Pretty

as 238 pictures.

And that's only of what we kept! Please bear in mind that the pictures got better as the shoot went on, so I hate all of them with that first shirt. I really like the ones where I'm in the purple jacket, but none of the ones where I'm smiling really did it for me, and the jacket is to ... something for a serious picture. Bah! I wound up picking 160 and 170. You can tell because they've been retouched to high holy heaven. Yay! My photographer rocks. Even though he's about twelve years old!

Incidentally, perhaps the greatest thing that I learned from this is the following: I have greatly misjudged PhotoShop. It is God. And I want to own it.

Please explain to me that I am pretty.

All these posts are written by me!

Or so sayeth the manage posts page. Man, I started making this post yesterday, and then I stopped. But I changed the date just so nokirk gets confused.

I'm utterly bored with the internet. I've spreed like a proverbial monkey on the board. I expect reproofs from any administrative types! And Blurty is cranky. So, I might as well blog like I promised my friend Pat I would. Part of my entry is about Harry Potter! I know! Again!

I'm fine after having been through my crashing ordeal. My mother is occasionally cranky about it, but then recovers herself.

I've been seeing a lot of movies lately, mostly on HBO. This is remarkable because I *never watch television*. I mean, I do but ... no. The movies seem to be of a similar genre, as well:
The League Of Extraordinary Gentleman
Underworld
Firestarter: Rekindled
Merlin
X2

The Firestarter one I didn't really watch too much of. I just thought I should give more Marguerite Moreau movies a try. Merlin I only watched half of, because I've seen it before, and I opted to watch the X-Men premiere instead. So I got to see my beloved Sam Neill and my beloved Ian McKellen both! And also my best friend, Jason Done. I also surprised myself by not disliking TLOEG. I kinda dug it! I am, however, glad that it did not have Dominic Monaghan in it, which for some reason I thought it did, and that that was in fact Shane West. He can be it bad movies, I won't care. I actually liked all these movies, for the most part. This further proves my theory that I've just been very forgiving with my entertainment choices lately.

I bought the "allure" magazine with Kirsten Dunst on the cover. The article left something to be desired. I admire her for getting a Prius, though. Good for her. There's also some things she spouted which pissed me off. Zach Braff, writer, director, and star of the movie Garden State claimed that when you're a teenager, your body goes through puberty, and in your twenties, your mind does. Which is an interesting philosophy. I think that could adequately describe Ms. Dunst at the moment. She's currently ill-at-ease with having been a child star, and doesn't know that she's going with her life what she really wants to do. And that's all fine, except that she also asserted that she "didn't have a normal childhood" -- or didn't have any, possibley.

This pisses me off to a great extent. You didn't have a normal childhood? Pardon me, but who did? Seriously? I didn't. Who are the people who had these fabled idyllic, happy, perfect, "normal" childhoods? Who? And I especially hate the "I didn't have a childhood" nonsense. You worked when you were young. That *was* your childhood. People have been doing it for a millenia. I'm sorry that it wasn't ideal, but that *was* your childhood. Some children are orphaned, some are abused, some children attempt suicide at the age of ten. And *that* is their childhood. That's it. You don't get a second one. And if you hadn't been acting, if you hadn't been overworked, emotional screwed up, whatever, you still would not have had a "normal" childhood. Because no one does. So get over yourself.

And now let's talk about Harry Potter! That was weird. That issue bothers me greatly, but I wasn't feeling upset when I started writing it, so I thought I would have trouble conveying how I felt. Not so!

The Harry Potter part is actually very short, and doesn't really even need spoiler tags. I saw the last bit of The Chamber Of Secrets playing on ... some station the other day, and I noticed two things:
1. Chris Columbus really is an asshole. I didn't even realize how much better the series was under the direction of the Mexican-porn guy, until I saw the first two again. What the hell, Chris Columbus? What the hell?
2. I think, and I feel pretty confident about saying this, that in ten years time, Bonnie Wright will be far hotter than Emma Watson. I've got a nickel to back me up.

When it rains, you also get into car accidents.

Um, yeah. I was just in a car accident about an hour ago. As my mother is injured, I've been driving her around today. Earlier, we went to pick up some prescription drugs, take the vacuum cleaner to be fixed, and dropped off some film to be developed at the local CVS's 1hour service dealy. So, one hour later, I was headed back to pick up the pictures. In retrospect, I probably should have walked, as it's only about six blocks away. But, no, I was in a car, and turned off my tiny small residential street onto a slightly larger street making a left turn (see diagram below). I looked (and this is important) both ways and saw absolutely nothing coming. I nosed out to get a clearer view, and there was a goddamn stupid SUV parked on the street, which I had to lean forward to look around, and still nothing, so I make the turn. ... And then see the white car which is barrelling towards me. I think I knew even before it happened that it was not my fault, as she (young chick, mid-twenties probably)was going far too fast for the street. Also, if she attempted to slow down, it didn't do much. So, I got hit directly in the driver's side door, and I screamed because I did not know what the fuck was going to happen. Then the window shattered and glass fell over me. Obviously, I am alright, as I am online now. A little old man who was passing by told me to turn off the engine, lest the car explode. I didn't want to move, because I was covered in shards of glass that had also fallen into my shirt and the back of my jeans. The other driver immediately came over to me and said "Oh my god! Are you alright?" Aside from some surface cuts and being a bit shaken up, I was. A police person was actually passing by on the street and pulled over, and issued cops arrived soon after. As I was only a block from my house, I called my mother and she walked over. After some minor drama of not being able to find her insurance information (it was under the passenger's seat, for some reason) she drove the car home, and I walked (I didn't want to sit, as I had glass in my underpants. Not cool.) I got home and took a shower to rinse the glass off. My mother called a cab to take her to the 4 o'clock doctor's appointment that I was going to drive her to. Then I called my sister, who calmed me downed and suggested I call my father. If I feel hurt tomorrow, I should go to the doctor, is her advice. I vacuumed out the car. I called my father (he's going to the US Open all this week) and he said he'll call me tonight to see how I feel. And, now that you mention it, my neck is starting to hurt. And so, here we are!

It has not been that long

and yet, I think I promised Pat I would update.

Thanks to Val's party I have: 1. Finally heard the music of Loreena McKennitt and Lucinda Williams. Williams I like quite a bit. 2. Removed one item from my list of People I Hate. 3. Eaten almost nothing but corn chips, all weekend.

Uh ... I actually think that's it. My mother fell yesterday, and hurt her wrist in doing so. I think it's probably fractured, so I'll be forcing her to seek some medical attention tomorrow. On the plus side, I drove her around today and she neglected to scream, hiss, and grab onto the car for dear live. Progress?

There are some days when, historically, nothing happened.

Acquitted!

Well, technically, dismissed. After sitting around in a room for two hours, my father (I was one of three people who brought lawyers) went up to talk to the prosecuter, who was an attractive (though kind of skinny) young lady, and he explained the case. Then, about half an hour later, the judge came in (here come da judge!) who was actually the head judge of the Newark courts, who was also surprisingly cool. I was the first person called up, and I didn't even have to say anything. The prosecutor moved to dismiss the case, "in the interest of justice." Because, I mean, seriously. Come on! And then she, the judge, and my father said a bunch of legal speak, and then we left! My father mentioned though that it's probably that the place will screw up the paperwork, so I should be wary.

So, technically I guess I didn't "freak the establishment" ... more like I "supplicated nicely to the establishment, at which point in resolved my problem in a surprisingly quick manner." Oh well. Same difference! Subject: Establishment. Status: Freaked.

Then a whole bunch of talk happened about my future. Nothing settled, nothing to discuss.

Also, Jess, your comment is pretty much exactly how I feel about people. Those who know me best find it odd that I have a degree in Anthropology, the study of people, when I seem to hate them so much. Well, I guess they look good on paper. In actuality -- not so much.

Have just seen Garden State .

Follow-up: am listening to "Caring Is Creepy" by the Shins. I will probably be sending some of this music to the Steph. You are warned, the Steph!

Oddly, my review of this film is pretty well stated in Elliot's blog review of this film. It was a really good movie, and funnier than I expected it to be. I walked out of the film feeling rather uplifted, which is strange because I don't actually think the movie was all that uplifting. (Pat, see re: our hypothetical action flick.) Nevertheless, it made me feel good about people in general. Of course, this could just be my typical mood lately. Since I got back from California, I've mentioned to people that I've been in a very chatty mood. The weather has been cool this week, and I've managed to feel just happy sitting around. I've posted a lot, and I've been talking to lots of new people. And liking it . What's next, making new friends? I've just been in a very friendly and cheerful mood of late. Of course, today I also had waves of deep unhappiness and paranoia, which hasn't really happened since I was so integrated in interpersonal relationships before. I realized that I still don't like most people, and I still don't want to know most of them, because most of them are stomach-turning shits. And it was nothing in particular that brought about this realization, either. Just a gradual dawning. Anyway, I hope my mood regulates itself soon, and hopefully in a way that won't leave me open and unsuspecting of hurt and disappointment. ... It was a lot hotter and more humid today.

Further thoughts on the film. This movie almost made me like Natalie Portman again. I liked her in The Professional , or, excuse me, Léon , and in nothing else since. This is not a good track record. I actually feel she's on par with Kirsten Dunst, in the sense that both have a great deal of talent, but rarely give performances befitting that talent. Kirsten has the double advantage of showcasing her talent more often, and having a personality that I feel much more at ease with. Also, the movie, despite being called "Garden State" did not feel or seem to accurately portray New Jersey, which is odd, since it was filmed almost entirely in Essex County, in which I live. Yet there was very little I recognized. At one point, the characters go into Newark, and it looked nothing like the city at all. Only sometimes did it feel "New Jersey-ian" - the architecture of the houses, particularly.

Today, I shamed myself by actually having a foodstuff advertised as "low carb." I feel dirty. But it was also advertised as a high-protein drink, which is why my mother bought it for me. My body is low on protein, as well as sugar, salt, fluids, white blood cells, and blood pressure. Heart rate and thyrois output, however, are up up up! I am, apparently, not a very healthy person. Which is odd, because I feel fine. Unless I feel like I'm going to faint or throw up, which lately is every day. So ... yay!?

Monday I'm going to court, bright and early! I hope that my effort to freak the establishment turn out well.

Ungültiger Datentyp für "

Please advise.

Oh, man, so many things! I added to my tally 7, count 'em, 7 WDers. Because Saren and Harper count as two. Because I was more convinced by their mother. Thanks though, to all those who played.

Technically, I've been on vacation, but I'm totally freaking tired right now. Thursday - plane, navigating Oakland. Friday - flat tire, wedding rehearsal, lost, dinner. Saturday - wedding, hair, carting booze (not in that order). Sunday - sleeping (?), hanging out with Kirk and Mary-Jane and associates until all odd hours. Monday - trying to squeeze in all sightseeing in one day; that is, touring San Fran, car crash, buy memory card, camera breaks, bought a lot of things on Haight. Tuesday - up at 5:30, airline is stupid, Jupe hits Vegas: hung out with the Spish (Sposh? Heeee! SpishSposh), wanted desperately to make up for the fact that I had them hanging out in an airport for hours, more plane, blistering headache, Advil. Wednesday - drive mother to work, wind up not at all utilizing my driving privilege, notified that I am a criminal at large, battery dies, Applebee's, double feature: Spider-Man 2 and The Village. Thursday - boy leaves, Jupe wrestles with spyware, Jupe drinks a lot of iced tea, Jupe considers that it may be time for bed.

Now to expound on the finer points:
Yes, I did say car crash. Don't worry, no one was injured, and no one in my party was at fault. Having not arrived in the hilly city until 1 in the afternoon, the boy and I obtained a cab in the hopes of going to a gun show he wanted to see. ... Alright, alright. Antique arms auction at the honorable Bonham's & Butterfield's. ...Gun show. Anyway! Our cabbie was most affable and delightful. Best. Cab Ride. Ever. Going down a large, 5-lane, one-way street, a large SUV cut in front of us, the woman inside making a left-hand turn from the middle lane. As no one was injured (seriously: No One!) the boy and I (being the sick sick people we happen to be) were very amused, and I took photographs from inside the car and out. I also took a picture of the street sign near where the crash took place. The street was called "DORE" but some ambitious person took some gum and plastered it over the leg of the "R," thus making it "DOPE STREET." And, Dope Street, I will have you know, is a one-way street.

The people I met were truly great people. It struck me about hanging out and Mary-Jane and Kirk's, that, allow I had "met" them only 3 days prior, and yes, the house was a bit unfamiliar, it felt like this was something I did all the time. It just felt natural and familiar, which is kind of weird when you think about it. But, anyway. Annika is still cool, and Will more than meets that standard. Freakishly, he looks precisely like photographs of himself. I determined on this trip that people fall into two categories: people who wind up looking exactly like their pictures, and people who don't. I predicted that Mary-Jane would be the former, and Kirk the later, but I was wrong on both counts. Weird! And finally, the spish. I saw Pat first, because I saw his hair first. We had already wandered through several chambers of the Las Vegas airport, and I wasn't sure when the non-ticket-having people would begin. A second, and I tell you, a second after I stepped foot into the room where they were, my head swung around, saw the hair. I said "That's them. That's totally them." and I was headed in that direction. I have Frodar.

I mentioned what movies I saw because Kirk was asking for my opinion on Spider-Man 2, and I had to tell him that I hadn't seen it yet. I mentioned it expressly so that he can heckle me into saying what I thought of it. You know, when he's not on a honeymoon. Or, I could, just, you know, post my reviews here. If anyone was interested in that sort of thing.

Also, about the criminal business, when I got home I opened a notice from the courts, informing me that there was a warrant out for my arrest, and that to avoid the embarrassment and inconvenience of being arrested (I swear to God!) I should turn myself in and have someone post my $100 bail. Jesus Fucking Christ! Fortunately, I talked with my father both before and after I read this, and he told me to ignore it. As he predicted, today I received another letter from them, mentioning that the bounty on me had been revoked, and that I should appear in court on that day they originally told me I should appear in court. Incidentally, when at the movie theatre, we could have gone right from one film to the next, but I sought out the little ticket dude, and presented him our tickets. As it was remarked - I'm so law abiding. So why am I having to put up with all this?

Finally, the boy helped me clean my computer of spyware. I updated my various programs, and had to delete one really sucky thing by hand. The one from whence my title comes, though, is Xabot, which is, wait for it! , GERMAN, and I have absolutely no idea how to get rid of it, or stop it from giving my Spybot error messages so that it can't finish. Also, my CWShredder is not working, because it has detected a variant form of the CWS trojan, which tries to prevent it from opening. Then it goes all James Bond on me, and tells me it's still able to do the job, but it will cleverly disguise its title bar with a string of random characters so that the bug won't notice it. Sadly, after it tells me this, the program invariably stops responding. Oh well. I've had the computer on nearly straight for the last two days. I will leave it off for a while and see if that makes it more compliant. I also freed about a megabyte of space on it, so it should be giving me thanks.

Also, I tried to call Beth on her birthday, but I realized that I didn't have her number at work, if that's in fact where she was, which I doubt! Anyway, I hope your birthday was very good, Pants.

Ooh, speaking of birthdays, I almost forgot: Happy Birthday to The Love Of My Life.

Oddly, I feel like being candid.

But I don't really feel like doing it here. So this will probably be garbled.

Of the people whom I love but have never met, Anne Rice is at the top of that list. The list is actually very short, and still, she's at the top. It is my fondest wish, in the sense that, if I am ever dying and am granted one final wish, it would would be to meet her and have a conversation with her. This woman and her books were, at one point in my life, a life raft. In 1994, my sister died, and later that year the film Interview With The Vampire was released. Wearing makeup, I easily passed for seventeen and my (living) sister and I went to see it. I like it a wicked great deal and was at this point also introduced to a young Kirsten Dunst. Mrs. Rice had been my (dead) sister's favorite author. She loved her then probably as much as I loved her later. My living sister was also quite fond of her, and gave me the books of hers that she had in her possession. I read The Vampire Lestat when my mother took us to Mexico for the holidays that year. It's probably the main reason why my memory of it isn't as miserable as my sister's.

After a fashion, I finished all her old books and then she released new ones, ones I was able to anticipate beforehand. I felt, and still feel, that the books she wrote in this period were utter crap. But I still read them, and I still found some value in them. In essence, I was fascinated by what she thought on various subjects, I just thought they made lousy book ideas. The sorts of things you should talk about in a conversation at 3 A.M., not publish and subject the unexpecting to. Eventually, this feeling won out in me, and I stopped buying most of her books. Until Blood And Gold. It's the best thing ever, and makes me want to read what she's written since. It's renewed my faith in and admiration of her.

Having finished this self-same book, I started thinking a lot about things that I'm not really talking about here. I decided that it had been too long since I'd kept up with her, and I decided to head over to AnneRice.com for some light (ha!) reading.

On December 9, 2002, while I wasn't paying attention, her husband, Stan Rice, passed away. Of cancer, because, of course. When isn't it? I knew that an art gallery in his name was openned in New Orleans, but I didn't know anything about this. When I read about this, earlier this evening, I cried as if I had known him. The author wrote the following:

I was married to Stan for 41 years. As far as I'm concerned, he died young. I don't even know what the world is going to be like for me without Stan. It's been "Stan and Anne" for so long that I have no concept of it. I'll go on writing, of course. Because one of the great things about being a writer is that you can write in sorrow, in grief, and anguish. You can use your emotions to make something constructive, and something perhaps that will remove these things for someone else.

Stan Rice was a poet and painter. In 1996, when I was in 8th grade, I had a random artistic moment, and painted swirls in watercolor on a piece of scrap paper. It seemed to be to take the shape of a rabbit, and I accentuated that, and wrote on the back of it a title, "Tragic Rabbit." I thought it was pretty damn good. "Tragic Rabbit" of course, was the title of a poem by Stan Rice. I like it very much, though I didn't really think I understood it. I didn't really know if I was supposed to. But anyway.

I also read a musing by Mrs. Rice on the current state of our country and the world, and I found myself very touched by it. Usually, I roll my eyes and make off-color comments at "celebrity" comments about the war or whatnot. I read an interview with Sharon Stone recently where it was most of what she talked about, and God did she sound like an asshole. But this was substantial, I felt. Perhaps it's because I already know and enjoy her style of writing, or her bend on things. What really caught my attention was her description of people. Good-hearted, struggling, and impassioned. She has written this way in her books about people in eras past, and, in fact, may be just how she she people in general. But she just makes it sound ... quaint.

AnneRice.com

Tests of manual dexterity have no place in adventure gaming.

To be fair, I am actually, for an avid video game player, really bad at video games. In addition to my many other problems, I have always suspected that I have really bad hand-eye coordination, or at least bad depth-perception, or something like that. My hands, which are very good and precise when it comes to artsy crap (although, as anyone who has received a letter from me in the past year or so knows, my penmanship has become distressing abyssmal), are useless at working complex controllers. I first had this problem whilst I was playing, I believe it was Sonic 3 on Sega Genesis. The one with the 3D bonus levels in which one could obtain the Chaos Emeralds. It took me so long how to figure out how to do it with any level of skill. By the time N64 came out, I had no hope of playing the games on it, though I had mastered many games on Playstation, Resident Evil 2 notwithstanding. Yet, at some point, I have to stop believing that it's me, and I need to start believing that the game in question just hates me. I mean, how close to I have to get to have a bullseye?!?!



Incidentally, it seems that my ftp is finally working again. (Yay!!!) So perhaps this weekend I will clean up my webspace.

Besides this evening, which has been rather trying, I had a really great day today. I was in such a terrific mood. The only thing that almost ruined it was the people, but I just couldn't stop grinning like an idiot all day. I think it's because it wasn't a million degrees today. I am not a fan of the heat.

The following is a list of movies that, for some reason or another, I really desire to see in the theaters:
Spider-Man 2
Napolean Dynamite
Harold And Kumar Go To White Castle
The Village
Anchorman: The Legend Of Ron Burgundy
Maria Full Of Grace

The movies I really have no desire to see are as follows:
Everything else.

In other news, at the end of the month, Phantom Planet are playing at the Stone Pony in Asbury Park. I should totally try to go see that, shouldn't I?

Oh crap, I'm old.

So I was watching Access Hollywood, as is occasionally my wont because my mother always has it on, even though she claims to be disdainful of celebrity nonsense. (PWI) They featured a segment on this chap, who is apparently popular and successful in several fields, and goes by the name of "Nick Cannon."

Here is my dilemma. I HAVE NEVER HEARD OF THIS PERSON. Never! This is my first experience of ever hearing or learning anything about this person. Why is this a problem? Well, I wouldn't exactly call my self well versed in the popular culture of this, our common era. However, I am always at least aware of the *names* of people who are famous, even if I do not know why they are so. The fact that this person has (supposedly) accrued a respectable amount of public interest, and yet I STILL HAVE NO CLUE WHO HE IS is greatly distressing and disorienting. It may mark my decline into geriatric stuppor.

In other news, my ARTHRITIS is doing fine, thanks. In what is most likely a side-effect of some new drugs I am taking, this past week my legs were feeling very sore and stiff, and I was having pain in my hips. It was very unpleasant as I am used to unhindered leg mobility. How do people live without bending their legs into pretzels for comfort? Anyway, I saw my doctor last night for my (still present) respiratory infection, and that when I was introduced to the term "arthritis" as it applies to me. He said it's very uncommon for someone my age. ... You think? He laid the blame on the feet of this new medication. As it is, I did not take that particular drug yesterday, and I loaded up on Advil, and I feel perfectly fine now. That was weird.

I've begun to wonder if I have some kind of rapid aging disease. Today was not a very good day. I broke a glass and lost my sunglasses, among other sundry unpleasantries.

Unrelated to all that, there's a book I read many years ago now (it's not important that I mention what it is, as I know for a fact that no one reading this has read it) which I was recently reminded had a character in it that I liked a great who was described as lying on a floor listening to music on headphones. The thing is, I haven't read the book in a while, yes? I can't, as it is, recall if that actually happened in the book, or if I made it up. Worrying that the answer may be the latter, I have thus far neglected to search for the book amidst was is no doubt tons of crap in boxes. I probably only thought of it because my brain is railing against things I should be focusing on instead.

End bizzare entry.

I am being further hassled!!!!!

Jesus! I received a letter from the Newark Municipal Court today, informing me of my New Court Date: August 11th. This happens to be my very last day of school, on which I will no doubt need to be taking tests and presenting projects and the like, and also the day when the boy is coming up for our next day departure. Thankfully, the date is not set during the time I will be in California. ... Yet . Christ.

My mother suggested that I simply pay the ticket, which, no. I will not Plead Guilty(!) to something that I didn't do. Because that's lying. But also, this is actually considered a traffic ticket, which would be recorded on my license, or something like that. I only have a vague understanding of motor vehicle penalties, because I figured I wouldn't need to know about it . Christ.

So, anyway, I have already notified my attorney*, and counsel* and I will be meeting tomorrow over lunch to discuss my defense strategies. And he's taking me for more bloodwork. And maybe some tennis. Christ.

*father

I'm being hassled by The Man!!

Dude, nice html stuff, Blogger. There's all buttons and stuff, much like writing emails. It cannot defeat my monkeys, though!
 
So, anyway, about being hassled by The Man. Everday that I go to school, I ride the Newark subway system to Penn Station. It's not actually a subway, it's a "light rail vehicle." Several years ago, before I started using it anyway, they changed from having ticket collectors on the trains to automated tellers at every station stop. You purchase a ticket, then validate it, and the validated ticket is good for 45 minutes.  Using the machine usually takes about five minutes, in which time a train might come and go. So I but tickets in bulk, 10 or 5, or however many I have the money for after I've run out. I keep this small bundle of tickets in the front pocket of my little purse. A few of you know what I mean. Anyway, there are never any people to check the tickets either on the train or at stations. And by "never" I mean, well, there have been maybe five times since the beginning of the summer that I have been asked to show my ticket. This is a somewhat disheartening state of affairs, so while I used to go the whole ride holding my ticket eagerly in my hand, I've taken everyday to pulling a ticket out of my purse, stamping it, and then shoving it back in my purse. My downfall, as it happens.
 
So, I have these used and unused tickets floating around in my purse. Usually at the end of the week or so, I clear out the ones I've used and throw them away. I thought I did this on Thursday. There was, I believe, one unused ticket in my purse, which is why I entreated some funds from my father, so that I might purchase more. So I felt around in my purse, stuck the ticket in the stamper, and put it back in. Lo, this was one of those magical days when three Fare Enforcers came on the train, acting very obnoxious as they demanded tickets in an accusatory tone. I immediatly retrieved my ticket for presentation. And as soon as I saw it, I saw something wrong. It was a ticket I'd already used, and I'd stamped it twice. I looked, and found the unused ticket, sans stamp. This is not the first time this has happened, at least once and possibley twice, I have noticed while throwing the tickets out that one seemed to be stamped twice. I thought this was a fluke, and I didn't have much impetus to go checking all my tickets, because I'm lazy, and no one ever checks them.
 
I point out my error to the fare enforcers. I show him the double-stamped ticket, and the unstamped one, and offer him both. He asked my age. I told him, and then he demanded indentification from me. I gave him my license, which he then grabbed and moved to the opposite end of the train. I spoke with one of the other guys, explained that I made a mistake, and tried to explain why. His decision? I was trying to evade payment of my ticket. Essentially, I told him it was an accident, and he told me he didn't believe me. I was then handed a $71 ticket, and they spouted out instructions about appearing in court, and by this point I had begun to cry. The little old man sitting next to me asked them if I couldn't just give them a dollar (the cost of a ticket), and the girl in front of me began rubbing my shoulder. The fare dudes refused to accept my unstamped ticket, and one told me to keep it for use on another ride, like he was giving me a gift or something.
 
When I got to the train station, I immediately went outside and called my father, bawling. Because, you know, I'm a girl. He calmed me down in a very practical way, which helped me get through  class, and then he took me out to dinner, where we discussed the system and its stupidity. So on August 30th, I'm going to court to contest my ticket, and my father will act as my legal counsel. He's good at that. After speaking to all my family members about it, I've moved past the phase of kicking myself for being an idiot (I mean, it is  my fault, but I didn't commit any crime. I'm not trying to defraud NJ Transit or the City of Newark or anything, I made a mistake.) and have moved on to being pissed off at the unsympathetic asscarts.
 
Yes, I'll be checking my tickets every day from now on. And as my father said, it's not their job to be sympathetic. It's their job to write tickets. So we'll take it to a judge, and let him decide if he believes me or not. And the worst thing that can happen is he doesn't. And then we've payed $71 for an engagement at the courts. Like an outting or something. But I'll be doing my darndest to Fight the System. Damn The Man. Fuck City Hall. Power to the People.
 
I'm still kind of upset. Comfort me.

The *real* review of King Arthur.

So today I went to the movies with my mother again, and we saw King Arthur . Her choice. This is highly odd, as my mother is completely averse to gore and violence. She liked it, which is even more bizarre. I will be checking under her bed and in her closets for pods, I assure you.

So since the film did give me some thoughts, I shall write some stuff, which may or may not have to do with the film. The parts that may will contain major spoilers, so watch out for that.

[Begin Spoiler for King Arthur. — Highlight to view]

I must proclaim first that I appreciate any movie where the Germans are evil and the heroes kill them. The two head Germans were played by Stellan Skarsgård. (! Dude, Stellan Skarsgård is evil? Totally a positive point!) and Til Schweiger playing his son, whom I remember from the totally awesome film, SLC Punk! . His acting is exactly the same, only in this movie, he has a shaved head and a braided goatee! That's actually pretty awesome. For a further note on the cast - Gawain, whom the IMDb tells me is played by a boy called Joel Edgerton, is pretty darn hot. I will add him to the list of husbands I plan to acquire. Also - how typical is it that I zero in on the blond one? Am I that predictable! I mean, Ioan (hey Stephenpat - cool "I" name!) Gruffudd I found kind of pretty, but he just didn't do that much for me. Also, the kid that played the little pagan was so freaking cute. He has the sort of look that tells me he is going to be wickedly hot in approximately ten to fifteen years. I hope I'm not going to hell for these thoughts. So I seriously hope he continues to be cast in movies.

Okay, so my main pickle with this movie is the fact that it proports to be the "real" story of King Arthur. This is more than slightly disingenuous. The premise for the movie is pretty soundly historically based. There was a Roman general named Artorius in Britain, son of a Roman officer and an Angle woman, who commanded a ... thing ... of knights from Russia. (Incidentally - least Russian looking people to be cast as Russians since Antonio Banderas. Also, the names Lancelot and Gawain really do not bring to mind images of Siberia. Call me crazy!) I have no trouble believing that these are the people from whence the Arthurian legends sprung. However, that's pretty much the extent of what's know about the real Arthur. Whether he actually united all the Britons is completely up for grabs. I don't know. This movie claims to clear up the plot line of the myths, however all it does is create a replacement mythical plot. While the people themselves may have been real, the entire plot line of the story is fictional. Sure, it might have happened that way, but then again, any one of us could come up with a King Arthur story and our chances of being correct would be just as great. Also suspect is the fact that certain parts of the movie are completely false. There was no tribe called the "Woads." The people in the film are based on the Picts, a warrior tribe that lived in the highlands of Scotland. They did tatoo themselves and use blue war paint that they produced from the woad plant. They did not have any deep or important mysticism, and they did not live in the woods. There are no historical records for anyone who might have been Guinevere or Merlin. Guinevere, in fact, probably didn't exist, as she didn't show up in the legends until the 1500s, and even then you'll note, she's not in the story very long, she runs off. I suspect she was invented because someone decided that Arthur needed to have a queen. Which, I mean, he probably did, but her name wasn't Guinevere. I also suspect that the "Woads" were created in the film because the name sounds very Olde English, and it suited their purposes better. But the tribe as a whole, and the specific purposes portrayed are fictious. Another chink in the armor is the fact that the Saxons actually did conquer Britain! Oops! Granted, they only show one battle one in the film, but it's sort of depressing to think that what they don't show you after is how they all lose.

So, if you can put all that aside, and I'm not so uptight that I can't, the movie itself is pretty decent. It's not great, though. It's not as epic as I think it would have liked to be. If you're going to provide a replacement legend for what is arguable the most famous legend of all time, you need to come out with something better than this. This should have been the culmination of years of historical research, not a pet project of Antoine Fuqua. I mean, come on. The acting was pretty decent, though. But nothing really happens. There is nothing that epic going on. Perhaps they were going for "understated" but it came off more as lacking something.

I've decided that I do like Keira Knightley. She's attractive if you don't look at her body, and there's nothing about her acting that offends me. She's actually rather good. And she got that problem with her jaw fixed! I think what was causing it was an underbite. Often when she talked, her bottom teeth showed prominently, and her jaw appeared to protrude too much, and it caused her to have a slight whistling lisp. It's not very pronounced, more like the sort of thing you'd only notice after an hour of watching her: "Hey, is there something kinda wrong with her jaw?" But in this movie it seemed to be just about completely gone. Either she got a jammin' speech therapist, or maybe she had corrective surgery. Either way, definite bonus point. I also liked her character in the film. I liked that Guinevere wasn't a stupid slut, as I feel is how she's typically portrayed. She zones in on Arthur, and she's pretty set on him. Even though he's a lot more reserved and soldierly. The expression on Clive Owen's face when she goes to see him at night is awesome. And Lancelot, who is supposed to be Arthur's closest friend, does like his girl, but instead of fucking her, dies saving her life. Now that's the kind of friend I'd like to have. It's really kind of a downer when Arthur's girl and best friend betray him. I mean, dude! You don't do that shit to King Arthur! What's the matter with you? So this version was, I felt, definitely an improvement. The relationships were carried out with much more subtlety. Incidentally, the most played line in the movie, "I won't let them touch you" is actually not in the film. Probably because the real line would be hard to market.

The one scene on the river was pretty sweet. It's the sort of scene that's so well done it could and should become classic. If the whole movie carried the feel of that one scene, it might have achieved the epicness it was going for. As for the battle scenes, perhaps the reason my mother was fine was that they weren't really gorey at all. For the amount of people that die in the movie, there's actually very little gore shown. There's some blood splattered on faces, but when there's an axe blow to the chest, there's not much blood and they cut away quickly. Most of the injuries occur under the camera. Oh, there is another scene that's really great, when the Saxon infantry is standing in the fog, and the arrows appear in front of them, and then the horsemen sweep through them and disappear into the fog. Very well shot. This movie also displays some pretty good battle tacits, so that was cool.

[End Spoiler]

In think that's all. I'm gonna go look up pictures of Gawain.
Ex cellent.

I'm just a squirrel.

1991. Age: the same age you were.

I didn't really plan to write reactions to, or reflections of, every year in the nineties, and the fact that VH1 is showing two episodes a night is really going to make this fall apart ... sometime tomorrow, probably. Anyway.

I seem to remember infinitely more about this year than I do the previous one. I wonder if this is cause or effect of the theory I've had for some time: that six is the last age that you're "little." You're still a kid, you're just not a little kid. Seven just sounds older. According to my recollection, it feels older, too. Memo to the Stephenpat: your child is turning seven. I guess I'll have to start writing to her about stock reports, or something.

This year, according to television, was the start of Gulf War I. That seems about right, but I don't remember anything about it. All I remember was that it was always on television, though I wasn't sure what was happening. That, and my jean jacket with the button on it that said "Don't Mess With The US." I was adorable walking propaganda.

More importantly, that year I started taking jazz and tap lessons in addition to ballet. Or maybe it's just when Miss Diana began to play the C&C Music Factory song *repeatedly* as we warmed up. Even then, I was pretty sure that the "rap" of the song was perhaps the stupidest thing ever. I can't count how many times I heard that, and "Rhythm Is A Dancer."

Speaking of music, this was also the year that I first saw the video for "Smells Like Teen Spirit." Or maybe it was '92. I always thought it was, but the show, placing a segment on grunge in this year, has made me doubt that recollection. Anyway, no matter what year it actually was, it's interesting to me that it actually did change my perception of music. I remember my cousin Denise hurrying excitedly to where I and her brother were, telling us that we had to check out what was on MTV. (I think this was '92. Oh well.) We all quite literally had the reaction of "what in the hell is this?" Only, we probably said heck. Because we were small and innocent. After that dispelled, I had the distinct impression that this music was new, and that it just might be great.

I love the 90s.

1990. Age: 6

So, I forgot that the VH1 series started tonight, and I missed the first fifteen minutes of it. Oh my God! Do you think they'll show it again?

Had to get that out of the way. My life, at this point in time, can pretty much be summed up by two things: slap bracelets and New Kids On The Block. I'm glad I found out what happened to the slap bracelets.

I never knew where that "I've fallen and I can't get up" thing came from.

I think I do love the 90s. The first half, anyway. I wonder where the switch occurred, and I stopped being fond of the decade. I guess I'll find out! I'm betting it's when I became more cognizant.

Jesus! Harry Potter again ?

Yes. It's like a floodgate! You cannot close a floodgate once it has been opened! Today I would like to discuss three distinct points. They range in topic from book and movie three to book five. The other books I've pretty much ignored. You have been warned. For those of you sick of reading about Harry Potter, here is a monkey:

[Begin Spoiler for Harry Potter. Really. — Highlight to view]

• Point the first. The comparison between Richard Harris and Michael Gambon in the role of Albus Dumbledore.
First of all, let there be no mistake, Richard Harris is dead whilst Michael Gambon is alive. This is undoubtedly the first difference between the two actors. This seems to be more than just an ill advised quip, though, it speaks to the way they portray the character. I have said before that I prefer Michael Gambon, and this is to some extent true. I feel he better captures the inner life of the character. He gets the sort of quirky humor that makes me like Dumbledore so much. Because he's like me!! Weird yet funny! So, yes. However, another important part of the character is the figure he cuts: FULL OF AWESOME AND FEARFUL POWER! This is important. He's silly and fun, yet if you blink at him wrong, he will fucking kill you! He also reminds you of the grandfather you liked. This is a very complex combination of traits, and it's understandable that one actor couldn't get it. But it occurs to me that both men, melded together, would make the perfect Dumbledore. I would never instinctly run to Michael Gambon for protection against my enemies - I would to Richard Harris. I would not be immediately charmed and impressed by Richard Harris - I would by Michael Gambon. I've worked it out: Harris had the better beard and the better height. You see what going silver did for Gandalf, right? In the beard, there is power. So someone needs to get Michael Gambon somes lifts and some frosting gel, and he'll be all set.

• Point the second. Why the time-turner scenes in the movie were far superior to the ones in the book.
I know, right? The movie better than the book? I must be ill. But no, think about it. Now, I don't know that much about time-continuum paradoxes, but it seems to me that the events in the movie are far better resolved in the movie, and it boils down to one thing: Macnair's axe. In the book, his axe is not felled in the second go round. This is important! Hermione is constantly gibbering about how they can't change time, that bad things will happen, but more changes in the book than in the movie, where they seemingly do more to affect the past. In the movie, time seems to be on a loop. The past selves are affected by what the future selves have already done. Or, er ... will do. I don't know, man. Buckbeak is never actually killed in the movie; the axe was always falling down on a pumpkin (ack!). Time is already on a loop, and things have already been resolved. This of course, brings up the question of, "what if Harry and Hermione realized everything had already been resolved and decided not to be that .. active? Since they knew things would already have worked out?" But then, of course, that would have already have happened in the past and ... well, you see the paradox. Anyway, in the book, Macnair's axe does not fall in the revised version of events. This means that something has definitely changed. Buckbeak was actually saved from being killed. So, how does this affect the present-time Macnair, and Fudge? Would he suddenly lose the memory of having killed Buckbeak? Lost the memory of swinging the axe? Wouldn't the alteration in the fabric of time have MADE HIM EXPLODE?!?!? So, in conclusion, while I cannot say with certainty that the logic of the time loop in the film is flawless, it's already improved on what's in the book. Also, you may note that time does loop in both at the scene on the lake. That's just bad continuity on the book's part.

• Point the third. Why Hermione is totally destined to have twenty of Ron's red-headed babies.
Okay, so I'd first like to point out that any debate as to whether Hermione should be eventually shagging Harry or Ron is completely dependent on not knowing who Hermione likes. It should be really really obvious that Ron likes Hermione that way , and if you didn't figure that out well, you're lying about having read the books. I will explain at length the difference between Ron's dislike of Viktor Krum and his dislike of Ginny's suitors if you need me to. You shouldn't. Harry, from everything I have scoured over (er, not that I have) seems to have no interest in Hermione. As more than a friend. I honestly do not believe that J.K. Rowling has planned on writing in a love triangle situation, and believe that though this is kind of obvious foreshadowing, that this is what the foreshadowing predicts. The case then, is proving who it is Hermione likes. It's totally Ron, people. Observe the following from Book 5:
Hermione is counseling Harry on his relationship WITH ANOTHER GIRL. When she gets upset, is she jealous? Hardly. Page 505. "'Harry, you're worse than Ron .. well, no, you're not,' she sighed." Ron is blind to that fact that Hermione TOTALLY WANTS HIM TO ASK HER OUT!

[End Spoiler]

I should stop writing now. I have failed to prove my point!

Those tigers are typecast, man.

So today I went with my mother to see the movie about the tigers who are brothers. So fucking cute. Wait, I'm getting there. So, this is the Wellmont theater in Montclair, which is run by the same people who run the movie hut where we saw the Harry Potter picture and I had a hideous time. However, since this is Montclair, it's a trillion times better than anything in my town. That's just the way of things. I think the kids who worked there were retarded. Not physically, or anything. They were just Bertin' around like nobody's business.

Until about ten minutes before the movie started (don't ask - my mother gets anywhere at least half and hour in advance. You just never know!) we were alone in the house. Then! This German couple came in with their four small children. I think you can see where I'm going with this. Anyway, the largest blond, bespectacled boy announced "This theater is very small!" I felt like saying "So are you." Anyway. He and his smaller brother proceeded to be very odd, but the girls were fine. And they quieted down once the movie started. Then another group with about five small children came in and sat in front of us. The extremely small viewing group made it feel like a casual environment, so I was almost at ease with asking the children in front of us had emotional problems, as they kept emitting strange noises at interverals. Anyway, this did not make for an unpleasant viewing of my movie about tigers. It was just neat people watching. Of the movie itself...

[Begin Spoiler for Two Brothers. — Highlight to view]

If you plan to see this movie, know, it's all about the tigers. They were awesome. They had such great emotional range! Really! Far more than Guy Pearce, at any rate. They would totally do well in romantic leads! And I cried when they were reunited. I know! I know, I'm such an utter girl. Also - something you need to know going into pictures about baby animals is that there's inevitabley going to be parent murder. So, that was real depressing.

Actually, the whole movie, aside from the tigers, was real depressing. There was not a single likable human character. It was enraging. If it hadn't been for the tigers, it would have been a crap ass movie about very unlikable people. And one scene of artsy tiger sex. Which was just confusing and disorienting.

[End Spoiler]

After dinner we were out wandering about and we saw a girl I took an acting class with my first semester. She was from Israel. It was neat and fun. She introduced me to her fiance, with whom she was having dinner. He seemed of an amiable sort.

My next trip to the cinema will be tomorrow, when, on our nation's birthday, I will be taking my mother to see Fahrenheit 911 . This should be a blast. Wish me luck! And remember, everyone except resident aliens, vote Kerry 2004.

In other news, Sharapova beat Williams. SO FUCKING GLAD!

The number one reason why I need to become famous and work prolifically.

The people I've always dreamed of working with keep dropping dead at random times.

I am nothing of a builder.

But some guy asked me if I was an architect. Hee! It's the portfolio. I said no, and then he asked me if I "drew." I said yes - because that's not really a lie.

This is interesting!

Amy Highway Fame City 3 Bankruptcity 12 Family Farm 52 Childbirth Hospital 158 Wealthville 287 Please Drive Carefully

Username:

Where are you on the highway of life?

From Go-Quiz.com

Not bad, just interesting!

Incidentally, I will tell the reason Season Six sucked in the plainest of terms: They dropped the show's gimmick. This was bad, as it destroyed the entire premise of the show. Noxious (I think) is the one who said the 'switch up' for S6 was going to be the theme "Life Sucks." Well ... yeah. That's always been the theme of the show. Only the incidences of life sucking were manifested in the form of evil demons that needed to be physically fought. It was clever because it laid bare what most people experienced; whereas the "demons" most people fight are internal, here they were external. Then, in S6, they internalized all the character's problems, leading to the complaint that many people had that it felt like a "soap opera." The alienating factor is that while Buffy used to embody an average person's experience with life in a more literal way, now she was a person with a really unpleasant life - who also, in her spare time, fought monsters for some reason. Who can relate to that?

It's nice to see Samantha Mathis getting work again.

Man. I totally thought I posted this, but I had it saved as a draft. I would have made this entry "yesterday", but apparently my computer is in desperate need of more memory. As such, AOL decided to throw a tantrum for most of yesterday and would not let me online.

So, anyway, Sunday and Monday nights I watched the TNT world premiere of 'Salem's Lot, based on the novel by Stephen King. There was a post on the WD about it, and I posted some reflections there, but the post was a bust so let's pretend I didn't.

I read the novel 'Salem's Lot when I was in sixth grade. I liked it very much. Possibley because it was about vampires, but also because it was just well written. For some reason my school system thought Stephen King was what you should read in middle school. I was ahead of the curve, I suppose. Whatev! Anyway, the novel contains the most definitively suspenseful sequence I have ever read. What follows are spoilers.

[Begin Spoiler for 'Salem's Lot. — Highlight to view]

In the book, Mark Petrie is knocked unconscious and when he wakes up, he's locked and tied in a bathroom. In the film, the struggle isn't as great, but I realize they had a lot of film to go through, and 10 minutes watching someone try to get out of ropes would probably make for ass boring television. Instead they upped the suspense by having him need to get the gags and such off because help is right outside the house. And the evil guy is coming up quicker. It was still great. Mark Petrie is such a great character. I loved the kid that played him in the film, though I had envisioned him blonder and geekier. Oh well. I particularly loved his final scene. I'm sure make-up assisted the effect, but he looked seriously wan and shell-shocked and haunted. It was great. They also changed the ending. It was an upnote. Well, relatively. More death, but a better finale. The tone of the ending was something that had bothered me.

Sutherland and Hauer were good too. The first was good being overwhelming creepy, and the second is good as quietly evil. So they created a nice sense of menace together. And Andre Braugher kicked all sorts of ass. He really is a terrific actor. I totally want him on my side if my town is taken over by the evil undead.

There are only a select few things that I didn't like about the movie, and most of them were in the second half. And the very beginning. Rob Lowe's voice-overs made me giggle. He really didn't sell the words, and King's words are pretty cool. He was good in the straight acting (though I never would have picked him for this character) but just ... stupid in the voiceovers.

The other major niggle - the vampires were way inconsistent. Sometimes (in the case of Mathis and Hauer, and all the main characters that get vamped, really) they were totally lucid and normal - like people. But what was with the eyes? They had a good hypnotic effect going, but then why did some of them start glowing green? Heads up effects crew: NOT THE TOMMYKNOCKERS! Wrong King flick! Oh well. Also, towards the end, the mass of them started acting like zombies. The fuck? They hit two with the car! They're not zombies! Why are they all sluggish and unresponsive suddenly? In addition - the "wedding" scene I felt lapsed into cheese. And I was disappointed. By contrast, I loved that Ruth and Dud got together. It was sweet. I have so many issues.

Finally, what was up with Samantha Mathis's hair once she was dead? Why was it crimped in certain places? I understand that she was ... done up, but what the fuck? Barlow has a crimping iron? Weird, man.

[End Spoiler]

So that's that. It's over, but I'm glad I saw it. It entertained me. Really need to read that book again.

I'm sure there are other things I meant to talk about when I was initially going to post this, but I've forgotten them. So, in their stead, I will say: "Dance With Me" by The Sounds is quite good. It's not as dance, and more rock than its chorus would suggest. So, thanks VH1.

Stacy Ferguson!

Oh my goodness! So, I was watching the Maxim Hot 100 yesterday, right? Incidentally, I find it superior to the FHM top ... whatever because Kirsten Dunst is listed much higher. That's using your noggins, people!

So, anyway, they feature this girl who is called "Fergie" perhaps someone has heard of this because Lord knows I haven't. She apparently sings with a hip-hop group of some sort? Anyway, I have no idea what that's about. But! But! In this highlight of her that they have, it is revealed that her name is actually Stacy , and that she is, in fact!, one of my favorite characters from one of my favorite childhood shows!! Kids Incorporated! AWESOME!

She looks completely different. She's less blonde, more tan, and she was wearing an appalling amount of makeup. And I don't care for her choice of musical genre. But this news makes me very happy, because I loved her on this crappy show when we were both younger people, and now she is rising into moderate stardom. That's great! And apparently she's hot!

I wonder what happened to my other favorite, Renee. In the show, they were sisters. Renee was replaced by The Satan, whose terrible acting, stupid head bopping, and lemon-squinted ugly head totally ruined one of my most beloved shows, and began my most long-standing vendetta. You'll get yours someday, Hewitt.

Also, I wrote a letter to the man described in my previous entry. I am INSANE? I don't even drink and I do things I regret in the morning. Yeesh!

New important mission!

Dude, what's up with the every-day entries? It won't last. I guarantee it! Incidentally, the "guar" in "guarantee" and "guard" and such was, in Old and possibley Middle English, pronounced "gwar." This has been your day's pointless trivia.

But now, for the dreadfully important news! Jason Done needs to be cast in a lot of high profile movies, right away. Because he is hot. Thank you.

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!