Full day.

Yesterday I:

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

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

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

Incidentally, I have curly hair.

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

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



Aren't you glad you read this post?

I'm preparing to be furious!

Apparently they are making a new movie version of "The Lorax". The Lorax, in case I haven't mentioned it, is one of my most favorite things in life.

I hope they don't ruin it the way that absolutely every other Dr. Seuss movie in recent years has been utterly ruined!

Sometimes, I'm kind of a dick.

1. I just used ablative absolute in an official correspondence. Heeeeeee!!!

2. Also I ate all your cookies. Sorry. It somehow escaped my attention that people really like cookies, and will want them when you offer them. On the other hand, though, it turns out I still need to work on my ratio of flours, so.

Congratulations, Chamber of Secrets!

You are no longer the most boring Harry Potter movie!

[Begin Spoiler for HBP Review, in which I say "UGH" a lot. ... Metaphorically. — Highlight to view]

If you haven't seen it yet, maybe you shouldn't read this. I mean, I don't know. I don't want to ruin things for you. I've seen a lot of very positive reviews, and much internet chatter saying that this was "ZOMG Best One Ever!!!" and, frankly, you may agree. I don't want to take the possibility that you may agree away from you. But me, I'm profoundly disappointed right now.

The profundity of my disappointment is due, in main, to the fact that this is the first time it's happened. This is the first time I've sat in a theater, watched a Potter film, and as the credits began to roll thought: "I didn't like it. It wasn't good. I am disappointed." And in fact, it started before that. At some point I started to fretfully realize that the film wasn't going well. I had the horrible suspicion that it wasn't good, and I wasn't going to walk away liking it. I tried to shove that feeling down, but it would not be denied.

And just so we're clear - I'm not talking about things cut or things changed. I do not care. Frankly, I think they could have cut more than they did. If I've said it once, I've said it (and you've read it) a thousand times: I am not a book adaptation purist. In fact, and this may be the linguist in me, I sort of love seeing the changes and the omissions - the translation of the story from book to screen. Book and screen are two languages I'm fluent in, so this is a thrill I can't as yet receive from actual languages. As a stand-alone entity, the movie is mediocre. As a translated retelling of the book, it's mediocre.

That's the thing - it's not flat out bad. And, of course, being Potter, there were parts of it that I liked and enjoyed seeing brought to life, and I'll probably talk about those further on if this doesn't get tediously long before then. But the whole of it did not hang. Altogether, it was dull and lackluster and boring. Even the explosions felt muted and clinical; how the fuck do you make SHIT BLOWS UP into something boring? I'm not sure, but this film managed it.

The problem is, I suspect, two-fold: lazy screenwriting and ineffective directing. Let's start with the first. HBP is rather plot-lite. I mean, in terms of the overall fight of good vs. evil. The book makes up for with a lot of (sometimes awkward) color. I think this is why I can't decide where HBP falls in my book rankings. I love it, but it's ultimately filler. The script takes two plotlines: the learn-about-Voldemort plot and the teen-romance plot, and half-asses both of them. The memory scenes felt like filler, but then so did all the other scenes. Which one is the A-plot?

Then, there's the criminal misuse of Alan Rickman. At the end, where he reveals himself to be the Half-Blood Prince, my eyes rolled of their own accord, and I had to suppress a WHO CARES. Because, honestly, who gives a shit at that point? The whole thing is a side-note, there's no suspense regarding the Prince's identity, and it adds nothing to the story. If it weren't the title of the goddamn movie (which should have been a hint), they would have been better off cutting it entirely. Finally, it was a stupid coda to a scene that was already robbed of most of its emotional resonance.

I'm going to slip in here that the best performance of the film was given by Tom Felton, hands down. I don't think that he, personally, could have done anything more to make his part awesome. But his part, too, was ineptly pared down. From what I can tell onscreen, things seem to be going pretty well and then after a small setback suddenly Draco's sobbing in a bathroom. It makes his emotional turmoil at the end feel shallow and not fully convincing. If not for the aforementioned skill of Mr. Felton, I probably wouldn't have cared at all.

And here's the thing: WHO CARES? Well, I do. Or did, anyway. I cared walking into the theater. I've been caring for over a year waiting for this movie to come out. Hell, I've been caring for half my life at this point. If they couldn't keep my sympathies, they did something wrong.

Now I'm going to talk about directing. And I'm going to talk about directing with the authority that I've actually directed stuff, and because this is my blog and you love me you'll refrain from pointing out that I've never directed anything on film and therefore sound like a jerk. Good deal? Alright. So, I've decided that I don't think David Yates is a good director. This makes me sad because I would really like it to be otherwise. And ... I don't know. I'm not saying he's Chris Columbus by any means. He's not bad like that. But I feel he may be out of his league trying to direct something on this large a scale. I was hoping that all he needed was a chance to find his footing, but this film took all the things that didn't work in Order of the Phoenix and magnified them, which means all that's happening is he's just getting more confident with his mistakes.

If you watch any interviews with David Yates, you'll find that he's very unassuming and soft-spoken. I feel like he projects that personality onto his work. There were literally times when I was struggling to hear the dialogue. And his big thing seems to be reining the actors in - pushing for more subtlety. And I'm all for that! I enjoy subtlety in acting! But when subdued acting is your raw material, you need to do more to bring the audience into it. The transitions here are dead. The pacing is terrible. The beats are stilted and awkward. Like with OOTP, I found that I liked scenes individually, but it was a pain and a half getting "into" them. And GOOD GOD save me from David Yates and his wide shots. I'm serious. I get what he's going for, I think. Putting the audience at a distance from the characters makes the characters seem more intimate with each other. But it doesn't make the audience intimate with the characters. Sometimes we need to get right up in their business to remember why we like them. And always, techniques in moderation, please.

Also, for all the "humor" supposedly in this film - no one laughed. Like, ever. At one point I remember finding something funny and wanting to laugh, but feeling stifled by the fact that no one else was laughing. Frankly, Daniel Radcliffe does comedy really well. Harry on Felix Felicis was hilarious. And yet, awkward. Again, the beats. Jokes were over and gone before people realized they'd been made. David Yates may know how to get good performances out of actors, and I'll admit I think he does, but he has no idea how to craft a scene.

The cinematography, on the other hand, was gorgeous. This is probably one of the prettiest films I've seen in some time. But it wasn't put to good use either. It was like a mirror: shiny, cold, flat, and with no life other than what you project onto it.

Also, just throwing this out there: the score didn't match up with the action. I don't know whose fault that was.

I will have to admit, though, that the Inferi scene was bad-ass. I jumped, even though I saw it coming. I was nearly on the edge of my seat, but at that point, I was already suffering from numb disappointment, so it was hard to really live in the moment.

Dumbledore's death scene was well done, but felt somewhat inorganic and emotionally manipulative after the flatness of everything that preceded it. Oh, hands raised in solidarity! Lights in the sky! Haunting music! Again: WHO CARES.

And what in the Christing Christ was that line about Harry having never noticed how beautiful Hogwarts was? Aside from perhaps the Burrow, Hogwarts is the only beautiful place Harry has ever seen. FAIL, Kloves.

[End Spoiler]

I guess I'm done for now. I feel rather incredibly down. So, I'm going to go make what may be the best cookies known to man. If you read all this, and especially if you reply, please let me know if you would like me to send you one.

Dear insects.

Stop living in my house, or I will make you.

I'm serious.

In other, non-death related news.

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

Approximately like so:



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

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

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

What. the. hell.

... what the hell.

RIP King of Pop.

Ha ha, very funny, Twitter.

I've done very little in the past few days besides watching the situation in Iran.

Well, that's true in a sense, but in another sense I've also been demolishing my bedroom, writing a novel, and having food poisoning. But none of those things involve being too far away from the computer, so.

There's so much information. I've heard terrible things, and recently I've heard some very good things, but it's hard to know what's real and what isn't. I also feel anxious and sad because there's not much I can do. I did send an email to His Excellency the Ayatollah Khamenei today. So, there's that.

I don't see a lot of people talking about this, and I don't know what you know, but here's a bunch of links:

Good ol' Wikipedia
Why you should care
A flyer about what's going on
A coup in three steps
5 reasons to doubt the election results
The Huffington Post
Andrew Sullivan
I don't know what hashtags are, but maybe you do
ontd_political
Why We Protest
Flickr

If you use Twitter: a very simple thing you can do to help is change your Twitter location to Iran, and your time zone to GMT +3:30. This makes it harder to figure out who is and is not tweeting from Iran, which makes the users who are doing so less vulnerable to the government agencies trying to shut them down.

If you're feeling especially charitable, you can set up a proxy for Iranian users.

Worldwide Protests this Saturday

Stop what you're doing, because this is infinitely more important.

You may ask what could be more important than whatever you were just doing. I will tell you. This post is about BABY BUNNIES. As in the BABY BUNNIES that are living in my garden.

And now without further ado, BABY BUNNIES.



This is mommy bunny.



These are BABY BUNNIES.



These two like to hide and cuddle.



This one craves adventure.


... As you were.

Why I simultaneously need, and do not need, a Twitter.

First and foremost, I don't want a Twitter. I dislike most websites that fall under the heading of "social networking." Also, I don't care what I do all day. If I were doing anything interesting enough to warrant frequent documentation, I wouldn't have the time.

Sometimes, though, I think about what I would write in my hypothetical Twitter. Or something will happen, and I'll think it's just the sort of thing I would Twitter about. You know, stuff that's not really blog-appropriate. I thought about compiling some of these things, and making a blog entry about Things I Would Have Twittered, but I never actually write them down, and then I forget about them and no longer care.

Furthermore, while I may want to write these things down, I don't exactly want people to read them. I don't want people to follow me, I don't want to follow anyone, I especially don't want to follow anyone famous, and I don't want to be in any way connectable or findable. (I totally Googled some people I knew in high school yesterday.)

On some other hand, though, Twitter would provide a great venue for cryptic one-liners. And those are my favorite. I would be utterly delighted to give my inscrutable gibberish as little context as possible. I am positively itching to let you know everything while letting you know nothing!!

... It is not and has never been a mystery why I have trouble socializing.

Can't socialize -- obsessed with crappy book series.

I drooled on myself while I was laughing. It was undignified.

FURSPLOSION!!

I have to admit that I've been a little worried about New Moon. What with the closed set and the new director and the bigger budget and the use of colors other than blue, I worried that I might have to take it seriously. That it might be ... I don't know, kinda good? Maybe? Good enough to negate its value as a B-movie cult comedy classic at any rate.

This evening I saw the teaser trailer. WORRY CURED.

Storyteller.

I have been extra thinky lately, and I feel a desire to write. Of course, my usual problems with writing still apply, mainly a crippling fear of plot.

So here's what I propose: I'll write a story for you! Yes! You. All you have to do is tell me what story you would like me to tell to you. Then, in the reasonably near future, I will write that story. And ... blog it, I guess.

Open-ended, time-wise. First come, first served. Be as specific as you dare, for I have short-term imagination loss.

status

In the good news pile, my internet is repaired. Yes, just today. It ... please. In other news, though, I have the plague. But probably not swine flu, and I don't think I will become a zombie, so that's pretty good. Of course, I frequently have the plague. I'd estimate that I have some sort of respiratory infection or inflammation approximately 40% of the time, I just don't tell you about it. It would be like saying, "By the way, I still have fingers." But I mentioned it last time so I feel the need to tie up loose ends. Also it relates to my next two points:

- I was going to make a post for Mother's Day which I'd been planning to write since last Father's Day. I didn't, because I was busy having plague. So when I write it eventually, pretend that it's adorably timely.

- I will be house sitting this weekend, and besides watching a lot of HBO OnDemand and eating less healthily than usual, I will probably be bored. I was going to suggest you call me! You know, if you want to geek out about your new iPod, or if you've had a baby (or want to talk about Lost, whichever), or if you have an international calling card you're desperate to waste, or what have you. It could have been fun! But I kind of can't talk because I have plague. So I hope there's reruns of True Blood.

Things that are currently killing me.

In no particular order:

1. My sinuses. It's too early to tell if I have an ear infection, a cold, swine flu, or if I just breathed in too much pine tree (which may lead to one of the preceding), but the left side of my face is not happy.

2. My uterus? I don't even know what body parts are at issue, but I've been having lots of pain in the lower abdominal region for a few weeks. And no, it's not that thing that women get. Or, I don't know, maybe it's that thing that some women get, me being one of those women. Maybe I should have mentioned that this one was going to be about stuff growing on my girl organs. OH SORRY. Anyway, this is not a new problem, but if this is what it is, it's certainly a new intensity.

3. Money. Or rather, my lack thereof. You know how poor you are? I wish I were that poor right now.

4. My mother. Enough said.

5. The internet, general. For the past three days I have had a slow, wonky connection. This sucks because not only am I on the internet all the time, some of that time spent on the internet I'm actually doing important things that may cause me to be less poor. Also because if I see "Page Load Error" one more time, I may have to do something crazy like go watch television or maybe even read a book. I could have been doing both those things on the internet!

6. The internet, specific. Take a look at this. In the immortal words of the great Christian Bale, NO, FUCK NO!

and, as always...
7. Other people. Hell, it is them.

Success!!

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

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

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

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

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

She will be 11.

Update for the sake of updating.

I am still sad, and nothing has felt interesting enough to blog about, but I figured it was time to bump the dead cat post from the top of the list.

It was suddenly a billion degrees over the weekend, and I was ill. I figured the best thing to do would be to annihilate Madagascar with Fluffy Kitten Amoebic Encephalopathy, but the only time I managed to get them, Canada screwed me over by closing its borders and developing a vaccine. Curse you, socialized medicine!

Thank goodness for New Moon filming, though. It has kept me up to my ears in lulz, despite the super secretness of the production. If you ever wondered what happened to Merry's hair from LotR, don't worry. It went to a good home.

Speaking of filming, I may have teared up. I'm not saying definitely, but it might have happened.

Easter Lily.

2002 - 2009


After a wonderful month followed by a horrible week, Lily died on Easter. Perhaps I never appreciated her well-developed sense of irony.

Radio woes.

Do you remember the last time I talked about radio? It turns out it was almost a year ago. But I still listen when I drive in my car! Which means that I listen to the radio at least three days a week, often more!

Here is my tale of woe: I may have to break up with WRXP. I may have to do this because WRXP may be turning into K-Rock.

Now, the last time I talked about K-Rock was here. At the time I was very pleased with it. Although I didn't expressly mention it, that turned out to be very short-lived. When I was in high school, I referred to K-Rock almost exclusively as "Douche Rock." On the surface I did this to annoy my guy friends who were enamored of it. In reality, it was so called because the entire station was nothing but a cesspool of bad music, casual misogyny, and obnoxious djs designed to appeal exclusively to the young male in extended adolescence. Actually, I can sum it up in two words: Howard Stern.

It was entertaining for a while, as described in my previous entry. Then they decided to trumpet their resurgence with a new ad campaign that featured mostly naked girls, inviting listeners to check out the station's online galleries, where they could surf until their hands cramped. And they expanded their 90s-based repertoire with whiny screamo.

But no matter, for I had my new radio boyfriend, WRXP, New York's Rock Experience.

Fast forward to ... I don't know, last month, maybe? K-Rock is off the air! I know! It has been replaced with a station where I can listen to all those new Britney Spears songs and actually find out what Lady GaGa sounds like, if I so choose. On the surface, this should be, if not positive news, then at least neutral-leaning-towards-positive news. I mean, I only ever listened to it if all the other stations were simultaneously playing commercials and/or U2. (Update on that, incidentally: They never fucking stopped rhapsodizing about U2, so I actually do kind of hate them now.)

But about two weeks ago, I was driving towards my home, and an ad came on, aimed at former K-Rock listeners. It promised them a new home at WRXP, as well as a familiar voice: one of the K-Rock djs would join the station, and do a ridiculously long shift in the afternoon/early-evening. Ugh. ... Ugh. I was already mildly angry from a few days prior when they had played a song by Fall Out Boy. (I think, anyway; I don't actually know what song it was, but it was whiny.)

But never let it be said that I don't give things a fair optimistic chance before deciding that I loathe them. I mean, I expected Twilight to be good. It took almost two weeks for me to write this entry.

I still don't know his name, but Christ, he's awful. The sort that thinks things are funnier when he shouts them. The sort that thinks he is desperately funny, and laughs at his own jokes to further that impression. The sort that addresses callers as "dude" and "my man." I was hoping it would abate with time and he would fit in with the tone of the other djs at the station.

Today he was giving away free tickets, in the manner that radio stations sometimes do. A woman called in, and he greeted her by saying: "Oh, a lovely female caller, hello." After telling her that she was the winner, he mimicked her excitement in an overwrought falsetto. He then told her that she was getting the tickets on a "five-finger discount" to which he then added: "That's Ebonics for 'free'." After I put my jaw back in place, I changed the station, because I'd heard enough.

I feel like I should write to the station to complain, but I don't know what to say. I hate to be one of those people who only comments to complain. But on the other hand, ever since they arrived on the airwaves, they've been billing themselves as a refreshing change from all the terrible radio New York has to offer. And up until now, they were. But there's a reason that people were looking for a change from stations like K-Rock, and dare I say, a reason K-Rock is now off the air. I am most displeased.

To make matter worse, I just saw one of those spiders in my bedroom and now I don't know where it is and it's probably going to bite me in my sleep. ... I know that part has nothing to do with radio, but COME ON. ETA: I met my enemy for a second time and succeeded in slaughtering the foul beast. Other problem still stands.

That was interesting.

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

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

PS the word was "prosody."

yessssssss.

WB is genius evil.

Ask any Harry Potter fan who've ever ended a rant against them with the sentence: "Yeah I'm still gonna see the movie."

Latest example: Ciarán Hinds has been cast as Aberforth Dumbledore for Deathly Hallows.

As you might recall, Aberforth was already cast and played by someone else in Order of the Phoenix. The completist in me rails at this, because why bother casting the part if you weren't going to have the same actor back? At best it shows a lack of foresight. Now the continuity is all messed up, you jerks!

But on the other hand, omg Ciarán Hinds!!

The corporation is slowly draining away my nerd morals.

NO MORE ROBOTS.

... Except for the new Robots movie. And the new Robots series. Which I can apparently get on DVD? (??)

NO MORE ROBOTS, though.

It was a three tissue evening.

There were things I liked.

There were things I did not like.

One of my pet theories was shot to hell and that made me a little sad.

Also, about that one thing? They didn't say it wasn't true, so I'm still assuming it is.

My socks were rocked off at some point during the proceedings.

NOW I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MYSELF.

I am RETROACTIVELY HORRIFIED.

This entry is about spiders. Spiders biting, spiders crawling, spiders in places spiders shouldn't be. I'm telling you this up front because I'd want someone to tell me.

So, last night, I was watching the Colbert Report, as I tend to do. Mr. Colbert did a segment on "When Animals Attack Our Morals." It was kinda funny. The last part was about the brown recluse spider that bit a man and cured his paralysis. The complaint was that this spider was trying to usurp the place of Jesus. There was a picture accompanying the story, of a spider. And ... HOLY SHIT, THAT'S IT! That's the spider!

I'm sure I've mentioned this before. When we moved into this house, there were lots of spiders in it. Mostly in my room, of course, because that's how the universe rolls, apparently. It was very unpleasant. Their visits are much more infrequent now, I see one maybe one or two times a year. Which is still one or two times too damn many.

I've tried to discover what sort of spiders they are for lo these many years. It's been surprisingly difficult. The internet was a constant disappointment. I even went to my local college, all, "Can you direct me to the Entomology Department, please?" And they were all, "wut this is a community college." Then, there I was, watching my comedy program, and there it was.

Of course, since the spider story was about a brown recluse, this caused me to immediately go to my computer for more research because omg omg. (Even though I already knew that the spiders are not brown recluses. I've checked that many many times. I don't even live in their habitat range! Still, though.) And hark!! I FOUND THE ANSWER. I found pictures! (I found that I did not sleep well last night.) I even found one fellow who had the exact same problem I did - he had an abundance of spiders that looked exactly the same, except some were brown and some were pale yellow/tan. He wasn't sure if they were the same species or not.

They are different. They are two species of "sac spiders." The darker spiders are called broad-faced sac spiders, and the lighter ones are yellow sac spiders. If you want a visual, you're going to have to Google that, because I am not having it on my blog. Hilariously, I have always been more afraid of the darker variety, because they look more sinister. MY FEAR WAS SLIGHTLY MISPLACED, APPARENTLY.

All my spider worries were, it seems, founded. They are aggressive. They bite. And the yellow sac spiders have necrotizing venom. It is similar to, but less severe than, a brown recluse's venom. So instead of losing a chunk of flesh, it may or may not cause an ulcerated sore which may or may not take several months to heal. The broad-faced sac spiders like to eat dead things, so their bites often become infected. Both varieties give painful bites that feel not unlike bee stings and which, like bee stings, may or may not cause anaphylaxsis.

Did I mention that I found one of these things under my pillow one morning?

Me = !!!!D:

I'm already never sleeping again. And I would like, if possible, for someone to travel back in time, and kill all the spiders I've already killed, so I never have to think about how close I came to touching one.

DID I MENTION THAT I REALLY REALLY HATE SPIDERS?

My life: fuck it.

So, I have this external hard drive. And on this I have 90% of all my personal computing business. And no, most of it is not backed up, don't even bother talking about it, now is not the time and I don't want to hear it.

I was playing a video file and it stopped. Not crashed, just started working slowly and poorly. This was my only indication that something was awry. Suddenly my drive is corrupted and unreadable. I turn it off, unplug it, replug it, turn it back on. Windows tells me that the drive needs to be formatted before I can use it. fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

I am now confused and stressed and fearful and upset over the uncertainty. But then, since this is my DEFAULT STATE these days, I'm not really reacting at all. I refuse to lose my shit until I deem it absolutely necessary. I just need to massage my jaw a little maybe.

I am attempting to recover the data, and I do not know how that will go because I have no idea what I'm doing and I'm not thinking clearly. If you have any helpful advice, please feel free to impart it.

In the meantime: fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

ETA - THE ANSWER IS YAY!

In other news.

I was thinking to myself recently, "What's the trashiest show I've ever watched on purpose?" And you know what? I'm pretty sure it's Dollhouse.

Hair math.

-



=




I'm going to have headaches for a month.

Cat update.

Short story: Yay!

Medium story: We're apparently still in the woods, but we have reason to be optimistic.

Full story: So, on Monday, they did an x-ray and some blood work. The x-ray showed what appeared to be one normal-sized kidney, and one small kidney. The small kidney looked to be about half the size of the normal one. This is not good. Her bloodwork showed that she only had 25% kidney function over all, or, about one-half of one kidney functioning properly. That's not good either. 10% function and under is considered kidney failure. Basically, this didn't bode well for the state of her kidney tissue which, if damaged, was ... well, damaged. In which case we'd be looking at a kidney transplant ... and, we wouldn't be getting a kidney transplant. Basically. That would just ... anyway.

On Tuesday, the news took an upswing. First, she seemed to be responding well to the antibiotics. She wasn't straining to urinate, and her kidneys didn't seem tender. Then they did the ultrasound and discovered two things: 1. Her smaller kidney is much larger than it first appeared. It's slightly smaller than the other one, but not close to the half-size they were expecting. 2. Her kidney tissue looked healthy. It looked like regular, functional kidney tissue instead of damaged, dead kidney tissue. So that's awesome. The vet sounded surprised and happy.

Today (Wednesday), they got the results of her culture, which showed that the antibiotic she's been on is already the best one. So that's good. However, her kidney levels haven't gone up at all. That's not good. However, because her tissue looks good, the vet is "optimistic" that she will get better, she just needs a little more time. I asked him if he'd seen that happen before and he said yes, many times. So, that's good.

She got to come home today, since there's nothing that they were doing for her there that we couldn't theoretically do at home, namely, giving her antibiotics and giving her fluids. This means that twice a day we have to give her oral antibiotics, but that's nothing new. I've medicated many a cat in my day. It also means that we have to give her a subcutaneous drip twice a day, which is really very quite new. I guess we'll see how that goes!

We'll take her back in on Monday to check her blood.

So that's her kidneys. In regards to her heart, she has hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. It's genetic. This is the thing you will hear about on the news when an otherwise healthy teenager suddenly drops dead in the middle of a basketball game. Lily has no outwards signs of it, either in her behavior or in heart sounds, so if her innards weren't already being photographed for other purposes, we never would have known about it. You know, until her spontaneous heart death at some point in time. So, that's not good. But now we do know about it, which is good. And we can drug her up for it. That'll have to wait until her kidney issue is resolved though, because (of course!!) the heart medicine may have adverse kidney effects.

Apparently my cat has more medical problems than I do.

Distraction.

I'm just now getting around to doing that picture thing that Jess had in her blog roughly eight billion years ago. I meant to do it, but it looked very labor intensive.





Categories:
1. favorite food
2. hometown
3. favorite color
4. celebrity crush
5. favorite drink
6. dream vacation
7. favorite dessert
8. what I want to be when I grow up
9. name
10. what I love most in the world
11. one word that describes me
12. username

Some sound meant to convey some sort of emotion.

My cat Lily is sick. Kind of very, as it turns out. "... but not hopeless," the vet added. Which does not help at all.

She has an infection in her kidneys. The best guess we have is that bacteria from her mouth (she's had chronic gum infections since we scooped her up as a malnourished kitten) moved around through her bloodstream, and landed there. She also has an enlarged heart, which has nothing to do with that. Just for kicks, I guess.

Right now she's in the kitty hospital, where she will be at least until Wednesday while they give her broad spectrum IV antibiotics. They're doing some cultures to see if a more specific antibiotic should be used. Tomorrow they will ultrasound her kidneys and her heart. All this is just as expensive as it sounds. I hate that this is even a factor, but there you go.

I think I'm burned out on pets. I can't keep on loving them if they're going to keep dying. And, as a certain Fountain of Gold noted, cats die. They don't even live very long.

Not that anything is certain right now. I mean, she could be fine. It's possible. I'm just very freaked out because I thought I would have years until I had to think about this. At least it's not cancer this time.


P.S. Please feel free to continue to give me hair advice.

The white stripe.

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

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



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

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

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


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

Local girl survives weekend in freezing woods; subsisted on cookies, she says.

There is an article about Neko Case in this week's edition of the New York Times Magazine. MY SPHERES ARE INTERSECTING AND I DON'T KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT THIS. And unlike in most instances where I say that and I really mean, "My feelings about this matter lean towards the negative," this time I really don't know! I mean, on one hand there's yay, but on the other hand there's a lot of ???.

In other news, I sprained my ankle and it's still impressively swollen and there's some bruising. But I can walk okay. Also, I discovered that 280 East has a lot of things in common with Mr. Toad's Wild Ride.

But aside from that, I had a nice weekend. And there were cookies!

I did this same thing last week!

[Begin Spoiler for Battlestar Galactica. The one that was just on. — Highlight to view]

Goodbye, Felix. You were too good for a hardscrabble life of fleeing from killer space robots. I'll miss you.

[End Spoiler]

Robits.

I win!

FYI, I absolutely gave up sex for the internet.

*waves tiny flag*

In other news, I've been ridiculously ill for the past four days or so. I think. I can't remember. One thing I did learn is that if you try to drink water while your nasal breathing is completely impaired, you will think you're drowning.

The more you know!

CHANGE is coming you guys!

I've been hearing about it for so long, and the the wait is almost over and I can't wait. The time is almost upon us!

The time I'm talking about, of course, is February 18, the day when we can finally stop hearing about the digital television transition. I mean: JESUS TAP-DANCING CHRIST. I don't even watch very much television, yet if I happen to even be passing by one, there's a statistical likelihood that there's a digital transition commercial on it.

I'M READY TO STOP HEARING ABOUT THIS ALREADY.

It's cold outside.

I accidentally traveled to outer space last night. It seems I like this framing technique. I wonder if there's a name for it.

Incidentally.

I know that you all probably know by now that when I talk about Twilight, I'm not even kidding in the slightest bit.

But, seriously you guys. You guys? Seriously. I'm not even kidding in the slightest bit.

For Katy, or, I am lazy.

A while back Katy said that she would like to make a compilation of all the Gold that the Fountain Thereof has spouted. And I thought to myself, "I could totally do that. And then share such an endeavor to anyone it might interest!"

And then I didn't because I'm lazy. And also because he was giving an awful lot of interviews around November, and I was OD'ing on Twilight and needed to detox for a while.

Anyway, turns out that one of the lovely ladies at [name of Twilight lulz livejournal community] made some video highlights of the FoG. It's not quite what I was going for, I'll admit. That these are his "best" clips are debatable. It lacks the quotes that were only ever in print. Plus a lot of them are lifted out of context, making them only really funny if you've seen them before. But, on the other hand, I have seen them before, so it's all good for me, and this whole thing required nothing more on my part than writing the rest of this entry. Yay laziness!

Also, I made them purple.

Happy New Year!

But you still have to wait until July to see this movie.

That sounds like a fine idea!

In lieu of anything more practical to do.

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


I Was Sitting In My Stall Like Any Other Day

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

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

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

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


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

This was much harder than I thought it would be.

IDLING.

Ugh.

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

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

Hey, look over here!

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

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

BUT WHICH MEME?

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

Can You Guess Where My Accent Is From?

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

A+; would lol again!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In conclusion, Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere's Carlisle!!:


Sweet dreams!

What's wrong with Twilight, anyway?

I'm 99% sure that I'm going to be seeing the Twilight movie this Tuesday. You know, barring anything. This is good because (please pay attention to this part) on Thursday it will be my birthday. I will be one-quarter of a century old. And, quite possibly, too old for this nonsense. I can hope.

So to pass the time until then I'm going to write this entry, because I don't know if I've ever articulated what exactly my problem is with this whole Twilight thing. Y'know, as a *feminist type*. You may find it useful, if you are also so afflicted, if you're ever accosted by fangirls or something.

The problem with Twilight is two-fold. Or three-fold, I don't know. Let's count. First of all, it's horribly written. There's no plot. The characterization is poor. There's adjective abuse everywhere, with all the chagrining and the chuckling and smirking and the beautiful glittering. Stephenie Meyer could seriously drop at least a hundred pages if she weren't so terrified of just saying "I said." And of course, the vampires fucking sparkle.

Apart from the issues of technical and artistic skill, there's the issue of the story itself. It's not really a bad story, but the problem is the dichotomy between what it is and what we're told it is. The story is packaged and sold as The Story Of The Greatest Love You Have Ever Heard Of Or Will Ever Hear Of In Your Life. And ... it's not that. In reality, it's the story of a young girl and her abusive, albeit very attractive, creepy boyfriend.

Twilight is told from the point-of-view of Human Girlfriend Bella Swan. She's not really important, though. There are dozens of other characters in the books as well, but they're not really important, either. The only character who is actually important is Edward Cullen, Vampire Boyfriend. The most important thing to understand about Edward is that he is attractive. He's really attractive. He's pretty much the most attractive person that you or anyone else has ever seen. This is the only thing that matters about him. It's certainly the only thing that matters about him to Bella. The great dilemma of the first book is that Bella loves Edward because he's so pretty, but knows that he couldn't possibly love her because she is nowhere near as pretty as he is. A good two-thirds of the book is basically this, just with more detail.

His white shirt was sleeveless [no, sleeveless, really], and he wore it unbuttoned, so that the smooth white skin of his throat flowed uninterrupted over the marble contours of his chest, his perfect musculature no longer merely hinted at behind concealing clothes. He was too perfect, I realized with a piercing stab of despair. There was no way this godlike creature could be meant for me.

Or, as the Fountain Of Gold put it: "When you read the book it's like, 'Edward Cullen was so beautiful I creamed myself.' I mean, every line is like that."

So that's Human Girlfriend's deal. Edward is pretty, making him perfect and negating any flaws he might conceivably have. She's not as pretty, and therefore can never be good enough for him. Human Girlfriend doesn't really have any interests of her own. Supposedly she likes books, but we never see her read. At one point she's asked if she's planning on going to college, and her respond is basically, 'Why? I got a man.' The entire purpose of the character, the main character, mind you, is to be a cipher for the reader so that you too can have the experience of having a sparkling Vampire Boyfriend.

Let's talk about Vampire Boyfriend for a minute. Edward is a vampire, and he has angst such as we are all intimately familiar with from watching Angel or whatever other dozen other vampire angst stories we've encountered. So he's tortured, and he doesn't eat humans, and he goes to high school. For ... some reason. It's not important. The important thing is that Bella Swan has outrageous flavor that threatens to undo all his decades of abstinence such that he kind of wants to be on her immediately and all the time. And that's why they can't have sex until they're married. Also, Edward reads minds but the only person whose mind he cannot read is Bella's. She's just special. It's not important. Due to this confluence of Mary-Sueisms, Edward becomes obsessed with Bella and imagines that she must be, like, the most interesting person to ever exist. (The obvious joke is that if he could read her thoughts, and know that they are all shallow musings on how pretty he is, the whole series could have been avoided.)

So VB's first plan of how to handle this situation is to be the hugest dick possible to HG. HG is of course very sad about this, because VB is so pretty, and must be judging her with the righteousness that the very pretty have for those who aren't as pretty. Then he saves her life and blows his asshole cover, so he has to amp his levels of dickishness up as high as they will go. HG finds him so intriguing. And pretty!

Then VB decides that they should just have a relationship or whatever already. HG is skeptical, not so much because of all his toolery, but because 'WTF he's too pretty to like me!' Anyway, now that they have a Forever Love and everything (seriously, it happens that fast), it is time for VB to come clean about how he's been breaking into her house every night for months to check out all the rooms and stare at her while she's asleep.

Of course I'm not kidding. And I'm also not kidding about the fact that HG doesn't get upset about it, because his creepy behavior is incredibly endearing. And he's pretty.

"You spied on me?" But somehow I couldn't infuse my voice with the proper outrage. I was flattered.
He was unrepentant. "What else is there to do at night?"
I let it go for the moment and went down the hall to the kitchen. He was there before me, needing no guide. He sat in the very chair I'd tried to picture him in. His beauty lit up the kitchen. It was a moment before I could look away.

Then we get three more books of VB being a controlling creeper. I'm just going to put some quotes up, and you tell me if this sounds like the story of a girl and her abusive boyfriend. I did not make these up:

We were near the parking lot now. I veered left, toward my truck. Something caught my jacket, yanking me back.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, outraged. He was gripping a fistful of my jacket in one hand.
I was confused. "I'm going home."
"Didn't you hear me promise to take you safely home? Do you think I'm going to let you drive in your condition?" His voice was still indignant.
"What condition? What about my truck?" I complained.
"I'll have Alice drop it off after school." He was towing me toward his car now, pulling me by my jacket. It was all I could do to keep from falling backward. He'd probably just drag me along anyway if I did."

"Turn around! You have to take me home!" I shouted. I struggled with the stupid harness, tearing at the straps.
"Emmett," Edward said grimly.
And Emmett secured my hands in his steely grasp.
"No! Edward! No, you can't do this."
"I have to, Bella, now please be quiet."

"You're kidnapping me, aren't you?"
She laughed and nodded. "Till Saturday. Esme cleared it with Charlie; you're staying with me two nights, and I will drive you to and from school tomorrow."
I turned my face to the window, my teeth grinding together.
"Sorry," Alice said, not sounding in the least bit penitent. "He paid me off."
"How?" I hissed through my teeth.
"The Porsche. It's exactly like the one I stole in Italy." She sighed happily.
[...]
Alice hopped out gracefully and went to stroke her hand along the length of her bribe.
"Pretty, isn't it?"
"Pretty over-the-top," I grumbled, incredulous. "He gave you that just for two days of holding me hostage?"
Alice made a face.
A second later, comprehension came and I gasped in horror. "It's for every time he's gone, isn't it?"
She nodded.

Like any fugitive, I couldn't help looking over my shoulder a few times while I jogged to my truck, but the night was so black that there really was no point. I had to feel my way along the side of the truck to the handle.
My eyes were just beginning to adjust as I shoved my keys in the ignition. I twisted them hard to the left, but instead of roaring deafeningly to life, the engine just clicked. I tried it again with the same results.
And then a small motion in my peripheral vision made me jump.
"Gah!" I gasped in shock when I saw that I was not alone in the cab.
Edward sat very still, a faint bright spot in the darkness, only his hands moving as he turned a mysterious black object around and around. He stared at the object as he spoke.
"Alice called," he murmured.
Alice! Damn. I'd forgotten to account for her in my plans. He must have her watching me.
[Edward does a long creepy monologue in low tones]
I listened to his musing in stony silence.
"I'll put your car back together in time for school, in case you'd like to drive yourself," he assured me after a minute.
With my lips mashed together, I retrieved my keys and stiffly climbed out of the truck.
"Shut your window if you want me to stay away tonight. I'll understand," he whispered just before I slammed the door.

And that's just the overt crap and what doesn't delve too much into boring story points. There's oh so much more. For the record, that last section was the only time in this series about vampires that I actually felt scared. So, Edward Cullen is a creepy stalker who becomes a controlling boyfriend. But it's okay, because he's very attractive. There are also other fine lessons to be learned from these books like how, if you're a woman, your value as a person is dependent on producing children, and if you can't produce children, 1. you'll be a miserable bitch for all your life and 2. you're not really even a woman. Plus, the actual literal I'm-not-kidding pedophilia. I'm not kidding.

I could go on, but we haven't even gotten to the second major problem with Twilight.

The second major problem with Twilight is that it is very popular. This, really, is why I'm talking about this at all, or why anyone talks about it at all. There are tons of horribly written books with terrible messages out there. I may have read some, most of them I haven't, and I don't really care. I probably wouldn't care about Twilight except for the effect I see it have in other people. Specifically, I'm talking about young women: millions of them, to be exact. There are millions of girls who read these books, and take them for exactly the Epic Love Story they claim to be, become obsessed with them as some sort of gospel of Ideal Love, and are completely blind to how fucking messed-up the whole thing is.

Back about a year ago, I was ambling around the internet and discovered the Edward Cullen fangirls. Most of them go by the moniker "Mrs. Cullen." And let it be known that they love Edward Cullen. What is the top reason they love Edward Cullen? Because he's so hottttt!!!!!! Now, here's the thing. I think Robert Pattinson is pretty nice looking. I have no problem if anyone else thinks likewise. Or hey, even if they don't. There are any number of actors that you can conjure up that are nice looking. But Edward Cullen doesn't exist. He is a fictional character, and these sentiments date back to before Pattinson or anyone else was physically attached to the character giving him any sort of objective appearance. (Ask me about the Transitive Hotness of Vampire Boyfriends Property.) I like the way Bill Maher put it when he said "What can't you convince people of simply by saying it?" (Of course, he was talking about the idea that Barack Obama is a sekrit Muslim, but whatever.) Edward Cullen doesn't have eyes. He doesn't have muscles. He doesn't have anything that one could objectively consider and decide is attractive because he's not real. What he does have, though, is several hundred pages devoted to talking about how goddamned attractive he is. And that makes it true.

What he also has are hundreds of pages devoted to talking about what a chivalrous gentleman he is, and how he's the epitome of what any girl would want from a boy. The pages are adamant that he loves loves loves loves loves Bella Swan, and everything he does -- whether it's putting her life in danger, leaving her for her own good, preventing her from seeing her friends, talking about how he'll kill himself without her, calling her "ridiculous" and "absurd" when she disagrees with him, having her followed, having her go places she doesn't want to go and do things she doesn't want to do, physically restraining her, and having violent outbursts all over the place -- he does because he loves her. He's so sweet and thoughtful. He's just worried about her. He cares about her. He's just being protective. He never means to hurt her. It's okay because he loves her. And because he is so very, very pretty. And that makes it true.

But it's just a story, right? And works of fiction have never influenced anyone ever, correct? Should anyone really care?

Well, when you have thousands of girls calling themselves "Mrs. Cullen" and talking about how desperately they want a boyfriend like Edward, I think that's a problem.

When you have girls who sleep with boys because they are named Edward, I think that's a problem. And when they get knocked up and name their resultant offspring after the author, that's really a problem and no I am not making this up.

When you have girls who have clearly never sorted out the difference between fantasy and reality cutting their necks and telling the actor playing Edward that they did it for him, I think that's a problem.

When you have adult women talking about how they want to take the virginity of one of the underage teenage actors in the movie because they love his character, I think that's a problem and no I am not kidding.

When you have underwear, marketed to teenagers, upon which are the words "Edward Cullen can bruise my body any day." I think that's a problem and no I am not making this up.

When you have a generation of young girls zealously devoted to the disturbing backwards-thinking mentality displayed in these books, I think that's a problem.


So that, now that we've made it here, is what's wrong with Twilight.

Plus, furthermore, the vampires fucking sparkle.

Also, jsyk.

I have not seen Twilight yet. But I've heard thrillingly terrible things.

BLOQ.

Per P@.

If an asteroid were to hit the earth and eliminate all mammalian life, what animal species (other than homo sapiens) would you miss most? Well. None. Because I'm a mammalian life form, and hence I would have been eliminated.

Who's more popular - Jesus or the Beatles? Right now I'll say Jesus.

How many bones have you broken in your life? I've broken three of my toes and fractured my ankle. And that's surprisingly it!

"Where is my mind?" Lunch?

Knowing the pros and cons of time travel, if you were given the opportunity to go back to see (and speak with) your 14-year-old self, would you? (And what would you say if so) YES.

What's a good cure for writer's block? Being somewhere without a pen or paper.

What's your favorite type of cake? I am not fond of cake. Although I suppose lemon cake is alright.

Go to wikipedia, and click "random article" thrice. What'd you land on? Samborombón is a small rural community in Brandsen Partido in Buenos Aires Province, Argentina.

"What's the consolation prize?" The satisfaction of a job well done.

What's gas going for in your neck of the woods right now? I think the last time I got gas it was $2.12 for the one in the middle.

and finally....

How would you describe the year 2008 in three words or less? I wouldn't dare.

I love this nutball.

No, not Robert Pattinson. Jacob, from TWoP! Yes, him again. And probably all but two of you have already stopped reading. I DON'T CARE. Also, even though this entry is about Jacob, it's still about Twilight because, well.

My Jacob-love is resurging right now for two reasons. 1. Because he is doing more than anyone else to ensure that "Vampire Boyfriend" enters the social lexicon. Way moreso than I am. 2. Because he explains vampire boyfriends (and werewolf boyfriends) like so:


-----
Why's it happening again? Why on earth is our culture playing out entirely vampire boyfriend/werewolf boyfriend right now? And I'm not just saying this because Twilight came out yesterday -- these three series of books I'm talking about started in 1993 (Anita), 2001 (Sookie), and 2005 (Twilight) and pretty much have ruled the bestseller lists since then, even with the variances in quality, readability and WTF between them; seven of the eight Sookie novels are bestsellers pretty much nonstop, which is not something that ever happened before. I think it's pretty easy if you follow the line of blood: The war and the Greatest Generation's reassignment and recapitulation of gender roles becomes the uphill battle of the '50s and the glorious global shout of the '60s becomes the delirious sexual abandon of the '70s becomes the cruelty and sexual artifice of the '80s becomes the total AIDS-related sexual freakout of the '90s ... and we grew up in that, doing the incredibly dangerous undercover work of becoming healthy sexual beings that people have been doing since there were people, with all that crazy on top, mediated for the first time by television telling us back to ourselves in realtime and the endless fucking Baby Boomer retellings and nostalgia and music videos disguised as feature films. We became men and women in the middle of that shitstorm. Vampire Guy/Werewolf Guy is just us telling that story back to the world and trying to decide what to do next.
-----


I mean ... have you ever? The raving starts here, it's in the middle of a True Blood recap, which I don't know if you care about, but just be forewarned, but he's only barely talking about it, if you are.

Seriously, he can do no wrong.

I mean, he complained about being a "nice guy" and I only got my feminist hat halfway on before I loved him again.





"If Edward was not a fictional character and you just met him in reality, you know, he's one of those guys who'd be like an axe murderer. ... He's like ultra-polite, really formal all the time like, 'Uh, let me open the door! Let me carry the bags!' and it's like literally just like, you can tell he'd just freak out one day and shoot someone."

omg omg omg HOME STRETCH.

So, as you've already probably heard by now, the Twilight movie is opening this Friday. I occurs to me that I may not have made my thoughts about this clear. I can't wait to see this movie. Although I won't actually be seeing it until Tuesday. But I am so excited.

There are several reasons for this, one being getting to see The Fountain Of Pure Gold in action. Another being that I will get to see the new Harry Potter trailer writ super large because it's being shown before it. Mostly though, I cannot wait because I am pretty sure that this is going to be the unintentional comedy of the year, and I cannot wait to MST3K that shit.

Actually, do you know what this movie is? This movie is The Rocky Horror Picture Show for the 21st century. I have been of this opinion for a while. It just lends itself too easily to such a treatment. A theater-full of people throwing glitter and opening up their rainbow umbrellas and yelling things at the screen. And recently, I discovered something that completely supports my theory: there's a local theater that does midnight showings of RHPS, and this week they are going to be showing a midnight premiere of Twilight instead. Amazing.

To conclude, here are some quotes from recent articles about how deeply creepy Twilight fans are:

-----
"But if you think Pattinson was the only 'Twilight' star earning shrieks last night, you may have chosen the wrong side in the 'Team Edward' vs. 'Team Jacob' battle. 'I think I'm dreaming, and I keep telling people to pinch me,' said an adrenaline-fueled Lautner, not yet 17 years old and already having fans twice his age throw themselves at him. "[An older woman] told me she was wearing 'Team Taylor' panties and [said], 'If you want, you can sign them.' Luckily, my publicist was there to save me!" "

NB: Taylor is the first name of the actor, not the character. Furthermore in the video of the interview, he said the woman was in her 40s.

-----
"Robert went on to tell a story about a group of girls who scratched their necks for him. "There were some girls who had scratched ... the side of their necks so [they were] freshly bleeding when they came up to get a signature. They were like, 'We did this for you.' I didn't know what to say. 'Um, thanks guys?'""

-----

And I don't know who this guy is, but, he's pretty amazing. I mean, except when he says that Robert Pattinson is a bad actor. I don't want this to be true, because we totally can't be bffs if that's true. I WILL LET YOU KNOW, THOUGH.

http://www.accesshollywood.com/mantz-rantz-twilight_video_838561

"It was so cheesy I got fat just watching the movie."

Book meme.

Because poor Caz cannot comment, and this was much better than the post I was going to make. Trust me. Please bear in mind that I am desperately ill and that's why this won't come out like I want it to.


Here's how it works: I list six book-related things about myself, then I tag six people, and they do the same. If they want to, of course.

1. I haven't read very many books. Sometimes I feel like a fraud for saying that I'm "reader" because ... I actually haven't read that many books. Or at any rate, I haven't read as many books as I think I should. When I was younger, I read books all the time. It's been years since I read like that, though. So the problem is, the amount I had read was really impressive when I was younger, but as my Age has gone up, the Number Of Books Read has leveled out a bit.

2. I'm more likely to read a book that I've already read than read a new book. I think the first and second item on this list might be related. Do you? I have this same problem with music. I want to find new things, but more often than not, I'll stick with something I already have and know. Most of the books I've read I've read more than once. Some books I've read ten times or more. I think this might have something to do with the fact that I have certain mannerisms from childhood that I've never grown out of. I'm still a picky eater. I still do that weird humming thing when I need to concentrate. I still like reading the same book over and over and over.

3. I really wish I could get some of my childhood books back. This is somewhat difficult because I don't remember what some of them were called. Like that one about the witches that I had my parents or my sister read to me even though I knew all the words and could read it myself. Pretty much all of them are out of print. The ones I'd like to find the most are "Aloysius Sebastian Mozart Mouse", "I Am A Mouse" (I liked books about mice, apparently), that gorgeous edition of "Heidi", and that big blue book of Greek and Roman Myths for Children.

4. I have different editions of the same books. I don't know why. Not even books I'm particularly fond of. I just seem to acquire books that I already have somewhere.

5. I don't read modern literature. Generally, because I break this rule all the time, I read books that are at least 30 years old. I figure that life is short, and there's a lot of books out there, so it's better to read one that's been tested by time and lots of student papers: There's a greater chance I'll like it. Plus, left to guess, I wind up reading things like "Twilight". And look what happened there.

6. My father told me this story about my grandmother. My grandmother had a lot of books. Shelves and shelves of books from "The Rubaiyat Of Omar Khayyam" to the Complete Works of Dickens to "To The Actor" to Shirley MacLaine's autobiography. Most of these books were thrown out by my mother when we moved. I've probably mentioned this before because I still haven't gotten over it and probably never will. Anyway, my father used to have conversations with my grandmother about some of the books she'd read. Then one day my mother told him ... she'd never actually read any of them. She would just read the first page and the last page, and the synopsis if there was one. And the hilarious thing is, I've totally done that, before I'd heard this story. I've totally had conversations about books I've never read.

So I was looking at the internet.

And I saw this piece of flair -- I'm not really sure where from -- that said something to the effect of, "Oh hey, Edward Cullen. Sure, I'd love to go out with you on November 21. I had a date with Harry Potter, but he canceled."

It was fairly amusing, so I'll admit that I laughed. And then I kind of cried. Because if this button were true to life, I would probably be busy leaving 50 messages on Harry Potter's voicemail. Why won't you return my calls, Harry? WE'RE MEANT TO BE. *sob*


Is that Draco in the bathroom? Hell yes it is. He should probably turn around 'cause he's 'bout to get cut. OMFG.

Heave and sigh.

At this point, I don't even know how I have any sinus tissue left to infect.

Robert Pattinson is an oracle of Truth.

I swear this man is like a never-ending fountain of pure gold.



I apologize for not keeping you up-to-date with all the stuff that's been going on with Twilight. To recap: It's been fucking batshit.

I don't even know anymore.

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

I would be wrong, though.

BUT.

What the fuck, California?

What the fuck?

omg omg omg omg omg omg omg,

OMG.

please please please please please please please.

ugh.


ETA:

Bert.

1987 - 2008

I saw Daniel Radcliffe naked.

If you were interested.

I mean, he was in a play.

I was going to say "I saw Harry Potter naked" but I didn't because I respect him as an actor.

I joined Ravelry.

You might have noticed this if I added you as a friend. I just went ahead and assumed we were friends! Also if I didn't add you it's because I couldn't find you through search. It doesn't mean I don't also assume that I am your friend.

Furthermore upon this matter, I need to make something for my sister for her birthday. My first impulse is to make her socks, because I love the fuck out of socks, and the making of them and because my sister doesn't have any nice socks. Unfortunately, though, there's a reason for this: my sister is disrespectful of anything that goes on her feet. Sigh.

So I'm thinking gloves. Or hat. Or matching gloves and hat. Oh my God, that would be adorable! But Jesus, I'm not a Rockefeller. Anyway. Ideas?

Yay!!

Jacob is recapping True Blood!

It took me several weeks to learn this because I ... haven't been to TWoP in a while. But this is enough to get me to like it again! Sometimes my affections are fickle. Oh man, I can't wait for him to start spouting vampire apologetics!

Oh, by the way, I've been watching True Blood. On the internet no less. It's okay, I don't expect you to be surprised.

Sarah Palin needs to stop winking at me.

You know the part where she started talking about plans to increase the VP's power in the legislative branch so that the VP can more effectively carry out the President's will?

I nearly had a heart attack.

Seriously, you guys, if John McCain wins, we are so fucked. So, so fucked.

Goddamn it, AOL.

I just got an email telling me that AOL Hometown FTP is being shut down on October 31. I still use that sometimes! And what am I going to do with all my wares? And what of all the xs that are going to appear everywhere I've used those pictures? I HATE WHEN THAT HAPPENS.

Um. Tell me what I should do. I don't feel well and I'm in no mood for thinking.

Ol' Spirituals.

So, I've been checking out some new music lately. I've discovered two artists that, on their own, probably wouldn't rate an entry, but together have enough coincidence that I think, "Hey, I should blog about this."

Functionally, musically, the two artists have little in common. But they do have two notable similarities: First, they both use the word "Spirit" in their band names. The first, out of the UK, is "The Duke Spirit". The second, out of (I think) California, is called "Delta Spirit" -- but that's as indicative of their sound as it is of their location. ... I don't really get what they were going for.

Anyway, the second thing they have in common is that I checked them out because they sound like music I already listen to, or, at least, their front-persons do.

The lead singer of The Duke Spirit sounds just like Milla Jovovich. Even though she isn't. I checked. The lead singer of Delta Spirit sounds just like Alex Greenwald, lead singer of Phantom Planet. I mean, with the voice breaks and everything. He's not, though. I checked.

The Duke Spirit is old-school moody rock. You know the kind that manages to sound angry and anesthetized at the same time? It works for them sometimes, but their big problem is one of my top musical peeves: many of their songs sound exactly the same. Ugh. Still, I granted 5 songs from their album "Neptune" for iPod status. I liked "The Step And The Walk" enough that I corrected the shoddy lyrics floating around the internet; that and "Wooden Heart" are my favorites.

Delta Spirit doesn't have that problem. All their songs on "Ode To Sunshine" sound pretty different, which is awesome, because apparently that's harder to accomplish than I thought. Their problem, though is in their lyrics. They seem to like singing about The State Of Things and unfortunately they aren't as poignant and affecting as they probably think they are. It's like they're trying to mix earnest 60s idealism with self-aware hipsterism, and it's just annoying. You'll hear them start going on about "this world" in pretty much every song. It's okay when they're laying down some solid rock to back it up, which they do on several songs (one such being "People C'mon"). But generally, just ... no. I also synched 5 of their songs up to the pod, though I was probably being generous, because three of those are really great. One of them is a song called "Trashcan," in which the percussion is provided by - wait for it - a trashcan.

And that's it for this episode.