Further adventures and blog-related demands

Arg. Another day, another pastry. I'm legitimately getting fat. And yet, almost all the French people I've met are not only not fat, but skinnier than the average person. It's a mystery to me. (And I'm not the only one.) This Wikipedia article claims, however, that "Americans [tend] to lose weight while visiting [France]." Um, WRONG. I guess this is why you can't believe everything you read on Wikipedia.

At any rate, in the title of this post I promised adventures. And here they are:

On Saturday, I unfortunately slept in until noon (...thirty) because I'd been up until 3:30 in the morning doing absolutely nothing after having returned around 1:45 from a girls' night with Kelly and Amanda at Amanda's apartment, which consisted of us eating, scrambling to complete various time-sensitive tasks, and watching Pride and Prejudice. Anyway, after a slightly sketchy walk home (a guy drove slowly alongside me with his window open for about a block...I pretended not to see him whilst maintaining a death grip on the whistle Maria and Cynthia gave me as a going-away present for "scaring off the gypsies"), I made it back to the apartment and really just killed time while continually telling myself to get some sleep. I finally listened to me, but I was too late, thus the waste of a beautiful Saturday morning.

This story gets happier, though, I swear! I met up with Kelly, Amanda, and Laura, and we walked around the city in search of a bio-restaurant Kelly had heard about. We finally found it but discovered that they didn't do take-out for lunch, so we resolved to come back some other time and instead headed off for le Parc de la Tête d'Or, since it was a perfect day for relaxing outside:

Kelly, Laura, and Amanda (and me, haha) at the park.

We spent a couple hours at the park lying out in the sun (I have the faint beginnings of a tan!) and watching the antics of some nearby children before strolling back toward Place Bellecour, taking in all the sights of this gorgeous afternoon.

Bridge across the Rhône to the Presqu'île around 5 pm.

I had thought about going out Saturday night with my friends (not anything big...just a movie or something), but since mes parents were away for the weekend and mon frère was out for the evening, I decided to stay home and take advantage of the empty house to Skype with Jessalyn. (I feel bad Skyping when ma famille is here because, due to the time difference, Skyping always has to happen rather late at night, and everyone else here goes to bed fairly early. I don't want to disturb them.) Anyway, it was nice to spend a nice quiet evening at the apartment, although I still stayed up too late. Oh, well.

On Sunday, we (the group) had planned a picnic for lunch. The idea was to meet in Place Bellecour with everyone bringing something to contribute to the meal, and then walk either to the river or the park to eat. However, we ended up hanging around Place Bellecour for quite awhile waiting for everyone to arrive.

While we were waiting, we watched a group of students walk up to the statue in Place Bellecour, singing songs. We remarked on its being a little out of the ordinary and watched them with amusement for a little while. A few minutes later, we were talking about something else when a couple of guys from the group came over and explained that they were doing a scavenger hunt for the program they were traveling with and they needed a picture with some Lyon girls (I guess we qualified). Would we help them out? they wanted to know. "Sure," we said. The next thing I knew, one of the guys had taken my arm and steered me over toward the other guy, and was like, "Oh yeah, you guys have to kiss so we can get 100 points."

And I was like, "WHAT NOW?!" Because kissing strangers on the street is not one of my top five pastimes. It's like number seven. Eight, maybe.

I jest, of course. But still, I was pretty surprised. It was not how I had expected to spend my afternoon.

But still, they were pretty nice and the guy was pretty easy on the eyes and I mean, it would get them a whole 100 points. So I did it. I'm proud of myself. I think you'll agree it's an excellent story (unless I told it wrong).

After this brief detour from my usual character, we decided to accept the group's invitation for us to join them as they went sight-seeing and completed their tour around Lyon. (But first, Kelly sang "I Will Survive" with them in front of the statue.) It was pretty cool to meet other students (they were all, I guess, engineering students involved in a travel program on their spring break) from all over Europe. I spent a good chunk of time talking to a girl from Belgium, and there were people from Russia, Portugal, France, Germany, and other countries.

We walked around the city completing tasks (such as doing some kind of weird line-dance thing in the middle of a pedestrian street), and we visited the Cathédrale St-Jean in Vieux Lyon. (I still haven't gotten to see the 700-year-old clock do its thing. I did, however, get a couple of good pictures.)

Statue, undoubtedly of a saint or someone with better morals than I, in Cathédrale St-Jean.

After the Cathédrale I returned home to do some work, although this meant that I apparently missed the crowd-surfing that happened immediately thereafter. (Kelly told me about it and I saw pictures.) I went back home, cleaned my room, and then spent a lot of time putting off doing my reading by thinking of other "constructive" things to do. Finally I could avoid it no longer, and I spent the rest of the night reading. Haha, that's a lie. I did do some reading, but it was broken up by checking facebook, checking blitz (Dartmouth's email system), checking my email, eating another delicious dinner avec ma famille, watching two segments of a French TV show with Corinne, and chatting with four people at once. (Don't ever say I can't multitask.)

Monday was pretty ho-hum. Mondays are long in terms of class time (but not as long as Tuesdays...I'm exhausted). I did some errands after school and then went avec mes parents to the Welcome Dinner (which was actually aperitifs and hors d'oeuvres), which was fun. It was cool seeing all the parents and students together, and it was also interesting to see the profs outside of school, especially our two Lyonnais professors: Mme. Villard is adorable and M. Bonivard is kind of a goofball. They're awesome.

I do feel a little bad, though, because when we introduced our host parents a lot of people used adjectives to say how great their families were. Of course, no one told me beforehand that we'd have to introduce our parents, or I would have thought of something nice to say, too, because Corinne and Philippe are wonderful and super-nice, but my lack of confidence in speaking French combined with a touch of natural shyness meant that I was just like, "My name is Renée. I live with Corinne and Philippe. I'm from Massachusetts." The end. I hope they know that it's not for lack of sentiment that I wasn't gushier, but lack of vocabulary.

At any rate, I stayed up until almost 1 in the morning finishing the reading I'd put off (and cursing Past Me for having done so). This morning I woke up at 8, started class at 9:15, and apart from an hour-long lunch break at 11 (during which I schlepped all the way over to Place Bellecour to take care of spring break travel stuff at SNCF), didn't leave the university until 15:45. That's a loooooong day, let me tell you. Luckily, Tuesdays are the longest day of the week, so it's all easier from here on out. And then on Saturday morning I'm flying with Rachelle to ROME for SPRING BREAK!

Our original plans had been to take the train to Milan on Saturday, but fate had to mess with things: there was no cheap (or even remotely inexpensive) lodging available in Milan that night, and traveling on to another town was out of the question since our train would arrive in the evening anyway. We finally decided to fly to Rome instead. We booked the flight this weekend and exchanged our tickets today for tickets back from Milan (to Chambery, where we'll spend Saturday night before traveling back to Lyon on Sunday). Our travel plans are subject to change, but right now we're looking at this: Saturday, Sunday, and Monday in Rome (our flight leaves Lyon around 7 am and gets to Rome around 8, so we have pretty much an entire day there), Tuesday maybe at a beach (it's supposed to rain on Tuesday, OF COURSE. So these plans are, as I said, changeable.) Wednesday, heading up to Florence. Taking a side trip to Venice at some point, and probably seeing the Lakes District before getting to Milan on Saturday for the train back. It's a lot of stuff and we probably won't have time to do it all, but I guess I'd rather have lots of things to choose from than travel to a boring place. (Although, is there really such a thing in Europe?)

I am a little bummed that I won't be making it to Santorini while I'm in Europe, though. The prices of flights after this week skyrocket, so money-wise I just don't think it's doable. =( I'll see Santorini someday, though. I WILL.

In other travel news, Laura has proposed and researched a trip to Bordeaux at the end of May. It sounds like a lot of fun, and it will be easy on the wallet, too - the round-trip flight, accommodations, and wine tour only total about 160 € (just under $220 US). I mean, that's really not bad at all.

I still need to figure out what to do for the four-day weekend in May (yay, Ascension!). Anyone have ideas/suggestions/requests that I visit a specific place as you attempt to live vicariously through me?

Which brings me to the blog-related demand of the title. Comment! One of the main reasons I keep this blog is to keep in touch with everyone, and it's no use keeping in touch with you guys if I don't even know you're reading it. It's like writing letters and never sending them.

So, yeah. Start sending! =)

Time to eat the chocolate rabbit Mareike gave me for Easter. It's been staring at me all afternoon.

Man, I'm gonna get FAAATTTTTT...

In the Future, Everyone Will Critique Famous Things for Fifteen Minutes

August is depressing. It means that the summer is half over.

The summer is HALF OVER, and I've only been to the beach three times! (And of the three, I only actually went swimming twice, because the first time I went - with Maria and Ashley in June - it was raining and cold and we just walked along avoiding all the fishermen and then went out to lunch.)

So, to clear up the mid-summer slump, here are various opinions on various multimedia productions (TV shows, music videos, and movies).

Since Jess and I both had yesterday off, we got together to veg out since we haven't done the whole "we're-best-friends-so-let's-get-together-and-do-nothing" thing in awhile. Since one of us was broke and the other was stingy, we sat in my family room and watched TV/movies for five-and-a-half hours, whilst eating leftover stroganoff, DiGiorno pizza, and Betty Crocker brownies that we baked (using applesauce instead of vegetable oil because I didn't have enough oil left).

Anyway, we took in such cinematic gems as:

The Rescuers Down Under
Fun children's movie that we watched in order to fulfill our poking fun/reminiscing quota for the week. Joanna the strange lizard was creepy. Frank - the other smaller, less creepy, not-evil strange lizard - was rather annoying. I think kids would've liked him, though, which was the point I guess. The villain was one-dimensional and stupid, and are we really supposed to believe that his giant tree-crushing, cage-carrying vehicle (I hesitate to actually label it a "truck" because it was oh-so-much-more than that) somehow managed to escape the notice of the Australian authorities? Come on, now.

I liked the Australian non-mouse. (In lieu of actually figuring out what type of animal he was supposed to be, I just call him "the non-mouse.") And of course, I liked Bernard and Bianca simply because I liked them when I was a kid.

Jess and I decided it would be fun to count the Australian stereotypes in the movie. We got up to four and gave up because they were coming in so quickly that we couldn't possibly keep track of both the plots and the stereotypes. A few highlights, though:
1. Bad accents (or, in the case of the Australian boy, disappearing accents)
2. Non-essential shot of the Sydney Opera House
3. House in the middle of the Outback for no reason whatsoever
4. Stereotypical Australian hat for stereotypical Australian authority in the form of The Non-Mouse
5. There was lassoing involved
6. Cameo appearances by kangaroos, koalas, wombats (ahhh! so cute!) and other Australian animals that really served no purpose except to remind everyone that "hey, in case you guys forgot, we're in Australia!"
7. Excessive overuse of the word "mate" and phrases like "g'day!"
8. Even more excessive use of a didgeridoo. Like every three-and-a-half seconds.

Come on. I've done my googling; I know that Aussies have way cooler slang words than "mate" and "g'day." Although you probably can't use a lot of them in a G-rated Disney movie.

After the Rescuers had done all their rescuing to a rockin' didgeridoo soundtrack, we watched some music videos on MTVH. (I don't know what the H stands for. This channel comes somewhere in between MTV and MTV2.)

Selected commentary:

Veronicas' Song That I Forget The Name Of
Jess: They're twins. They look exactly the same...and they sound the same too. ... Wait, are they holding hands with that guy or with each other?
(In case you were windering...it was the latter.)

Katy Perry's "I Kissed a Girl"
Me (for the umpteenth time): This song is so stupid. I hate it. And everyone only sings those two lines -
Jess: "I kissed a girl and I liked i-it/The taste of her cherry chapstick..."
Tracey (having just come in): This is creepy. I don't like this.
Jess: But at the end she wakes up with her boyfriend, so it's okay.
...
Tracey: I don't like it. It's weird.

Video of Guys We Thought Might Be Metro Station But Turned Out Not to Be
Jess (making up her own lyrics): Oooh, we're greasy, ooh, we need shampoo-ooo...
Me: Is that Metro Station?
Jess: I dunno. They need to wash their hair.
Me (as video ends): Oh, that wasn't Metro Station.
Jess (as clip of Metro Station is shown): Doesn't matter; Metro Station needs a bath, too.

Miley Cyrus's "Seven Things" or whatever it's called
Jess: Eew, Miley Cyrus.
Me: Eeew.
Jess: This song is so spazzy.
Me: Huh.
...
Me: I don't want to, but I kind of like it. And I like her outfit. I want it. Especially those knee sock things.
Jess: She's not wearing knee socks.
Me: Whatever kind of socks they are. I like them.

The Pussycat Dolls' "When I Grow Up"
Jess: Look, it's their signature dance move: the Boob Thrust!
Me: The what?!
Jess: Well, what else would you call that?
Me: Yeah, you're right.

Alicia Keyes's "Superwoman"
Jess: Wait, I'm confused. Is she ALL of these people?
Me: Look, we know it's an Alicia Keyes video, because there's the piano.
Jess: Well, when your last name is "Keyes," if you're gonna play an instrument it sorta has to be a piano. ... At least this isn't as annoying as that song she sings, the one you hate because you say it sounds like she's straining her voice.
Me: No one, no one, no wuh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uhn...blech.
Jess: Ohmigod, they're REAL PEOPLE!
Me: That's so cool!
Jess: Wow.
Me: That was an inspiring music video. Good on you, Alicia Keyes.

Danity Kane's "Bad Girl"
Jess: They're just like the Pussycat Dolls. Look, they even do the Boob Thrust! Although, it's not quite as intense as the Pussycat Dolls'.
Me: That girl kinda looks like Christina Aguilara.
Jess: No, she doesn't.
Me: Yuh-huh!
Jess: Just 'cause she's blonde?
Me: She looks like her, okay?
Jess: Ooooo-kay...

Random Good Charlotte video
Jess: This had no plot. If videos don't have plot, I get really bored.

Girl Jess Thought Was Avril Lavigne But Wasn't
Jess: Is that Avril Lavigne?
Me: No.
Jess: I thought for a second this was "Sk8r Boi."
Me: It's not.
Jess: What is she wearing? I don't like it.
Me: I can't say as I'm a fan of her eye makeup. She's blonde and it's too dark.
Jess: I don't think she can pull off those aviator sunglasses.
Me: She just keeps striking out as far as eye fashion goes.
...
Me: She kinda looks like Christina Aguilara, too.
Jess: Do you say that about EVERYONE?!

Nelly's "Ride Wit Me"
Jess: Ride WIT Me. Not WITH me. Huh.
Jess and Me: ?
Me (on seeing one of Nelly's posse picking up a newly-married hitchhiker): Well, that bodes well for the marriage.
Jess: ?
Me: ?
Jess: What is this video even about?
Me: They're...partying...and blowing stuff up? Why?
Jess: You ever notice how girls in rap videos don't even have to be pretty, as long as they have this (gestures) going on?

Rhianna's "Disturbia"
Jess: Wow. This is kiund of creepy and...disturbing. I guess it goes with the song, then.

Kate Nash's "Foundation"
Me: OH MY GOD, I LOVE KATE NASH!!!
Jess and Tracey: ...
Jess (in reference to Kate's video boyfriend eating the decorations off her cake): That's so annoying.
Me: Just wait, she'll do what you've been wanting to do since you first saw that shot.
Jess: She slaps his hand?!
Me (as Kate slaps video BF's hand): There it is.
Jess (at the end): Wow, Kate Nash, tell it like it is.

Okay, moving on. Today I finally saw MAMMA MIA! It. Was. Awesome.

Everyone was raving about Meryl Streep's performance, and I was all, "She's doing a good job, but she's not above and beyond the rest of the cast or anything." UNTIL..."The Winner Takes It All." She was AMAZING. I got chills and teared up. Seriously.

Unfortunately for me - MAJOR SPOILER ALERT. If you haven't yet seen Mamma Mia!, don't read this paragraph. At all. So yeah, unfortunately for me, MICHELLE LIED TO ME. I asked her if Colin Firth is the gay guy, and SHE SAID NO. She lied. (Tracey: "In Michelle's defense, she doesn't even know who Colin Firth is.") Doesn't matter, though; I still loved him. The entire cast was fantastic, in fact. I haven't seen the show on stage, but I thought the movie was great - well-cast, fun, touching, and only a little cheesy (but every musical has its cheesy moments).

So, yeah, the only sad part was not being able to get up in the theatre and sing and dance along with the movie. When it comes out on DVD, I am totally having a viewing/sing-along party. Totally. I will even provide hairbrushes for my guests to use as imaginary microphones.

TV:
Tonight's episode of Psych was good. Not awesome. Too little Shawn/Jules stuff. And where was Shawn's dad? Besides the flashback at the beginning, he wasn't in the episode at all. I sorta missed the old killjoy. (Although, in his case, "killjoy" most likely translates to "voice of logic.")

A nice thing - I thought - about last week's episode was how they showed that they haven't abandoned the Shawn/Jules storyline, even though they didn't do much with it. However, "not much" is still better than the half-season of nothing we'd had since they'd almost kissed oh-so-long-ago. After that it was, what? One episode of awkwardness and then everything was back to normal, except there was no more silly Shawn/Jules banter/flirting. Sad.

However, getting back to tonight's episode, I must say that Shawn's speech at the end was good (even if it was just a teensy bit melodramatic). It's kind of cool how the show has been showing a more serious side of Shawn lately, what with his mom coming back and that whole thing with that girl he liked in high school. Veddy eeenterestink (bad accent).

That's about it. Things have been rather quiet at the MB, lately, so nothing much to report there. However, I am working four hours tomorrow before I leave on vacation Monday. Perhaps I'll go out with a bang.

Or maybe everything will go perfectly and I won't have anything to blog - or stress - about.

We shall see.

Adventures in Television-Watching

This is the life...just sitting on Maria's couch with Maria and Christian, eating Ben and Jerry's and watching 100 Greatest Songs of the 90s, making commentary on the really good songs and the really bad ones. And, of course, singing along.

The entire experience was punctuated by Christian's desperate search for brownie chunks in both varieties of ice cream (Half Baked and Chocolate Fudge Brownie). When Maria found a chunk and let him know, he promptly abandoned the Chocolate Fudge Brownie (which he'd more or less decimated in his search for brownie chunks) and pounced on the Half Baked. I stole the Chocolate Fudge Brownie and - of course - found a giant chunk of brownie, which prompted much whining from Christian: "Oooh! Give it to me! Please! No fair!"

Me, shoving brownie in mouth: Um, no.
Christian, in desperate attempt to get brownie: Kiss me!
Me: No!!! It's mine!
Christian: You bitch. It's like I'm the guy that went to California in 1847 and you're 1848.
Me: I need to facebook quote that right now.
Maria: You should BLOG ABOUT IT!!!

Why, thank you, Maria. I think I will.

Also, Christian permanently lowered himself in my eyes by insisting that Bono is an a-hole. (Um, no, he is not. He is brilliant, socially aware, and quite sexy. I would totally date Bono, even though he is quite a bit older than me and, you know, famous. Plus, he's married, so I don't think his wife (or kids) would be so crazy about me. Anyway. Moving on.

Christian's argument is that Bono does TOO MANY GOOD THINGS. Um, what?! How does supporting Greenpeace, Amnesty, and various anti-AIDS, -poverty, and -hunger campaigns make someone a jerk? I guess Mother Theresa's headed straight for hell, then.

Okay, update from Christian: "Let me change my argument, okay? I never said that. Here's why he's an asshole, all right? Because, um, he -eeeeeee- hold on, I'm watching this commercial. No, don't type that! Don't type that! No. He's an asshole because he does all this good stuff, but that's a cover for his love of himself. He is an egotistical do-gooder asshole. Yep. Yep yep yep."

I would like to ask you, Christian, as you read this over my shoulder (so to speak, since you're more reading this from the side and not behind) what do-gooder things YOU have ever done for humanity. I think being egotistical and doing nice things is better than not doing nice things at all.

We've moved on from the U2 discussion (in response to "One" being named one of the best songs of the 90s) to a discussion of the conspiracy surrounding Kurt Cobain's death: "How could Kurt Cobain shoot himself with a shotgun? Put THAT in your blog. He's not Mr. Fantastic. He was fantastic, but he wasn't Mr. Fantastic. Mr. Fantastic has stretchy arms."

Thanks for your unique perspective, Christian. Even though I tend to agree that Kurt Cobain did not kill himself.

Christian did acknowledge, however, that U2 is an awesome band. I couldn't agree more.

So now the show's over and we're channel surfing...we just came across this gem: "A widower and his daughters enter a surreal world to fulfill an enigmatic prophecy after they are attacked by evil trolls." Seriously, it's on ION. What?!

And now we're watching I Love Money. (Christian: Ugh, not for long.) Our commentary:
Maria: I feel like my brain cells are shriveling up and that my IQ has dropped a gazillion points.
Christian: Here's what the problem is with the show. Mr. Boston is a dirty dirty ho man. Man ho.
Maria: Man skank.
Christian: Yes, he is. He's a man ho skank. And that girl will eat pig balls.
Maria: A white boy wannabe gangsta. Like, 'Oh, I'm so Rico Suave.'
Christian: Yeah, so here's the deal with him. He makes us look like assholes. And he's captain! Oh, he's not my captain! Take that, Whitman! Suck on that, Walt!
Maria (imitating people on TV): 'I am...inarticulate. I don't know what I'm saying.' Okay, stop trying to sound smart.
TV: Okay, so you've taken some time to think about it -
Christian: No, they didn't. Don't give them that much credit.

Explain to me how making out with other contestants serves ANY purpose. At all. Why don't the contestants participate in some type of contest to better mankind, like solving world hunger or sewing Halloween costumes for non-creative, tight-budgeted children? I mean, really. Get some real jobs. The rest of us have to deal with customers to make minimum wage, and the MB is not a seaside mansion. Just saying.

I think it must be kinda hard to be Mr. Boston. I mean, no one really likes him. I feel bad for him. Mr. Boston, you have my sympathies.

Wait. "I have a lot of pride, but I'm willing to put all that pride aside for $250,000."

What? $250,000 is NOTHING. And besides that, if you had any pride (not even a "LOT OF PRIDE," as you claim), you wouldn't be on this show in the first place.

Oh ho, the tables have turned, Chance. You are not a team player. You have refused to participate twice, and you have therefore been disqualified twice.

He may not be a team player, but he apparently has more pride than anyone else on this show. Which is still not a lot, because, you know, he's there in the first place.

Well, we're going to watch Penelope now. Since I'm gonna actually want to pay attention, I think I'm gonna call it quits for this.

Sigh...

But first, a word from Christian:
so, christian he-ahhhhhh with an update. i don't realy have an update i just wanted to say that because it sounds cool. peace, romans, you don't exist anyway. homes.

Okay, Christian. Whatever.

But What Does It MEAN?!

Early (really early!) this morning, I was awoken from sleep by my subconscious, which had just tortured me with a dream so disturbing that I almost (almost!) called for my mommy. Seriously.

I lay there, paralyzed with fear, my legs cramping up (because I'd somehow been managing to sleep on my back, with my knees up and my feet flat on the bed). I couldn't even check the time, so terrified was I. Finally, I moved my legs very, veeeeeerrrry slowly until I was lying flat on the bed with my eyes screwed shut as tightly as possible, because I knew that the second I opened them, I'd see a flaming skull or something equally nightmarish hovering above my bed, waiting to consume my soul or whatever. (Because, don't deny it - when you wake up from a dream you're convinced that there is SOMETHING in your room, because your brain is going, "There's gotta be something here. Why else would I just wake up out of the blue? There's a presence here, I can just feel it. But I can't open my eyes or it will know that I know that it's here and it can't allow that information to get out and it will KILL ME!!! Maybe if I just lie really still it'll leave me alone...")

So I finally got the courage to open my eyes. Nothing. My room was my room. My bed was my bed. There was no flaming skull, no ghostly shadows, no Marilyn Manson hiding in the corner. I breathed a sigh of relief and kept repeating (in my head, not out loud...just in case) that it was only a dream and that I'd feel stupid thinking about it in the morning.

And I was right.

The dream that inspired five to ten minutes (again, not sure on the times because looking at the clock would have involved moving) of sheer terror?

I dreamed that the wall in my parents' room had a face in the wall, a la the face in Cordelia's wall in that episode of Angel when she rents the haunted apartment. And the face would say vaguely threatening things whilst the pipes overhead leaked water all over the attic in what can only be described as a highly sinister manner. So I looked for a route of escape (naturally), and when I turned around and saw the face again, I knew the jig was up. How did I know this? Was it the face's creepy voice? Had the face become an entire body which was now grabbing for my throat? Were the pipes leaking enough water to drown me almost instantaneously?

No. The face was wearing sunglasses.

That's what scared the bejeezus out of me at three (ballpark guess) in the morning. Not the fact that a wall, which is by its very nature inanimate and, oh yeah, FACELESS, was talking to me (threateningly). I was freaked out by the SUNGLASSES.

And sure, then I tried to escape and the evil forces in the room whipped up a wind that kept pushing me closer and closer to the Wall of Doom, which was not too fun either. But the sunglasses still freaked me out more.

Dear Lord, what is my ISSUE? I think I need a shrink.

Maybe my sunglasses fear stemmed from the fact that I went to the beach with Maria yesterday, which was loads of fun, even though I wiped out really bad and a giant wave sucked me under and deposited me awkwardly and painfully on the sand with my arm twisted behind me (ouuuuch, shoulder in pain!) and water in my mouth and up my nose. I finally got my head out of the water and stood up only to be knocked over again by the next wave. I am sure that it was a very entertaining scene for all the other beachgoers, but at that point I was too glad to be inhaling air and not saltwater and chunks of sand to care what anyone else might have thought of my none-too-graceful moment. But yeah, it was intense - the elastic came right out of my ponytail! Whatever, though. Our beach day was fun and relaxing aside from that one major incident, and I got the beginnings of a nice summer tan (hurrah!). However, along with the nice tan I got a major sunglasses tan line. It's not pretty. So maybe that's where my sunglasses fear is coming from. Oh, and the leaking water represents the whole "my face is in the water and I can't breath!" thing.

Apparently, my subconscious didn't have as much fun at the beach as the rest of me.

Grab Some Popcorn and Lower Your Expectations: It's Summer Movie Time

Summer
+ two days off in a row
+ sudden (free) appearance of many premium movie channels on my cable plan
+ my inherent laziness and abhorrence of exercise
= lotsa movie-watching fun

So, yeah, I did some sitting in front of the tube. And I've come to help you decide which movie to waste your time on this summer.

Please note that not all of these movie were watched during my aforementioned two days off. I'm not that big of a loser, thank you.

WALL-E
See. It. Now.

I did not particularly want to see WALL-E, but seeing as a bunch of my friends were going and I had a free movie pass, I figured 'why not?' So I saw. And I loved. And I discussed its merit with Jess in the ladies' room after the movie was over, because we each drank half a pitcher of orange soda during the movie. (That's was the reason for the setting of the discussion, not the discussion itself, FYI.)

Anyway, WALL-E was cute for kids, but semi-disturbing for adults who actually comprehend that - spoiler alert? - the movie is set in a post-apocalyptic world where "Buy'n'Large" (aka WALMART! cough) has taken over, humans are all morbidly obese, and organic matter is practically non-existent under all the trash and junk.

I bet you anything that somebody still threw trash out the window of his/her car on the way home from the theatre. Sort of like how my friend Erica went to Friendly's and ordered chicken fingers immediately after seeing Chicken Run.

The Pursuit of Happyness
Is there a 'the' at the beginning, or is it just "Pursuit of Happyness"? Oh, well, it probably doesn't matter if the movie's title is spelled wrong on purpose anyway.

Anyway, a certain person had ruined the entire plot of this movie two years before I saw it, so some (okay, all) of the cool time-saving tactics Chris Gardner (aka Will Smith) used were spoiled. Not that it really matters. But all the other plot points were kinda 'old news' after that, too, you know?

Anyhoo, I knew that this was gonna be an uplifting movie, but it took a looooong time to get there. Like 116 minutes (the movie was 118 minutes long, says my On Demand). But don't be discouraged, grasshopper. I may have spoiled the ending's mood, but at least you know it ends happily, and happy spoilers are always nicer than "Oh, by the by, everyone and their mom dies at the end and then the world explodes."

I Am Legend
Was forced to watched I Am Legend by Jess and Nicole. Can't really say anything about it without giving stuff away...yeah, it was one of thooose movies. I will leave you these tantalizing bits, though:
- Will Smith runs
- Will Smith shoots gun at stuff
- Will Smith has a dog
- Will Smith has flashbacks
- Will Smith talks to mannequins
- Will Smith performs experiments
- Will Smith blows stuff up
- Will Smith quotes Shrek (my personal favorite)
- Will Smith raps about how his life got flipped, turned upside down...wait, wrong show.

Herbie: Fully Loaded
I was channel-surfing in my room at about 12:45 am (which is 45 minutes past MIDNIGHT, people-who-don't-understand-the-difference-between-twelve-am-and-twelve-pm) when all of a sudden--
Me: Ohmigod, is that the Mac guy from the "I'm-a-Mac-I'm-a-PC" ads?!
Justin Long: *smiles at Lindsay Lohan*
Me: You're not especially good-looking, Justin Long, but you are oh so very attractive. How does that even work?!*

*Scientists don't understand why Justin Long's lack of Brad Pitt good looks makes him that much more attractive to some. They call it the Justin Long Paradox.

So, yes, I watched Herbie: Fully Loaded solely because I-can't-really-explain-it-but-I-sort-of-have-a-thing-for Justin Long. But let me tell all you other people out there who are Justin Long fans: the film was not worth it. Even though I may have teared up at the end. But it was two in the morning and I had just realized that I would never get the last hour-and-fifteen-minutes of my life back.

Amelie
C'est fantastique!!! Even though it's entirely in French, there are subtitles for all of us non-French-speaking people. Although the subtitles don't make the plot(s) any less bizarre. The movie is hilarious and touching, though. Added bonus: Leave it on (without the subtitles) when company is coming over, then shut it off and be all, "Oh, sorry, just enjoying my artsy foreign film." And then pray that your guests a.) don't speak French, and b.) haven't seen the movie.

Chocolat
Since I first saw this movie at the age of eleven? twelve? it had been fixed in my mind as a rather long and boring movie, not a "bittersweet treat" as claimed in the summary provided by my cable company. However, on a second viewing, I could fully appreciate the movie...and Johnny Depp. Oh, but that Johnny Depp would sail down the river into my town and try to sell me overpriced knickknacks whilst strumming a guitar! Of course, if that ever happened, I'd have to stop being friends with Maria because of her deep-rooted Johnny Depp phobia. Sorry, Maria.

The Importance of Being Earnest
Okay. I only watched it because Colin Firth was in it. But I genuinely liked it! In a surprising turn (note sarcasm), Judi Dench plays a crotchety upper class snob. But, yeah. Funny movie. Even my sister, who hates British films and British actors and British humor and, well, anything British (in colonial times, I swear she would have been the first one dumping tea into the harbor) liked The Importance of Being Earnest. Which I guess just goes to show you the importance of being The Importance of Being Earnest. (Think about it for a second...there you go.)

Wow, better get some sleep soonish.

Pirates of the Caribbean 3: At World's End
Ha ha, At Wit's End, more like. Someone should inform Jerry Bruckheimer that the "3" in the title does not have to refer to the movie's length in hours.

Okay, I know it's way late, but here's the skinny (SPOILERS...?):

The East India Trading Company is doing...something evil. Do they ever explain what? Why were they out to get Jack Sparrow? How and when did they get control of the Flying Dutchman? Did this happen in the second movie (which I've seen three times and own on DVD)? If so, um, WHEN?!

Jack and Elizabeth have broken up...no they haven't...yes, they have...no, wait, I guess they hadn't because NOW they're breaking up for real - wait, false alarm...wait, why are you kissing THAT person?! That's not your significant other!

Johnny Depp is...wait, the Johnny Depps are...oh, bullocks.

That crazy chick is a goddess; no, it's Keira Knightley, but wait! One of the top-credited actors dies in the first third of the film?! WTF?!

Sorry, Keira Knightley, you aren't actually a goddess in human form (not in this movie, anyway). How about, as a consolation prize, we make you King of the Pirates? Sound good?

I have no idea what's going on at this point...I'm not even watching the movie, I'm just staring at the screen because I cannot comprehend anything that is happening. Whose side is anyone on? I swear to God, they switch sides more than...something that switches sides a lot.

And now there's a giant whirlpool. Great. Maybe it's the Bottomless Plot Hole sucking the entire film into the abyss.

Naturally, the whirlpool does not demolish our heroes, because then we'd have to spend the last twenty minutes watching the East India Trading Company do...what were they trying to accomplish again? This is, perhaps, the true reason why the pirates win. Because if they'd lost, the EIC would've carried out its evil plot, and not even the writers knew what that might be, so how could they possibly write a script on it?

Are you confused? Lemme tell you that this summary, despite its stream-of-consciousness style and questionable use of grammar, was still less complex than the movie's plot. It also makes far more sense.

To sum up: three hours is too long for a movie to hold its audience's attention (and for that audience to hold its collective bladder), but not long enough to adequately explain all of said movie's plot points.

And yet, I didn't totally hate it. Go figure.

Edward Scissorhands
I put off seeing it for a really long time because I knew it had a sad ending. (I gleaned this information from a conversation with my cousin, in which she said that Edward Scissorhands had a sad ending. Just call me Nancy Drew.)

Anyway, my sister assured me that the ending was "happy-sad-ish," so I gave it a try.

In all honesty, she was pretty much right...but was also completely wrong. If you've seen it, you know what I mean. Awesome movie, though, featuring that lady who played Mia in season seven (NOT season two) of Gilmore Girls as the neighborhood busybody/entrepreneur/horndog/Abigail Williams (it's a Crucible reference, duh).

Despite the "happy-sad-ish" ending, it's totally worth seeing.

And so concludes my Guide to Summer Movie Viewing.