My house is for sale.

Not the house I live in, but the house I've wanted desperately since ... forever. There's this street in Upper Montclair that has fantastical houses, and one of these houses is absolutely perfect in my eyes. It looks like a castle. Walls of windows. And a stone arch that you drive under. I imagine that inside there is a library. It's for sale.

I am discomfitted by this development! It is happening far too soon. According to my plans, the house was supposed to be for sale twenty or thirty years from now (at which point I would be ridiculously wealthy) and then I would buy it and live in it and be happy forever. With a library.

I'm wondering if I should try to go into it and see it. It may be my only chance. Maybe I could ask Ace to go with me. I think he's the only person I know who looks like a potential buyer of this house. I certainly don't!

My House. (EDIT - I'm not sure why the link didn't work. I've replaced it with a picture, that, hopefully, will work. Also, this way you can't see the price, so you won't know how unrealistic my expectations are.)

Other developments!

Today I was called by the theatre! I have been approved to direct! Yeeee! So on Monday, I'm going to go there and read some original plays written by the starving artists of New York City, to see if I would like to, you know, direct any of them. I am really, really excited. Yee.

Furthermore, today I went to the mall. The mall is not my most favorite of places. But I had a coupon for Borders, and it was my intention to purchase a replacement for one of my books that had all its pages fall out and get lost. I made this purchase. I also purchased a swimsuit. Even though I don't really plan on going swimming in the near or even relatively near future. I don't plan on being in the sun. The swimsuit is a bikini. WHAT THE FUCK. I haven't worn a bikini since I was five. This may not actually be true, but it's been a while. See, there were these two-piece swimwear things. And there were these bottoms that could go to either a "tankini" top or a halter bikini top. And I really like the design, so I decided to try both. And I actually liked the bikini top better. WHAT THE FUCK.

Now I'll just have to make sure that my body is fit to be seen in a bikini. At present? It is not.

"But he bore a brown scar to the end of his days."

[Begin Spoiler for Lost - the whole first season of the bitch. WARNING: Also talks about VERONICA MARS Season 1. — Highlight to view]

Whatever else you can say about this show (and I can, and probably will, say a lot) you must say this: A man was blown up with dynamite, and a wound was cauterized with gunpowder. That's fucking awesome.

So, okay. Now   everyone can talk about how disappointed or not they were by the season. I was honestly getting a little tired of hearing people complain about how nothing ever got explained. The season was not over. Now it is. Have at it. Here's me, though: At 8 miutes to go in this episode, during the last commercial break, I was having a vehement argument with my mother about the fact that there was no way anything was going to get wrapped up in the time they had left. By the time the episode was over? I was cool.

This season had definite problems. That I will say. However, a few episodes back I had decided that this show was a lot like Veronica Mars. Not in subject matter, but in terms of suspense and mystery, and all that. And at that point, I was convinced that Veronica Mars was way better at this style of storytelling than Lost was. However, at this point, I think I was mistaken. I don't think the two shows have the same type of storytelling.

Because in this episode? No, no big mysteries were laid bare. Not really. But that's okay. Because here's the alternative: They wrap everything up at breakneck speed. Everything you wanted to know, you know, there's a huge catharsis, and then ... what? First of all, that would make the planning and pacing of the show super crappy, which is actually what I was afraid was going to happen. Veronica Mars laid out most of its mystery in the very first episode. Then, it gave out revelations and a little more mystery, until finally in the end, everything was revealed. Or, almost everything. The major things. Now, when the new season starts, they will have to start afresh with a whole new mystery, even a new tone for the show.

Lost can't do that. Or, it can, but it would grow stale very quickly. We have here a weird island of mystery. This is the premise of the show. So far, we can guess that this island has at least 250 years ... of mystery. This cannot be solved in 40 days (the time period of the first season). If they solved all the mystery they found, then next year they'd have to miraculous discover new mystery, and solve that all by the season's end. Sorta like Buffy. And that gets cheesy.

I am now, honestly, restored in the faith I had with this show when the season started. I think they are telling a story, and (for the most part) I think they know what they're doing. They need to work on the fine tuning. But overall... I don't know. It works somehow. Somehow in that last five minutes, I was only slightly wiser, but I didn't feel angry or cheated. We'll find out more in the fall. And I will tune in. And ... I can handle that.

Plus, I like the fact that a quick, definitive answer was brought to nothing. Now people have something to talk about and theorize and debate about all summer. And they should, because I do believe there's something there.

Like, Walt! Use your freaky weird child powers! The people in the boat, they're the Others, right? I think we can assume this. Is the girl who threw the molotov cocktail Alex? How long have these people been waiting for a freaky weird child? How many freaky weird children have they collected? Is young Aaron still a freaky weird child like the psychic predicted, and if so, did Walt just decoy for him? Is Sawyer dead? Is everybody else on the raft dead?

Also, the monster. Do we know what it is? No. But apparently it's invisible. Okay! The hatch. Do we know what's in it? No. But apparently it's a big long staircase into the center of the earth. Okay! Is there destiny, or do we make our own? Yes. Okay!

Incidentally, as per that. Remember I had that theory that the island has been bumping off the people who weren't supposed to be on the plane? I'm now wondering, what determines whether or not they were supposed to be on the plane? The dead Joanna "wasn't even supposed to be on the plane" but she got sick, so she was. You could say from this episode that Hurley was not supposed to be on the plane. The blackout, the elevator, the car, the flight attendant, everything seemed to be conspiring to keep him off it. But he kept trying. Did he thwart fate? But then, that guy gave him the scooter. That stewardess and the pilot were nice to him and bent the rules. Those people moved out of the way. Was that fate? Should he have been on the plane, or not? And Locke. They didn't have the special slim wheelchair. (Which, incidentally, I've been in! Woo!) Does that mean he shouldn't have been on the plane? But then the flight attendant offered to carry him on. Since that wasn't Locke's doing, does that mean it's fate? Circumstances not under his control? What about Sayid? He was on the flight a day later because he chose to be. What about Claire? Someone bought the tickets for her and told her to go, and then the pens didn't work, but ultimately she's the one who decided to put herself on that plane. Boone and Shannon were supposed to be in first class. Is their getting bumped back fate, or were they supposed to die in the crash?

Furthermore, it became clear in this episode that the island may not actually like Locke as much as he thinks it does. Or does he?

Anyway, here's what was wrong with this season. As I see it.
1. I know I've harped on this, but the Claire thing. Holy fuck did this bother me. It really, really bothered me. I don't mind that Claire was kidnapped, and I don't even mind that she had "amnesia" and very annoyingly couldn't remember anything. I don't even mind that Charlie weirdly came back to life and also didn't remember anything. What I do mind is that Claire was missing for a week, and everyone carried about their stupid business. Including Charlie who was in love with her, and Jack who has a hang up about saving people. Here's what could have been different: Her abduction time should have been shorter. Nothing they can do in a week that they can't also do in four days. They should have had people show actual concern for her. Like, asking where is she? What do you think's happening to her? How are we going to get her back? There should have been some actual attempt to get her back, or a plan to get her back. The plans could have been thwarted, if we really needed to draw it out, or if we really needed this for any reason. But at the very least, Charlie should have cooked up some hair-brained scheme to rush into the jungle and rescue her, and Sayid and Jack should have restrained him and explained that it was too dangerous. They should have explained TO THE AUDIENCE why it was too dangerous to get Claire. They should have made some attempt to give some sort of explanation as to WHY NO ONE WAS LOOKING FOR CLAIRE! God! Seriously! This was such a major downfall of this season. It really ... gah. Fucking show.

Another major problem: there are too many survivors. In this episode, we have Mr. Arzt telling us that the extras have important stories too. Then he gets blown up. First of all: no they don't. I remember reading an article about Lost where one of the writers pointed out that 47 was the most randomly occurring number. In ... everything. Even though the meaning of life is 42. Whatever. Some number in the forties. Anyway though, this really indicated to me that the reason for that number was simply because it was clever. And they wanted to do something clever.

Now, of course all these people who show up in the background and don't get lines are all due to SAG and money issues. That said? It's fucking retarded. There are all these people that we don't know, never hear about, and can't care about. When the commercials made a big deal about Ethan killing one of the castaways, it turned out to be one of those faceless extras who got a line once and a hundred bucks. And because they had some stupid bit about how supposedly peopel confused him with this other guy ... we're supposed to care. But it doesn't work like that. I can't give a shit about these people that I never see who can't talk. Plus, there are too many people on the island as it is. What would be better? If they had had maybe 20-25 people, and paid them all appropriately. If we learned all their names and stories, and saw them interacting with each other. Not on the level of the regulars, they probably wouldn't get their own flashback episodes, but some recognition of who these people are. Some familiarity with their faces and lives, so that we actually care about all the people on this island, and not just a third of them. Because seriously? There was not one point in this season where they needed all those people. Not when they had to find food, not when they needed to build the raft fast. There was nothing in the story that could not have been improve by having fewer people.

Another thing: the castaways need to stop being so FUCKING STUPID. Like this evening. Charlie starts yelling at Rousseau about how there were never any others. Um. Remember when Charlie was abducted and hanged, and came back blacked out but muttering about "they"? WHAT THE FUCK, WRITERS? There are just too many instances of these people not asking questions, not being smart, not remembering shit they should remember. This is bad writing. It needs to stops. Also, the contrived shit. In this episode, we realized that Arzt was a bit of a dick, and maybe that's why no one wanted to listen to him. Not that we'd know, SINCE WE'D NEVER SEEN THE GUY BEFORE. But when he gave them that snotty line about how they should have left "yesterday"? WELL THEN WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T HE TELL THEM YESTERDAY  ! God! That is so fucking stupid! No one in real life would take half the bullshit stupidity that the people on this island give each other. They need to act more fucking realistically. They need to act smarter.

There are also other things that I'll have months to remember and rant about. No one is still reading at this point, anyway. Are you! I look forward to reading months of wild internet speculation. Good night.

Oh, PS. The hatch? Contains love.

[End Spoiler]

Bah!

THESE PEOPLE ALSO DID NOT HEED ME: inertia, Zer0 Signal.

Now Sharon and Crystal are on the main page. And those girls are fucking newbies!

But what I really want to do...

I recently sent in a headshot to a theatre that was doing a run of classic Greek/Roman plays. I'm into that sort of thing. Last week, I got a call from this place, and the message said that they wanted to "give me the opportunity" to work on one of these shows. Like, directing maybe. I called them back and confirmed that they had called the right number.

So today, I went into the city for a sit-down type thing. Turns out the artistic director of this off-off-Broadway theatre is all into helping artists make art, and stuff like that. And for whatever reason, she would like to help me make some art. So they want me to direct something. "Has Amy ever directed anything before?" you ask yourself. Um. Not as such, no. Which they seem to be aware of, which is why this would only be a 10-15 minute piece I'd be doing. No more than 30 minutes. They'll call me back on Monday to see what's brewing.

This would take place during the summer, so I think and I think you know that I'm not counting on the series. But they could still call! I don't know! Meh.

I'd be casting and committing, and publicizing. There is no audience unless you generate an audience. Also, apparently as long as I'm working hard and expanding my mind, it might not even have to be any good! The girl who interviewed me said that all actors should be made to direct something. Then they wouldn't be such bitches? Maybe!

I am very excited and confused and nervous and incredulous.

Also - tomorrow I graduate! Holy crap, that came up fast! I haven't even had the chance to break in my shoes. They are black heels. I wore them while I was ironing. Hot, eh? "Hasn't Amy already graduated?" you're probably asking. Yes. Last year. But the ol' Alma Mater only has one graduation walk a year, and I could not be included in last year's. Even though I've really had no interest in this, it will mean a lot to my parents to get to see me do this queer ceremony. All I hope is that there are decent pictures. The robe cost 50 bucks!

Holy shit!

Sorry! Still not about that other thing. The Holy Shit! would be much bigger. But interesting shit keeps happening!

I was watching Darkness Falls on FX. Then I watched a few more minutes of it, because FX also does that thing where they show it twice in a row. Emma Caulfield was supposed to be 22, eh? And the girl who played her younger self, is that the girl who was later in A Series Of Unfortunate Events? I believe it is. Then I flipped over to the TV Guide Channel.

Holy Shit! I know this guy! He was being interviewed, because apparently, he is on Guiding Light. Holy shit!

I went to school with him. Sort of. He was a year ahead of me and in Mason Gross. I've met him a total of three times, and I would be utterly shocked if he recognized my name or face. And ... he's on the Guiding Light!

I was totally shocked, but at the same time, I was not at all shocked. Because this man? Is awesome. Seriously. He was, I think unquestionabley, the best actor at Rutgers the entire time I was there. I had more than a small crush on him. He's just ... gah. I sound like Annie. Anyway. He really deserves this, because he's great. I can't even describe.

Wait, yes I can! This is a short paper I wrote for my last acting class. We had to see all the school's productions and pick one actor from each and discuss their performance. For Two Gentlemen of Verona, I choose Mr. Pelphrey. He was Proteus. I toned down my praise, actually, because both of my teachers were in the show with him, so, I didn't want to make it too awkward, you know?

----
February 5, 2004

In this production, I was most particularly impressed with Thomas Pelphrey. I tend to hold Shakespeare productions to a slightly different standard than "normal" shows, and I really appreciated his performance. He kept his line delivery at a moderate, conversational pace, and it felt like every word was imbued with meaning. He was always clear about what he wanted, and always clear about what he was saying, and what the words that he was using meant to him. I felt he was one of the best in the ensemble at handling the dialogue (other favorites include Heather Kendzierski and Raymond McAnally). I also thought that he was one of the best at keeping up the dialect. It occurred to me during the show that the setting used for the play, 1950s Italy, very much lent itself to the type of poetic and metaphorical dialogue that Shakespeare used. I felt that this was highlighted by his delivery, that he really made it seem both possible and plausible that this character, in that time period, could be using those words. While I liked all the performances, I sometimes got the impression that the two "worlds" weren't meshing as easily for some of the actors; sometimes they were being Italian, and sometimes they were being Shakespearean. He seemed to make everything a believable extension of his character.

I was most impressed with the obvious character work on his part. I've seen him in other shows, and in every one I've seen him play completely unique and different characters. He seemed to embody the role. The mannerisms and even the body movement of the character seemed like it was unconscious and naturally done. If I hadn't already seen him use wholly different movements just as naturally for other characters, I might have assumed that he was cast because his personality fit the part.

I also liked the way he focused on the people he was acting with. His attention to his partner was very evident in his face, and you could tell that he was listening and absorbing what they were giving him. He kept good eye contact. There were some moments that I liked in the final scene, in particular his reactiong to Julia identifying herself and Valentine's denunciation of him. In the latter, I felt a very powerful reaction from him, and when he asks for forgiveness, it seemed to me to be a genuine moment from an honest place. Because of his clearness, he did a good job to make his character understandable in his desires, and as sympathetic as possible at the end. This is particularly a feat in my opinion because his character was largely unlikable and his storyline resolved in a conveniently swift and not very believable manner. The playwright was cleary a hack.
----

A+! Also, Tom Pelphrey helped me realize that the acting training at Rutgers is mostly bull crap. Because he went in great. That's why, even though BFAs aren't typically cast in shows, he was in starring roles as a sophomore. He was great before they got their hands on him, and managed to still be great after they were done with him. Rutgers did not do that. Just so you know.

My mother said that she supposed I'll have to start watching Guiding Light now. MAYBE I WILL!

Why did no one tell me!

Note: this still   has nothing to do with that other entry. Jesus!

They're making The Chronicles Of Narnia into a series of movies?

Seriously. My sister told me about this yesterday morning, as we were doing festivities for Mother's Day. How! This is the absolute first I'd heard about it. How did my sister know and I did not know! She also mentioned specifically that it would be live-action, not a cartoon. And that ruffled my feathers because, of course, there already is a live-action Chronicles of Narnia: the miniseries put out by the BBC in the 80s. Which I totally loved.

I should note that I am nearly as enormous a geek for the Narnia stories as I am for Middle Earth stories. Yes, I'm a girl and girls like fantasy. What to the EV to E - R!

I suppose this movie (s?) are making themselves out to be the definitive cinematic production, in the way that the Lord of the Rings movies were. But is this production going to feature Warwick Davis, Mark of Quality? I somehow doubt it.

Also, the poster, which I saw via AOL, features a young man (Peter, or maybe Prince Caspian?) who looked disturbingly like Jonathan Taylor Thomas. Disturbingly.

Fuck that noise.

Um ... this has nothing to do with my previous entry. So we're clear. Because I STILL DON'T KNOW. Trust me, when I know, you will know. Because after all the phone calls I need to make, the internet will be the first one I tell. ... Whenever that   is.

No, this is just random. Because I think I need to use this phrase more often. Because it so accurately conveys my sentiments about so many things that I come across every single day.

Fuck that noise.

Reduce peed.

So, I have some whelming news. That I'm mentioning now because the part that required my attention and involvement is now over, and it's all up to the hands of Maybe.

Last week I got a call to audition for a new television series. As a regular. The audition was today. In Philadelphia. So my mother took the day off from work, and drove me down. Incidentally, this is all I have been asking for. Little late, but thank you!

They sent me a monologue of the character I was reading for, which I've been practicing all week. I showed up about an hour in advance, which was good, because after a short wait, they were ready for me. There were five other people there at the time, two girls, one of which I assume was going for the same role, although it was hard to tell, because neither of them fit the description of any characters. And there were some lads.

They were also casting for something else, and one girl who was there for that looked exactly like Holly Marie Combs. It was not her.

I was sat in a chair in front of a camera with the casting agent at a desk behind fussing with papers. I was very nervous. Shit. I didn't really get the beginning as well as I would have liked, but by the end I think I had it up to the level I had when I was practicing. There were some good moments. At least, as far as I could tell. And I got the chick to look up. She was looking at me for the last few sentences of the monologue, which I can only assume is a good thing. Afterwards, she asked me a few things about my address and some entertaining bits of my resume, and told me it was "very nice."

And that's it! Besides this, I spent a nice day in Philadelphia with my mother. We saw the Liberty Bell, Betsy Ross's house, the City Tavern, and a Starbucks. I had duck. Not at the Starbucks. We got rained on a little.

Now all I have to do is wait. I'm cautiously optimistic, but mostly nonexpectant. At least what I have to do is done, and I did a good job. I don't know when I'm going to hear back, but you'll definitely know because I'll either be spastically incoherent with joy or, you know, completely normal. We'll see.

Tomorrow I'm going down to Rutgers to get my cap n' gown! ... Because I still need to graduate! Which I'll do later this month.

Today's title is courtesy of the New Jersey Turnpike.

Happy Birthday...

To the love of my life.

So, um.

I could play 15, right?

Hee?

GAh!

It's the little things.

I have been insanely tired all day. Probably because I went to sleep after 2 last night, and then only sort of slept and then got up at 6:30 and then went to work for 9 hours. Maybe! Anyway, I can totally sleep now, because I don't have to go back! But I'm not going to! Because I can sleep tomorrow! Wheee!

Perhaps, though, this is the reason that I have been so easily amused today. My duties at this temporary job included staring at a phone all day. This phone had a clock on it, but the clock was off the company's time by a considerable margin (and the company's clock is actually one minute slower than my cell phone's clock, which I tend to regard as Gospel Time, but no matter). This really bothered me. Really. And there was no discernible way to change it. Until today, when I asked one of my coworkers if there was, in fact, a way to change the time. And there was! There was a manual somewhere. So I got the manual, looked up the needlessly complex means of fixing the time, and then did it  . The time on the clock synched up perfectly with the time on the wall. Then, I spent the next hours or so beaming ecstatically.

Sometimes being obsessive compulsive can be amazingly gratifying.

Later in the day, I was greatly entertained by Jeopardy!. One of the correct responses was a man's name. This man apparently did cool things in the early end of the 20th century. I forget what though, and it doesn't matter, because this man's name was Norbert Weiner. And then I laughed like I have rarely ever laughed before. There were tears literally streaming down my face. My abdomen hurt so. freaking. much. but I just couldn't stop. I was laughing for at least 10 minutes. I realize this probably isn't very mature, but ... Norbert Weiner.

Let's see. What's been going on in television? A lot! I watched Veronica Mars this week. It was very good, but I don't really feel like discussing it. I probably won't feel like discussing next week's either. But still, very good. It occurred to me that I started watching this show in much the same way I started watching Buffy -- grudgingly. My sister was the one who told me about Buffy and said I'd probably like it. But I was totally against it. No thanks! And then I started watching it, and I tried to be blasé about it, but I couldn't, because I loved it. And that's sort of like Veronica Mars.

I also watched American Idol. Ha! I don't have much to say about it except the following: Every single person picked horrible songs that I hated. It was an all-around unpleasant experience. As for tonight, this is not the first time I've said this, but: I really don't understand the American voting public. WHAT. Seriously, WHAT. Mostly, I'm going to miss TWoP's hilarious commentaries on Constantine. They make my week.

And now for Lost!
[Begin Spoiler for the Catch Up Episode — Highlight to view]

Man, this was pretty pointless. I mean, on one level, I appreciate that they did this, because there's a lot of stuff going on in the show, and maybe some new people want to watch it but don't know what the hell is going on? It was a nice thought. But I was sad that there wasn't any insight for people who *have* been watching. I mean, I watched because I have nothing else to do with my Wednesday evenings. But really ... this show made Lost look far less fucked up than it is. And that made me a little sad. It's actually a lot weirder when you figure in the lame being cured, the mysterious corpses, resurrections, numerical curses, polar bears, and the freaky Satan child. This left out all the details, and I'm pretty sure (or at least hopeful) that those details are going to turn out to be import.

What was interesting, though, is noticing how much, for example, Shannon and Boone have affected the major plotlines and how little, for example, Jack and Kate have. Interesting.

[End Spoiler]

[Begin Spoiler for the preview for next week — Highlight to view]

Locke! Creepy Terry O'Quinn! I'm so upset! Poor Locke!

Did anyone else get the vibe that it seemed like Shannon is prepping Sayid to become her replacement Boone? You know, hiring a new person for the "person to lead around by the balls" slot in her life? I sure got that vibe. Which would be kind of cool, because she's so fucked up and unpleasant, even at a time when she's more or less sympathetic.

[End Spoiler]


Oh, also, speaking of my sister (which I did a while back), she was in the emergency room this past weekend. It turns out that she had a cyst on her ovary, and it burst. She's fine now, as is expected to be fine, though she'll be laid up for a few days. I'm not worried, and I know that this is not uncommon. To be honest, this makes me a little relieved. Because she's probably going to go on medication, and she'll probably be having regular follow-ups, just like I do. This means there will be a far less likely chance that her ovaries are going to develop cancer and kill her. And that's good.

Of course, both of my parents cried when they learned about this. Not bawling or anything, but they teared up. Which I guess is not entirely unexpected. But they're okay too.

Um. ... Norbert Weiner?

Working is for chumps.

And I am a chump.

So, as I may or probably may not have mentioned, I registered with an agency to find some employment of a transitory nature. Because ... bah. Long story. Let's just say it's because I like and need money. That's close enough to the truth.

This morning I was woken by my phone at 9:24AM. It was my friendly ... contact guy? and he wanted to know if I wanted to go on a job THIS VERY DAY. Honestly, I should have said no. And I knew, even as I was not saying no, that not saying no would be a huge mistake. But, anyway, I said sure. And he said he'd call me right back. So I got up and got online and AOL was stupid and I had some cereal. Then I figured I'd attempt to take a shower, bringing my phone in with me just in case. (Not in the actual shower.)

So, at about 11:30, I called him back. The assignment, if I chose to accept it was from today until next Wednesday. They would like me to come in at 1PM today.

FUCK NO! I did not say that. Almost. This fellow knows that I do not have a car. And this place? Not easily accessible without a car. But I called my father and asked if he would drive me in. Which he did. But I was going to have to find alternate means of transport home. More on this later.

I went first to the agency's office to fill out some tax things and show them my driver's license. I was supposed to bring two forms of ID, but I was tired irritable and rushing and forgot to look for where my passport may be stowed. I figured the hell with it. I'm legitimate and they know it.

Anyway, then it was on to the place. Which is a steel factory. A steel mill! Down in the Ironbound section of Newark. So named because of all it's metalworking and whatnot. I eventually found my way up to the office area where all the cubicles were. It was a pleasant and dull atmosphere and except for two ladies, all the employees were middle-aged to elderly men. Lots of gray hairs and spectacles.

My job was to answer the switchboard phone and then connect callers to all these people that I did not know. For about 15 minutes, it was high-stress and nerve-wracking, but then I figured out what I was doing and started putting faces to names and buttons, and then it was mind-numbingly boring. I took one break to use the lave, and tried to call my mother. Her phone was busy. Fuck. I went back and felt utterly frustrated because I was tied to this desk and phone, so I couldn't move.

But the company seems nice enough. And then 5 o'clock rolled around and the manager asked if I would be coming in tomorrow, and I agreed to that. AT 8 IN THE FUCKING MORNING. Am I stupid? Anyway.

There is a bus station right outside the building, and I had a little bus schedule. Which was completely retarded and unhelpful. Scheduled times are listed for 5 of the stops and there are about *twenty*-five on the route. Also, the direction I wanted to go to get to my destination? Apparently I actually want the other direction, even though that would be completely backwards according to the map. So after darting across the busy street to wait twenty minutes for a bus, I was informed that I had to go to the other side. So I went back across and waited about ten more minutes.

Then, crowded unpleasant-smelling bus. Furthermore according to the map, my destination doesn't seem very far away. Also, I have no idea where the fuck I am or where I'm going. So I get off the bus when I see a sign for the Broad St. Subway Station.

But, you know how, if you're on a highway, you can be somewhere around Washington D.C. and they'll have a sign that says "North - New York"? Yeah. It was kind of like that. I looked up to the skyline to find the Prudential building where my mother works, and I just walked towards that. I was actually somewhere in a very frightening and seedy neighborhood. I walked fast over broken beers bottles and past disreputable persons hanging out around gray and half-boarded-up buildings. My heart was racing, but not because I was walking as quickly as I was able (which I was) but rather because I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE at any moment. Seriously.

On the subject of walking, I happened to be wearing my mother's shoes today. This is because when I first started looking for work, I told my mother that I need to get some nice work shoes. It is rather impossible to find shoes that fit my short square toeless feet. Someday I'll have to ask Del how she manages. Anyway, I still have not purchased any new shoes, so I wound up wearing my mother's shoes, which is the exact situation I was hoping to avoid. My mother is a size 8. I am a size 6 1/2. I was not wearing shoes or stockings.

Because I was walking parallel to a major road that had only small streets intersecting it, I managed to walk for some ten or so blocks before I came to a red light and needed to stop. And after I had stopped walked for about ten seconds, THE PAIN caught up with me. Holy shit! Motherfucking OW! It felt like someone had pressed hot pokers into the soles of my feet, like they had rugburn or something.

I should also note that it was windy and my nose was running and I had no tissues. I was in an extremely unhappy mood and I kept muttering to myself about all the various sorts of harm I would do to anyone who tried to inhibit me. All told, I walked about twenty blocks until I got to the subway station.

At this point, I called my father and told him to pick me up at the usual picking up place. It was strange. At the beginning of my journey, I kept getting gawked at, presumabley because I looked attractive. By the end, I was still getting gawked at, only I think it was because people thought I was crazy. Which I might well have been. I distinctly remember having the desire to beat something to death.

The subway was, of course, crowded so I had to stand. I toed-off the back of one of my shoes and discovered with alarm that there was blood running down my heel. Jesus.

Eventually, I got home. An hour and 45 minutes after being released from work. I cleaned my wounds and went in my room to lay down. I called my fellow at the agency. I told him that the commute was extremely difficult, and while I would attempt to finish this assignment, as it wasn't very many days, I don't think I would like to do it again. I also requested that I be given at least 24 hours of notice on any future assignments.

Then I had reheated pizza. Because they were out of my soup at the store. But my mother made me a fruit and whipped cream dessert.

I have no idea how I'm going to get there by 8 tomorrow.

Questions Beth has asked me.

In a particular context, anyway.

1) I know you like chicken, but what's your favorite type  of chicken?
Chicken fingers. Hands down. (Hee.) My taste buds are, apparently, five.

2) What were you afraid of as a child?
Um. Probably a lot. But one thing I remember that I was specifically afraid of was the monster who totally lived in my closet. One day I decided to make my closet monster a present of some sort, and I left it in there. Afterwards, the monster was no longer menacing. It still lived there, but we were cool.

3) If you could change one thing about yourself (and not about your physical appearance), what would you alter?
Sadly, my first three options were physical things. I didn't even notice! Um. I guess I'd want to not be sick all the time, and in so many fashions. I think that would improve me a lot, beyond just the obvious of having better health.

4) What's your favorite episode of Angel  ? (I know the answer for Buffy!)
I'm not sure! The last episode I had listed as my favorite was "Darla." I still think that episode's pretty good, but there's probably one that I like better because it has Vincent Kartheiser in it. Maybe one of the latter Season 4 episodes. Yes, bitches, I *liked* the end of Season 4, and you're just going to have to deal with it.

5) What toppings do you not like on pizza?
I dislike all toppings that are not cheese! Seriously! So picky!

A German!

Congratulations to Joey Ratz. He is now a made man. From now on, he will go by his Family name: Benny 6-10.


This post has been brought to you by lunch with my father, who seriously cracks me up sometimes.

Goddamn it, Kirk.

I'm sorry. I totally forgot what other witty things might have made a good title for this entry.

Hi everybody! I was on vacation! To the Pacific time zone! The boy and I spent a bunch of time in the San Francisco Bay Area, hanging out with the Kirk and Mary-Jane. It was pretty good! You know, except for the part where the day after arriving I came down with a massive illness IN MY FACE. I don't know. I guess it was a cold. But there was all sorts of mucus and maybe fever, and at several points I wondered if I might die. So there was a bunch of days where I did nothing but stay in bed.

Luckily our hotel was really pretty and excessively girly and nice to be in. With a fireplace. And cable tv, so I got to see all the Pope Funeral that I could handle. And apparently, I can handle a lot. I just found it massively entertaining. If I'm ever religious, it's for all the ritual. All the chanting and the robes and the incense, man ... I don't know why anyone would want to be a religion other than Catholic. So cool.

There were also lots of cats. (And a doggy.) And important mailing of postcards. And I lost a bra and a pair of underwear. I'm not sure where or how.

I also lost my wallet in Sausalito, though I managed to locate it again. LUCKY.

I also lost my hat. Which is very upsetting. This is the one I blogged about, which most of my visited friends got to see (though I don't know if Kirk did). I was doing really well with keeping track of everything right up until the last minute and then everything fell apart. Maybe because I was so exhausted from the transportation and hauling and sickness. But, my hat is either stolen or in Boston right now. Tomorrow, Amtrak will tell me if I can get it back. I hope I can.

Before we headed back to the proper coast, we stopped for an interlude in Las Vegas. We stayed at Caesar's Palace! Naturally. That place was really nice. My bathroom had a bidet. I have never been so excited. Actually, everything was very nice and pretty, but also ... fake. Really fake. And there you go!

The important thing was that we got to hang out with the Spish! Bay-bee!! I've hugged Irina! She has the most entertaining baby face. Frankly, I don't think there's a more wholesome infant on the market today. Order yours now! I also watched some fish with Saren, who is my buddy, and Harper, who is my smaller buddy.

Also, the hotel was huge. No, HUGE. Freaking huge, people. It took us twenty minutes to get from our room to where we were to meet the Spish, then another half an hour or so to get confused and lost and find our way out onto the street and then more time to get back again. Planet Hollywood is no good, and Arnold Schwarzenegger has girly manhands.

On the flight back to Baltimore, we had this excessively strange stewardess (pardon - flight attendant) who called all the girls "Angel" and all the gents "Gorgeous."

Now I'm back in New Jersey, and I'm totally bored. But apparently, a whole hell of a lot happens in two weeks of internet time. I think I know too many people.

Another entry about Lost!

There's something very important I forgot to mention at the end of the last entry. It is this: Last night, I uttered the sentence, "The fellow was actually rather shirty with me." And I was not being ironic in the slightest.

Furthermore, I have decided that I have a problem. I tend to say affected things for dramatic purposes. However, I then have this habit of doing this so often that I actually wind up *saying* those things. Without irony. Such as today, when I was making up my PACKING LIST, I mentally noted how many pairs of underpants and pairs of bras I would need. Pairs of bras! What the hell! Seriously, I started saying this because I found it entertaining and atypical. I mean, really, if you can have a pair of pants, why can't you have a pair of bras? It's a unit item that covers two seperate yet related body parts. I guess. But the point is, when I thought this, I found the construction to be completely natural. This happens all the time! I worry that people will think I'm ill-educated or perhaps insane because I speak with affectations, but it doesn't sound like I am.

If that makes any sense.

What does this have to do with Lost? Nothing. This type of thing will have a lot of information that people who watch the show will already know, but may be useful to someone like Kirk or something.

[Begin Spoiler for Lost has Daddy Issues. Through "Deus Ex Machina." — Highlight to view]

So, as a person who has seen many shows by Joss Whedon, I have learned that fathers are the most horrible and hateful type of humans that exist. It's rare that you find a good one! Apparently. Even so, Lost seems to father issues. Let's discuss.

Jack
Jack of course has, well, the Daddy of daddy issues. Dad's a big ol' drunk, and a reasonabley jerky guy besides, and he's pretty much the basis for all Jack's adult hangups and neuroses. Yet Jack still follows his footsteps into the medical profession where he is a well respected man. Until his father has a nip too much before performing a surgery, and screws up in such a way that leads to the patient's death. Then Jack did the honorable thing and ratted out his dad, so he lost his job, his friends, ran off and eventually drank himself to death.

Kate
Not necessarily any daddy issues ... yet. I'm sure they're coming. Some people seem to believe that her "man she loved/killed" was in fact her father. And that's just weird, so we won't go there. What we do know, though, is that Kate hung out with her dad alot, and he taught her woodland expertise type things. So, she had some sort of functional relationship with him, which is more than most of the characters.

Sawyer
Father is a standard abuser who not-so-standardly murder-suicides Sawyer's parents.

Mercutio
Not necessarily father issues, (that I remember), but he has some issues with *being* a father. What with having his son kept from him for almost a decade and then having custody of this unknown son thrust upon him at the sudden death of his ex.

Walt
Mercutio is his dad. So, all that. Plus, his "dad" Brian secretly hated him and wanted to get rid of him because he's probably evil.

Sun
Her father is some kind of criminal kingpin, but she doesn't really know that. She probably knows something's up though, even if it's just that he seems to be a controlling jerk who tends to ruin people's lives.

Jin
His father is totally cool, but is poor and humble and all that, so Jin tells people that he's dead. Then he's overcome with guilt. Most of his daddy issues are really issues with his wife's daddy, who has totally ruined his life.

Boone
Boone actually has issues with his mother, which is kind of a refreshing change of pace.

Shannon
I don't think Shannon's relationship with her father is traumatic, per se. Her issue seems to be mainly that he's under the thumb of his new wife and doesn't give her any money. At least so far as I remember.

Naveen Andrews
We totally don't know anything about his parents.

Hurley
His father appears to be not in the picture, meaning he's probably dead or elsewhere, which would be issues in and of themselves, but so far it's not a main feature of his story.

Claire
Claire's pretty young to be supporting herself, so, that's probably something. But it's more likely that whatever issues she has are with both parents, not just her father. Though she does have issues with her baby daddy, as it were.

Charlie
We don't know anything about his parents, either. Though we do know he has some issues with God the Father.

Locke
The winner and new champion. Having passed through several decades of his life without ever knowing his biological parents, Locke's dad finally seeks him out via his mentally ill mother, promising her money she wants if she tracks their son down and points him in his general direction. He then fake-bonds with his long-lost son for the purpose of, wait for it, extorting a kidney from him. Son duped, organ received, he goes right back to keeping Locke out of his life.

Seriously!

[End Spoiler]

[Begin Spoiler for Some more questions, "Deus Ex Machina" — Highlight to view]

So, let's assume that Locke is right, and the island can actually exert its own will and power. Not that much of a stretch at this point. The question, then, is what does it want, and what did it intend?

First, did the island want Boone to pick up that receiver? In doing so, Boone's seemingly given the survivors a shot in getting off the island; it's possible that someone somewhere now knows there are survivors and will try to find them. Boone may have done everyone an enormous favor, but perhaps at the cost of his life. One thing is pretty clear: the island did not want Locke up in that plane. It told him there was a plane, and how to find it, but when they came to it, the island had Locke incapacitated. So we can assume that the island meant for Boone to get inside the plane. For what purpose? To kill him?

Inside the plane, Boone found some drugs and a body, but he also found a radio. Did the island want him to find that radio? After Boone found the radio is when the plane began to teeter out of the trees. Did the island not want him to use the radio? If Boone hadn't insisted on getting help to get off the island, would he have been able to get out of the plane? Is it because he was trying to get help that the island pushed the plane over? If he'd ignored it, would the island have let him live?

Maybe the point was to get rid of Boone. Locke was under the impression that he and Boone were both supposed to find the trap door, and they were both supposed to open it. But what if only Locke was supposed to open it? Boone was initially going to head back to camp on the night they found it. But since then he's been with Locke every day, and they've gotten closer, and they're in this together. So there's little chance that Locke would go out to the trapdoor without Boone with him. ...Unless something happened to Boone. And then if Locke wanted to go back (which he totally did), he'd have to go alone. And he did. And then the mysterious light came on.

As I've said before, Locke's totally not evil. And while he's totally on-board with being the emissary of the mystical island, this episode showed that he's not really clear on what's up with this island. I think all the things he's been doing to "help" the other survivors is his own agenda, his own do-gooding. And I think he probably does want to get off the island, and help everyone else get off. But what if that's not what the island wants him for? What if the island is, say, pure evil and wants to use Locke for evil purposes. Locke's not evil. But he's enamoured of the island. So will he figure it out? And if he does, what will he do?

[End Spoiler]

Please keep in mind that this is about 84% Crazy Speculation and needn't be taken seriously.

A whole mess of TV!

American Idol

This was a disheartening show in many ways. Let's see if I can remember everything I thought. Incidentally, I didn't watch it tonight, so I don't know who's kicked off yet. Anyway, so, the theme was "the 90s" and that was bizarre. The 90s were last year! Right? Anyway, this could have gone to scary places, but it sort of went ... no where. I'll explain.

Bo Bice. He went through almost his entire time onstage without creasing his forehead. But then right at the very end oh my God! Not only does he have the crease down the middle, but it's so deep he has an *undercrease* separating his nose and brow line. It makes you look like a caveman, Bo! It obscures your delightfully blue eyes! Stop it Bo! Stop it now! So, Black Crowes, eh? It's not like I know Bo personally or anything, but I totally wasn't even surprised. This is one of the only songs that made me think, "Yeah, that's 90s." Because I associate the Black Crowes with the 90s. Anyway, what Simon said was completely correct. Or at least, I agree with what I think Simon was trying to say, which is that when you sing these song that are "band" songs, it doesn't highlight your voice or your singing ability.

Jessica (I think). I tried to pay extra close attention to her, because last week the internet was all abuzz with how she was totally the best singer in the whole show, when I had been just ...whelmed by her performance. I think she has a beautiful voice. Perhaps the best *voice* in the competition. But in terms of using it and being the best *singer*? Not by a long shot. Her singing is ... unpolished. And what Simon said about her was also correct. She seems like a nice girl, but she's not "likeable" in the sense that I still barely remember her name when I have everyone else's down. Also, she was singing sharp for most of the song. Sorry Jessica (I think).

Anwar. Oh, Anwar. I don't really like you. I think you're boring and devoid of personality, and you represent the "hometown" as it were, which just makes me sad. And your song choice this evening did not endear you to me as you actually picked one of the few songs that I fucking *hate*. I actually hate R. Kelly. He's a gross skeezy bastard who writes stupid songs that make me want to stab myself in the ears. And the worst of these is "I Believe I Can Fly." As a rule, I tend to hate most songs that say something about spreading your wings and flying and crap like that, because, honestly, that's the definition of cheesy. Oily cheese, man. It makes me nauseous. And what makes this song particularly repellent is that it was the theme song ... to Space Jam. Fucking. Space. Jam. A movie about basketball with cartoon characters. Singing about how you can fly. I HATE THIS SONG SO MUCH. And I hate you for singing it, Anway. Seriously, I do.

Nadia. Oh, Nadia. I'm actually angry with Nadia. Really angry, actually. First off, hers was the other song that I identified as actually being a "90s" song. Now seriously. She forgot the fucking words again. I seem to recall that in one of the past seasons (maybe in the preliminary rounds) the judges made a big deal of fucking up the lyrics. But now no one seems to notice. Not even TWoP notices. Except for last week, when the recapper seemed to be endlessly entertained by her impromptu line "always with splircles." Anyway. This really bothers me. It bothers me that she's messed up lyrics two weeks in a row. It's not like these are not songs that she picked for herself! It's not like these aren't songs that everyone and their mother has heard fifty million times! I understand it's probably nerve-wracking and whatever, but you know what? Learn your fucking lines! Or songs. Or whatever. What really bothers me about this is what she misses. Like "but I'm the only one.... but I'm the only one" (instead of "AND I'm the only one") or "a second hand unwinds" instead of "THE second hand unwinds." I know this probably doesn't seem all the crucial, but honestly, to me it sounds like she's not paying attention to what she's singing. It sounds like she's not actually, you know, invested in the song at all. She's not telling a story, she's just spitting out words. And I don't like it. Another thing. Last week I was pleased with the way she performed and how she moved. It seemed fun and natural. But this week? She did the exact same things. Like that move where she brings her microphone down, throws her head over her right shoulder and smiles? And here's why this bothers me. It means that she's not actually moving to the music. That's just what she does when she performs. Like, I watched the James Marsters movie on USA, Cool Money, right? Yeah, yeah, I know. Anyway, I wanted to see how James Marsters did at another character. And he was mostly differentiated. But then, there were the quirks. In one scene, he tilted his head to the side. In another scene, he pursed his lips dramatically. In another scene, he walked *exactly like Spike.* And this made me very sad. Because all these little things that I previously believed to be an actor carefully crafting a character were in fact just "things Marsters does when he's 'acting'." And that's what Nadia made me feel.

So, yeah. Um. Other people?

Anthony Federov! Man, he's totally Ukranian! It's so cute. Also, I think I see what his appeal is now. Because when Simon told him he was awful, he looked all hurt and upset and I just wanted to hug him and tell him everything would be okay. Poor tiny Anthony. Anyway, I don't think Simon was right. I dislike it when he says dismissive things late into the competition. Unless he said them to Mikalah. Anyway, at this stage in the game, "You were terrible" with no qualifiers is unacceptable. He needs to tell them what, specifically, was bad, and what they need to work on. It's only fair.

Scott Uglyperson. I totally dislike him. He sounded like shit this week. Am I the only person who noticed? He sounded lazy and he had trouble hitting most of the notes probably. And if he's not going to sing well, I have no reason to trouble myself with him.

Constantine. Heee! He actually sang really well and was only a little creepy. And he was all expressive during the song and seemed like he actually knew what it was about! I really like that. It makes me happy. I still like him. He still entertains me.

Carrie. Holy shit! I didn't know that song was written in the 90s! My Weltanschauung is totally fucked! For reference, she sang that "Independence Day" song by [mainstream country music chick -- they all sound the same now], and I until then had totally believed that it was written post 9/11 and I hated it and the idea of it made me sick. It still kind of makes me sick because I know I only started hearing it on the radio after 9/11 and I know that's the reason why. But ... huh! Color me surprised! Anyway, it was totally a weird song choice, even besides the fact that I don't like the song. Apparently the whole first verse is about how the girl's daddy used to beat up her mommy? Uplifting! But Carrie sure sang the everloving hell out of that song. Really good.

Nikko. Dude, you know what? I don't even remember what he sang.

Vonzell. Weltanshauung: fucked yet again! I totally like her. I think she has replaced Nadia in my affections. She actually looked really pretty (in an interesting way!) even though I'm sure most of it is makeup. And while she started out shaky, she was really belting with aplomb by the end, and it was totally awesome. I totally like her.


Veronica Mars

Dude, this episode was awesome. Totally awesome. Yet, somehow, I feel awkward reviewing this show, because I don't feel like I'm a real fan. Maybe because I kept telling Kirk for so many weeks how I wasn't into it, and then I got into an now I feel like a big faker or something. I don't know! I should probably just get over it.

[Begin Spoiler for VM - "Betty And Veronica" — Highlight to view]

I adore Wallace. Seriously. He was kind of boring and ill-placed at first, but I really liked him in this episode and I liked every scene between him and Veronica. So cute.

I don't really care for the actress playing Lianne. Also - you know what I noticed? The chick who plays Duncan's new girlfriend totally looks like she could be her daughter. Way more than Kristen Bell does. Way, way more. They have the same eyes and the same oddly over-bit droopy lip thing that makes them look slightly goofy. Aside from the fact that Kristen Bell is blond, she really doesn't look anything like the woman. Though honestly, I can kind of see how she could be a product of her and Enrico Colantoni. Kinda!

Bettie! (yeah, it's with a "y" but who cares?) I totally loved her in these scenes. It was very entertaining. I was also really entertained by the new school, and the realization that high schools really are pretty much the same everywhere you go. And the people are all the same, too, they just look different.

And as for everything else? DAMN. I don't even know what to think.

[End Spoiler]


Lost

[Begin Spoiler for Lost - "Deus Ex Machina" — Highlight to view]

Speaking of not knowing what to think! HOLY SHIT!

I may have lost my thread of Veronica Mars thinking, because my brain was completely blasted by Lost tonight.

Say it with me everyone (or everyone who's a squealing girl): "Poor Tiny Locke!" I knew there was a reason I love him and wanted to hug him and call him George. Dude. Man. Jesus.

Poor Boone! Don't die Boone! Although seriously, this was broadcast from lightyears away. Way to really miss the most pertinent part of your disturbing acid dream, John. Locke's not evil, he's just confused. But really, he should have known better.

On the other hand, when the statue broke apart and heroin popped out, my first thought was of how happy Charlie would be. "Oh boy!" Or maybe he'd be pissed off, seeing as he's just quit and then a miraculous stash appears out of the sky. Just his luck!

I wasn't annoyed by the subplot or anything, which was strange. I think it was actually a great tone set alongside the totally mindfuck of the other plot line.

But now ... WHAT THE FUCK! I'm so confused I don't even know what to think. I just hope Boone doesn't die. Even though ... he quite possibley will. Because I don't have a screencap or anything, but that quick flash really looked like organs.

Also, the title of this episode is brilliant.

[End Spoiler]

Oh, I have one.

Inspired by Beth, inspired by Ryan.

"Immigrant Song," Led Zeppelin

• Features of our homeland:
  
  • Ice and snow
    
  • Midnight Sun
    
  • Blowing hot springs
  
  
  Features of our destination:
  
  • Hordes
    
  • Tales of gore (whispered)
    
  • Soft green fields
  
  
  How we're getting there:
  
  • Driven by Hammer of the Gods
    
  • Threshing oars
  
  
  Trip goals and activities:
  
  • The western shore (ultimately)
    
  • Fight hordes
    
  • Sing
    
  • Cry "Valhalla I am coming"
    
  • Calm tides of war
  
  
  Advice for natives:
  
  • Stop rebuilding ruins
    
  • Allow for peace and trust (even though you lost)
  
  
  Who we are:
  
  • Your overlords

The continuing saga of my being old and ugly.

I believe that my hair is falling out.

You shouldn't read this entry if you, for some reason, find hair that isn't attached to a human head particularly repellent. Just sayin'.

When I last saw my doctor, he asked me some questions about the state of my hair. One, did I notice that the type on my body seemed to be more prominent? And two, did it seem like the type on my head was falling out?

At the time, I said no to both. Though to tell you the truth, I hadn't really been paying attention. Since then, I have. And alarmingly, I do think I'm hairier. Though I could be imagining it. It could be a paranoid delusion. I can't really tell.

However, I am definitely sure that my hair is shedding at a faster rate than is normal. As those of you who've heard me talk about my hair before might know, whilst I'm in the shower, I finger-comb my hair and prevent all the loose strands from going down the drain by adhering them to the shower wall. Fun! ... I remove it when I'm done. Anyway, back when my hair was insanely long, the wall would get very hairy indeed. It made me somewhat alarmed, but then I reasoned that while the amount of hair seemed large, it probably wasn't, since each strand was very ... great. Then when I cut all my hair off and was bald, the amount of hair in the shower decreased dramatically, and this seemed to prove my point.

My shower wall now acquires more hair than it did when my hair was 6 inches longer. The mass is such that swirling a single finger around no longer winds the hair up into a neat little ball for easy disposal. No, I now use three fingers. And I've been throwing enormous, near-palm-sized bundles of hair into the trash every day. And yet more hair comes out when I brush my hair, and when I blow-dry my hair, and then when I brush my hair again, and ... it's a lot of hair. Way more than approximately 100 strands per day, which is what I once heard was average.

What really tipped me off, though, is that when I make my bed these days, I'm picking at least 20 strands of hair off my pillows and sheets. ALARMING.

Today I asked my mother if she thought I seemed to be shedding abnormally. She said yes. (Side note: I know my mother loves me and doesn't want to criticize my appearance, but I really wish she'd point things like this out to me. Especially since they tend to have a medical significance with me.)

Today, my hair feels thin. Again, this could be a hallucination, because it didn't feel thin yesterday, but ... I've been losing many strands of hair. All my life my hair has been very thick. Remarkably thick, even, because any time I've gotten a haircut, the hair cutter has remarked on its thickness. As I've probably proved in the past, I'm rather emotionally and overly attached to my hair. I don't want anything to be wrong with my hair.

So, Monday I will call my doctor. Hopefully that will make my hair grow back.

Again!

American Idol Review! Because nothing else is on. I'm pretty sure I know most of the people by name now. And if I don't, I'm not going to look them up, because that means they have yet to impress me in any way.

Overall impression: the judges were really lenient. Randy and Paula anyway, and Simon seemed like he was too overwhelmed by all the positive vibing around him to get into any actual, solid critiques, though you could tell he wanted to. Also, I was universally disappointed in all the people I liked last week.

First up, Anthony Fedorov. Or however you spell it. Crystal. OH MY GOD. You are so right! What is up with that thing? That's not a normal body ... having. WHAT IS THAT? Was he shot in the neck, or something? Also, he was really boring. Also, is he foreign or something? I noticed that when he talked he had slight trouble saying "th" and a few other sounds. Maybe! I don't know.

Carrie blondegirl. Underwood? Anyway. I like her. I do. TWoP doesn't like her, but I like her. I can see how people probably think she's boring, and I can respect that, but ... eh. I don't know. She just seems very sweet and likeable to me. And so I like her! And I think she did an effective job not being "country" tonight, though she really should understand that it isn't *what* she sings that makes her sound country, it's *how* she sings. And when she started, she still had a twang, and I was all set to roll my eyes, but she got it under control. I didn't think she was that great, though. She didn't sell the song. I kind of didn't care, though, because (and now I have to make The Boy weep bitterly - I'm sorry dear) Heart makes me rock out. The pick could only have been better if she'd chosen "What About Love." Hooray! But she wasn't as good as the judges seemed to think she was.

That Scott guy? He sings really well. But he's not going to win. Seriously.

Nikko? Still a girl's name. He sounded okay, but he sounded ... how to put this ... like about a dozen other guys who are *just like that.* And he didn't even sound like the best of those guys. He sounded maybe in the middle. We don't need any more of those guys.

I realize that I'm no longer going in order.

Vonzell. I have the reverse problem with her name that I have with Nikko. First: what? Second: even though I've never heard this "name" before, it sounds like a boy's name. Doesn't it? It sounds like a name that would be given to a boy. Anyway, she was better this week, but I disagree with Simon, I think she's still forgettable. Even her looks. As soon as I saw her, I decided that she was boringly pretty. You know what I mean? Do you know those people? Where they're pretty, very pretty even, and it's not really even a debate, but they're just ... boring looking? Like, even though you recognize that they're pretty, they're pretty in a boring, generic, uninteresting way? She doesn't look at all interesting. And she seems sweet, but like she doesn't have any real personality to speak of.

On the other hand: Nadia. First, my disappointment. Who the fuck forgets the words to "Time After Time"? Nadia, you are out of the club. I don't even know what club it is, but I know you're out of it. Who forgets the words to "Time After Time"?? But she was okay. Better, I think, than the judges gave her credit for. I thought she actually had a good balance between "performing" the song and singing it. She performed it, but at the same time, you could still hear her singing, and it was good. And goddamn, I want her hair. I wish I had her hair just for like, a day. And I also like the fact that she claimed that most of the songs she likes never made it on a Number Ones list. I believe her, y'all. She's still my favorite.

Anwar: is like the female Vonzell, only even more boring. Far more boring, actually, because I think he might actually be attractive in an interesting way if he had an actual personality. Which I don't think he does.

Constantine. First of all, your name is stupid and makes me laugh. I still think you're kind of cute though. But apparently the good people at TWoP think he's awkward and creepy. And, I have to tell you, not that I'm letting my opinion be swayed (not really) but ... they have a point. Much of what they said about him had me dying, because I immediately recognized their innate truth. Some gems: "He's dressed all sixties, I guess, but more like a record-store owner who really wants to get the band back together." And "This also causes Constantine to devolve into an explosively impressive suicide girl mess, fake eye-fucking and lip-pursing and tongue-moving and all kinds of tics and shady glances and hair-acting and posing and posture experiments." And ""

Anyway. His performance? Kinda creepy. And angry. And it was "I Think I Love You." But I find him entertaining, actually. And he's still kind of cute when he's not making any expressions.

You know who totally is cute, though? Bo Bice. And he's got one of those names that makes me need to say both his first and last name. Bo Bice. His hair was so much better today. He's got nice hair. And blue, blue eyes. And I really am that easy, apparently. Bo Bice also sings really well, and I think we should be friends. And as his friend, I would have to tell him something extremely important. Something that I noticed. About his physical appearance. Bo Bice. Has. A CREASE. No!!!! Bo Bice! I'm so sorry! I know your pain! Listen. Listen to me, Bo Bice. This is important. You have to stop scrunching your eyebrows. I know, I know. I know it's hard, and Lord knows it's not easy for me, but if you stop scrunching your eyebrows, so will I. Let's beat this thing together, Bo Bice.

Let's see. Who's next? Oh yes, Girl Whose Name I Cannot Remember. I can't remember her name. But I have to say to her: Who the fuck forgets the words to Total Eclipse Of The Heart!! Jesus! You're out of my club too. Out. Get out. But her singing was okay. But boring. Not as good as the judges thought she did. But nice. But boring. But she seems like she probably does have a cute personality, though. But she won't win. BECAUSE I CANNNOT REMEMBER HER NAME.

And last I will mention Mikalah. Because she deserves to be last. Because she can't sing. All the other people in the competition at this point can actually sing competently. They can actually all sing *well*, if boringly. Mikalah can not. Mikalah needs to go home.


I HAVE CEASED TO TALK ABOUT AMERICAN IDOL AT THIS POINT.

So it turns out that I didn't have tonsilitis. I probably have an ear infection. But I took lots of vitamins and soup and I slept a lot, and I think it's better now. The pain seems to have gone.

I also watched Veronica Mars again! It's new next week! So I'll probably recap it for the benefit of Kirk and Beth. You know what, though? Kristen Bell has a crease, too. It's epidemic. Sigh. She also had forehead lines, though. And I don't have those, thank goodness. You know, there is nothing that signifies that an actor is not actually a teenager so much as forehead lines. Because teenagers do not have that. Teenagers don't have creases, either. Probably. Because you don't get those unless you're old. Old like I am. [weeps]

In completely unrelated news, I cleaned my keyboard today. HOLY CRAP IT NEEDED IT.

In yet more unrelated news, I have been reading The Silmarillion by J.R.R. Tolkien. And, this may be solely because I am a huge geek, but, I find it so sexy. It's awesome and great! And it occurs to me that this is the first new book I have read in months. MONTHS. I don't even know how long it's been since I've read a new book. I mean, I've still been reading fairly steadily, but the last maybe ten books that I've read? Were all books that I've read before. And I'm not even sure this should count, because it still has many of the same characters and takes place in the same world as books I've already read. I haven't read anything wholly *new* in a long time. I don't like change. And I don't know what I can read that I haven't already that I'll like.

Gah.