So accurate!!

Thank goodness I found this at Crystal's Blurty, because I was wondering how I was going to start this entry.

How to make a Amy

Ingredients: 5 parts anger 1 part brilliance 1 part empathy

Method: Blend at a low speed for 30 seconds. Add a little wisdom if desired!

Username:

Personality cocktail
From Go-Quiz.com

Anyway, now for some more random things. My hair is turning gray. I know I've said this before, but I really mean it this time. It's not just a few hairs scattered around the head. It's 11 strands in just the small section I fingered through. "Oh, Marge has been gray as a mule since she was 18." I mean, is this normal? I had really hoped that I could go gray gracefully in my life, because I've begun to think that strands of silver in dark hair, especially if the woman is not too old, looks rather nice. It's strong and defiant somehow, and that's how I wanted my hair to be. But this is too soon.

I can now add "Lebanese" to the list of "Nationalities I've been Mistaken For." I've been thinking of adding this to my acting resume under the "other facts" section. The complete list is as follows: Belgian, Cuban, Dutch, Egyptian, English, French, Greek, Indian, Irish, Italian, Lebanese, Mexican, Native American, Palestinian, Romanian, Russian, Sicilian, Spanish, Swiss, Turkish, Ukranian, Venezuelan. Guess which three are right! Yes I listed Sicily as a different country.

In my final bit, I'm going to talk about Harry Potter yet again! I must be butter, because I'm on a roll. Please forgive me for saying that.
[Begin Spoiler for Ron, up to Prisoner of Azkaban. — Highlight to view]

I was thinking of my Katy quote (two mentions in as many days!) and thinking about how Ron's been used in the films thus far, and I've decided that there is one thing in particular that shows Ron's true nature better than anything. Scabbers.

Ron is poor. Ron is sensitive about the fact that he is poor. Scabbers (yes, let's nevermind that he turned out to be evil - I felt so bad when I met the characters, and Ron's introduction of Scabbers is what made me fall in love with his character) is sort of a living incarnation of Ron's poverty. He's a old, crusty, toe-less, slow, patchy rat. Whereas everyone else has brand-spankin'-new pets, Ron has a hand-me-down one. And yet Ron cares about him - is upset when he thinks he's hurt, and is honestly delighted when it turns out that he's alive.

Ron doesn't have much, and he does have the desire to have more than he does. He wants to better himself. But when someone else is involved, he puts his needs aside for theirs. He makes sure that they're tended to first. Whether that be his best friend or an old rat.

In conclusion, Ron's great.

[End Spoiler]

In other news, I may be the best person ever. Discuss.

An entry about Harry Potter, no, seriously this time!

This afternoon, I saw the film Harry Potter And The Prisoner of Azkaban , at the aforementioned multigigagoogleplex. I realize the follow statement might run the risk of alienating approximately half my readership, but: Yay for fathers. Mine is terrific.

It was pretty wild, because it was like I was seeing it for the first time. That's how bad the other theater was.

And now, some spoiler tags.


[Begin Spoiler for The Prisoner of Azkaban. — Highlight to view]

I adore the scene where the boys are eating the joke candy in the dorm. I almost cried, seriously. It's my favorite scene of the film, possibley. This just reinforces something I've known about myself for a long time: I'm am completely queer for movies about young boys bonding at prep schools. You might think this would be a very select thing to be ridiculous over, but really, more movies fit this description than you think. Anyway. Young boys bonding at school. I love it. I also love the scene where Ron wakes up from a nightmare, and Harry talks to him before he goes back to sleep. So cute. Great acting by both boys.

One of the things that I had really wanted to see on screen, and I'm serious about this one, was the picture of the Weaselys in Egypt. It was great; exactly the way I thought it should look. And because they had that, I wasn't bothered by anything else that was omitted or fiddled with. It's the little things.

I really don't care that the names on the map were not explained. Because really, if you're paying attention, they're already explained. I figured it out in the book long before it was explained, just as I knew that Lupin was a werewolf. You know, I think, if you name your child "Remus Lupin" that you're sort of *asking* for something abnormal to happen there. "Boy, I hope nothing wolf-related happens to my son! That was not my intention in giving him this name!" Anyway, the only thing that I couldn't figure out immediately was Prongs, and I think that's cleared up in the movie by relating the figure of the stag to his father. So, everything was good with that for me. I do, however, think the explanation of *why* they all became animagi was sorely needed. Because without it, it opens up major plot holes. Even if you've seen the other movies, and know that you have to register (sort of like a handgun, isn't it?) and you carry this knowledge over into this movie, a lot of assumptions, then you'd simply have to ask, well, if everyone's looking for Sirius, why aren't they checking all the black cgi dogs in the neighborhood? Plus, I dunno, it just felt like something was missing, and I even knew all the explanations and stuff.

In other news, Draco's hot. That's wrong to say, isn't it? Anyway, he also backs up all my theories because he's evil and blonde. That's my type! But as I've said elsewhere, I don't know why people expect him to be such a menace to Harry. I mean, he's a thirteen-year-old fucking kid! Harry's had to defeat, not once but twice, the evil and powerful psycho that murdered his family! And you want him to be scared of Draco? Draco is menacing in the way that he's meant to be menacing: in the way that states that old, evil money pulls a lot of sway. They're pretty much subjected to his whim, really. He can cause as much trouble as he wants, and his father's wallet is going to back him up on it. But he's not going to, say, come after Harry in the night and murder him in his sleep. And to finally talk about the fifth book for Stephanie, I think despite what most people thought (that Draco's threat was lessening) I thought it was strengthening. The older Draco gets, the higher up his influence can go. Eventually, he's going to be controlling some things you'd probably rather not have a nasty, spoiled, vindictive person like that running. This combined with the fact that Harry keeps coming out on top regardless of how Draco tries to fuck with him, is going to brew some deep resentment and jealousy in his little blond head. And when his retribution comes, he's going to make it as bad for Harry as he can. However, for the time being, he's a idiot teenager. Harry's busy saving his own neck. So shut it about Draco.

I need to directly quote the divine Katy and say: "My one gripe was the giving of the line 'If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too!' to Hermione rather than Ron. Maybe they were making up for Hermione's relative abscence from the last film, but Ron seems to be becoming more of the comedy side-kick to Harry and Hermione, which is not in keeping with the books. Yes, Ron isn't as sharp as those two, but he's courageous and loyal and a true friend to Harry. When he says that line in the book, he's prepared to crawl across the floor with a broken leg to protect the life of his best friend. It's a great moment, and its a shame they gave it to Hermione as she already had plenty of great moments in the film already." Totally. I hadn't even thought about it before, but, yes. If Fred and George weren't my favorite characters, then Ron would definitely be. ... I also have a thing for redheads. As well as blond boys. Blah. If by the end of the series Ron doesn't wind up saving the day and getting the girl, I'm going to be very disappointed. And by girl I do mean Hermione. Theirloveissoobvious! Hermione is not meant for Harry. In their group, Ron is actually the new James. Hermione is the new Lily, and Harry is the new Sirius. I know I'm just throwing that out there, but think about it.

Sirius: money, popularity, and the more you know him, a bit of a dick. Still likeable, but seriously, kind of a dick. Compare, Harry.

I still love David Thewlis. With all my heart. I think some of his mannerisms were off as the character, but I think the personality was perfect. I really liked his exiting scene, where he said "...Let's just say, I'm used to it." Perfect mix of humor, resign, bitterness, and tiredness. I love David Thewlis

I don't think Gary Oldman's really too attractive, but in the book, I dimly recall of description of Sirius that says you could see in his face that he was once a handsome man. And there was a closeup of Oldman in the film, possibley the last one, where this completely struck me, because it saw it very clearly. It was actually a perfect way of describing him. So, yay Gary Oldman!

For a closing remark, I'll say: dark, schmark. I like the books because they're all depressing and ominous and stuff. This film touched on that, but I still don't think it's as dark as it should be, given the matierial. They suck your soul out through your face!

[End Spoiler]

It figures.

That when I finally bundle up all my things to mail, they declare the day a federal holiday. Stupid dead president.

So, none of you are expecting anything, anyway.

I am a rock band. And also a girl. I'm all excited about babies and weddings.

Incidentally, if you have blood tests on a regular basis, can you give blood? If so, I probably should, since I am a universal donor, or so I've been told. I'm such a giver.

This entry is about Harry Potter.

So, this afternoon, my mother and I went to see Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban . I was actually unaware that it was premiering this weekend, but apparently that's the case. Then why have so many people seen it, I wonder? Anyway, I was entirely unsatisfied with the whole experience, which had nothing to do with the movie. So, my mother wanted to go to this absolutely crappy theater in my absolutely crappy town. It's absolutely crap. However, it's showing at 4:45. And it was three o'clock and she was ready to leave, so we went to the multigigagoogleplex two towns over. It was playing on five screens, but the nearest shows were all sold out, and the next available showing was at 6. So it seems my mother would have her crappy theater after all. So we go there. It's still crap. It's small and cramped and sticky. They kept the lights on through the whole picture. I mean, they had been dimmed, but *they kept the lights on through the whole picture*. The main problem, however, was that the sound was horrendous. The audio was completely unbalanced. The background noise and music was deafening. The dialogue was low, and it echoed. So I could hear about one word per sentence. I sat throught it for about ten minutes before I could take it no longer and got up to complain. I explained the problems, and the staff that was berting around claimed it would be immediately rectified. Which means they made the volume louder. It was marginally better, but it still wasn't balanced, and there was still an echo. I got up again and complained again. They said that perhaps where I was sitting was the problem. a.) I was sitting in the dead center of the theater, b.) what the fuck difference does it make where I'm sitting - it's a fucking movie theater! They also said that they had people pole their heads in from various points, and it sounded fine. Oh, that must have been the banging doors. It did not occur to me to ask if they had actually stayed a reasonable length of time to see if they could actually hear any of the dialogue. Because they didn't. Finally they suggested that I must be the only one having this problem, because I was the only one who had come out to complain. ... I'm sure I don't need to comment on this little particular. They offered me free passes to return to their crappy theater, and I declined and returned to the crappy audio film. If I had been there with someone other than my mother, I would have suggested that we leave. I had to fight the urge several times to just get up and walk out. I honestly can't even tell you what I thought of the movie, because I was just so irate about the whole ordeal. The experience of the movie was utterly ruined for me. Utterly.

Someone should take me to see it again, or something.

Anyway. I did have a few comments that I wanted to make from what I was able to glean purely from the visual, but I'm tired now and I don't have the energy for spoiler tags. And I don't really want to talk about it anymore.

I had chicken fingers for dinner. This quells my rage somewhat. Somewhat.

A better one!

I might in the near future be writing a big long entry about something I'm pretty sure no one except myself will care about. It has to do with my last entry. (Goodness! A follow-up? A clarification!?) ... Of course, now that I've expressed my intent, I'm almost definitely not going to do it. Because expressing intent is just like doing it! So it's over now, out of mind.

Anyway, this is not what I came to tell you about. I am here because slowly it has begun to dawn on me that much like the pirate, "asshat" has become too mainstream. "But," you may ask, "isn't that what you wanted?" To which I will reply: "... Shut up." Anyway, say hello to my next creation.

ASSCART.

I am unsure as to whether or not I want it as one word or two. Anyway, go, children. And disseminate it. Hee.

I hate liking things.

Seriously. Have you ever really really really been a fan of something, and then you realize that everyone else who likes the same thing is really half-assed about it? Like, not knowing character full names and who they're related to and shit like that. You know, the things that you could only really care about if you were irrationally obsessed but yet are like nails driven under your skin when people fuck up? If they don't care as much as I do, then they shouldn't bother at all! ... Dammit!

Also, have you ever read a companion book and pointed out all the errors in it?

*He* left *her*??? Oh, "sharon" you are so on my hit list.

*EDIT*
I think I might have given myself a concussion. He did leave her. I meant to write it the other way around. ... that sharon girl is still on my hit list.

You know.

I'm starting to feel that the only way I can continue to like some people is if I stop reading their posts.

Seriously people.

Okay, I need to say something.

About Brookie.

Please answer honestly.

Do you really care?

I mean, I'm serious. I don't care. I see people that I know and like get upset by things he says, and honestly ... does it even matter? I simply can't even imagine not ignoring everything he says. I've tried to come up with some unpleasant epithet for him, to explain why no one should care about what he says, or whatever, but I simply can't, because that's how little I care.

And I'm perplexed that other people care, because it makes me care, because I care about those people. BLAH! All this caring, make it stop!

My advice. And I seriously hope people listen to it: ignore him. It's so insignificant. If you ignore him, he has nothing to work off. He makes the most ridiculous, inane, and inconsequential comments. They mean nothing! He has done nothing, that I've seen, that is worthy of anyone's attention.

Stop caring! Stop replying. Ignore it. Devote your attention to something that matters. But above all:

STOP CARING!

It's my fondest dream!

More in the continuing adventures of the stupidity of the scholastic institutions I have attended. Today's target: my high school.

When I was a junior in this high school, around the same time I joined the WD, there began some talks of making additions to the school. This, because, you see, the school was becoming ridiculously overcrowded, not only with my town's own young (incidentally, I hope Jaynee moves or decides on a private school before Olivia is of-age), but also with much riff-raff from neighboring, shittier towns, such as East Orange. They claim a relative as a resident of this town, and say they live with them, so they can go to a "better" school. It's crazy beans.

So, anyway. This year, some more than 4 years after this proposition, they began work on doing it. The tennis courts next to the school (don't be impressed - it was fenced-in asphalt) is now a parking area. It actually doesn't look too bad. They began digging up the parking lot adjoining the school, for what will be the future "Kenneth Card Science Wing." Heee. Nevermind.

And, as my father was driving me back from school, he told me: "They've started tearing down part of the building." !! At first, ironically, I was upset. I thought they would be tearing down by where the aforementioned parking lot was. That's where they have these large stone facades that say "Boys' Entrance" and "Girls' Entrance." I used to have my dance recitals at the high school when I was very small, and those were the doors I used to go in through. The "Boy's Entrance," interestingly enough. Part of my childhood. Awww.

But nevermind, no, that wasn't the part they were taking down. No, they're taking down the "new building." Yeah, they're redoing the newer section of the school, not the older section. Yeah, I don't get it either. But, yeah man. Taking a fucking wrecking ball to my high school. I've always wanted to do that! It's so cool!

When I go on my break, I think I will try to go by and watch the demolition of my high school. I wonder if they'd let me help. Even if, you know, I just threw a large hefty rock at it, or something.

Yaaaaaaaaaay!

Also, plans for the rennovations are expected to be completed in 2008. Where's my eye-rolling monkey?

Why am I surprised?

Hello loyal reader. For this month's installment of Amy's blog, we will be reading "Why Am I Surprised That Rutgers Has Fucked Me Over?"



So, I just waited for and got on a bus to take me to the theatre arts department. I was going to drop off my project at my proffesor's mailbox. In the lobby, however, I see a sign:

HOLLYWOOD HITS STRIKE CALL : MAY 5.

What's this you may wonder? Oh, well, this is the strike call that I am assigned to for my Nazi labor camp class. Which was supposed to be on May 9. Ensue panic. I go upstairs to the officed to talk to ... fuck it I'm not using names. I inquire about this. Good news: I haven't failed. I was pretty sure that the policy for missing a strike is that you fail the class. No, instead, I will be dropped one letter grade.

You'd think I'd be relieved, and no, honestly I am. Though, I swear to God, if they told me that I failed and that I had to take the class in the fall, I wouldn't. I would fucking drop the whole major that I'd be one credit away from completing rather than put up with this fucking school any longer than I have to. Let us look at the circumstances that put me here, and allow me to say:

WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!

"It's been up almost a week." Oh yeah? It's been up almost a week? When in that week have I had time to drag my ass across New Brunswick to come here and check it? Didn't this show only start its preview last Wednesday? It ran less than one fucking week? When has that ever happened? You pushed the opening back and pushed the closing up? WHEN HAS THAT EVER HAPPENED? When has a strike ever been on a Wednesday?

Why am I so upset you ask. Aren't I overreacting just a little? What am I getting, a B? Well, yes, but then, consider that I have a 4.0 in my major. I've had a 4.0 average for the past four semesters. It was kind of something that was important to me, you know what I mean? And now, in less than twenty-four hours the whole past three years are just fucking undone. Did they plan this? Are they deliberately trying to fuck me over one last time? Getting in a cheap shot while they can?

I cannot possibley relay how much I hate this goddamn fucking piece-of-shit cocksucking ass cunt motherfucking school. This place hurts my soul. HURTS. MY. SOUL. And I cannot describe it any better. I feel like I've been kicked in the chest.

But what I most want to know is: Why am I fucking surprised? This, I muttered to myself in a daze as I was making my way back here. Why am I so fucking surprised? Is this a shock? Has this school not repeatedly fucked me over time and again? WHY am I caught by surprise every single time?

And really, this has implications for my whole life. Why am I such a trusting person? Why haven't I learned from all the times in my life that I've been fucked over that it's going to happen again? And why, when it does do I get fucking hurt like it's the first fucking time?

Why. am. I. surprised?

And to think, I said i didn't have anything to write about

Now is the time to seize the day.

Well, shit it's been a while since I've made an entry. Not that anyone noticed, probably. I've had the impetus to write about things, as in, actual things more than once since the last installment, but I just didn't get around to it.

So, I have a paper to write for my monkeys class. I've been able to since last week, but I've leaving it until tomorrow after I teach the urchins. Nice and last minute, just like I like it. And then afterwards I suppose I'll write my other paper for my other class (short, thank goodness, since I don't know what the hell I'm going to say) and write up the script report that I didn't feel like doing on Monday.

So. I'm tired. Although not physically. Obviously, since it's 2 AM and I've just had two cans of unfiltered Coke and plan to do some embroidery after I write this. It's okay. I have nearly 6 hours until I plan to wake up. But, yeah. Really tired. This afternoon, I was so upset that it somehow caused me to take a nap. [where's my "flippant monkey and self mocking" icon?] I guess it makes a sort of sense. My body's only way to cope was to knock me unconscious.

You know what makes everything all right, though? Singing newsboys. My God I love this movie far too much. Far, far too much. Sexy singing Christian Bale and sexy singing David Moscow put all things to rights.

Awesome. [/Cartman]

Seriously, yo. Sadly, living in the New York area, there are far too many people to get any real sense of regionalisms. And now, in the interest of making a big honkin' list, and boring the crap out of absolutely everyone, I will now give my personal responses to all one hundred twenty-two of these linguistical thingamabobbers. Or, if you don't feel like caring today, I offer you an alternative:

HONK IF YOU LOVE MONKEYS!

Okay, now that the suckers are leaving me feedback, let's go.

1. f. Although, it depends, really. When talking about the concept, I use "on-t" and "an-t" interchangeabley, heavy on the "on-t" -- but I always say "an-t" when talking about a specific one.
2. a. "been" rhymes with "bin"
3. a. Rock stars, dude. Come on.
4. b. Carmel is a valley.
5. a. But sometimes b. if I'm in a rush.
6. d. D is the fourth option! And it's in purple! And centaur is Sagittarius!
7. a. Stop trying to be British, non-British people. [eyebrow]
8. d. I was leaning towards a., but my keen ear tells me otherwise.
9. b. Cray on, you crazy crayon.
10. a. Although, as I've learned, b. is actually correct. When the word was first getting transcribed, it was pronounced "crick" but spelled "creek" what's been going on since then is a change in the pronunciation to reflect the spelling.
11. b. Yes, I know it's an "o". Bite me.
12. c. No witty comments.
13. a. I'm not sure why. I'm pretty sure that I've always heard "chif," but everytime I say the word, it comes out "cheef."
14. a. Although the other option is just so quaint.
15. a. Woo hoo! All three are different, bitches!
16. b. Incidentally, I hate mayonnaise.
17. a. I'm surprised that b. had the highest percentage.
18. a. No, seriously, people. Two "i"s. Not three.
19. a. No witty comments.
20. b. Hmm. This seems to be shifted slightly south-like.
21. a. or f. Seriously, I interchange those two at random. I really have no idea how to say this word. Not that I care. Nuts to nuts!
22. b. No witty comments.
23. d. I suppose. I say "really" most of the time, but sometimes it's "rilly" when it's in the middle of a fast sentence.
24. d. I suppose again. I usually say "real estate agent." But if forced to pick, I say b. As in "Real-uh-ter Bill!"
25. a. No witty comments.
26. a. Heee. Hehehehehe. Heee. "R-out."
27. a. Huh. I can't believe this is so low in the percentage. I'm used to being the majority. I'm a winner.
28. a. different
29. d. Sometimes I can't tell if I'm pronouncing an "l" but usually, I'm not.
30. a. "Annivershary"? [eyebrow]
31. b. Woo! No metathesis for me!
32. a. No witty comments.
33. c. I think that I tend to say "s" more, but I don't really notice either way.
34. a. I'm such a good little Latin student.
35. a. "Why, what do you call it?" "A car hold."
36. c. I'mma hafta say. I say both, but I say "growsery" when I'm using the word alone, but I also say "growshry" (2 syllables) if I'm saying "grocery bag."
37. a. Because there's a fucking "h" in it, Phoebe. [/Izzard]
38. a. Again, I say, [eyebrow]
39. a. Come on now, people.
40. a. A "cor-ter" is my beau.
41. f. No, serously. I don't. It's a faucet. Or a tap.
42. a. Although, technically, it's not a "g" either. It's an engma.
43. a. No witty comments.
44. a. I like CREAM cheese.
45. b. I'd only stress the first syllable if I were being a dick.
46. a. Does that make me an out-of-towner?
47. b. Again, with the eyebrowing.
48. b. Again, unless I'm dicking with you.
49. a. Drug is pluperfect.
50. h. I think I say "you" and "you guys" in equal measure. And stealthily, like a heat-seeking missile, I think "y'all" is creeping into my vernacular. But then again, so is "you lot." It's so situationally dependent!
51. c. I guess. I often say "You wanna come with?" because of Moe. But my brain doesn't accept that particular sentence, no.
52. b. Not only no, but fuck  no.
53. b. Heh. No. Unless, again, with the dicking. God, I'm a linguistic ass clown.
54. b. I've never before encountered the idea that this following set of sayings is acceptable.
55. b. Ditto.
56. b. Ditto.
57. b. Ditto.
58. b. or c. I usually say yard sale, and if pressed, that's my preference. Unless you're acutally selling things out of the garage, which I've only ever seen happen in the movie Ghost World .  If someone says "garage sale" I won't argue with it.
59. u. I've heard the phrase "mumblety-pegs" before, but I never knew what the heck it meant. Is that what it means? Jesus that sounds German.
60. h. I have no word for this. Though I may consider using "tree lawn" now. For the Harry Potter tie-ins. Is that where her name somes from?
61. d. island. I knew that!
62. g. I'm pretty sure that this, too, is an island. That's all I've ever heard stuff in the middle of the road called.
63. a. milkshake. But when my mother was younger, she called it a velvet shake! I swear to Jesus! Is she a lone freak? Also, I seem to recall hearing the phrase "thick shake" during my stint as a southerner, but I could be making that up. I'm sure Someone will tell me if I am.
64. a. Naturally, it's a sub, and I don't get into any of the semantic fights over this. They aren't really my thing anyway. Though if I had to pick one of the more esoteric ones, I guess I'd called it a hero.
65. c. Interchangeabley, but with emphasis on the lightning bug. "Firefly" is more abstract terminology.
66. a. But I've always wanted to call them "crawdads" because that's funny.
67. a. I've never heard them called any of that other crap. They're the only spider-looking things that I never had irrational fears about.
68. c. I guess. Though I usually pronounced it "granma." I suppose I should have said "nickname" when I was asking this highly scientific question to my highly scientific test subject.
69. c. No distinction. But I think the options they listed for this one are different. Which is off-putting.
70. c. I'm so median with these questions.
71. c. Yup, same thing. Distinctions were made by name. Although, my mother's mother was the only one who wasn't distinguished by name (possibley because she had the same name as my mother) so she was just "Granma." And I had Grampa Louie and Granma Grace, and also Grampa Bud.
72. a. Incidentally, I always called them "dust balls" growing up, but then I was introduced to the phrase "dust bunny" at some point, and it stuck. Although I've also heard (but not used) "dust mice."
73. a. And shut up, .23%. You do not call them trainers.
74. a. Pill bugs!! I love them! Although, when I was very small and first discovered them, I called them something that I made up, and have since forgotten. But "pill bug" is their official name. [nod]
75. a. And seriously, I'm going to kill that .23%. That's not a spree, right?
76. g. I'd only ever call it diagonal. But I have heard "catty-corner." I just didn't know what it meant. And I still don't think it means that.
77. d. Other? Where's the "I don't have a name for this option"? I mean, I think "donuts" sounds familiar, but that's only because the other options sound ever weirder. I don't know, yo.
78. b. Scrap paper is what they give you in math class. [up]
79. a. I'm surprised that anyone in this area said "turnpike" or "parkway" for this. Those are specific roads. And we don't cotton to those "freeways" around here.
80. a. Sunshowers are so pretty. Also, way to live up to cultural stereotypes, the deep south.
81. a. By R.L. Stine.
82. q. What the hell is wrong with everyone? It's "eye goo"! Although I guess I've heard it called "sleep" once or twice.
83. g. Uh, again, I don't have a word for this. An easy course is ... an "easy course."
84. d. I'm sure Del agrees.
85. a. If we're not talking about a scrunchie, then we're talking about an "elastic band."
86. b. It's a doughnut, right?
87. b. I suspect I don't say this because I don't eat them. ... And because I only found out what they were a couple months ago.
88. a. Bow-legged refers to the whole leg! And to sluts!
89. a. Uh ... kinda. I call it slaw, but only because my diction is really quirky, and I see it as an abbreviation of sorts.
90. c. Um. I'm not sure it's fair to say that I know the difference, but I do have different conceptions of the words. A casket is what the person's in during the wake and services, but once you bury it, it becomes a coffin. I usually say casket. Unless I'm talking about vampires.
91. b. No witty comments.
92. c. I call it "asshole." Incidentally, a Chinese fire drill is something totally different.
93. c. Seriously. It's all good.
94. c. Frosting is shit I've hand-whipped, motherfucker! Icing is the really sickly-sweet stuff (too sweet for ME? Surely you jest ...) that makes me queasy.
95. a. New York Wins! FATALITY.
96. e. I do not use the term "supper" unless I'm in a really weird mood.
97. b. Sometimes "trash can" but usually not. A garbage can is in the kitchen. A trash can might have more paper goods in it.
98. a. "On ... accident"? [eyebrow]
99. b. That's what I hear them called, anyway.
100. d. Only, you know, I don't ...
101. b. But, I mean, I've "passed up" homework. If we're all staying in our seats.
102. g. A waterbug is something else.
103. d. "Bubbler"? [eyebrow]
104. a. Generally, anyway. I know different cities have different systems, but here it's the subway.
105. a. Heee! I love this one! Someone say "pop" right now! Or "Pepsi coke"!
106. c. Seems almost too logical, doesn't it?
107. c. Yep. No one really cares about the accident, they just care about the hold-up. Not that it stops them from looking!
108. a. No witty comments.
109. a. I want to hear someone call it a poke, though. I really do.
110. c. Is this really not that known? "Devil's night"? Wtf?
111. a. But it's so cute when some people call it the heel. It really is.
112. a. Yay drugs!
113. b. People don't?
114. a. Though I guess it really should be the other one, huh?
115. a. Heee. Like a cow's opinion.
116. a. I'd only say "thezbian" if I were making a deliberate lesbian pun. Which is not so unlikely.
117. a. It's a basement, though if I had to define "cellar" it would be a cross between d. and e. But being unfinished doesn't make it a cellar, it just makes it an "unfinished basement." It's the storing part the makes it a cellar. Like a "wine cellar" or "cellar dungeon."
118. g. Oh. My. God.
119. a. Though I want to bring "take away" into usage in the States. Help me out, y'all!
120. b. Or a. "Shotgun" is just the call. If you're stating it in a more academic way, you can say "Dibs on the front seat!" But if you just say "Dibs!" you'll get a pffft to the face, and someone taking your seat with a call of "Shotgun!"
121. c. I never knew that I wasn't saying it properly. If I had to pick a runner up, it'd be "oogle."
122. b. Suck it.


And that, my friends, is what you get for reading my blog.

04/04/04!!!!

It's 4:44 on 04/04/04! It's 44 degrees outside!

I WIN!

I'm never gonna let you go, 'cause I like your charms*

I'd just like to mention that I am so ahead of everyone on celebrity crushes. I liked Owen Wilson from Armageddon . I liked Orlando Bloom when he was in Black Hawk Down . I was totally crushing. And then I got over it! And a year or so later, everyone else caught up. Bravo to getting around to Sarah Polley. That was only a decade ago!

Anyway. I have excellent taste. And I'm pretty. For these reasons, I don't feel any shame for doing things like waking up at 1:30 to listen to "All You Wanted" by Michelle "You-Can-Tell-I'm-Emoting-Because-I-Turn-Every-Syllable-Into-Like-Ten-Syllables" Branch.

That's right. No shame. I am cleaning out my ears with Zeppelin. Whom I started listening to at birth, by the way. At birth .

In other news, my AOL webspace has been non-functional for quite some time, meaning that I cannot upload anything new to it. This pisses me off something mighty.

*By which ...

I love my little Hispanish children!

I love them! I love them and I want to keep them! Do you think their parents will let me? I was very nervous about going to teach creative dramatics to a small class of bilingual students at a local elementary school today (she said for exposition). But they were wonderful. They got right into all the activities, and none of them suck. Reuben is the shy taciturn one. And he has blue eyes. So he might be my favorite.

They asked if I was married. [eyebrow]

...I said no.

Pardon me

whilst I eat some strawberries with some Double Devon Cream.

Oh yeah. That's the stuff.

I can't tell if I'm depressed or feelin' fine. I mean, continuing coverage of one story keeps getting remarkabley worse, and I haven't been sleeping well (again), but everything else is rather good. Plus, I emerged triumphant in my latest battle against the irony fairies.

Plus, the aforementioned foodstuff. I'll be spiffy when Wednesday rolls around.

Who's won that race? What's the weather like today?

It's snowing!! This is ridiculous! It was in the 70s nary a week ago! Okay, perhaps nary. According to several (at last count) persons, I have not been updating often enough. Ha! Well. I have nothing to write about (aside from my strong desire to raise a campaign to Save the Subjunctive Mood) so I will answer a BLOQ from P@!

(That stands for: Bunch, Logbook-style, Of Questions.)

Aren't dollar stores just the shizz-nit? I'm not really sure. When your town has a surplus of dollar stores (or, more accurately, 99 cents stores) it tends to look a bit crappy. Of course, it is a great resource for purchasing props and the like for my classes. So. Maybe.

What three words best describe you? I am Amy.

What would a Ph.D. do fo-r your care-r? It would improve public perception of my intelligence if I become sufficiently famous. Wouldn't really do anything for me in terms of actually getting work, though.

If a book were being written about your life, what would the chapter you are currently in be called? $14 a week. (My autobiography would be called "My Life On Trains.")

Bob Dylan said everyone must get stoned - but why? Because The Man is like that.

Don't you hate that? I sure as hell do!!

How can they possibly expect you to go to work on a day like today? Well, I have a seminar. I suppose I don't really have to go, but this is my "department" as it were. So I feel like I should. I think it'll be good times. Of course, this is all dependent on whether or not NJ Transit actually gets me there. WHAT WITH ALL THE SNOW AND EVERYTHING.

If you could change the color of your eyes, your hair, or your skin at will - what would you alter your appearance to? At will? You mean, if I could be like, a shape-shifter? That'd be pretty neat, I suppose.

Pick a movie or a book or a television series that you know fairly well - now, what character would you like to see their point of view from? (eg, Harry Potter from Draco's perspective, or Snow White as strictly told by Sneezy, etc) Huh. You know, all of my favorite series show events from the perspectives of several different characters. That's strange, says I.

What song do you currently have in your head? "All Along The Watchtower" as sung by Bob Dylan. Of course, that's also the song I currently have in my ears.

What have you learned today? The Harry Potter stationery makers are cheap ass-bastards.

I love the sound of a Pepsi can opening. Also, certain sirens are cool. What sounds do you find appealing? Oh Pat. Also, I like creaking stairs for some reason.

If you could visit 83 years in the past, or 83 years in the future, (for one week, with no time paradoxes resulting) which would you choose and why? 83 years in the future, obviously. THINK OF IT FROM A GAMBLING STANDPOINT! Also, I see no benefit to going backwards in time. I'd just get a lot more things to say "No it wasn't, it was like this ," about. I have enough of that from my own lifetime.

and finally...

Invent a new word right now....please? Dude, I've invented so many already. I'm a neologizing fool! What, "spish" wasn't good enough for you? Hows about "googe"? Alright, here we go.
"smraf" n. tightening of the forehead in response to an unwelcome utterance, such as a request.


* I'd like you to know that ieSpell's suggestion for "spish" is "apish." Heeeeeeeeeeeee!!! They're not far off!

HOUSE FIRE TURNS TRAGIC.

This was the headline I saw at a paper stand at the train station. Am I missing something, I wonder? Are house fires usually a cause for great celebration? I mean, I assume that they mean people died in the fire. And that's not good, I suppose. But "turns" tragic? I don't think this has the dramatic juxtaposition that a headline like, say: WONDERFUL PARTY TURNS TRAGIC would have.

In an unrelated story, I have been wondering if I should get one of those "Wish Lists" at Amazon.com. Should I? See, on one hand, it'd be really swell if I got stuff that I wanted. For free. But on the downside, I know I'd probably end up getting things for free. And that makes me feel all guilty.

On second thought, if someone could just get or manufacture for me a lifetime ... food pass to Wendy's, that would really kick ass.

Happy Birthday, Nip!

Nip, my beanie baby cat, was born March 6, 1994. Which means that yesterday was his 10th birthday! It was also the day I got him! Heee! He was a present to me from the director of the show (it's a fitting gift, the play is sort of about a cat) -- because last night was closing! Woo! No more show!
I slept until 4 o'clock today. It was terrific.

I've also just had some chicken. That was terrific.

And I've decided that when I by my train tickets tomorrow, that I'm going to pay for the fare partially in nickels. The prospect amuses me far more than it should. I mean, seriously. Hehehehehe! Nickels!


Oh, and listen to my kitty's little poem:

His name is Nipper, but we call him Nip
His best friend is a black cat named Zip
Nip likes to run races for fun
He runs so fast he's always number one!

MY CAT IS A WINNER!

Oh yeah!

One of the things that I wanted to mention - my well-meaning preceptor has put up another bulletin board. It has a bunch of feelings on it, with pictures cut out of magazine and dabbled in glitter to go along with those feelings (Clint Eastwood is "cranky" heee!). And then there are index cards with the names of everyone on the floor thumbtacked to it bottom. The idea, of course, being to indicate how we are that day (like those magnetic smiley-face charts - although there's nothing like "cute" on it, what a rip-off!) by placing or card by our emotion. One of those is "in love" (which, does that really qualify as an emotion? I'm conflicted.) and the associated picture is of Kirsten Dunst and Jake Gyllenhaal. I squealed for joy!

Seriously, though. I know that I don't know the girl, and only stalk her alarmingly and wouldn't mind being in naked contexts with her ... hmm. So, my presuming to know anything about her love life is a bit silly, but, honestly, nearly never have I seen two people so in love. Every picture of them together is just so ... filled with emotion. Like where ever they are is completely secondary to the fact that they are with each other. God I hope that lasts. It makes me feel so happy for the both of them, and in general. It's really beautiful.

Crossword puzzles.

And her boobs are still fantastic. [up]

Heh.

So, I arrived home this evening to find a bag of food and a card hanging on my door. The card was addressed to Shereen. Of course this did not stop me from opening it. Apparently, she has a lunch date with a young lass, but she canceled it. So the lass bought Shereen lunch, and a card of apology! That's so nice!

But apparently Shereen didn't tell her she moved out, either!

The food is now resting in my refrigerator. I bet wacky hijinks will come of this!!

In other news, the show is going much better, thanks. There were some amusing occurrences that I had wanted to relate (not related to the show), but I've forgotten them all. Oh well. Next time.

Gah.

D'you ever have something to say to someone, but you're so worried that it's not going to be ... right to say? Maybe because you know that their feelings are the more important, but you really just want to talk about your own feelings? Something like that. Anyway. This is one of those.

You are so fucking right. God. So ... everything. One of my pet hatreds is of the phrase "I know how you feel." But, some of the things you say, Jesus, I fucking was   you. And I would have given fucking anything to have you never know what it feels like. You are completely right.

Fuck.

Worlds folded more than 4.

In case you were wondering ... that was  the gimmick.

All in all, I've had a most pleasant and entertaining 4th.

What collides?

I have had a miserable day. I want sympathy. I'm far too tired to write out my troubles again, and yet, I still don't feel sated with prior rantings. So I am just going to copy and paste directly from emails that I sent to the Boy. Aren't you lucky! It's like a super secret glimpse into my life!

Preface: As ... someone may know, I am running a show now. Normally, I love this. I am an actress, foremost, but I love working crew, and I love my producing work. I am a theatre enthusiast in general. So when I say that I was achingly disappointed in my evening, I ain't just bullshitting you. Also, since I didn't mention this in the email, my scene partner for my class most definitely has a crush on me. It's really pissing me off. And if he doesn't learn his lines, I think I have every right to murder him. Moving on.

Email the first: Oh good, it's you. As my designated lifemate, you get to hear me carry on about my completely shitty day. I took a lot of napping last night, and actually slept for a good deal of the night. However, since I'd been so ... awake for a few days prior, I was still extremely tired. And I had to wake up early to do my laundry, because I'm not sure when I'm going to *get* another free *hour*. Whilst doing my laundry, I discovered something insidious. The dryers, which cost 75 cents per use, run for 54 minutes. Without exception. 75 more cents if you want 54 more minutes. What I have done in the past is, at select times, remove select clothing items which are already dry, to help the still-damp ones dry faster. I could take as much time as I wanted, since the timer only counted down while it was running. NOT ANYMORE, THOUGH! Now, the minutes get used up -- even if the dryer isn't on! What the fuck am I forking over my change for? Anyway, because of the need to do laundry, I had a very short time to get to class, even though my class was at one. First, though, I had to stop off at the store to get a gift for my "secret valentine" -- because my class decided this would be a good thing to do. I got a sample box of chocolates and a card with a smiley face on it. It cost less than three dollars, but that was still more than I was willing to spend. I need to conserve all my money for train tickets and, you know, to live. Despite my poverty, I still felt shame that mine seemed to be if not the cheapest, than one of the bottom two of everyone. Even though I am destitute. (On a that note, my father is bringing my prescription down to me on Sunday morning. I will beg for funds because I do not know shame or guilt.) My gift was a bar of candy that I didn't like, and a bag of "Veggie Twists" which actually is the sort of fruity new-age snack I'd go in for. Except the flavor - garlic and rosemary. ?!!?! So, after class I took the bus back to my room, unloaded some stuff and grabbed my pills and checked my emails. About 12 minutes total. Then I had to get another bus to go back to the other campus to work on the show. The bus was at the stop as I arrived. The EE. As I was *running up to and along side it* is when it started to pull away. I WAS RIGHT FUCKING THERE! As it leaves me there, hoping that the driver sees my extended middle finger in his rear view window, I look across the street to see the F bus also pulling away. So I had to stand at the bus stop for about 15 minutes. All this means that I had about 15 minutes to go to the dining hall and attempt to have food. The only thing that had that I could actually eat were dry chicken finger (no honey or honey mustard) of which I had about four. It was terrible. And that's all I've had to eat all day. Also, I've been very dehydrated (which I note as I suck back my last bottle of water). Then I get to the show! I soon find that I have not yet begun to be pissed off. Let me start a new paragraph.

So, I am running props. My duties include setting the props and some furniture that will be onstage, and arranging items off-stage that will be carried on by the actors. This can all be done before the show starts. During the show, I hand one thing to one person, take one thing from one person, and hold open a door. That's it. As I am backstage, I cannot watch the show. That's what tonight was supposed to be for. Tonight was the *crew watch*. That is the title of the evening. It's an opportunity for the crew to watch the show. But did I? Well, fuck no! Because the stage manager thought it would be a good idea for the prop people to "watch" the show from backstage. Even though none of our duties are even set as they are still changing things around. I did fuck nothing for an hour and 45 minutes. Absolutely nothing. I stood around being frustrated and bored and taking up space, and then pretending to be happy when the actors introduced themselves. I could not see the show and I could not hear the show. I only have a slightly better understanding of it than I did before. I HAVE NO CONNECTION TO THE SHOW. I don't even know what's fucking going on on the stage. So fucking frustrated and so fucking bored. It was torture, and it's going to be torture every fucking night.

What I could tell of the play was the following: not thirty seconds into it, there's a scene of simulated sex. The word "cunt" is used a great deal of times. This play was obviously written the day after the Sexual Revolution occurred. I don't know if you'd enjoy seeing it or not. There's a musical number at the end (there are musical numbers - it's weird) in which the ladies sort of ... heckle and insinuate upon the male members of the audience.

So, yeah. I had a fucking awful night. I barely know what's going on in the show. I have no connection to it, and my first impression of it is that it's a horrifically boring waste of my time. None of which I would have to feel right now if they had just let me *watch* the fucking show and feel connected to it. But no. Now the next three weeks of my life will suck a boatload of ass.

Email the second: Today (which is by now "yesterday") was also ten years since Karen died. I don't know if that contributed to my shitty day. I don't think it did, but then, as I discovered the other day when I was talking to Anita, we both have a lot of unresolved feelings about it. I meant to mention this somewhere in the other email. You don't have to make this its own reply. I don't know if I want to continue a discussion about it.

I think I'm going to see if I can get some sustenance from the vending machines in the basement. I might get a Coke, though it will surely fuck up my desperately needed sleep session.

Epilogue: I decided to get a bottle of water from the drink machine instead. It was 75 cents. I gave my money, pressed the button, and it pretended to vend. It accepted my money, but gave me no water. There were some chaps there playing that table-football game, so I couldn't even cry. Next, I made my way to the snack machine. It took my money gratefully, but every selection I made, though there was clearly a snack to be had, prompted the message "Make Another Selection". Every single one. So, dejected, I pushed the coin return and collected my change. Then I pressed my luck with the drink machine again, the fruit of which is the opened can of Coca~Cola now sitting in front of me.

Someone shoot me.

Yeah, it brought me to this place, into this gorgeous time.

I keep thinking that I have things to write about. And I probably do. I just never seem to get around to actually doing them. And as of this evening, I will have NO TIME.

That blows. I also have things to do for people. Which I am not doing. I am very tired.

Eh, so, anyway. The point of this entry was to mention that my sister died ten years ago today. So, that's rather ... huh.

My font style does not allow for any aesthetically pleasing way to credit the song in my title, so perhaps I'll just let them build up again, and then do another explanation in the future. Woo hoo! And idea.

Up-Date.

Heeeee!

Yes, so. I had a very good weekend. And I am now upset that several of my friends had weekends nowhere near as good.

My weekend gifts/engagements included movie (Monster  - a good film, but incredibly cheapened for me by the fact that the storyline was completely fake!), candy (from the movie - but super good!), a meal which did not include chicken, but instead shrimp (shocking!), My Fair Lady   on DVD (even though I don't have a DVD player, which he knows), a book of Mensa™ logic puzzles, some illegally recorded music CDs (which I assume are actually on loan), and um, sporting events. Also, for all of Valentine's Day, I was wearing a shirt that said "My Girlfriend Can Totally Beat Up Your Girlfriend." It was great.

In the spirit of Venereal Disease, here is a sort of gift for you all (three) that actually isn't a gift, just something I've been meaning to do for a while. A list of all the lyrics I've used as titles, and the songs from whence they come! I'll come in great handy if you have insomnia, but won't help you otherwise! Ehem ...

January 29, 2003
"I Can't Reach You" by The Who (song written out in full)

February 26, 2003
"Happy Birthday to me"
from "The Happy Birthday Song" by Anonymous.

April 25, 2003
"It's a girl, Mrs. Walker, it's a girl."
from "Glow Girl" by The Who

June 14, 2003
"A new twist on a very old song."
from a live version of "Landslide" by Fleetwood Mac

August 9, 2003
"Timorous Me" by Ted Leo And The Pharmacists

August 13, 2003
"The Tyranny of Distance, Pt. 2"
album by Ted Leo And The Pharmacists

September 1, 2003
"Make Your Bed The River, Young Girl."
from "Make Your Bed" by Neko Case

November 7, 2003
"And nothing else matters when I turn it up loud."
from "Speakers Push The Air" by Pretty Girls Make Graves

November 26, 2003
"I plachu, I rydaiu mylyi za toboiu."
from "In A Glade" by Milla Jovovich

December 11, 2003
"And the world may be long for you, but it'll never belong to you."
from "Grace Cathedral Hill" by The Decemberists

December 16, 2003
"And time will tell us all."
from "The Battle Of Evermore" by Led Zeppelin

December 17, 2003
"Watch the clouds sift through the irreal."
from "No Need To Cry" by Neko Case

February 4, 2004
"Who's gonna start a rock and roll band?"
from "The Cheat Theme Song" by The Skate Party

Man. There were a lot fewer than I thought there were.

I have a valentine (date)!

I am so happy!

I keep meaning to update this with ... things. But, well. You see how well that's turned out.

HORRIFIED GASP!!

(Do not get used to an entry every day, three people that are reading this. This is brought about by insomnia.)

Say, Superhero Girl. You know how I totally hated you because Mona Lisa Smile  was filmed about your town, and you were very close to Kirsten Dunst? WELL GET THIS!

Mona Lisa Smile  was also filmed in GLEN RIDGE, NJ! Dude, dude, dude .... dude. Kirsten Dunst was, literally, two blocks away from where I live. SHE COULD HAVE COME TO MY HOUSE FOR TEA!

Jesus fuck. If I were able to sleep right now, I'd simply have to go take a nap.

Who's gonna start a rock and roll band?

And can I be in it? Seriously. I have decided that I am best suited to be the singer of a band. While my aspirations are many, one of my primary goals will be to provide the public with songs that reflect an accurate use of the subjunctive.

It can be a chick band, but I'm not particular. I'll rock overtime.

Also, in the spirit of my clone here's a very short list:
Four songs that are not in my top four of favorite songs, but that I love nevertheless:
• "Aqualung" by Jethro Tull
• "St. Teresa" by Joan Osbourne
• "Biomusicology" by Ted Leo and the Pharmacists
• "Summertime" by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong

I may be horrible to live with.

Subtitle: My Roommate Has Left the Building.

So, I was at home until today (having left my dormitory on Frieve) because yesterday was my father's birthday (he's a groundhog! and sixty!) and then today I had a doctorb's appointment (I'm fine! and I was taken off one of my medications!). So I returned to my dorm room about midday, on this very day, and all of my roommate's things are gone.

This is most unexpected! There is much emptiness! All she said to me on Friday was "See you soon". And now she appears to have left. No note or anything!

She had been discussing moving into a house with some of her sorority ... people, but I assumed that was for, you know, next year or something. I'd have appreciated a mention of "Oh, hey, I'm going to be leaving, like, now."

As you will recall, my previous roommate also left me mid-schoolyear. But she was a heinous bitchfiend. This one is actually nice and we get on well.

In unrelated events, I have not had a night of restful sleep in over two weeks.

I think that if I am made to live alone, that I will be sad. Last year I was cool with it, you know, because I was in the throes of major depression and such and such ... but I'm feeling quite personable now! Why does everyone want to leave Amy?

I will be very busy this semester, and I probably won't even be in the room enough for this to make a difference. And you know, come to think of it, I've never liked living with someone I don't know, and now I can play my music at a reasonable volume without fear of reproach, I never have to watch reruns of 7th Heaven again, and I can stay up late insomniatic nights working on graphics and long rants about the establishment. But, still.

You know what I mean.

Oh! Also, in mysteriously related news, I am very happy for and proud of someone today.

I'm ugly!!!!

Dear God! I'm ugly! Ugly and BALD! I am bald and I have no hair!!

I got my hair cut today. No, no. You do not understand. I got my hair cut off   today. Over a foot of hair. FOOT OF HAIR! Like, nearly a fifth of the length of myself ... in hair!

I am donating my hair. Marvel at my depth and kindness of soul, while feeling guilty that you are not as good a person as I.

But first, PITY ME! I am bald and have no hair!

"But, Amy," you may say if you could see my now hideous visage, "your hair is still down to your shoulders. That's not that short."

Yes, but you're forgetting on important thing: NOBODY ASKED YOU!

I changed my shirt when I got home. And when I put on the new shirt, I didn't have to reach back and pull my hair out. It was already out!!

When I reach behind my back, I can't feel my hair!! Now how can I comfort myself by stroking my lovely wonderful hair? I CAN'T! Because I'm bald!!

Um. Seriously. It looks pretty good. And my hair is all swishy, which is kind of cool. But. Um. I cannot get used to this being my head. It's all ... lacking in hair.

My new desktop wallpaper is so sexy.

Seriously. I have to stop staring at it. I made it myself! Because I am excellent.

In related news, I have PhotoStudio. Because boys, on rare occasions, can be excellent.

In further related news, Robert Plant is a foxy man.

In completely unrelated news, the P@ has reminded me that I totally need to write about stuff. This stuff will be unrelated to any upcoming gimmicks.

I don't even want to know about the rerun schedule...

Okay so, you know that show I was telling you about? Well, it was on again. And I almost missed it!   Luckily though, I tuned in right wehn it started. I didn't even know it was going to be on! Does anyone know where I can find a schedule for it?

Anyway...

[Begin Spoiler for Ape10 episode 1.2 "Big Time" — Highlight to view]

Dude, get it? Big time? Heee!

You know, I think I like Zombielyn. Yeah, at first, she didn't seem too lively, but I really like her dry wit. Do you suppose it was all the dying that made her so funny? I think so. Anyway, the subtitles were in a much better font this week, so if anyone was having trouble reading them before, I don't think it'll be a problem now.

No Bluebush this week. Well, I mean, they mentioned him but ... man. It's so suspenseful! What's he up to? And, if he put the dinosaur in the forties, which time period does he want to conquer? He can't be like, a Master of All Time, can he? CAN HE!?

Spark saved the day! Just like I knew he probably might. I was worried for a while though, I didn't want him to have to die for his heroism though ... um, die by attracting planets and whatnot. But they figured it all out ... one way or another, so that was cool. He's just cool anyway. He's just like "Hey, while we work on savin' the city ... I'm gonna have a Hot Pocket." That's so cool!

I wonder if they were actually filming on location for this episode. How big a budget does this show have, anyway? I mean, probably a lot, if they could get Russell Crowe to do a cameo. Maybe the producers have eerie powers.

Was this episode more filler, or do you think they're still setting up for things we have to know. Setsumei looks like he could be a reoccuring character, and I want to know if they're going to work in his lab more, maybe discovering some secrets!

Anyway, I turned it off when the previews for next week came on. I really don't want to know any spoilers.

[End Spoiler]

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!

I found it! My life is complete!

ROBERT PLANT WITH A GIBBON!

And because God loves to mock me, I can no longer use PhotoStudio, my other true love, and thus can not turn this into ... like, every type of graphic ever.

"We are gonna kick Jurassic."

That really never stops being funny.

To clarify my previous journal entry: last week I began interning (part-time!) at the lovely McCarter Theatre in Princeton, NJ. I assist Mara Isaacs, who is the producing director there. As we determined today, I am officially a "producing intern". Neato. Furthermore, I work for no fee, but I am putting in hours there to partially fulfill my requirements to obtain a Bachelor of Arts degree in Theatre Arts from Rutgers University, the accredited institution in which I am currently enrolled and from which, if everything goes according to plan, I will graduate this summer. In addition to this, it is fervently hoped that I will be further repayed for my assistance by being able to observe and participate in the goings-on of a well-respected theatre.

The preceding wealth of information has been brought to you by Mike Mariano, who totally freaked me out with his mysterious comment, prompting me to prove that I am not, in fact, lying and making up cryptic stories all day. He is someone to whom I have probably been introduced but can't exactly recall at the moment, because I was introduced to a large number of people, and I'm still so new and helpless. I am now having the sinking suspicion that I will run into him on Friday and feel very, very awkward. Hi Mike!


With that out of the way! Here is the truly entertaining (to Pat) entry that I was going   to write today, which actually has something to with the title. Is this a first? Maybe!


So, anyway. Last night I was flipping through some web channels, when I caught this new show on my local WBguy station. Did anyone see it? Ape10? Anyway, I simply could not stop watching it. I don't really know how to describe it, it's not sci-fi, and it's not, like, a nature show, or anything like that. It was just really funny and kind of... weird. But in a good way. Weird in that way where the writers are either completely brilliant or else off-the-wall dope smokin' hippies. Anyway, I really think that it's the type of show I could enjoy watching, and I really hope it gets picked up for the rest of the season, and maybe even a second season. I mean, Buffy started out as a mid-season replacement, right? Good precedent, I say!

Anyway, if anyone is interested in seeing it, I don't want to spoil you, so ...

[Begin Spoiler for Ape10 episode 1.1 "Monkey vs. Dinosaur" — Highlight to view]

Dude! What is up with this Ape10 guy? He hangs out with a robot and and zombie starlet in the middle of nowhere, just waiting to solve time related hijinks? It's so ... mysterious. Speaking of which, I looked up the show's official website, and the FAQ said that he can be any ape, except human. Hmm. Why, I wonder? And, again, is that only extant apes? What about Homo erectus or perhaps the first primate ancestor? Wouldn't that stand to reason, since he can go back in time and all the stuff? It really makes me think about all the metaphysical implications. Like, what are the creators of the show trying to say? I really hope they go further into his background and mystical powers (?) because the suspense is just killing me. I have to say, though, I really credit the actor playing him. It has to be hard to take on and perfect the mannerisms of a bonobo, a gorilla, and an orangutan, like he did in this episode. It was subtle and affecting. Really great casting, I think.

Speaking of which, Spark is definitely my favorite character so far. I mean, I don't want to say that after only the first episode, but I mean, come on! He's like a throwback to those ultra-cool camp seventies series. I half expected him to pull up in a Cadillac convertible sporting a 'fro or something.

What is up with Zombielyn, though? Is she a zombie? How are we supposed to know?

Also, Bluebush is such a cool villain. Well, not cool. I don't really know how to explain it. Like, he's endearing because he's so ineffectual and outlandish, but at the same time, there's this underlying sinister quality to him, because you know he could do a lot of damage if he ever managed to obtain any sort of power. Excellent nemesis.

The special affects were also kickin'. And the subtle, odd-ball humor in the writing is just hilarious. Primatology jokes are so up my alley.

I'm not sure what I'd give it as a rating. I think I'll forgo that and see how the show progresses. Man, I cannot wait for the next episode!

[End Spoiler]

I work here.

Eee! Um. Yes. Today, I spent many an hour alphabetizing and sorting. Best job ever? Oh, I think so. I will also maybe do other things, and may also get a desk.

Heee. This ranks right up there with buying cake.

Also, stay tuned for some long awaited ... things. I shouldn't say that. I'm jinxing myself terribley.

I miss my clone.

New Year's resolution: make young girls cry.

Hee! That's not true.

It's 2004!! This is so my year! I am so entertaining. (cf. Bethysphere)

It's like the present I accidentally gave myself.

So, for a specific set of reasons, I decided last night that it would be pertinent to delete my temporary internet files. However! upon my embarking to do so, I located a bunch of folders, seemingly lost in time ... containing only files dating from late 1999 to early 2001. Up to about the time I upgraded to IE 6, I suppose.

Dude! Dude! Dude! There are so many cool things that I found! Such as whole web pages! Of board related things! From back in the day! I have old PMs! I have drafts of posts and replies and PMs that I was apparently once in the process of making! I have postlists! Beautiful, beautiful postlists, which are almost as exciting as posts! Profiles, spotlights, the old main page and episode guide from the Brain and also Will era! I have the black and red and blue and yet more black scheme! I have an old version of the help manual stating that Bruce is the only moderator! DUDE!

Do you want to know who was online on the 15th of March, 2000? I'LL BET YOU DO!
Curious as to who might have written a post entitled: "Do you even have a job anymore? (mild S4 spoilers)"? I'LL BET YOU ARE, WBGUY!

I found the post by Jamie, which I blame for making me a crappy PMer for the longest time. She said people were using PMs too much! So I used PMs as sparingly as possible! And then, like two years later, I had over a thousand PMs in my inbox! Heee!

Um. Ignore that last part. No, seriously though, all this stuff I found is pretty much completely useless. Very few posts, and random ones at that. But, dude. This makes me so happy. So, so happy. I am such a strange girl. I saved blank forms. BLANK FORMS!

I also found this: "what do all of you fans think of tara and willow do you want them to get ut together on screen or what personally i think keep those tongues in your mouths girlz . i would rather not know what goes on behind closed doors if you know what i mean yuk"

HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!! KELLY!!!!!

Dude, I have so many thoughts.

1.) Kelly is probably what, 18, 17? At least 16 now? And people are still making fun of her halfway across the planet! Hee! It makes you wonder though, where are earth are they making fun of you? [eyebrow]

2.) I like the feeling of finding old things. I can't explain it very well. It's not really nostalgia. Like, these files for instance. I very nearly deleted them all, without ever knowing they were there. And if I had, it would have been no loss to me. My quality of life would not have gone down, and honestly, I have no practical use for them. Yet I've been using lots of disk space to save them all for posterity, even, as I've mentioned, blank forms. "Send a PM to [user]" - dude, I could still see that form anytime I want, in theory. But I'm going to keep them for the same reason that I keep my nightgowns from when I was small, or any other type of crap. Because one day, I will randomly open a drawer, and there they will be. And I will spend a few minutes, or maybe hours, basking in that "I remember all these tiny things! At one time I fit into all these tiny things!" happy, giddy glow. Because I really like that feeling.

3.) In twenty-four hours, I will have Pants. Eeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

No, really, eeee.

Holy Crap!

Elijah Wood is only 22 years old? That's unpossible!

Oh, in other news, Happy Secular Wintry Season Event!

Eee!!!!!

CLONE!

Fin.

It is still 2003?

Man. I could have sworn it was at least 5 years from now or something. Anyway, it should be 2004, because that will totally be my year.

In other news, .

Watch the clouds sift through the irreal.

Zero days.

Eeeeee.

And time will tell us all.

Wow.

That Google ad collector thingy really seems to like that one entry I made. It's like- "Finally! She said something I understand!"

I can't think of anything to write about. Which is strange, because I've been thinking of things to write about all day. And now that I'm sitting here ... pluh. I finished all my exams. Yay! No more school for me! Until ... there's more school. Um, at the very least: it was my last undergraduate fall semester. Aw. See? You can turn anything into a milestone.

So, in lieu of whatever I was going to talk about before, let me posit a question. Does anyone know/care that most of my titles are song lyrics? Do you know which songs they're from, and if you don't, do you ever try to figure it out? And if you were fool enough to do such a thing ... were you still confused?

And before you ask - yes, I do feel that you should devote some time, every day to trying to solve the mystery that is Amy. For, am I not the most important thing there is? Of course I am. Let's continue.

As far as I've been using song lyrics as subject lines, titles, sigs, what have you, I've always done something odd. ("No !!" gasps everyone.) What I'm "getting at" or whichever lyric I find most relevant at that moment is rarely ever the one I write down. I tend to pick just one line, and the "important" part - whatever part of the song I feel might speak to my experience - is often the line that comes after the one I've written down, or the one preceding it. Sometimes, it's the whole stanza that I want to emphasize, but I'll still pick only the one line that I feel represents that piece best.

Am I alone on this? I know the Pants (i.e. "Beth the licensed driver eee") tends to have songs lyrics as blog titles, but they all make sense in context with her entry. And she credits the title and artist! Pffffffft! Where's the mystery in that, I ask you?

So, anyway, if you've ever used a song lyric in such a fashion, what were you thinking about? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING ABOUT??

It also works with question marks.

Goodnight all.

A post for mayhem. I guess !

Feet clapping like seals
I am topful of strangeness
What the fucking fuck?


Brought to you by the "Me, Trying To Sleep Last Night" Corporation.

Malfunctioning Squishie Machine.

It has overflowed into all of my dominion.

Christ on a crumpet!! It's like neverending precipitation!! NEVERENDING PRECIPITATION!

(ah ahh ahh, ah ahh ahh, ah ah ahh...)

First there was more snow. Then there was several hours of rain. So now, there is Squishie all over the ground. And I had to go outside today!!

So much exclamation.

Feast, my pets!

So, today, instead of going to the Wendy's, I decided that I might save some five dollars and go instead to the dining hall, and get a salad. This was not a good idea. They seem to no longer carry radishes, with meant that my salad was lacking in the one bit of color that I like to put on it. Also, I think they now have a different ranch dressing. The one they had before was better.

Then, there's the people. PEOPLE EVERYWHERE!!! Okay, not really. As I expected, there were far fewer people than there would be otherwise. But, still. It felt like every one of their number was staring at me. And walking in my way! I keep meaning to mention this, but lately I've felt like I'm some kind of people-magnet. And I don't mean that in a pleasant "I am attractive and intriguing and magnetic" sort of way. I mean, I literally feel like a magnet. It seems like people are constantly walking directly at me . It's pretty upsetting, really. I've measured this phenomenon, and sometimes, I look at where a person starts their walk, and where they ended up at a near collision with me, and dude. There is no way to accomplish such a thing without a massive and illogical shift in their trajectory. What the fuck!?

So, everyone was staring at me, and being drawn in by my magnetism, and my food was sub par, and I then remembered why exactly it was that I tend to take my meals in my chambers. So, I abandoned the excursion, but not before I had grabbed a sesame seed encrusted bagel. I do not like sesame seeds, so I spent a good part of the walk out picking them off and letting them fall onto the floor. Screw you, dining hall! When I managed to get out, and look at the bagel in the light of day, I saw that it was horribly stale. I also noticed some birds sitting about. I looked at them, and it seemed they looked at me, and then they flew off to higher ground.

I contemplated my stale bagel, and then began to break it apart into avian-manageable pieces, and throw it to the ground. That one bird came back. He looked at me. (It was a he - a boy sparrow.) We had an understanding. He picked up a piece and flew away again. I started hearing birds in the trees making noises. It was kind of exhilarating.

When I was finished, I walked off toward the student center. Behind me, I could hear all manner of bird swooping down to get bread. Wild, man. Wild. To think that the actions of human beings could have such a direct effect on the behavior of other species.

You see, P@ would be laughing now if I had bothered to write him an email. What's my problem? Oh yeah, the studying. It's taking far more time than I had anticipated. Stupid reading! Reading is for chumps! But trust me dude, that was funny.

You know, if that line between genius and insanity is so fine, how can you tell when you've crossed it?

Speaking of which, I still didn't get Wendy's. Instead, I purchased a submarine sandwich of turkey and lettuce. It seemed like the thing to do in the moment. It was okay, but now my sinuses are itchy. I don't think there's a correlation, but I hope the lack of spicy chicken hasn't had an adverse effect on my health. Note to self: if you get sick, I will fucking kill you!!

[insert Izzard-esque "Not really" ... "No, really" facial gestures]

I am not a book adaptation purist.

This is something that I have come to realize about myself recently. While some people get all up in arms about film versions of their favorite books ("What the fuck! His hair is supposed to be light brown, yet this actor's hair is clearly dark ash blonde!") I do not. Many of my favorite books have been made into films, and never has a movie been completely faithful to its source. However, I typically don't care, provided one thing: that it's good.

Perhaps it comes from reading mythology, of which there are a zillion different versions. But as long as the story is the same, and it's told well, then I don't care about how it's packaged. I can (in time - sometimes it takes work) learn to appreciate the book and the movie as separate entities, trying to tell the same stories. And sometimes I'll be in the mood to hear the tale told through cinema, and sometimes I'll want the written version.

In other news, I have just seen some stills from the new film, what is it, "The Return of the King"? And Minas Tirith looks Fucking. Sweet. I love you Denethor!

Screw trauma, I will need to be seeing that cinematic retelling.

And the world may be long for you, but it'll never belong to you.

I've decided that I'm going to start saying "farewell" instead of "goodbye". It's more secular. What would the shortened form of that be? "'Well"? That seems stupid. Or at least confusing, and probably not going to garner the response I want. I had my last class today. Aw.

I really appreciate Lauren keeping that countdown going. It's so useful to me!

The time from Sunday until now went just as quickly as I expected it to. It's very strange. I have a feeling that the following few days will seem very long, though.

In other news, I want to go back to sleep.

Happy Birthday!!

Yaay me! It's not my birthday, but I find the title adequate. I am feeling rather exuberant at the moment. [/Beth] I have just completed my last day of my very hard class, turning in my paper, my exam, and giving a presentation on case marking. All today! Soon I will go to my last monkeys class of this semester.

But hey, who wants to talk about Harry Potter and/or the Agricultural Revolution?! ... or case marking?

Obviously, I had no time for proper entry making yesterday. But I did read some posts at that WD place! Dear Tiny Del: I agree! I loved your post. I also believe in Father Christmas (hee) in that same way. I've tried to explain this before when talking about how I "believe" in astrology. Logically, I know that it doesn't really work. But I still believe in it. But not in the sense that I put actual faith in it. It's just a nice thing to believe, and so I do. This isn't making much sense, but at least I know I am not alone in my understanding of truth and belief, etc. And now I know why you don't believe in physics! Don't worry. They'll all see when their bicycles stop working.

Man, if only there were a more efficient means of communicating my thoughts on posts!

Speaking of birthdays, I only just now mailed Tiny Annie her card. It will probably not get there in time, and she will be left to conclude that I hate her. ... Which I do.

And the other day, the P@ was all "Hey, let's email!" I replied and was all "BLeEArGH!!"

My Pants is in N'awlins.

I'll get to sleep this evening! And on into the morrow!

Man.

Absolutely nothing happened today. I think I woke up, but that's up for debate.

Some reasons you should buy the album "Castaways And Cutouts"

1. Contains the sweetest song ever that also contains the phrase "fuck all".
2. Contains a song about one's mother being a dock whore.
3. Contains songs told from the point of view of: a normal, regular guy from California; the ghost of an infant; a French Legionnaire.
4. The guy who sings sounds like some other guy, but Stephanie likes him anyway.
5. Most of the songs contain disturbing imagery, but seem to be against Nazis.
6. I told you to.
7. Vocabulary used includes the following: wastrel, parapet, balustrade, kith, moribund, fecundity, bereft, castanets, indelibly, dram.
8. Decemberists freak the establishment.

Score!

Dude, my age is now a euphemism for winning. There is nothing cooler than that.

Anyway, I was debating whether or not I would try to make an entry every day this month, as per froquest. Hee! That word made no sense. And I decided that no, I would not. Because there will be at least several days this month during which I will not have access to a computer, and will not be concerned with finding one. Yay! Um. But then I realized that I'm making far more frequent entries, and that I suppose I should do some kind of half-assed "blog every day thing". Like you know how when Pat said he was going to answer every boq in August, but then he changed it to "Every boq in August, except that one, because I don't want to"? Well, I will totally do that. I will blog every day this month! Except for days on which I don't feel like it.

Yay! Speaking of the P@, I got to converse with him and his adorable family this day. The Steph has a remarkably nice voice - I remarked on it. I did not get to converse with his smallest, though. She was watching Winnie the Pooh. And I respect that.

In other news, I ate the last of my left over sweet-potatoes today. It was a solemn moment. And then I had to shovel snow from in front of my house. And then my mommy made hot cocoa, and we had hot cocoa. And then the snow laughed at me, and fell back on the walkways.

I promise that not every frequent entry will be this boring. Except for days on which I don't feel like it.

"Goddamn no good teenagers" by Jupe - now with 99% less irony!

It is now past 9:39AM.

Happy Amymas everybody!

I will leave you with a small blurb, which does far more justice to the fabulousness that is me, than ever I could. Feel free to comment with your own thoughts about how much joy I bring to your lives.

Twenty-three years ago today, the Led Zeppelin broke up. Humanity then entered a dark, dark age, known by most as "The Eighties".

But amidst all the perms and jumpsuits and shoulderpads, the synthesizers and cocaine, the universe did try to restore some balance. It took three years, but lo, and there was born a little girl child, and she was called Amy. And thus was some order restored unto the chaos.

Today is the day!

Actually, every day will eventually have its turn at being "the day". Think about that, it's kinda deep. Anyway, the day that today is is my last day of being a teenager. Yaaaaay!

It's about damn time. I'm very excited.

In other news, I haven't been sleeping very much lately. To wit, I've been not sleeping    quite a lot. Unfortunately, when I lack for sleep, I tend to get badly bloodshot eyes. It's kind of gruesome. Right now, one of my eyes is terribly bloodshot. Just the one though. I look like the crymonkey. In fact! Wait, wait a minute, let me check ...

Oh dude, it's totally the same eye! That's exactly what my eyes look like.

Thankfully, I will have a chance to sleep in tomorrow. ... By which I mean today. So my eye will get all better.

Do you know what you'll be doing on 9:39AM on Thursday? I do. I'll um, actually probably be headed out the door to go to class, where I will give a presentation about language revitalization. Anyway, at that time, I will turn 20. I expect you all to rejoice, ever so slightly, during that one minute. Then you can go about the rest of your days. I think that, in preparing for this day, that I will wear pretty clothes and even put on makeup. You know, so that I look kind of like an adult.

Sleep now.

Jimmy Page is such a tease.

So, the other evening, I had a dream that included Jimmy Page. No I mean, young, skinny Jimmy Page. We were sitting on a couch, and I was trying to talk to him and he was being all evasive and coy and mysterious. This is not to say that we didn't kiss a lot, though. Because, you know. Jimmy Page! Anyway. It didn't go very far. (He's no Dream Robert Plant, I'll tell you that. I suppose he was on a Dream Solo Tour, or something.) He seemed more interested in being evasive and mysterious.

So I was thinking, perhaps I've gotten too old for Dream Jimmy Page. The final days of my teenagerhood are quickly slipping through my fingers! Twenty! I might as well be dead!*

* Highlight to view: Heheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheeeeeee!!!!

Highlight if Beth: Jimmy Page is not younger than my father. Doh?

I'm wearing black, white, and aqua socks. [/random] In other news, I'm going to be doing lots of projects at the last minute in the next few days. It will rule! With tremendous apologies to Heath, I think he's given me an excuse to do schoolwork. You see I volunteered to read his screenplay, and that's like, committing to doing something. So naturally, I needed to find something to procrastinate on that. And that something wound up being schoolwork that I was supposed to be doing in the first place! That's nuts.

In more other news, I will finally be sending out a long due piece of mail sometime in the near future. Don't get excited, it's probably not going to you. ... Unless of course ... it is. [eyebrow]

2004 is totally going to be my year, I've decided. I mean, obviously! Let's hope sometime in that year I'll figure out how to make entries that make sense.

I think from now on, all my entries should be interactive. It makes them so much fun! Dream Jimmy Page doesn't know what a catch he passed up. I tell ya.

I plachu, I rydaiu mylyi za toboiu.

I hope I get Ukrainian ads now!

I've been meaning to update for at least the last ... day. I don't know. I've mostly forgotten anything that at the time I thought was important. That tends to happen often. Some points, then:

[-] In think my recent board nostalgia (like that birthday post business) is due to my realization that I'm going to be missing a lot of upcoming "4" milestones. Like my fourth birthday thread, and my fourth anniversary. And four years is a long fucking time! I'll probably get over it soon.

[-] I love getting things done at the last minute. It's so satisfying. I had a thing to write for Tuesday, that I wrote beginning at midnight, and finished three hours later. And it ruled! Because Pat-en-Steph said so. I'm Pat and Steph approved! Hee!

[-] People keep using the word "asshat" not even knowing that I am the originator. This bothers me! (Superhero Girl understands me) I blame you, Pants! Although, you know. Not really. Because you are the originator of "hee". And, damn did that go around.

[-] Just as "Jesus Fuck!" became a popular exclamation for a spell, I'd like to test out my latest blasphemy: "Christ on a Crumpet!"

[-] My falafel was acceptable to my palate. Jenny is awesome. If for no other reason (and it's not the only reason) than that she knows all the "obscure" music I've been listening to. And she approves! I'm Jenny approved!

[-] I like being approved.

[-] Milla Jovovich is also cool. I feel secure in saying this. Not only is she a Sagittarius, she also has a song with the lyric: "Receive me as a dancing monkey, and throw me a dime".

[-] MONKEY! ()

[-] Tomorrow will be Thanksgiving, my favorite non-birthday holiday. This is fabulous, because I will be gorging myself with sweet potatoes.

[-] Leave me entertaining and distracting comments which may or may not touch upon the topics I have discussed herein.

Fin.

Oh yeah. That's some good gloat.

Why you wish you were me:

Tomorrow, I will be having dinner with Jenny. We will being having falafel.

Try to carry on with your sad empty days, mortals.

It feels like something is missing.

I've been wondering if it's the board. Now now, don't get (positively or negatively, depending on your person) excited. It was just something I was thinking about the other evening. I think I will at be upset at not having a birthday post.

I've been having very strange dreams the last few nights. As is typical of most of my dreams, I wake up feeling stressed out and disoriented. I slept more than I intended to this morning. I'm tired and there's a possibility that I'll have bruises tomorrow.

Aside from all that though, I have been feeling remarkably good. Sometimes, when I walk, I break out into a smile. I don't even mind that people passing me probably think that I'm insane. Things seem to be going very well for me lately. In can't explain it. Even though not everything goes well (my adviser forgets who I am, just this evening I get a splinter), it's still just ... good . I'm talking to Grace, who works at the McCarter Theatre in Princeton about doing an internship there in the Spring. And she's been terribly nice to me. And do you know what they're doing this Spring? My Fair Lady. With a reduced cast, and a fucking chamber set orchestra for the music. How incredibly awesome is this? (Hint: assume that you, like me, are me.)

There's just ... so much good flying around me. And of course, this makes me incredibly nervous and suspicious. I wonder if all this means that I'm going to be hit my a bus or something. My brain does not understand or accept things moving in a consistently positive direction. I'm, as it were, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

So I remind myself not to get too excited.

In other news, today, my sister would have been thirty-eight years old.

Ow my fingers.

So, I have begun another show. It's back-breaking labor! It's horrible! I miss my booth. Anyway, early this weekend, we were in the theatre setting up and painting props and the like, and the stage manager (one of them - we have two) brought some to-work-to music. She only had the score to The Lion King with her, though. Stage Manager Other knows the kid that was Young Simba in the original cast. So that was neat.

I've never had any particular inclination to see The Lion King. Revised: I've had a strong desire not to see The Lion King. I just don't want to. I dislike Julie Taymor's work, and I didn't want it to fuck with my conception of the cartoon.

You should all see it if you have the chance, though. Because I own stock in Disney.

Having said this, I have been listening to "He Lives In You" nine billion times on repeat. It's my Song of the Moment. I still don't want to see the show. I just really like this music.

In related news, I learned this weekend that my mood is easily swayed by music. Though not always in a predictable fashion.

This entry will serve to replace boring entries about my stage work. Especially since I don't want to write about it, because, as I've said -- BACK-BREAKING LABOR!!

Well. Okay.

What the hell is up with this new Blogger publishing? I told you I hate change!

So. Anyway. I've been going back and forth about whether to wait for further confirmation, or whether I should just start mourning now. Guess which I picked. Anyway, you know how I can occasionally brag about my two gigabytes of hard disk space devoted to my illegal music file collection? Some near four thousand files, if I remember correctly. Yes. Well. All life is fleeting.

In my computer meltdown, they became casualties. Now, I have all of my personal files. And I'm no where near as upset as I would have been (i.e. "distraught") had I lost those, but Jesus Fuck. Some of them were very hard to come by. Some were given to me by people I'm no longer in contact with. Some of them are from websites that no longer exist. Some of them are from CDs that I borrowed and can't easily do so again. Some of them (not many) I had to pay for. All of them were acquired at some point when I wanted or needed them, and they stood as a sonic record of the past two years of my life. And that's something important. I'm big on music. I'm not terribly high on life at the moment.

At least certain persons can now stop worrying that I'm going to be indicted for my software piracy, though. I suppose that's a good thing.

A thought just came to me a minute ago, and I haven't had time to evaluate it, so it may be completely false. But if I were someone else, someone not me, I don't think I would like me very much. I wouldn't be friends with me.

On my desk here, there are doodles left by those who used it before me. These things include the letters: alpha zeta omega, a black star, a delicately drawn flower, and a part of a heart that says that in 1993, Claudia loved someone whose name has now faded from the wood. This is what I stare at when I'm sitting at my computer and my thoughts wander.

I really wish the boy were here.

And nothing else matters when I turn it up loud.

So, I'm gonna get this entry out of the way. It's a means of recapping. Last week, my computer broke. I could start it, and that was all. It was taken back to my home, where it's been in traction since. I've had to spend more than a week without it, trolling off every so often to the computer lab. I've had to make these treks before, you'll recall, when I couldn't get into my email. But this was different. This wasn't just no email, this was no internet, this was no computer . It was hell. There was a great fear that I was going to lose all of my files. Resulting in the loss of the past two years of my life. (If there are any computer nerds in the audience, they will recognize that this is not an exaggeration.) Thankfully thankfully, that did not come to pass. At least, I hope nothing detrimental has happened. I won't get to check until Sunday eve.

In addition to simply the lack of computer, I also (of course) really needed to use it last week, to register for classes and contact professors and write papers. And I didn't have a computer. It sucked balls and used teeth.

Last Saturday, almost a week ago, my friend Phillip died. We'd been friends since elementary school. He was twenty. He'd had several heart surgeries, and had a pace-maker. It was something to do with his heart, but no one is sure right now. On Tuesday, I went to the wake, and Wednesday I went to the funeral. Immediately following, I had to head back to Rutgers, because I had to take a midterm. I'll keep you posted on the outcome of that .

Condolences aren't really necessary. I'm not that upset. I was, granted, but only during the grieving rituals. I found out Saturday afternoon, and I felt very little about it. Then I went out to see a movie. My first thought actually, was "Yeah. I need to give Phil a call." Like, the news didn't register, only the fact that I hadn't seen him in a while.

I spent most of the days with my friend Toni. She was quite upset. I was not so much upset, and yet, it seemed like people were expecting me to be. I had spent the last few days wondering whether I was a cold and desensitized person because I wasn't as broken up as other people, even though I'd been good friends with Phil for over a decade. Then Toni said something that made it all click for me:

"This is the hardest thing I've ever had to do."

Oh. Right. I realized that this probably was the scariest, most upsetting thing a lot of these twenty year olds had experienced. For me, though, it's not. I've faced much harder things. I've been in far more pain. It's not that I didn't feel bad, it's just that I'd felt so much worse in the past, that this was kind of ... easy. Just one less friend I have the option of calling.

To completely turn this entry around, since all of these events and emotions are now of the past, I have a new Musical Find to advertise!

Pretty Girls Make Graves. They're like ... post-punk rock. Unfortunately, MTV and the like has already attached to them, apparently. Something I'd recommend to anyone who thinks that Evanescence is any good, to prove them wrong. Because I had the misfortune to be exposed to that particular group this week, and seriously? They fucking suck.

Thank Christ I wasn't carazay enough to try to write a novel this month.

Voting is hard !

So, I've been told that I haven't updated in a while. Jesus, what will you people ever do if I actually get a life?

Sadly, my lack of updating is not from a lack of things occurring to me. It all involves death and explosions and mystery and heartache, and everything you might think would go into a good movie, but is making my life at the moment blow hard.

I've also had many deep thoughts on random subjects that would have made wicked entries, as well as been good subjects for a blog-a-thon. But alas, I just didn't feel like writing. Th¨¦l¨­ hina gr¨¢ph¨­.

What? Oh. I was planning on making some sort of update around Wednesday or so, but not in a "updatey" sort of way. I wish that I could stop writing for a while and then jump right back into it with feeling like I need to recap what was going on in that hiatus.

So, in the spirit of that, back to the subject at hand. Voting. Is hard! Tomorrow I will get up early in the morn and I will vote for the second allowable time in my life. Yay me! So today (cutting it close) I spent some time researching the candidates and finding out where they stand on various issues and deciding which are most alike to my ideologies, and which I think will best carry out their choosen placement in office. Yes, I am a freak of some kind. Anyway, I have made my selections, and am rather unhappy with my choices for Representative. There was even a third party candidate! But I'm not throwing my vote away this time! That makes me depressed. But my choices seemed to be between a jerk, a twit, and a neurotic. So I wound up choosing the twit, even though she, I swear to Jesus Horatio, mentioned a compliment extended to her by "one of her Jewish friends". ONE OF HER JEWISH FRIENDS! I'm fucking serious.

Maybe I should just write in P@'s name. That's what I said I'd do when faced with a decision like this. I mean, I know he lives on the other side of the country and everything, but I'm pretty sure he'd still be better at the job than these people.

In other, non-political news, sometimes, I have bursts of truly divinely inspired brilliance. You have to wait around a long time to see one, though.

Fin.