, because I have a significant other already. Did you know that? I realized after the last entry that I never write about him. But I totally still have one! About that, actually, my boyfriend kind of looks like a blonder Colin Meloy. Sort of. I like him much more, though. One of the reasons that I don't ever talk about my relationship is, seriously, you people are mushy and gross and boring and boring when you do that, and I honestly don't trust myself to be any better. I mean, sometimes! Not all the time. I mean it in a good way. Other reasons include "I hate being candid" and "It's none of your business."

One of my workmates pointed out that I have gray hair today. Seriously. About both the fact that I have gray hair and that he pointed it out. He's a dick. I have no idea why I haven't quit yet. I'm not even sure I like money this much, to be honest.

HOLY CRAP, what is this entry about? If I may, I would like to blame the whole thing on the fact that I have been very very tired for the past week or so. I take long naps and then sleep through the night anyway. And wake up sleepy. It hasn't even been that hot. I really hope I'm not developing some crazy illness. I have quite enough of those.

20 days until Order of the Phoenix! I'm much more excited for this than I was for any other movie, first because OotP is my favorite book in the series, and secondly because I've been following the production updates since they were casting. That's over a year and a half! And then there's the book, which I am so disproportionally excited about I can't even get into it right now. I've been feeling the urge lately to get depressed and read Anne Rice books. I can't though! There's no time! POTTER!

It's the end of the world as I blog it.

I guess they're not just a metaphor for communism anymore, are they, society?

No.

There are none outside. I'm actually surprised. In New Jersey, most densely populated state in America (it still is, I guess?), so far there are none. Which is why I think it's okay to make a fucking blog entry, apparently. There's nothing at all outside.

Honey, if you're reading this ... well. I suppose it would probably be too much to ask for you to come and get me. It would be rather horrible if you made it all the way up here only to have me eat your face. Romantic? Possibly? But in all practicality it's probably not a good idea. I won't be here anyway. I do wish I had a gun, though, so, you were right. Fucking zombies! Speaking of which, though, YOU HAD BETTER FUCKING LIVE. Seriously, I will find a way to get back at you if you don't. Even if there is no afterlife I will still fucking manage it somehow. I love you. ... We probably should have had more sex.

If anyone else is reading this, I just want you to know that you were one of the ones I didn't hate. Even if I may have, at some time, said otherwise. I didn't, really.

Of course I guess it's possible that the only ones reading this are the marine mammals. After they've grown thumbs and found our artifacts and unlocked our technology. Obviously. Many thousands of years in the future. I hope it's the orcas, and not the dolphins. They were on our side. Well, to you I say, humanity definitely went out like a bitch. But when you tell our story on whatever your version of television is, be sympathetic. And get someone attractive to play me. For the orca-interest aspect.

Or I guess it's possible that no one will read this. Probable.

I have to go.

I don't know what to do about the cats. Neither of them will make it.


Oh. Here they come.

Let me tell you about my fan videos.

Before we begin, I should note that I've never made a fan video in my life.

However, it seems that, alongside all the ideas for stories and songs and figurines, I now have a healthy amount of ideas for fan videos.

I don't know that much about fan videos. I was first introduced to the concept through Jewels from the WD. At one of the first WD parties I went to she pulled out of a tape of vids she had made. The gist is, you take a song, and make a sort-of music video for it using scenes from a given fandom. Or what have you. You can use it to illustrate a story in the canon, or fabricate your own based on the fact that Spike and Willow were clearly meant to be. Ahem. You know.

I don't know anything about the conventions of making fanvids or the community of fanvidders, and even less about how I would go about creating one myself. I imagine it would have something to do with torrents, and, most likely, getting a new computer. My computer barely loaded this page, honestly. I don't know anyone that I can really ask about it, either. Yet, every time I listen to certain songs, I can't help but mentally put certain scenes to it. It's not fair! I like those songs by themselves!

I've idly wondered if I could just commission someone who does this sort of thing to make them for me. Heaven knows I'm probably never going to get around to it. After knitting and making jam and reading Harry Potter for the fiftieth time, I don't imagine I'll have enough drive. Or boredom.

So, here's a list of all the fan videos I never made.

Lord of the Rings - Kashmir, by Led Zeppelin
If you can't figure out how to set LoTR to Led Zeppelin, then you're just not trying. The idea itself makes me giggle. It's a long-ass song, but there's also material from three long-ass movies. I'm not sure what the actual content would be like, but, you know, elves and Ents, that sort of thing.

To sit with elders of the gentle race
This world has seldom seen
Who talk of days for which they sit and wait


Lord of The Rings - Wayfaring Stranger, by Neko Case
The same thing, really, only this one would be a little more slowed down and moody. Shots of everyone clambering on rocks, Sam crying, stuff like that. The plunky pseudo-Celtic music is what sells it.

I am a poor wayfaring stranger
A'traveling through this word below
But there's no sickness toil or danger
In that bright land to which I go


Lost - John Saw That Number, by Neko Case
It would be completely brilliantly hilariously full of Locke and religious symbolism. Plus, John did see that number! All over the island! This is probably the one I think about the most, because I guess I think it's the most feasible. And since the end of the current season, there would be a lot more material to scavenge. I was so excited when Locke called someone a Pharisee in an episode. Between that and the Jupe-cast, I'm having paranoid suspicions that the show's creators are listening in on my thoughts. I would have said Desmond, but.

John saw that number
Way in the middle of the air
Crying 'Holy! Holy to the Lord!'


Star Wars - Angel, Won't You Call Me?, by the Decemberists
This one would be all about Anakin and Padmé. I KNOW! I know. It's so embarrassingly bad. But at least I would be guaranteed to tell the story better than George Lucas. DON'T JUDGE ME.

Though I am a lost cause
Angel won't you call me?


Battlestar Galactica - Reasons To Fall, by Lauren Hoffman
This one just happened, and is the reason I made this post in the first place. It would be about Kara. And ... anybody, really. Maybe Lee. But mostly Kara.

No, you're gonna wait 'til the moment is certain
While I've been out searching for reasons to fall


That's it! I was pretty sure I had at least one more, but I can't think of it. It might have been another iteration of LoTR + Zeppelin, though, so maybe we're better off.

Why I Blog.

Some time ago, the lovely and many-talented Jess tagged me to do this thing. The challenge, should I choose to accept it, is to explain five reason Why I Blog.

Um. I blog?

Hee! Seriously, though, it would be far easier for me to come up with a list of reasons that I don't blog. Surely I do that more than I do. But here goes.

1.These thoughts go here. My brain is running constantly. There are things that I think about that will never reach anyone else. This depends on many things, but mainly, my mood and the timing. I'm perfectly fine to let most things slip by. However, sometimes, I wanted my thoughts to reach other people. I try to put them where I feel they will be most appropriate, although, to be honest, I have very little understanding of why I make the choices I do. Message board? Email? Phone call? Paper? Blog? Everything that gets put here fits here. Or, at least, I felt like it did at the time.

2. I need a place to talk about television shows and Harry Potter. I refuse to join any more message boards. They hurt. My blog is a more than acceptable substitute. At least I know I like all the respondents.

3. You people are funny. This seems like it should be a reason for me to read blogs rather than why I keep one. But it's true. You people are funny. And by posting to my blog, I can, to some extent, control what subjects you're talking about, and take some hand in crafting the amusement I'll be receiving from you. ... Don't feel used.

4. I don't keep a diary. I've never kept a diary. The best I have is a journal that I've had since I was ten. I make a new entry about once a year, or whenever I'm feeling like something profound is going on in my life. The internet makes it much easier for me to chronicle what my days are like: I don't even have to think about it.

5. Sometimes people ask me to. For some reason, every so often, one of the five of you reading right now will let me know that you think I should make a blog entry. I guess you like hearing me dribble on like this!


Here are five people that I'd like to see answer this, if that's their thing:
1. Lauren
2. Jenny
3. Kirk
4. Pat-n-Steph
5. Del (Hee! A cheat! But Del, I absolutely would have tagged you if I'd done this before you did.)

Ladies and gentlemen, refresh your browsers.

Or, put more aptly: Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!

I'm so very happy and excited! Look at my blog! LOOK AT IT! I am delighted. I cannot even coherently express how happy I am with my shiny new blog. At best, I can write random, exultant words, like so: YAY! EXCITMENT! HEE! AWESOMTASTIC! BLOG!

See?

However, before you say anything, I would like to tell you that this is all thanks to tiniest young Lauren, who is the best thing ever. For some time now, she has been toiling away trying to adjust my template to match my ridiculous expectations. She would run in, crying and sweating, and fretting, "I'm sorry this is taking so long!" and I, reclining on a couch, watching television and scarfing down popcorn would reply, "It's cool!"

... That was hyperbole. What I mean is that Lauren did everything. Also that I love her and she is terrific.

BLOG!

Eeeeeeeeeee!!!

You're Anne of Green Gables!

by L.M. Montgomery

Bright, chipper, vivid, but with the emotional fortitude of cottage
cheese, you make quite an impression on everyone you meet. You're impulsive, rash,
honest, and probably don't have a great relationship with your parents. People hurt
your feelings constantly, but your brazen honestly doesn't exactly treat others with
kid gloves. Ultimately, though, you win the hearts and minds of everyone that matters.
You spell your name with an E and you want everyone to know about it.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

Oh, hey!!

That movie I was in comes out this September!


I'm totally in the trailer. You didn't see me because you weren't looking hard enough.

I've actually intended to make several fascinating and wonderful posts.

Instead I'm doing this!




It also seems that my comments are not functioning. Great! No idea why.

Tragedy is when I get a hangnail.

Or, in this instance, when my earring breaks in half. My earring broke in half, everyone!

In case you have no idea why this should be a big deal, I'll have to tell you that I only wear one pair of earrings, and, in fact, I never take them out. I've been wearing pretty much continuously for about the past ten years. ... Which could have something to do with them giving out. That, and the fact that they are gold, which is a soft metal. And a lot of things are breaking lately.

I don't know what to do now! Do I get new earrings? I can't handle anything that I would have to change. I never wear jewelry. I think my holes will probably close up. I mean, it would figure.

In other news, my hair has gotten a bit long. I was thinking I would like to cut it, but I would also like to donate it again. And for that, I need to take off at least 12 inches, and I think that would make my hair unacceptably short. I'm not quite ready for that.

This blog is about Harry Potter.

Or: Ack! What did I do?

I just wanted to let you know that the last Harry Potter book is going to be released relatively soon? And I'm kind of excited about it? Also, don't mind the fact that it looks crappy, because hopefully my whole blog will look all different soon anyway.

"Soon" in this instance, can mean whatever you want it to mean. But, we'll see.

Just in time for spring!

I finished my scarf! Actually, I finished the knitting a few weeks ago, but it's taken me this long to get a yarn needle and get the ends taken care of. There weren't even that many! I haven't blocked it yet, because it is totally taller than I am  and I don't know where I'm going to lay it out.

But! But! I took some pictures! And I put them on my (relatively) new Flickr account! There are all kinds of things happening on my blog today, I'll tell you what.

Not pictured: my face. I took a couple pictures of me wearing the scarf, which came out really good. I mean the scarf came out good. My face, not so much. So I just posted a close-up.

Scarf on bed.
Scarf on me.

My mother already told me that she wants me to make her one. Sure! I'll get right on it. ... Actually, I will. I told her to buy me some functional undergarments and Harry Potter in exchange. We still haven't preordered it! ONLY 102 DAYS!

God damn it.

You Should Get a JD (Juris Doctor)

You're logical, driven, and ruthless. You'd make a mighty fine lawyer.

What Advanced Degree Should You Get?

If the internet thinks so, it must be true!!

And when they leave, it's godless in the dark.

One of my favorite bodily sensations is something that I've come to call "heartbreak in the gut." Like a lot of things, I'm not sure what this says about me, since, as the description implies, it's not an entirely happy sensation. It feels a bit like negative g - force, just under the ribs, just for a moment. Sort of. What it's really like is like feeling heartbreak, but in your gut.

I guess one of the reasons I like it is because I don't think I've ever felt it as a direct result of something that has actually happened to me. It's in some ways, an empathetic, voyeuristic sort of sensation. I'm most likely to get it while I'm reading a book, or watching a television show, or listening to a song. It comes right as one character says something terribly cruel to another, or when someone sings a lyric of perfect sad beauty. It's ... basically romanticism, manifested physically.

I don't know what it sounds like, but trust me, it's a lot nicer than the feeling that resides in the chest. It's a little warmer, a little safer.

A great source of this sensation is a song I discovered recently. It's a song by a band called The Floors, or The Pelvic Floors, or something like that. Don't Google it. They barely exist. This song was co-written and co-performed by Katell Keineg, a singer-singwriter that I learned about from reading the New York Times Magazine. Seriously. I wouldn't say that it's my favorite song by any means, and it took me a while to really love it. The fact that it's called something silly like "Love Song To My Guru" didn't help, either. But I do now. The lyrics are what got to me. If you're a visitor to the WD, I'll tell you that this is what has been in my bio the past few months. I think they're wonderful. They make my heart break in my gut.

I wanna write a love song to my guru
What can I say
That hasn't already been said
To your face?
I wanna write a heart-rending love story
To bring you to tears
What does it matter
If you never hear?

Batten down the hatches
This will never happen again
But they come in glory, don't they?
And when they leave
It's godless in the dark

I appreciate that "they" is left subjective.

LETTER DAY.

I would like to announce that, as of today, I have paid off my student loan, in full.

Thank you.

GOD BLESS GENETICS.

Be it natural, engineered, or however else this might have happened.

I don't even know what to say about this, people, I really don't.

Hooray for knitting!

Since I began knitting, I've started noticing a lot of things that I hadn't before. The way that fabric is made, for example. I was never exactly certain of what "cotton knit shirt" meant, but I sure do now!

Also since then, I've taken to noticing knit items on the people around me, and wondering, idly, if the items are handmade. Usually, my conclusion is "no." I mean, anything woven, or anything were the knit is very fine, that's a definite no. It gets trickier once the yarn is noticeably heavier. Could be handmade! But still, I decide, probably not. Not that I want to impune on my fellow crafters, but I don't tend to see things that are, frankly, crappy enough to be obviously handmade.

Today I identified my first unquestionably hand-knit items and a person who was, I am certain, a knitter. I went into town today, and while I was loitering around the Port Authority (I was too early for my planned activity - which is always preferable to being too late) I noticed a girl coming out of the bathroom. She was wearing a very long, chunky, garter-stitch scarf, in alternating blocks of red and gold. I suspected that this item was handmade. I didn't become absolutely certain until, while going down the stairs, I spotted a young man wearing the exact same scarf, only his was green and silver. Sure enough, the girl came down the stairs and she and the boy drew closer and closer, until off they went in their rival house scarves.

This made me so very happy I cannot explain. It was welcome, because my day up until that point had been pretty crappy. Actually, my entire weekend had the flavor of a hellish ordeal at some points. But enough about that. Knitting solves everything! And I was then in quite a nice frame of mind as I trotted off to do my undisclosed activities.

I forgot how much fun this is!

A locked post and a high-profile banning, and it's still nine months 'til my birthday!

I've been so put out by the board. It's been so long since anything interesting happened. Boring people and their boring posts. Before this month, there hadn't been any posts at all on the Super Secret Boards since June. June, people! I know, I've been checking.

I hope it keeps up. I hope someone raises a fuss. Like that one kid, you know the one. I hope we have an influx of trolls. I hope something terrible happens.

Wouldn't that been great? Oh come on. You agree. It would be great.

This post is not about anything in particular.

I just suddenly realized that it's been some time since I last blogged, and, what the hell, you kids deserve a treat.

By the time I finish my scarf, it may be spring. I don't know how long it's supposed to be, so I'm planning on continuing until I decide to stop.

Target (I believe) has a commercial that uses "Hello, Goodbye." It makes me profoundly sad every time I see it.

I am all caught up on robots now. "Black Market" was awful.

I'm such a hippy.

As you may recall me mentioning (um, that is, if I have mentioned it, which I'm not sure I have), we planted a tree in front of my house this spring.

It's snowing right now. (Aside: "Hooray! It's about time!") My mother just noted: "It's tree's first snow." And then I said, "Yeah." In an "awwww" sort of way. Like it took its first steps or something.

I haven't actually hugged it yet, but that's really only because the trunk's not that big enough around.