Progress?

Over the past several years, I've had some recurring dreams that place me back in high school. In the typical one, I'm naked or otherwise in some state of undress. But in a deviation from what tv has told me is the standard, no one ever notices. And my quest is always to find clothes before everyone realizes that I'm without them. The dream ends, of course, after my nonstop failure to get this done.

The next frequent one features me getting the news that I won't graduate because I've failed to complete required coursework. I usually wake up and flutter around in a panic until I remember that I've actually got a university degree.

A couple nights ago, I had a school-related dream that I haven't had since I was an active student. In this one, my classmates and I have all come out of a math exam. Everyone is fretting, and everyone wants to know what answers I came up with for various questions. Joke's on them, though, because I totally guessed at all the answers. I don't know any theories or formulas and I'm pretty sure all my answers are wrong. Still, everyone looks to me like I'm the authority.

So, it seems that in the estimation of my subconscious, I have gone from being a failure to merely being a fraud. That's something, I guess!

omg omg happy birthday to me:

eeeeeeee

In a related story: Goddamnit, Michael Sheen.

Michael Sheen, what were you thinking? You are an excellent actor. You were going to be set playing any and every English person of note that you even vaguely look like. You were even in all three Underworld movies and still managed to hang on to your good will.



But frankly, sir, your career deserves what it gets.

And I see you in the back, there, Grindelwald. You're young, and you're pretty, but don't think you have an excuse.

PS ... lol.

You've made some very compelling points.

Top pro, from the Steph: I would make great Tweets. No one would know what I was talking about. That was the whole appeal, basically.

Top con, from the P@: I hate interacting with other humans! It's rather low on my list of likes, and very high on my list of dislikes.

So, percentage wise, how much do you predict my hypothetical Twittering could involve:
- Me entertaining myself (and perhaps, as a bonus, others) by shouting into the void
- Me actually talking to, interacting with, and, god forbid, meeting new others?

This is like part two of the Twitter Interview. The Twitter Callback. It's between Twitter and one other candidate. (The other candidate is "No Twitter".)

Also, as if this entry weren't already ridiculous enough: According to GoodReads, my post tag is literally actually true.

I think I'd like a Twitter account.

Please argue pro or con in the comments.

Not on the docket:

Hangin' with Moammar Gadhafi.

You may or may not have heard about how the Leader and Guide of the Revolution is coming to speak at the UN, and about how he wanted to camp out in a tent in Central Park, and how the City of New York was like, "lol no." And then you may have heard about how he decided to do what countless others before him have had to do: settle for Jersey.

Any not just any place in Jersey! A place in Jersey where I just happen to be a significant amount of the time! I'm sure it's popped up on Pat's IP locator, even though at the time I probably wasn't anywhere near there. I totally could have gotten a picture of his tent with my cell phone camera, you guys.

And, you may be thinking, "Amy, why would you want to?" But the real question is: why wouldn't I? You see my point.

But then the town in question was also like, "lol no." Such is life.

In conclusion, Libya is a land of contrasts, thank you.

Full day.

Yesterday I:

- Learned of my cousin's engagement. (It was also her birthday. And the first I've heard from her in months.)
- Had a panic attack.
- Called 911.
- Got a new phone.

In list form, it totally sounds like these things might be related, but they weren't! They were all completely independent of each other, cause-wise. Oh, and everyone's fine. Well. Not the guy in that car, probably.

For your time: http://seemikedraw.files.wordpress.com/2009/06/twilight2.gif

Incidentally, I have curly hair.

Sometimes I forget, because I blow dry it straight. I did so this morning, but then it rained for 11 years and the power went out.

... Actually, those things are only speciously related. This has been happening every day, because I don't have air conditioning. But still, true story!



Aren't you glad you read this post?

In other, non-death related news.

Today I drove to the supermarket. Or "mart" as I like to call it. This is really not interesting. For a portion of the drive, I was behind a car that I couldn't identify. It didn't look especially fancy. The front was oddly tapered. The logo on the back was an oval, with a capital "R", slanting to the right, with what I'd guess you'd call a strikethrough.

Approximately like so:



Some script off the the right let me know that the car is "supercharged." It had no other distinguishing markings. I determined that when I returned home, I would google this anomaly and edify myself.

GOOGLE FAILED ME. I checked long lists of logos including those of companies that haven't existed since the 30s. Searching for the letter "r" is an exercise in futility. I am bitterly disappointed.

What is it?! I don't know! What if I never find out? Can you help me? Do you know? SOMEONE TELL ME.

Success!!

Today I received a call from my niece, officially inviting me to her birthday party.

In the course of the conversation, she told me that she wanted me to make her a mix CD, like I have previously done. Because she listens to those, and the Beatles CD I got her, all the time. She knows all the words to all the songs. She thinks I have amazing taste.

I am so pleased with myself right now. I can't remember if I wrote about it here or not, but it had been my intent to introduce her to better music than the Z100 crap she favored. ... Thereby saving her life through art and making sure she doesn't become an insipid and unmindful and jaded person. Pretentious? Yes. Jerky? Maybe. But whatever because PHASE ONE COMPLETE.

... She also made a list of songs she wants included. Apparently her favorite song right now is "If U Seek Amy." Which, I mean, I'd object, but let's just say that would involve a certain amount of hypocrisy.

Later in the conversation she informed me of her plans to become a forensic investigator, and told me she looks up to me because I don't need a man to complete my life.

She will be 11.

That was interesting.

In my dream last night, I looked up an unfamiliar word in the dictionary, and the definition therein turned out to be the actual definition of the word.

I'm fascinated by this because I didn't know the word at all until I discovered the information, at which point I was flooded with understanding. But clearly I already knew it, because the only resource I used was my own brain. I literally opened a book inside my head that contained things I know but have forgotten. It makes me wonder what else I know that I don't know that I know.

PS the word was "prosody."

The white stripe.

As I may have mentioned once or several times, my hair has a fair amount of gray in it. My first gray hair was discovered by my friend Jennifer as she was sitting behind me in English class. It was the length of a normal hair. I was 16. When I was 19 I realized that there were, you know, quite a few, so maybe I should do something about it. I plucked the ones I could find. I cut that out a few years ago as it might have made me bald.

Happily, the majority of it is in the front, and I've developed a sort of stripe on one side. I say happily because while I imagine this would freak out some people, I think it's neat. I look like Rogue. Or sometimes you can't really see it and I just look like a person with hair.



My sister has been taken many opportunities to tell me that I need to get it "covered up". I hate that. Aside from the fact that I have never dyed my hair (at least with anything other than lemon juice and sunlight), I don't want to start because I have to "cover up the gray." I mean, what am I, old? Actually having gray hair doesn't make me feel old. Probably because it doesn't make me look old, which I understand is the chief problem with it, societally. It just makes me look like what I am: a young person with gray hair. Having to run to the hairdresser's because my roots are showing, though, would depress the hell out of me.

A few times I've wondered about dying it hot pink or something equally bold. Because if I'm going to dye my hair, I want it to be clear that it was because I wanted to, not because I had to. I never followed through on it because: 1. I tied up with the logistics, even though I could probably just ask Annika, and 2. I'm worried that the establishment might freak. (I KNOW! Shit, maybe I am old.)

I mention this because GUESS WHAT. I'm getting my hair done next week! At a very skilled and expensive place! FOR FREE! And whilst there, I am totally going to get my hair colored. I'm so completely nervous*. What should I have them do? I don't want them to ruin my youthful gray.


*I'm more worried about this than the fact that I'm getting approximately 16 inches of my hair cut off, just to put this in perspective.

I don't even know anymore.

I realized some while back that my sarcastic voice sounds an awful lot like my regular voice. I don't mean that they're the same - they're separate and distinct, at least to my own ears. But then, everything I write in this blog seems lucid and detailed to me. So, you know. The point is, I understand why some people might not be able to tell when I'm using sarcasm and when I'm being completely serious, even if I think they should know. I guess it's the same as realizing that not everyone thinks the same way you do, even if you think they should.

In the same vein, I tend to think that pretty much everything written on the internet contains some degree of sarcasm. Unless it's on AOL or IMDb. As such, I tend to be floored if it turns out that sarcasm was not the intent. I mean, who the fuck would use the internet without their sarcasm filter on?

For example:
http://i61.photobucket.com/albums/h69/devils_angel_8187/c74bf753e8.jpg

"lol, fuck feminism. They take things to far."

"I totally agree. Its ridiculous to me! Its like I am Woman hear me roar! Women don't even know how to be women anymore. They try so hard to be a man and why I will never understand!"

"yeah, I mean I am glad we can vote and that we don't have to be house wives and be controlled by our men, but thanks to feminism we can now be drafted ( the likely hood of that ever happening is slim, but still) I don't think women should be president, police officers, or firefighters. I don't look down on anyone that is any of those things, but I just feel we are to emotional and not tough looking enough for those things. People take advantage of women cops all the time, because people see them as week..even if they aren't. I might get a lot of flack for saying this, but I don't really care."


I mean ... let's assume you're you. And the context of this conversation is a group of people that you generally understand not to be raging idiots, questionable grammar aside, and who generally have a sense of humor. (And incidentally, are women.) Would you naturally assume that this is hilarious sarcasm? Because let me tell you something, I would.

I would be wrong, though.

Things I say in real life, but not on the internet.

In recent times, I have discovered that there are certain words and phrases that I say all the time in spoken conversations, yet rarely use on the internet. I suppose they're kind of like verbal tics, only somewhat longer. Conversely, many of my written tics (I'm looking at you, "totally" and "awesome") rarely find their way into my lingual utterances. (I'm far more likely to say "fantastic.")

In fact, I think the only word I toss out equally in writing and speech is "necessarily." I don't know why I love that word so much, I just really, really do.

Anyway. A list!

nonsense - As in "What is this nonsense?" and "I can't deal with this nonsense right now." Or "This is a lot of nonsense."

business - I actually got this from some post Will made years ago about his "bidness". I reverted it back to proper form and have been unable to give up saying it since. Before I discovered "nonsense" it carried a lot of the pejorative weight I imbue there, but now it's a more general description of any neutral happening. "Once we finish with this business, we can go do something else."

good beans - I have no idea where I came up with this, but I generally use it in the sense that you would use "good egg" and/or "good deal." If someone is kind to you, it is appropriate to say, "Aww, you're good beans." If you are eating a delicious meal, it is appropriate to say, "This is some good beans!" Even if what you are eating is not, in fact, beans.

in life/sometimes in life - This is an interjection on the level of "shit happens." Even though it frustrates my mother, this phrase is never completed with what goes on sometimes in life, or even with an appropriate elliptical tail-off. It just is what it is. Hey, sometimes in life.

absolutement/absolutes - A way to express a concordance of feeling. Does it get a little annoying? Oh, absolutes! Can it sometimes come off a little sarcastic? Absolutement! But then, so can most everything I say.

b-nans, et al. - For some reason, I sometimes want to reduce words to no more than two syllables. This mood usually strikes when I'm talking about foodstuffs. B-nans, to-mates, po-tates, etc. Stress is usually on the first syllable. Sometimes it makes what I'm saying incomprehensible, since I'm usually doing it on the fly.

Here are some observations about insignificant and unentertaining minutiae.

So, yesterday I engaged in some foreign activities. I listened to the radio. While I was driving. On the Parkway. I can't even tell you about the time I passed someone utilizing the left lane. COULD YOU HANDLE IT?

The radio station I was listening to was 101.9, which you may remember me mentioning was a hated smooth jazz station. But wait! It has changed, and is now WRXP: The Rock Experience. See what they did there? It's actually pretty good. As I was driving in my car (!) listening to the radio (!) I heard a song on this station that I've totally never heard before. (!) I was intrigued because it lifted a lyric from a Fleetwood Mac song: "When I talk to God I knew he'd understand/He said stick by me and I'll be your guiding hand." (The new rhythm of the line caused me to realize that I'd been mondegreening that as "I'll be your God in hand" - which, come on, that's a lot better.) Then, as I was listening, it suddenly occurred to me, "Wait a minute! Is this The Clash??"

Well, sort of. Turns out the song was "Why Do Men Fight?" a new single by Carbon/Silicon, a band comprised of Mick Jones of The Clash, and Tony James of Generation X. It's not bad. I bought it off iTunes.

In tangentially related news, I'd like to show you the Best Shirt Ever.

Speaking of new and exciting things: I just went through a drive-thru for the first time ever. Well, as a driver. Naturally. I mean, this is America. I've been to a few drive-up ATMs, so I figured I was ready for this bold next step. I went to McDonald's to get a big-ass thing of their new sweet tea. Sweet tea is exactly my brand of heroin [/hates Twilight]. And, just as I'd planned, they asked me if I wanted anything else, other than a beverage, and I was totally like, "Nope!" Just the tea, thanks! I managed it well, even gave exact change, but I still don't like anything that involves me reaching out of my car for things. I don't think it'd be so bad if it weren't for my congenital shortness.

And now, here are some vignettes of domestic envy:
- My Swiss neighbors have a Dyson. Not the purple one, the yellow one, but, a Dyson nonetheless. I still don't have one, and I still want one.
- My next-door neighbor has been going to the gym, and I think she's definitely skinnier than I am now. Also, her husband looks just like the Chief.

Oh, and apropos of having to go get that picture from IMDb, I've always thought Prince Caspian was a douchebag. Always.

Guys, I haven't decided what I'll be having for lunch yet, but I'll totally let you know!

iPod introspection.

So, I've been spending a lot of time out of my house lately, which has led me to exploring some of the functions on my iPod. Turns out that iTunes will automatically compile a playlist of the songs that you listen to most often ... so that you can listen to them more often.

I checked out my list. And it was odd. It's not an entirely accurate system. Turns out that if you take a song off your iPod and then put it back on, it will reset the count. Ditto if you change the file name. Also, it counts a "play" as reaching the end of the track, and sometimes I will skip back to the beginning of a song if I want to hear it again, so songs with long fade outs are under-represented. And a whole bunch of other explanations and excuses.

Anyway, as it stands, these are the songs I've played the most, on my iPod:
Love Song To My Guru - Katell Keineg with The Floors
(Fair. I've listened to this a million times.)
That's All Right, Mama - Arthur Crudup
(Really? It's catchy, but this is a surprise showing.)
Pistol - Dustin Krensue
(Fair. I love this song.)
I Will Follow You Into The Dark - Death Cab For Cutie
(Fair. Embarrassingly enough.)
Portions For Foxes - Rilo Kiley
(True story: I didn't like this song at all when I first heard it, and then something clicked, and I listened to it all the time.)
Challengers - The New Pornographers
(Neko Case sing so pretty.)
All That I Want - The Weepies
(I haven't listened to this since Christmastide. This list is out of date!)
Endless Sleep - Jody Reynolds
(Surprising!)
From Where I'm Standing - Schuyler Fisk
(Jenny's right, she has a really pretty voice.)
Freedom Is Only A Hippogriff Away - The Mudbloods
(The only Wizard Rock song on the list! Seriously though, this is an excellent song even if you don't know Harry Potter from a hole in the ground.)
All The Old Showstoppers - The New Pornographers
(Hee! I just talked about this! I suspect stuffed ballots.)
Backwater Blues - Dave Van Ronk
(Again, really? Then again, there was a playlist that I had to listen to for a while because I was MAKING A CD FOR SOMEONE, and this was on it.)
Someday You Will Be Loved - Death Cab For Cutie
(Oy. In my defense, this would make a great fan video that I'll never make.)
Hiding In Plain Sight - Lauren Hoffman
(I'm surprised she's not better represented - I listened to her A LOT a while back.)
We Throw Parties, You Throw Knives - Los Campesinos!
(Hee!)
Paperweight - Schuyler Fisk and ... some dude.
(No really, she sings pretty.)
Keep On The Sunny Side - The Whites
(Again, hee!)
Australia - The Shins
(Yup. Totally fair.)
I've Just Seen A Face - The Beatles
(Really?)
Both Hands - Ani DiFranco
(Utterly fair.)
Expectations - Belle And Sebastian
(Fair.)
The Engine Driver - The Decemberists
(I guess? Although I've listened to "Yankee Bayonet" so many more times, I think.)
1234 - Feist
(Really?)
So Long - Guster
(I guess so!)
Diggin' My Potatoes - Lonnie Donegan
(Hee! Hee! Hee!)


Um. So, geez. What this playlist tells me is that I'm really fucking maudlin. And that I may have the Blues. What the hell?

At least it was technically free.

This is one of at least three blog posts that I plan on writing today. Right now. With only breaks to get more apple juice and maybe dinner, depending on how late this goes.

Okay, so, what this post is about is, see, I recently picked up and read Twilight, the first in the eponymous book series by author Stephenie Meyer. I would like to talk about that.

Fair warning, if you have any interest in reading this series, you probably shouldn't read any more, because I really don't know if I can be bothered to use spoiler tags. Maybe, though! We'll see.

Twilight has recently been heavily pimped by the Harry Potter podcasts I listen to. Prior to that, I don't think I'd heard of it. The Potter geeks are interested because a movie version is in the process of being made, and the male lead is to be played by Robert "at least three 't's HOTTT" Pattinson, better known to most of us as the late, lamented, Cedric Diggory. After some cursory research, I found that the film will also include a few more people whom I register on the neutral/positive spectrum: Kristen Stewart, whom I greatly enjoyed in Panic Room, wherein she played a character who was essentially Lauren (though I've so far not managed to see her in anything else), and Michael Welch, who was wonderful as Amber Tamblyn's brother on "Joan Of Arcadia."

Variety of title style is getting a workout in this entry.

So, anyway, after they'd mentioned this a few times, I decided to try it out. I was promised sexy times, action adventure, and vampires. Seriously, odds are it was up my alley.

I went to the library to try to snag it there, but for the third time in a row, the book was listed as being in the library, but it was not on the shelf. So, either my public library has a large problem with theft, or they can't catalogue for shit. I wound up picking it up at the Barnes & Noble because I found a gift card I had for $30. I also finally picked up the last Ted Leo album.

The book is about 500 pages, and I finished it in less than 24 hours, gross time, even with doing other actual activities. This book bothered me greatly. Why, you may ask? It is a resplendent example of why I'm scared to write a novel: because I worry that this is the sort of story I would produce. Now, don't misunderstand. I'm not saying I didn't like it. I did, after all, just pay it the high compliment of saying that I could see myself writing it.[/hubris] I'm saying that it wasn't any good.

I checked out the author's website, and I read some of her background on her writing. (This is her first novel.) Among the things that quirked my lip corners: She got the idea for this story from a dream. Also, she obsesses mainly over the details of the characters. And she looks a lot like Charisma Carpenter. That last point is just for color.

She takes an awful amount of pages to say not very much. There's no plot to speak of, except towards the end where the characters passively happen to fall into a weak and contrived scenario. There's no active decision making that I can remember at all. The writing is painfully repetitive. The human girl's vampire boyfriend is very pretty. The author mentions this in every sentence in which he is described. Which happens 5-10 times for every scene that he's in. ... Which is pretty much every scene. Also, the human girlfriend is clumsy. Vampires are pale. She loves her vampire boyfriend. Her breath catches. Her heart beats erratically. Et cetera. Also, the vampire boyfriend has some sort of issue where he'll go from laughing to scowling and angry to smiling every other sentence. In a few years, if you're ever flipping through the premium channels and you catch Mr. Pattinson and he's doing this - he's not insane. He's in character.

The secondary vampire characters are all fairly ridiculous and not worth mentioning. They attend high school for Chrissakes. Listen, if you were a hundred years old, would you go back to high school? On purpose? Even if people left you alone and you aced all your tests and occasionally got a human girlfriend? No. You would not. There are a variety of subplots that wind up never having anything to do with anything. And of course there's the usual dilemma. You know, the vampire boyfriend totally loves the human girlfriend and they want to be with each other forever, but of course he doesn't want to make her a vampire. Except, see, in the mythology created by this book, and in the context of this story, this makes no effing sense. Seriously. As written, every single objection is discounted or can be worked around. So the dilemma comes across as preposterously artificial, and I was instantly tired with the whole thing as soon as we got there. Because I've read this before. Innumerable times. And it's been done. Better.

Of course, they don't really address the question of whether or not vampires have souls. I'm going to have to come down on the side of "no" though, because of one exchange. The vampire boyfriend claims that he likes music from the 50s and the 80s, but not the 60s or the 70s. And I can't. freaking. understand that! He must be evil, because that's a completely soulless thing to say. Furthermore, it doesn't make any sense. Most of the music in the 80s was a direct derivative of the music they were playing in the 70s, except for the teeny pop, which was based on the music of the early 60s. THAT SHIT MAKES NO SENSE. Get me a flow chart. What is he saying? That he would rather hear Tiffany than the Jackson 5? He would rather listen to Billy Joel than Bob Dylan? Poison is better than the Zep? Is he seriously saying that he prefers WHAM! to the Beatles? Human girlfriend: dump his stupid evil ass.

Of course, the author listed some of her musical preferences on her website, and she's got shit taste, too, so this perhaps explains it.

So, wait, what was my point? Oh yes. I worry that I would write something like this. I mean, obviously, my taste in music is better, and I would like to believe that my writing skills are better, but about the meandering plotless vacuum with excessive focus on character thing. About vampires or something like that. What's baffling, though, is that this series seems to have a large cult following. It's mostly teenage girls OMGing about romance and hot boys, but still. It was a NY Times bestseller. It's gotten all sorts of good reviews from various sources. Is it me? Are people just not that discriminating anymore? And ... I don't know, could that conceivably work to my advantage?

I'm not as keyed up about it as the entry probably sounds, though I have all these issues. Again, I didn't dislike it. I'm a sucker for vamp angst. It's like chicken. Even if it's not the greatest, I'll probably eat it. It's one of the few things I enjoy. But I definitely won't be getting the follow-up books. Especially as I'm given to understand that a werewolf storyline gets introduced, and man, I just don't have the time. The book collectively took less than 6 hours of my life, but I just do not have the time for that.

In which I look totally fucking emo.

Backstory: This coming Saturday there's an audition in town that I was considering going to. Even though I would have to get there late, because my Business Venture ties me up for a good chunk of my Saturdays. I can't let that stop me! Plus, I think I would be well-suited to that one role. No, not the sax player. I am not in the slightest bit emo, but I have range. Although, ironically, and for the first time ever, I may be too tall.

Of course, if you read all the small print, winning the audition would include not simply playing an emo character, but ... becoming part of an actual emo band. And while I would love to play a character and/or be in a band, there are certain lines that cannot be crossed. Which lead me to my decision of "no."

But!! Not until I had already tarted myself up emo-style to prove to myself I could. And took pictures. For the record, this is generally what my awesome new hair looks like. It looks even better when I'm not wearing all black and lipstick for eyeliner.

Emo!
Emo!!
Emo!!!

I feel the strange urge to get a MySpace.

Posting into the void.

You know how there are those movies, in which a person dies, but they don't realize they're dead? Or invisible? And they don't figure it out until they start realizing that no one can hear them, and they're not affecting anything in the physical world?

I'm starting to feel like that, only, on the internet.

Did I internet-die and just not realize it?

The hell, people. The hell.

I got my hair cut.

It's pretty hot.

Unfortunately, since I can't seem to take a picture of it worth a damn, you'll just have to take my word for it. It's still ridiculously long, but now it has layers, and bangs that half fall in my eyes on purpose.

Not I'm going to go bop around to "Endless Sleep" by Jody Reynolds with my attractive hair. That's the kind of hot I mean.