I don't know why I decided to go to a tea party. I needed to go to the library anyway and I'd be passing by the courthouse (where the tea party was held), so I thought I'd check it out as I went by. The Facebook group for the local branch had 9 people RSVP-ing "yes" to attending, so I wasn't expecting that many people to be there...and they weren't. I'd estimate about 100 or so, at any given time. That's why I was surprised to see that the local paper said 600 were there. I'd find it interesting to learn that there is enough parking downtown to support that number of people, especially since the party started at 4PM.

Clean cups! Change seats! )

*Is he holding an uprooted tree? What is going on?
wolfpangs: (made a swiveling chair--now I nap)
Five hundred nervous fits later, I finally got my first paper for Early Republic back:

Ooh, suspense... )

And in other American history news, I finished Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter today and while I'm not sure how I feel about the very end, it was a fun read.
The 3 dumbest things I read concerning American school childrens this week:

1) Rather than allow a lesbian student to attend with her girlfriend, the local school board in Fulton, MS, votes to cancel Itawamba Agricultural High School's senior prom for everyone.
2) A middle school student who was handed Adderall and handed it back was suspended because having it in her hand constitutes possession.
3) "The board approves the amendment, taking Thomas Jefferson OUT of the world history standards." I...just...how...this...aaarage stroke.

Going for the EGOT in civic duty:

1) I did my part on Tuesday, voting in the special election on whether or not to legalize the sale of alcohol in this city only. By a margin of 28 votes, the measure is denied. The city stays dry.
2) Via buccal swab, I donated samples to the marrow registry. As I was doing so, I laughed about my family's commitment to medical science--I was, after all, giving this sample in the same building where I have anthropology (and Psychology and Law). I was complaining about the tables in that building when my sister said, "You know that's where PawPaw is, right?" I did not know that. See, my paternal grandfather died last fall and that's when we found out that he'd donated his body to UAB. And now he's in Campbell Hall, where I am twice a week.

[By the way, speaking of my family and our association with medical science--people can have all sorts of opinions. Isn't that great? A world full of people with opinions. It's nice. And you can express those opinions whenever you want. But see, here's the thing. If you are a Gonstead chiropractor who's anti-vaccination, please don't use my family's name in association with expressing this viewpoint. The Gonst(e)ad family is strongly pro-vax and we want no part of your monkeyshines.]

Also, Tuesday, I developed a raging toothache. After realizing that I'd downed 6 OTC pain relievers in the first coupla hours I'd been at work, I called my mother and begged her to break the glass on my emergency Vicodin stash, which she did. I was supposed to have a filling last week, but the appointment was canceled the day of. So, I went to the dentist Thursday afternoon, following a long day of school. This visit, like the last visit, I saw the other guy who works there, the newer guy, not the practice owner whom I'm used to.

He asked me if anything aggravated the tooth pain and I said only cold drinks and foods. He asked if anything relieved the pain and I said painkillers. I wasn't sure what else I could say. The same night my mom brought the Vicodin, she also brought some eugenol. That worked somewhat, but really it only masked the pain around the tooth and oh yeah, it tasted like fellating a zombie. I'm not sure if this was some sort of tell that triggered the addiction interrogation procedure, but that's what it felt like I got, which, look. I've been going to this practice for a few years now. I've gotten a sum total of two prescriptions for Vicodin issued before Thursday, each for ten pills each. Each prescription was issued at least a year ago. If I were feenin' for Vicodin, one would think I'd be working a little harder to get it.

Dr.: Do you have any allergies?
Me: Not really.
Dr.: "Not really"?
Me: Nothing that would affect anything here.

I am allergic to liquid All detergent and I have a strong sensitivity to dextromethorphan. As long as we're not doing laundry and/or robotripping, it's cool.

Dr.: Do you take any medication?
Me: No.
Dr.: When's the last time you visited a doctor?

I am going to assume he meant more of a general doctor, not specialists, and doesn't want to hear about my visit last week to talk about my upcoming "lid eval" for my Forest Whitaker eye. Anyway, the last time I saw someone for something other than a specific body part was that time I ripped my artery open and they stapled me back together.

Dr.: So no medication?
Me: I take a multivitamin. And biotin. Sometimes I take extra vitamin C and iron.
Dr.: No birth control?

Is "birth control" code for any of those things I just said? Then, no.

Dr.: Are you pregnant or is there a chance you could be pregnant?
Me: Oh, child. Bless your heart.

It was so irritating. They knew there was an outstanding problem--I'd had the filling scheduled, after all, and he'd noticed himself that there were issues with the teeth that were hurting. I'm sorry that they couldn't pinpoint for themselves what exactly was causing the problem, but gah. At one point, he asked if a root canal would be something I'd want to look into and I was like, "Just give me a root canal. Just do it. I don't care." And I don't. Root canals don't scare me. I am more haunted by the fact that I can't eat the delicious frozen mango in my freezer right now.

Finally, I got my Vicodin and I have my mango so I've got that going for me, which is nice. Also, I'm not sure if you know this, but Christoph Waltz won an Oscar.* Below: The photo metaphor of my deepest wish.



PS: I see what you did there, Colbert.

*This has been my favorite thing to say to everyone this week.
Last evening, according to my Twitter feed, a lot of people watched Glenn Beck's disastrous interview with Eric Massa. Judging by the breathless tweets, it was the first time many of us had been to that particular rodeo and we were woefully unprepared for things like how freakin' scary the commercials during Glenn Beck's cower hour are. Most of them are for gold and gold-related businesses, including one that featured Scott Winters (I did not like them apples) and another featuring my old pal. However, a few others stood out, like the International Fellowship of Christians and Jews's ad promoting their program to help feed Holocaust survivors in the former Soviet Union. Oh and this piece of total nutbaggery for something called the "Survival Seed Bank," with which you can grow your "crisis garden." Because I care, I visited the site so you don't have to.

Read more... )

Yikes.
Sean Penn wants me dead. Well, me and anyone else, I guess, who has the temerity to criticize his charitable efforts. We may have the spleen or spine or nerve to criticize him, but he's thinking about an entirely different body part.

Penn says he ignores the negative chatter. "I guess I’ve been so away from it all–-and our tent camp in Haiti--that I haven’t had an awful lot of time to pay attention to them," he says. "You know, do I hope that those people die screaming of rectal cancer? Yeah. You know, but I’m not going to spend a lot of energy on it."

I kind of love that last part. Yeah, I want them to be eviscerated and then tossed into a giant vat of rice pudding, but whatever. Nothing too complicated.

And also, to be fair (mostly to me!), I have no idea what he's doing in Haiti. But I know what he did in New Orleans. Remember when he got there?

[Larry] King: How soon after?

Penn: I got there on day four.

Matt Taibbi wrote in Rolling Stone, "It's a little before midnight on Friday, September 2nd, and I'm sitting in a hotel bar in Houston...Now he and Penn are talking about commandeering private jets, helicopters and weapons for a grand mission into hell that begins tomorrow."

Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans on 29 August. Day 4 would have been the first of September. So the idea of Penn's plan didn't even germinate until 2 September, the early hours of day 5. For you longtime readers, here's a reminder of where I was when he was thinking about going to New Orleans: "...I didn't really sleep again until 2 September, when I got to my room in Philadelphia."

By the way, why did they want to go to New Orleans? The "he" in the earlier quote from Taibbi is Douglas Brinkley, who left his cats and housekeeper in New Orleans when he evacuated. So, Taibbi writes, "...here we are, a bunch of half-drunk, affluent white people quaffing eleven-dollar foreign beers and planning what appears to be a paramilitary mission to rescue two cats and a maid in the wreckage of New Orleans."

The Penn party actually didn't get into New Orleans until after midnight on the 3rd ("When we got into New Orleans, it was already midnight the first night we got in..."). He was out and humanitarianing in New Orleans only on the 4th. So he didn't do anything in New Orleans until DAY SEVEN, went there originally on a personal mission, wore a bulletproof vest (unlike everyone else in his boat), and struggled to get through those raging eight inch floodwaters that whole day he was there. I didn't even mention the shotgun he carried or having to bail out the boat with a Solo cup. So, it's possible that he doesn't want me dead at all. He does have a problem with accuracy, after all. Maybe he just wants us all to have uncomfortable beds or to be slightly dyspeptic. Who knows?

And for the record, I don't have anything against anyone helping people, although I do think that in cases like this, it's far better to direct money and resources to people with the experience and expertise to do real good, rather than just charter a plane and bail out somewhere over Port-au-Prince. Or Baton Rouge. But I don't think saying so is going to make any difference to Sean Penn, so shine on, you crazy diamond. Can someone get him Andy Dufresne's rock hammer? He's got some tunneling to do.
I should really be studying for my anthropology test. Actually, I should have done that last night instead of building an emergency pug portfolio for [livejournal.com profile] zooby. Priorities, man! Before I get back to that, movie talk!

This weekend I finally finished watching The Carter, the documentary about my bb Lil Wayne. It was cramazing. The trailer:






He should be dead within 30 seconds. The werewolf heart is about two-thirds the size of a human's. But in order to shrink, first it has to stop. In other words, he has a heart attack. All of the internal organs are smaller, so while he's having his heart attack, he's having liver and kidney failure, too. If he stops screaming it's not because the pain has dulled; his throat, gullet and vocal chords are tearing and reforming. He literally can't make a sound. By now the pituitary gland should be working overtime, flooding his body with endorphins to ease some of the pain, but that too has shut down. Anyone else would have died of shock long ago. But it won't kill him and that's the thing I find most remarkable. It drags him through the fire and keeps him alive and even conscious to endure every second. Nothing like this could just evolve. This...is the finger print of God. An impossible lethal curse spread by tooth and claw, victim begets victim begets victim. It's so cruel, it's...perfect.



For Valentine's Day, my present was seeing The Wolfman. I was very excited about it, because a) it is relevant to my interests and b) in the past week, I've been kind of struggling with the thought that I may have unleashed a monster on the world. You know--same ol', same ol'. (My ex-boyfriend is embarrassing!) Anyway, there's no possible way I can be objective about the movie, particularly since I spent most of it looking like this: :D

Thoughts: It was bloodier than I expected it to be. I loved the furnishings of Talbot Hall, minus the leaves on the floor and the cobwebs (I kept getting distracted, thinking, y'all need to clean). I also loved Emily Blunt's forest-runnin' dress, which I'm sure [livejournal.com profile] cleolinda already has screencapped and cross-referenced ("...cornflower crepe de chine with a hook-and-eye closure..."). At the gypsy camp, did every other dude look like Bret McKenzie or was that just me? There were about 500 jump scares. But overall, I didn't find it that scary. I dunno, werewolves just don't frighten me.
This was a week full of surprises! First, I watched the activities at Gobbler's Knob (heeheehee) live online. I watched it full screen on my monitor at work while B sat there next to me reading the paper. It was longer than I thought it would be (TWSS), mainly because there are like, 20 guys in the Inner Circle and everyone has to be introduced. Then they opened the door in the tree stump and brought forth the famous timorous beastie who, of course, saw his shadow. [Gen. Beauregard Lee, the southern version, did not see his shadow. He does, however, hold a doctorate in southern groundology. I'm jealous of a rodent's fake degree.] Some time later, B goes, "When are they going to do the groundhog thing?"

"Um, an hour ago."
"What?!"
"Yeah, it was like an hour ago. I was watching it on the computer."

She thought I'd been watching a movie. I don't know what movies she thinks I watch that involve a bunch of men in top hats handling a groundhog.

After that, I rushed home to catch the Oscar nomination press conference, which went by quickly. I have Basterds in my heart, but I'm amenable to The Hurt Locker taking the top spot. I'm undecided on Best Actor. For Best Supporting Actor, my bb Christoph Waltz, obviously. I have absolutely no opinion on the Actress categories and in fact, am kind of whelmed by the nominations. I think it speaks to the dearth of opportunities for actresses that those are the best choices they could come up with. Everything else, I'm mostly ambivalent about except I'd like The White Ribbon to win in its categories.

And then FOB maybe is/maybe isn't together anymore? Between that and NKOTB's appearance on Fallon, my inner teenager had a very tumultuous week. I am kind of bummed about it, I guess, but I've had the feeling since "What A Catch" that the end was near.

Thursday, I skipped my last class and that turned out to be a good thing because my alternator crapped out while I was careening down the interstate. My display dimmed, I noticed the wipers were slow, the radio shut off, and my speedometer plunked to zero. "Are you still able to drive normal speed?" my mom asked after I frantically called her. "I have no idea how fast I'm going!" It was a good thing that I skipped class because if I hadn't, that might have happened much later, when there would have been less help available. They sent a tow truck for me and now I'm driving the "courtesy vehicle," which is a ginormous Crown Vic. With "COURTESY VEHICLE" printed on each side. And an Auburn sticker on the back window. :(

Friday, I awoke to a call from work, asking me to come in and help fix an issue with one of the door locks. "Are you the maintenance man?" my mom asked. Yes, and tech support and human resources investigator.

In two days, my bb Lil Wayne goes to jail for a YEAR. :( x infinity. I'm not sure how this benefits society, but I'm sure someone on Twitter can misspell it for me.



Also, this week I read The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, which was excellent, and saw the movie version, Men That Hate Women, which was less than excellent. It wasn't a bad movie, but I really didn't like some of the choices they made with the story. I understand that they had to condense some of the plot, but they also made changes I was not pleased with and in some cases, didn't seem to be for any reason--like changing the names in Harriet's date book (and the numbers they corresponded with). Why? And I hate the "I'm going to break into the suspect's house to see if I can find anything" trope. What do they expect, a note on the fridge all, "Remember not to mention you killed that girl"? I also thought the characterization of Lisbeth especially was lacking compared to the book, where you get a better sense of her motivations. And man, poor Henrik. Anyway, it was well made, but I preferred the detail you get with the book

I also read Karen Russell's St. Lucy's Home For Girls Raised By Wolves*, but I'll talk more about that later, because now I have to go mine in the sleep caves.

*Now I'm reading Elizabeth Clark's thesis on female werewolves. Eee!
Last week was stupid:

a) Violent Films class turned out to be not so great.

I dropped my violent film class. Perhaps I will take it at a later time, but this semester, having a class from 5:30PM-8PM is just not feasible. Plus, I wasn't that thrilled with the instructor. For one thing, he needs to distinguish between fact and opinion. I saw that same remark on ratemyprofessors, but usually that's just code for "told me I was wrong." In this case, he sets up questions with debateable answers as if they require fact-based answers. Like, "Which film is the pinnacle of betrayal movies?"** I didn't realize we'd had a definitive vote. Also, I didn't really care for his attitude, the way he was dismissive of movies that he clearly hadn't seen, among other things. He said that Hostel was an example of "as violent a film as you could think of," and at first, I was like, you need to see more movies. Then, he seemed to think that Hostel had a limited release (?), and made no social statements. Later, he told us that we'd need to read legitimate critics and not the "Live At Channel Five" kind of stuff or people like Ebert. Um, excuse you. But the biggest crime...we spent the last half of the class watching Gomorrah, which I'd been wanting to see, but hadn't gotten around to yet. It came out last year, but its release, unlike Hostel's, actually was limited. We didn't finish the movie by the time class was almost over, SO HE TOLD US HOW IT ENDED.

My pearls shattered from the force of my clutching them.

[I dropped the film class for Psychology and Law, which seems interesting so far, although I involuntarily make a face every time the teacher refers to his libertarianism. I also have that problem in Early Republic when the teacher refers to Alexander Hamilton. In P&L, we have to use this thingy called an iclicker. It's like a remote and we use it to take pop quizzes and answer impromptu polls, much like the electronic trivia games they have in certain restaurants. It's kind of fun.]
b) Had to stay at work TEN HOURS to fix malware-related issues [I came back to work from the weekend to find it had messed up agaiRAGE STROKE].
c) Car wouldn't start [because I was like, "Heh, I'ma go crank up my car since I'm about to leave"...two hours later, I finally got to leave].
d) I know some other stuff went down, but I've apparently already blocked it out. Oh, I bought a new workout shirt and it gave me a rash.

The weekend was great:

a) Since the week was rough, I planned a soft weekend: nothing but watching movies and maybe reading and working on this cross-stitching project I've been thinking about for a while. The second season of Being Human just started too, so that was nice. I think I may recap it for Boob Tube.
b) I watched World's Greatest Dad, The Hurt Locker, and Up in the Air. I liked all three.
c) It kind of makes me laugh that people are apparently renting World's Greatest Dad and just expecting it to be a heart-warming Robin Williams family film. They are apparently missing the fact that it was written and directed by Bobcat Goldthwait. And that it's about [minor spoiler] a high school* poetry teacher whose obnoxious teenage son accidentally dies in an autoerotic asphyxiation accident.
d) The Hurt Locker, although outstanding, was perhaps not the best movie to watch in my sensitive state. Why I decided to follow that with Up in the Air, during which I sobbed like a little girl at the firing sequences, is beyond me.
e) I went out for dinner with my mom and I've been daydreaming about the baked crab ever since. So yummy.

Things that make me want to punch myself in my nonexistent balls:

a) Owl City, esp in that one song where he's like "I keep them in a jar." I believe it's called "Firefly Snuff Film."
b) The Tonight Show shenanigans
c) This weekend's episode of SNL
d) About this Avatar win: Now, I wasn't that upset about it winning...at first. I did think that The Hurt Locker deserved it more, but I dunno. I was feeling pretty mellow, I guess. I was probably still half-asleep. I was only slightly annoyed when James Cameron spoke Na'vi because of course, he's going to speak Na'vi. But when he wanted everyone in the room to give themselves a round of applause for having such great jobs, oh golly gee?



Things about the Golden Globes that did not send me into rage comas:

a) Hey, Christoph Waltz: Are you an ass scientist, because your ass--blah blah blah, you get the point.
b) When The White Ribbon won, I "Woo!"ed embarrassingly loudly.

...also, after the Golden Globes, I watched Aziz Ansari's standup special, which I'd DVR-ed and laughed so hard it made me dizzy.

*Said high school's mascot is, of course, the Fighting Pugs...Tanis.
**The answer was Donnie Brasco.
Although I was initially slightly miffed (I was totally sour) about my school being the only one in the region--nay, the state*--which was not canceled on Snow Day/BCS Championship Game Day, I must admit that it was kind of nice not having that much traffic on the way to school. Also, I really like driving in the snow. Walking in it, not so much. In fact, it was when I was getting teabagged by snow flakes on my way to anthropology class that I wondered if I could, in fact, melt the snow by the heat of my pure rage.

Speaking of, you know how to make a class of students already irritated that they're in class while no one else is even madder? Have the first website you bring up on the overhead be "10 Reasons Why Texas Will Beat Alabama." (PS: Some chicken, some neck.)

About a week before school started, I'd been eager to return, actually getting bored with winter break. What was I thinking? There was Christmas and I got some pretty cool things, including the floral print Doc Martens I wanted from my mom and Hunter boots from my dad (I live in t-shirts and boots, yes). The Docs have helped a lot with the ongoing snow. In fact, they probably would have helped the dude I saw break his leg as I was arriving at the bookstore on Friday. He stepped off the curb and that was it.

Tomorrow I will go back to school and here is a pointless complaint: I hate the tables in my anthro class. They're not regular tables with regular chairs--the chairs are connected to the table, two at a time, and they swivel and dip and rotate on their axes like a non-mechanized Scrambler. Theoretically, I think, a person with normal length legs would sit there normally, all la dee dah, look at me--I have human size legs. Smaller people, like myself, instead have to cling to the table like a wood tick, because every time I let go, I feel not unlike I'm going to be flung against the wall. I just want to go back to my building (the home of the history dept), where the tables are normal. And all my other classes are in the same room (save forensic science, which is online).

Upside, the guy who sits in front of me kind of looks like Ezra Koenig**. He wore a trenchcoat to class on Thursday. And a sweater over a buttondown. He has a Vineyard Vines sticker on his laptop. He is so preppy that I almost can't take it.

Tonight, I went to Hobby Lobby, to pick up some supplies for a terrible cross-stitch project I'm working on. It shares a wall with a gym and I guess Monday's an aerobics night, because the whole time I was in that corner of the store, I'd hear periodic yelps of encouragement. Shopping was very exciting. WOOOOOOOO, EMBROIDERING WITH A HOOP!

[Sidenote: Perfume people, they're selling these boxes that are ostensibly for tea storage, but would be perfect for 5ml bottles--lids with glass insets, built in dividers.]

*Possibly not true
**I call him space student. PS: "I Think Ur A Contra" rulez!


Today's TeeFury design almost makes up for my missing out on the Leia the Riveter tee (no, it doesn't).
I read Shiver by [livejournal.com profile] m_stiefvater and I really liked it. It's like Twilight if Edward were a werewolf and Bella had friends and purpose and actually acted as a protagonist in her own life and oh yeah, they actually had sex. So...not so much like Twilight after all, I guess. It was a fun Y/A time and Maggie Stiefvater is a lovely person. Her last name is pronounced "Steve Otter," by the way. How I picture Steve Otter, below:



The book starts with Grace's memory of being dragged from her backward swing by a pack of wolves, which had the effect of dislodging a memory I'd misplaced. I was attacked by a wild dog when I was about six. It dragged me away. I had a bite print on my foot for the longest time. I say I misplaced the memory because it wasn't as if it were so traumatizing that I repressed it. Even at the time, I wasn't scared. [At first I was like, "Oh no!" but then I was like, "This is a story." And a good one.] But I hadn't thought about it in years until I read the book.

Now I'm reading Sharp Teeth by Toby Barlow and watching Das weiße Band nervously because I know what Michael Haneke is capable of. I'm also planning to watch The Hurt Locker today (and maybe go Christmas shopping later), so apparently I'm also planning to have the most stressful day possible. Maybe I'll go see Antichrist, too. Or wrestle a bear. Play Operation. On a high wire. That's part of a Rube Goldberg device.

But first, a conversation that pretty much sums up my experience with Avatar:

My Mother Talks To Her (Male) Employee, A Play in 1 Act--

[This employee went to see Avatar with another male employee. They are not a couple.]

Employee: Usually [he] and I talk the whole time during movies [Editor's Note: Ugh], but we didn't say a word.
My mom: Did you hold hands?
Employee: No, but it was so pretty that I wanted to.
If you haven't heard the story about the guy from Texas who singlehandedly Jack Bauered a plane full of tourists--I'm sorry, terrorists, you really should. This Fark thread is particularly outstanding.

See also: Flight 297 Passenger: Tedd Petruna Is 'Living In A Fantasy World'
wolfpangs: (bammer)
I miss my grandmother a lot and sometimes, it really gets to me, but times like today...I really wish she could've seen this game.

In the middle of a whatever-happened-to-that-one-guy chat inspired by Tanis's viewing of Can't Hardly Wait, I realized that Ethan Embry had been on an episode of Fear Itself, around the same time I saw that my That One Guy, Sean Patrick Thomas, has been on Lie to Me (which I somehow have not noticed, despite the fact that I watch it regularly).

Tanis: I watched my first episode of that the other day.
Salomé: It was filmed in Alberta
Tanis: No, really!?
Tanis: I had no idea it was filmed in AB.
Salomé: Okay, you watched it
Tanis: yes.
Salomé: (In my mind, you are watching in a hockey jersey while eating poutine)
Tanis: And I enjoyed Tim Roth's accent very much.
Salomé: Oh, are we talking about Lie to Me?
Tanis: Yes.
Salomé: Oh, okay
Salomé: Now I will revise my image of you watching it
Tanis: Fear Itself was the thing that was filmed in AB?
Salomé: There's an American flag behind you, rippling in the breeze
Okay, I was already unnerved by the most recent issue of Out because the last time I saw that kid, he was literally, a kid--the kid in About a Boy. (I haven't seen Skins, sorry. I'm only now getting caught up on It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia...it's gonna be a while before I can get to Skins.)

Shortly after my hip stopped creaking at that, I saw this picture from Nowhere Boy, the John Lennon biopic, and who is that second from left playing McCartney? Oh, just the little boy from Love, Actually. Whoa, okay.

So, since then I've been poking around looking at other photos from the movie, the trailer, and whatnot--as George is my favorite, I wanted to see the kid playing him, for one thing. Then a stray bit of gossip concerning the lead actor and the director caught my eye.



This is too much for me. I need a Bex and a lie down.


Dear Diary,

Yesterday I was walking to class when my earphones shorted out in one side. I was annoyed, mostly because I'd planned to pass the almost two hour gap before film class by watching a movie. Then, as I walked into the building for my first class, a few classmates of mine told me that class was canceled. The announcement had been posted to Blackboard about the same time I was getting on the interstate. It was starting to seem like a 40 degree day.

I checked the Barnes & Noble website (they're our school bookstore) to see if they had headphones. Not only did they carry my preferred brand, but they were at competitive prices. So, taking advantage of my extra time, I went across the street to the store. I was kind of peckish, so I did a quick survey of their snack items. To my surprise, the store stocks Muddy Bears, the odd little candy I've loved for years but have been unable to find outside of the internet. (Sometimes, the internet is just not as good as IRL.)

Later, in history of film class, we watched Citizen Kane because duh. I don't know why I was so down on this movie the first time I saw it. It really is the best. It's funny and beautiful and so sad. One thing I'm sort of curious about is the relationship Kane had with Mr. Leland. Maybe I'm looking at it through my modern eyes, but there seemed to be a hint of something besides friendship going on. I tried to consult the think tank at the IMDB messageboard, but I got distracted, somewhere in between the "omg so boring" and "Citizen Kane vs. Crank 2 High Voltage" threads. Anyway, upon second viewing, I really liked it.

So, despite my misgivings, it turned out to be more like a 60 degree day. And now I'm 3 weeks away from going back to NYC. And this local ad is making the internet rounds. Adjustment: 70 degree day.
*The other day at work, I spent about a good 30 seconds trying to decide if I could get away with saying, "There's [a slang term for male genitals] everywhere" (it was in relation to the conversation we were having, shut up). I finally decided that since I'd already talked about that one guy who tried to trick me into looking at his, the polite thing to do would be to refrain. So I still said it. I just substituted "wang" instead.

*My festival of Euro movies continues. It's starting to have an effect on me. The other day, I turned on the TV and was confused because they were speaking in English. It actually took me a second to shake the feeling! And then last night, I dreamed in German.

Oh, wait--I have seen an American movie. Sort of. I started watching the SCIFI* channel's redo of Children of the Corn but I've made it only halfway. The problem is mainly the portrayal of Burt and Vicky, the outlanders who stumble upon Gatlin's secret. Whereas I felt empathy for Gary Shepherd and Sarah Connor in the original movie version, these two? Ugh. I can't get scared because I spend all my time wishing they'd shut the hell up. It's like the part from the Twilight Rifftrax:

"That guy can't get drained of blood fast enough for me."
"You hope a vampire gets him?"
"That's one way."

I just don't understand why Stephen King feels he has to make these terrible TV movie versions of his stories when there are already perfectly cromulent to superior versions out there. Look, I'm happy for you, I'ma let you finish, but Kubrick's The Shining was the best Shining of all time! Of all time!

I also skimmed CotC 4 to make caps. I'm going to go back and probably make more, but here's two of Mark Salling, better known as Glee's Puck.

*I've been trying to do some shopping. I stumbled upon this necklace.

This is a transformative piece. It takes something that was once destructive & violent, now dead and spent, a symbol of fear, and gives it a new meaning by using it to house a crystal which is alive with positive, healing energy and is a source of light and beauty in the world.

Aw, that's nice.

And this one kills werewolves.



Now back to watching Being Human and working out scenes. And relaxing, because it's fall break.

*I will never spell it the new way.
Among the movies I watched was Les Femmes de l'ombre, which I thought was pretty good. However, I think whoever made the subtitle files was sippin' something.

Read more... )
Wednesday, I woke up feeling unwell and by Thursday morning, I could barely stay upright. I missed a day of class, but luckily, I had the whole weekend after that to recover. I was a bit worried that it'd be something more serious, but it seems to be nothing more than a cold or lycanthropy. This is the first time in a long time that I've been sick and been able actually to do all the things you're supposed to do, like rest and get plenty of fluids and feed it. It's awesome! It kind of sucks because I can't go out and do anything--don't need to spread my sickness--but I want to do all kinds of things because I'm so well-rested.

Instead, I'm having to confine myself to indoor sports, like movies and homework. Registration for spring semester will open next month, so I wanted to go ahead and plan out my schedule, especially since I didn't get to this semester and wound having to pick the bones. My tentative schedule for spring:

Religion and Crime
Early Republic, 1789-1828
American Film and Violent Society
Intro to Forensic Science

I am very excited about all of them. I haven't been able to find out much about Religion and Crime, beyond the books we're reading, but it sounded interesting. I wanted to take Early Republic since I first saw it in the catalog ("This course covers the history of the United States in its first four decades, a period designated the “early republic” by historians.")

And I was like, :D but then I went snooping on my professor (doesn't matter how great the class is if your professor is like, "Derp, what's a history?") and found that "[h]is current research focuses on early American nationalism and conceptions of national identity, with a particular emphasis on the thought of Thomas Jefferson."



AWESOME. Of course, I should start reading now because according to the last available syllabus, there are six required books, along with various other articles and whatnots. [Strap in, we're about to go super-nerd.] Of course, it kind of annoys me having to buy The Essential Federalist and Anti-Federalist Papers. I already own the Federalist Papers I use them as an aphrodisiac, but I guess I get to own them again.



In movie news, I watched Trick 'r Treat last night/today and I really liked it. It's very 80s style and hearkens back to the classic horror anthologies. I read that some people think it's overhyped and that it shouldn't be compared to the classics, but some of those classics are not-so-great in my opinion and you know, sacred cows make the tastiest hamburger.


I think I'm going to fit in fine.

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wolfpangs

October 2012

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