9:45 am: Wake up.
9:50 am: Realize that "the little tickle in my throat, probably from the room being too dry" is actually my second cold of the term.
10:45 am: Have roommate change my facebook password to help me avoid the temptation to procrastinate.
11 am: Errands
Noon: Research
1:45 pm: Take break from studying to watch roommate have a hilarious finals-induced breakdown centered around the word "punchy."
1:47 pm: Get camera to record the remainder of said mental breakdown.
2 pm: Work
2:45 pm: Realize that I missed yesterday's deadline for an important piece of financial aid paperwork. Call home to incoherently blubber apologies and beg for forgiveness.
3:25 pm: Go into hallway with roommate to send Slinky down the stairs.
3:26 pm: Stairs are too wide. Go in search of more suitable stairs.
3:28 pm: All stairs in building are too wide. Damn this grandiose dorm architecture.
3:30 pm: Build makeshift stairs out of books and boxes of cake mix for sole purpose of watching the Slinky walk down them
3:35 pm: Disassemble Slinky stairs, go back to doing more work
5:38 pm: Order Indian food
5:40 pm: Shower
6:38 pm: Food was supposed to be here 15 minutes ago.
6:39 pm: Food is here!
6:40 pm: Have awkward conversation in hallway with food delivery guy vis-à-vis how much I will be tipping him today (too much, considering the fact that he was late)
6:42 pm: Inhale naan and aloo mattar sitting sprawled out on the floor, since all table space is taken up with books, research materials, and empty cans of iced tea (not mine).
7:00 pm: "Time to get back to work!"
7:05 pm: Play "Eye of the Tiger" to psych self up
7:07 pm: Epic "Don't Stop Believin'"air-guitar/sing-along session with roommates
7:09 pm: Roommate's friend enters, is enticed to join in
7:10 pm: Okay, seriously, back to work.
8:30 pm: Sinking feeling that none of research is relevant to paper topic
9 pm: Nope. Not at all.
9:15 pm: Study break to cheer up!
9:45 pm: YOUTUBE!!!
9:55 pm: Back to work. For real.
10:19 pm: BLOG!!!
10:39 pm: Craaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaap, another 20 minutes wasted.
Did I mention this thing's due Monday?
I hate finals.
Showing posts with label Michi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Michi. Show all posts
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Obsession of the Moment #1: The Library
After another long day of doing nothing productive, I have come to the following conclusion: The library is God's most magical gift to the world.
Well, you know, God or whatever deity you choose. The point is, the place is the bomb-diggity.
Last week Michelle and I started a weekly tradition wherein we go into town on Friday afternoons and spend time at the library before stopping at Dunkin' Donuts on the way back. We call it "Books and Beignets," although beignets may be too classy a term for goods that are obtained from a Dunkins located in a gas station convenience store.
Regardless, these outings (all two of them, thus far) are magical little forays away from the real world and into a world inhabited by people who are somehow way more interesting than you and I. Since I'm currently on a mystery-reading kick, my version of an interesting person is one who not only finds dead bodies strewn about in his/her immediate vicinity on a disturbingly regular basis, but who also manages to figure out without fail who did it and why. Every time.
The nice thing about reading is knowing that everything will come to a resolution at some point. I'm partial to happy endings myself, but even bummer endings are endings. No loose ends here, no siree. (If there were loose ends, chances are this thing wouldn't have gotten published.) If only life offered the same guarantee. (I mean, apart from the ULTIMATE ending, in which we all go to the big library in the sky.) But let's not get all philosophical here. Let's get back to the library, and why it is perhaps--nay, certainly--the best public institution there is.
First of all, it's FREE. What?! Free?! And legal?! Too much, too much. I mean, you could conceivably photocopy every book you ever borrow (although the legality of that is sort of questionable) and never pay for books again! (I feel like you'd run up a pretty hefty tab at Kinko's, though.) I love buying books, and I love filling my shelves with them, but I'm also a poor college student whose bank account averages about $40 from month to month. I can't go around buying books all willy-nilly. Plus, the last time I went on a book-buying expedition, two of the three were stinkers (and the third was a French-English dictionary, so it didn't really redeem the other two).
But with the library, there's no risk! No commitment! If it sucks, return it! If it doesn't suck, pretend you lost it and steal it for your personal collection! (Kidding. KIDDING.) I've discovered some of my favorite books and book series just by picking up random ones at the library, whereas when I go to the bookstore I usually have a very organized list of exactly what I'm looking for. (I'm not saying I don't get distracted, though.)
Second of all, the library is a freaking mystical repository for books that arguably "don't exist" anymore. What? Out of print for six years? Oh, hey, here it is on the shelf, just waiting for you. You're welcome.
Third: it's quiet. In bookstores, there's no guarantee, especially if there's a Starbucks or Seattle's Best Coffee smooshed in there somewhere. In the library, you might get shushed by the stereotypical cranky librarian, but dude, you probably deserved it. And that librarian is there to shush other people so you don't have to be "that bitch who told me to be quiet. Who does she think she is, anyway?" So you see, that librarian is actually taking the fall so you don't have to. Win.
Fourth, you can increase the size of your iTunes to the nth degree just by taking CDs out of the library. Again, this point is of somewhat dubious legality, but really, what can anyone do about it? And it's not like you're going to go out and actually buy "Christmas with the Brady Bunch," but damn if you don't want that crazy clan to serenade you during the holidays. Don't even deny it.
Fifth, you get to watch movies. For free. Without Chinese/Russian/Japanese subtitles and without Megavideo cutting you off. Score.
Sixth, and this is perhaps THE most magical thing: you get to put things on hold. No, really, think about it. It is the grown-up, tax-dollar-funded method of calling dibs. No need to sit around for weeks waiting for the object of your desire to become available; just slap a hold on that sucker and you get priority over all the other schmucks that want it. If only dating worked like this, life would be sooo much simpler.
In fact, my only complaint about the library is that they don't let me live there.
Pity.
Well, you know, God or whatever deity you choose. The point is, the place is the bomb-diggity.
Last week Michelle and I started a weekly tradition wherein we go into town on Friday afternoons and spend time at the library before stopping at Dunkin' Donuts on the way back. We call it "Books and Beignets," although beignets may be too classy a term for goods that are obtained from a Dunkins located in a gas station convenience store.
Regardless, these outings (all two of them, thus far) are magical little forays away from the real world and into a world inhabited by people who are somehow way more interesting than you and I. Since I'm currently on a mystery-reading kick, my version of an interesting person is one who not only finds dead bodies strewn about in his/her immediate vicinity on a disturbingly regular basis, but who also manages to figure out without fail who did it and why. Every time.
The nice thing about reading is knowing that everything will come to a resolution at some point. I'm partial to happy endings myself, but even bummer endings are endings. No loose ends here, no siree. (If there were loose ends, chances are this thing wouldn't have gotten published.) If only life offered the same guarantee. (I mean, apart from the ULTIMATE ending, in which we all go to the big library in the sky.) But let's not get all philosophical here. Let's get back to the library, and why it is perhaps--nay, certainly--the best public institution there is.
First of all, it's FREE. What?! Free?! And legal?! Too much, too much. I mean, you could conceivably photocopy every book you ever borrow (although the legality of that is sort of questionable) and never pay for books again! (I feel like you'd run up a pretty hefty tab at Kinko's, though.) I love buying books, and I love filling my shelves with them, but I'm also a poor college student whose bank account averages about $40 from month to month. I can't go around buying books all willy-nilly. Plus, the last time I went on a book-buying expedition, two of the three were stinkers (and the third was a French-English dictionary, so it didn't really redeem the other two).
But with the library, there's no risk! No commitment! If it sucks, return it! If it doesn't suck, pretend you lost it and steal it for your personal collection! (Kidding. KIDDING.) I've discovered some of my favorite books and book series just by picking up random ones at the library, whereas when I go to the bookstore I usually have a very organized list of exactly what I'm looking for. (I'm not saying I don't get distracted, though.)
Second of all, the library is a freaking mystical repository for books that arguably "don't exist" anymore. What? Out of print for six years? Oh, hey, here it is on the shelf, just waiting for you. You're welcome.
Third: it's quiet. In bookstores, there's no guarantee, especially if there's a Starbucks or Seattle's Best Coffee smooshed in there somewhere. In the library, you might get shushed by the stereotypical cranky librarian, but dude, you probably deserved it. And that librarian is there to shush other people so you don't have to be "that bitch who told me to be quiet. Who does she think she is, anyway?" So you see, that librarian is actually taking the fall so you don't have to. Win.
Fourth, you can increase the size of your iTunes to the nth degree just by taking CDs out of the library. Again, this point is of somewhat dubious legality, but really, what can anyone do about it? And it's not like you're going to go out and actually buy "Christmas with the Brady Bunch," but damn if you don't want that crazy clan to serenade you during the holidays. Don't even deny it.
Fifth, you get to watch movies. For free. Without Chinese/Russian/Japanese subtitles and without Megavideo cutting you off. Score.
Sixth, and this is perhaps THE most magical thing: you get to put things on hold. No, really, think about it. It is the grown-up, tax-dollar-funded method of calling dibs. No need to sit around for weeks waiting for the object of your desire to become available; just slap a hold on that sucker and you get priority over all the other schmucks that want it. If only dating worked like this, life would be sooo much simpler.
In fact, my only complaint about the library is that they don't let me live there.
Pity.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Exhuming Creativity
Yes, that was a play on words - the creative juices are flowing (you might say I'm exuding creativity) and I am posting a new entry, thereby resurrecting this blog (exhuming it).
Okay, that was weak. It's 12:29. I'm smack dab in the middle of a bunch of work, and I'm sleep-deprived (and, by staying up this late when I have to wake up for work at 6:30 am, I am not doing anything that is conducive to solving this problem). Give me a break.
Anyway, I hadn't written any haikus in a while and inspiration struck me, so, without further ado, I bring you...
BRIEF SKETCHES OF LIFE EVENTS THAT HAVE OCCURRED SINCE I LAST BLOGGED
I. Ode to Facebook Friend Requests
Just because you know
Forty-seven of my friends
Does not make us buds.
II. Ode to Friends Who Plan Me a Surprise Birthday Party
Michelle and David
Are clearly super awesome
I so love you guys.
III. Ode to Getting Stuck Behind George H.W. Bush's Limo on a Narrow Maine Road
Just driving along...
Uh-oh, security car!
Better turn around.
IV. Ode to the Warm Weather
I love that you're here
Please never leave me again
Flip-flops make my life.
V. Ode to My New Job
Walking to my job
Takes me longer than doing
The actual work.*
*But I like it.
Oooh, I'd better get back to doing some real work; it's getting late. Plus, my fingers are cramping from all the 5-7-5 syllable counting I'm doing. Peace out.
Okay, that was weak. It's 12:29. I'm smack dab in the middle of a bunch of work, and I'm sleep-deprived (and, by staying up this late when I have to wake up for work at 6:30 am, I am not doing anything that is conducive to solving this problem). Give me a break.
Anyway, I hadn't written any haikus in a while and inspiration struck me, so, without further ado, I bring you...
BRIEF SKETCHES OF LIFE EVENTS THAT HAVE OCCURRED SINCE I LAST BLOGGED
I. Ode to Facebook Friend Requests
Just because you know
Forty-seven of my friends
Does not make us buds.
II. Ode to Friends Who Plan Me a Surprise Birthday Party
Michelle and David
Are clearly super awesome
I so love you guys.
III. Ode to Getting Stuck Behind George H.W. Bush's Limo on a Narrow Maine Road
Just driving along...
Uh-oh, security car!
Better turn around.
IV. Ode to the Warm Weather
I love that you're here
Please never leave me again
Flip-flops make my life.
V. Ode to My New Job
Walking to my job
Takes me longer than doing
The actual work.*
*But I like it.
Oooh, I'd better get back to doing some real work; it's getting late. Plus, my fingers are cramping from all the 5-7-5 syllable counting I'm doing. Peace out.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Oomis Gloomis
I am one of those strange people that occasionally relishes being sick.
I am a very busy person but deep down inside I am very lazy, and being sick offers one the rare opportunity of being totally sedentary. Not only do other people accept this, they encourage it. So you can understand my point of view.
I have some fond memories of being sick. In ninth grade when I got colds, I'd snuggle under the covers and watch Law and Order: SVU on DVD while eating tomato soup (with cheese, sour cream, and bacon bits - which, if you buy the right kind, are actually 100% vegetarian) and drinking orange juice. When I went to Florida in May and my stomach decided to stage a full-on rebellion and I almost had to get an IV, I still got to watch Shanghai Nights in a hotel bed, all nice and comfortable (except for the yacking-into-a-wastebasket portions of the day). And in between yackings, I felt tired but otherwise okay.
You might be wondering why I am boring and disgusting you with a history of my prior illnesses. I'll tell you why: because I'm sick right now and it is NOT FUN. At all.
After three days of hacking cough and intense throat pain and two nights of night sweats and weird, half-awake dreams, I schlepped over to the campus health center, expecting (almost hoping) to be diagnosed with some kind of ominous-sounding ailment. (I say "hoping" because having some kind of sinister disease at least makes your misery justified in a sense, whereas having a boring old cold is just a cruel, anti-climactic cop-out.) Thirty minutes, 20 questions, and a throat swab later, I was told that - basically - I have a cold.
I reject this diagnosis.
To the health center's credit, the nurse was really nice, and she didn't at all imply that I was a wimp for making such a fuss over a cold; in fact I think she genuinely realized how miserable I was (and am). But still, it was disappointing. In the throes of a night-sweat-induced semi-hallucination, I had diagnosed myself with bronchitis coupled with a sinus infection. And to be told that I didn't even have a lousy case of strep was just plain disheartening.
What I do have, however, is another sleepless night of chills and sweats to look forward to, followed by another day in which I will not leave my bed. This is actually getting boring.
I KNOW I have work to do. It's just a question of mustering up the motivation to make myself DO it. I have to select all my classes for next term by 4 pm tomorrow...I haven't even looked at the course catalog. I have only the vaguest of ideas of what I'd like to take. I could have taken care of all that today and crossed it off the ever-growing list of Things I Have To Do, but noooo. Similarly, I have not started the English paper I have due on Monday, have not sent my history prof a more detailed version of my term paper outline, have not sent my religion notes to the classmate who asked me for them two days ago, have not been keeping up with my "readings journal" for history, and have not finished reading Huck Finn for English. On the bright side, however, I DID finish (finally!!!) Anne of Windy Poplars, my least favorite of the Anne of Green Gables books, so I can move on to Anne's House of Dreams, which is one of what I believe to be the better ones. (My favorites, though, are the original Anne of Green Gables and Anne of the Island. Anne of Avonlea didn't seem to me to have much of a plot to it. I know all the Anne books are pretty much just vignettes, but that's my opinion and I'm sticking to it.)
And now I am off to read some Anne's House of Dreams. Before I do, though, I want to thank my friends - on the off-chance that they are reading this - for all their help over the past couple days, bringing me food (thanks, David!), running errands for me (thanks, Mich!), surprising me with OJ and cough drops (thanks, Michelle!), and just checking up on me and offering to help me out with anything I need. You guys are the greatest!
I am a very busy person but deep down inside I am very lazy, and being sick offers one the rare opportunity of being totally sedentary. Not only do other people accept this, they encourage it. So you can understand my point of view.
I have some fond memories of being sick. In ninth grade when I got colds, I'd snuggle under the covers and watch Law and Order: SVU on DVD while eating tomato soup (with cheese, sour cream, and bacon bits - which, if you buy the right kind, are actually 100% vegetarian) and drinking orange juice. When I went to Florida in May and my stomach decided to stage a full-on rebellion and I almost had to get an IV, I still got to watch Shanghai Nights in a hotel bed, all nice and comfortable (except for the yacking-into-a-wastebasket portions of the day). And in between yackings, I felt tired but otherwise okay.
You might be wondering why I am boring and disgusting you with a history of my prior illnesses. I'll tell you why: because I'm sick right now and it is NOT FUN. At all.
After three days of hacking cough and intense throat pain and two nights of night sweats and weird, half-awake dreams, I schlepped over to the campus health center, expecting (almost hoping) to be diagnosed with some kind of ominous-sounding ailment. (I say "hoping" because having some kind of sinister disease at least makes your misery justified in a sense, whereas having a boring old cold is just a cruel, anti-climactic cop-out.) Thirty minutes, 20 questions, and a throat swab later, I was told that - basically - I have a cold.
I reject this diagnosis.
To the health center's credit, the nurse was really nice, and she didn't at all imply that I was a wimp for making such a fuss over a cold; in fact I think she genuinely realized how miserable I was (and am). But still, it was disappointing. In the throes of a night-sweat-induced semi-hallucination, I had diagnosed myself with bronchitis coupled with a sinus infection. And to be told that I didn't even have a lousy case of strep was just plain disheartening.
What I do have, however, is another sleepless night of chills and sweats to look forward to, followed by another day in which I will not leave my bed. This is actually getting boring.
I KNOW I have work to do. It's just a question of mustering up the motivation to make myself DO it. I have to select all my classes for next term by 4 pm tomorrow...I haven't even looked at the course catalog. I have only the vaguest of ideas of what I'd like to take. I could have taken care of all that today and crossed it off the ever-growing list of Things I Have To Do, but noooo. Similarly, I have not started the English paper I have due on Monday, have not sent my history prof a more detailed version of my term paper outline, have not sent my religion notes to the classmate who asked me for them two days ago, have not been keeping up with my "readings journal" for history, and have not finished reading Huck Finn for English. On the bright side, however, I DID finish (finally!!!) Anne of Windy Poplars, my least favorite of the Anne of Green Gables books, so I can move on to Anne's House of Dreams, which is one of what I believe to be the better ones. (My favorites, though, are the original Anne of Green Gables and Anne of the Island. Anne of Avonlea didn't seem to me to have much of a plot to it. I know all the Anne books are pretty much just vignettes, but that's my opinion and I'm sticking to it.)
And now I am off to read some Anne's House of Dreams. Before I do, though, I want to thank my friends - on the off-chance that they are reading this - for all their help over the past couple days, bringing me food (thanks, David!), running errands for me (thanks, Mich!), surprising me with OJ and cough drops (thanks, Michelle!), and just checking up on me and offering to help me out with anything I need. You guys are the greatest!
Friday, January 23, 2009
Them Talkies Sure Are Swell!
More movies you should or should not see in your spare time.
The Bucket List
See it if you must. I mean, it was somewhat better than I expected, but I'm not about to rush out and buy it on DVD. Basically Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson are both dying (in the movie, not in real life!!! Calm down, for Pete's sake!!!) and they make a list of stuff to accomplish before they die. Or, rather, Morgan Freeman makes a list which Jack Nicholson then steals and edits to suit his own purposes. Madcap adventures ensue. We can learn several lessons from this movie:
- Don't be an ass about the way you manage your hospitals, because karma dictates that you yourself will soon be hospitalized in one of those dumps.
- Always check the weather before attempting to hike in the Himalayas.
- Men: when a woman much younger than you (and when I say "much younger" I mean "could be your granddaughter") hits on you in some random Asian bar, assume that your friend sent her.
- Ladies: if your husband has heart problems and you suddenly cannot find him, do not assume that he is "hiding." He is actually lying on the ground behind the bed convulsing just out of your frame of vision.
- When you have a terminal illness, abandoning your family to travel the world with some rando will kind of piss them off.
- Ditto for hiring guys to make your daughter's husband "disappear."
Dune
Long, confusing, and really, really weird. Jess and I only managed to make it through the movie because Jess's mom happened to be watching with us and explaining all the plot points (if, in fact, there actually were any). The basic idea, I guess, was that that in the deserts of Arrackis there is some kind of valuable spice and that interplanetary economy and politics were controlled by the mining thereof. I think that's what it was, anyway. And then there was...Paul. And he had dreams that were actually visions. And the bad guys (led by Sting and Creepy Fat Guy) killed his father...or, no, wait. Somebody (the Traitor...with a capital T) implanted a fake tooth in Paul's dad's head so he could kill the bad guy leader (aka Creepy Fat Guy) by biting down on it and blowing the poison inside said fake tooth (because who wants a fake tooth if it's not full of poisonous gases?) into the bad guy's face, thus killing him. However, Paul's dad, being apparently not the brightest bulb in the bunch, blows the poison into the face of the bad guy's minion, not the leader, thus pissing the bad guy off even more but not accomplishing much else other than that. (Seriously, Paul's Dad, what kind of leader are you that you can't even tell the difference between your arch enemy and his minion?! Really?!)
Anyway, Paul has been creepily dreaming about some girl, and he finally meets her and is all, "I've dreeeeeeamed about you (creepily)!" And the girl's all, "Really? Sweet. Let's make out." Meanwhile, her tribe or whatever makes Paul's pregnant mom their leader, she gives birth, and they ask Paul and his mother to teach them "the Weirding Way," not necessarily in that order. (Apparently, Paul and his mom are of Weirding descent, which is I guess some sort of race or ethnicity or something, and they have special powers. Can I just say though - the Weirding Way? Really?!) Anyway, Paul's sister is creepy and her facial features glow blue, which is - sadly enough - probably the least creepy thing about her. Seriously, I'm going to have a nightmare about her one of these days.
But yeah. Oh, I forgot to mention that Paul has managed to defeat/control the giant sandworms (think those giant sandworms in Beetlejuice) that live in the desert and prevent the easy acquisition of that pesky spice. (I italicize "spice" because that's how everyone always said it in the movie, with a really obvious emphasis, in case the audience hadn't yet realized that the spice was important to the movie.) I also forgot that every time any character had a thought, it was represented by a close-up of their face and an intense whispering voiceover.
But after speaking to other people in their heads for awhile (because that's the Weirding Way, natch), Paul, his mom, and his creepy sister manage to defeat the bad guys and make it rain on the planet Arrackis, which was apparently the goal all along (or not...? It's hard to tell. Plus I was pretty tired by that point.).
This movie literally changed my life. For example, using Arrackis as a metaphor for a middle eastern country like, oh, Iraq, I surmised that someday our crazy competition over the resources (the oil) there will lead to interplanetary--or at least international--warfare (oh, wait...). I also learned that whispering your thoughts in a very intense, urgent manner is always amusing. Jessalyn and I spent a good while practicing our own version of the Weirding Way:
Jess: Wow, I'm tired.
Me: I wonder what I'll have for lunch tomorrow.
Jess: I don't understand this movie.
Me: What exactly is "the Weirding Way?"
And so on. And then we imdb'd it and were amazed at its moderately good rating. Crazy stuff, man. Crazy stuff.
Roman Holiday
Ever since I saw To Kill A Mockingbird, I've loved Gregory Peck. My one question about Roman Holiday is this: WHY DID I WAIT SO LONG TO SEE IT?!
Gregory Peck = LOVE. I only wish I'd been born like 70 years earlier.
Splendor in the Grass
As much as I love Gregory Peck in Roman Holiday (or, okay, anything), that's how much I hated Bud's dad. My hatred for him is rivaled only by my hatred for Deanie's manipulative psycho-bitch of a mother. I hated her even more than Bud's dad, who earned points with me when he threw himself off a building. I spent most of the movie yelling "SHUT UP!!!" at the screen whenever either he or Mrs. Loomis was present.
Other than that, Splendor in the Grass was all right. It's one of Mich's favorite movies, and I will admit that Warren Beatty was quite the looker back in the day, and that Natalie Wood really has the whole "crazy eyes" thing down pat. It was okay, I thought. Not my new favorite (sorry, Mich), but okay.
Rachel Getting Married
It was good. It would have been better if it had been about 20 minutes shorter--there was way too much uninteresting footage of extras dancing around, etc., but the movie really made you feel excited, like you were one of the wedding guests, and Anne Hathaway's performance was incredible. It was such a different role for her, and I hope to see her in other interesting roles (ie, not the cookie-cutter good-girl princessy roles she's been wont to play in the past...the Princess Diaries, Ella Enchanted, etc. I am excluding Brokeback Mountain, of course, but she was only a background player there.)
Anyway, the movie's billed, I believe, as a "dark comedy," but it's definitely a drama. I didn't really laugh, but I definitely cried. And not just because I had a giant blister on my foot from using the walk to the movie theatre to break in my new boots.
Girl With A Pearl Earring
Yes, I finally saw it!!! Colin Firth was as sexy as sin, but other than that it was nothing special. I didn't really pay attention, to tell you the truth. The cinematography wasn't bad, but all in all the movie wasn't anything to write home about.
Little Miss Sunshine
I know, everyone and their mom has already seen this, but I finally got around to watching it over winter break--and it was nothing like I'd expected. It was funny, heartbreaking, touching, etc., etc., etc. If you haven't seen it yet, do it. Do it now.
The Librarian: Curse of the Judas Chalice
Ridiculous. It involved Noah Wyle going around like an Indiana Jones knockoff, being all, "Hello, ladies, I'm a librarian."
Ladies: SWOON!!!
No, seriously. And he was trying to stop some sort of evil plot involving (you guessed it) the Judas chalice, the chalice Christ supposedly drank from at the last supper. And he's helped by some French chick who turns out to be - gasp! - a vampire! Just like the bad guy! Just like his minions! And just like Judas (allegedly). And then they got betrayed by someone - I don't remember who - and then at the end Noah Wyle's vampire lover kills herself by sitting with him on a bench at sunrise (which incinerates her, for those who aren't up on their vampire lore).
And there was a guy who kept calling Noah Wyle "Mistah Pro-fessah Man," which was demeaning on so many levels. Come on, now, people.
And I think that's about it...for now.
The Bucket List
See it if you must. I mean, it was somewhat better than I expected, but I'm not about to rush out and buy it on DVD. Basically Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson are both dying (in the movie, not in real life!!! Calm down, for Pete's sake!!!) and they make a list of stuff to accomplish before they die. Or, rather, Morgan Freeman makes a list which Jack Nicholson then steals and edits to suit his own purposes. Madcap adventures ensue. We can learn several lessons from this movie:
- Don't be an ass about the way you manage your hospitals, because karma dictates that you yourself will soon be hospitalized in one of those dumps.
- Always check the weather before attempting to hike in the Himalayas.
- Men: when a woman much younger than you (and when I say "much younger" I mean "could be your granddaughter") hits on you in some random Asian bar, assume that your friend sent her.
- Ladies: if your husband has heart problems and you suddenly cannot find him, do not assume that he is "hiding." He is actually lying on the ground behind the bed convulsing just out of your frame of vision.
- When you have a terminal illness, abandoning your family to travel the world with some rando will kind of piss them off.
- Ditto for hiring guys to make your daughter's husband "disappear."
Dune
Long, confusing, and really, really weird. Jess and I only managed to make it through the movie because Jess's mom happened to be watching with us and explaining all the plot points (if, in fact, there actually were any). The basic idea, I guess, was that that in the deserts of Arrackis there is some kind of valuable spice and that interplanetary economy and politics were controlled by the mining thereof. I think that's what it was, anyway. And then there was...Paul. And he had dreams that were actually visions. And the bad guys (led by Sting and Creepy Fat Guy) killed his father...or, no, wait. Somebody (the Traitor...with a capital T) implanted a fake tooth in Paul's dad's head so he could kill the bad guy leader (aka Creepy Fat Guy) by biting down on it and blowing the poison inside said fake tooth (because who wants a fake tooth if it's not full of poisonous gases?) into the bad guy's face, thus killing him. However, Paul's dad, being apparently not the brightest bulb in the bunch, blows the poison into the face of the bad guy's minion, not the leader, thus pissing the bad guy off even more but not accomplishing much else other than that. (Seriously, Paul's Dad, what kind of leader are you that you can't even tell the difference between your arch enemy and his minion?! Really?!)
Anyway, Paul has been creepily dreaming about some girl, and he finally meets her and is all, "I've dreeeeeeamed about you (creepily)!" And the girl's all, "Really? Sweet. Let's make out." Meanwhile, her tribe or whatever makes Paul's pregnant mom their leader, she gives birth, and they ask Paul and his mother to teach them "the Weirding Way," not necessarily in that order. (Apparently, Paul and his mom are of Weirding descent, which is I guess some sort of race or ethnicity or something, and they have special powers. Can I just say though - the Weirding Way? Really?!) Anyway, Paul's sister is creepy and her facial features glow blue, which is - sadly enough - probably the least creepy thing about her. Seriously, I'm going to have a nightmare about her one of these days.
But yeah. Oh, I forgot to mention that Paul has managed to defeat/control the giant sandworms (think those giant sandworms in Beetlejuice) that live in the desert and prevent the easy acquisition of that pesky spice. (I italicize "spice" because that's how everyone always said it in the movie, with a really obvious emphasis, in case the audience hadn't yet realized that the spice was important to the movie.) I also forgot that every time any character had a thought, it was represented by a close-up of their face and an intense whispering voiceover.
But after speaking to other people in their heads for awhile (because that's the Weirding Way, natch), Paul, his mom, and his creepy sister manage to defeat the bad guys and make it rain on the planet Arrackis, which was apparently the goal all along (or not...? It's hard to tell. Plus I was pretty tired by that point.).
This movie literally changed my life. For example, using Arrackis as a metaphor for a middle eastern country like, oh, Iraq, I surmised that someday our crazy competition over the resources (the oil) there will lead to interplanetary--or at least international--warfare (oh, wait...). I also learned that whispering your thoughts in a very intense, urgent manner is always amusing. Jessalyn and I spent a good while practicing our own version of the Weirding Way:
Jess: Wow, I'm tired.
Me: I wonder what I'll have for lunch tomorrow.
Jess: I don't understand this movie.
Me: What exactly is "the Weirding Way?"
And so on. And then we imdb'd it and were amazed at its moderately good rating. Crazy stuff, man. Crazy stuff.
Roman Holiday
Ever since I saw To Kill A Mockingbird, I've loved Gregory Peck. My one question about Roman Holiday is this: WHY DID I WAIT SO LONG TO SEE IT?!
Gregory Peck = LOVE. I only wish I'd been born like 70 years earlier.
Splendor in the Grass
As much as I love Gregory Peck in Roman Holiday (or, okay, anything), that's how much I hated Bud's dad. My hatred for him is rivaled only by my hatred for Deanie's manipulative psycho-bitch of a mother. I hated her even more than Bud's dad, who earned points with me when he threw himself off a building. I spent most of the movie yelling "SHUT UP!!!" at the screen whenever either he or Mrs. Loomis was present.
Other than that, Splendor in the Grass was all right. It's one of Mich's favorite movies, and I will admit that Warren Beatty was quite the looker back in the day, and that Natalie Wood really has the whole "crazy eyes" thing down pat. It was okay, I thought. Not my new favorite (sorry, Mich), but okay.
Rachel Getting Married
It was good. It would have been better if it had been about 20 minutes shorter--there was way too much uninteresting footage of extras dancing around, etc., but the movie really made you feel excited, like you were one of the wedding guests, and Anne Hathaway's performance was incredible. It was such a different role for her, and I hope to see her in other interesting roles (ie, not the cookie-cutter good-girl princessy roles she's been wont to play in the past...the Princess Diaries, Ella Enchanted, etc. I am excluding Brokeback Mountain, of course, but she was only a background player there.)
Anyway, the movie's billed, I believe, as a "dark comedy," but it's definitely a drama. I didn't really laugh, but I definitely cried. And not just because I had a giant blister on my foot from using the walk to the movie theatre to break in my new boots.
Girl With A Pearl Earring
Yes, I finally saw it!!! Colin Firth was as sexy as sin, but other than that it was nothing special. I didn't really pay attention, to tell you the truth. The cinematography wasn't bad, but all in all the movie wasn't anything to write home about.
Little Miss Sunshine
I know, everyone and their mom has already seen this, but I finally got around to watching it over winter break--and it was nothing like I'd expected. It was funny, heartbreaking, touching, etc., etc., etc. If you haven't seen it yet, do it. Do it now.
The Librarian: Curse of the Judas Chalice
Ridiculous. It involved Noah Wyle going around like an Indiana Jones knockoff, being all, "Hello, ladies, I'm a librarian."
Ladies: SWOON!!!
No, seriously. And he was trying to stop some sort of evil plot involving (you guessed it) the Judas chalice, the chalice Christ supposedly drank from at the last supper. And he's helped by some French chick who turns out to be - gasp! - a vampire! Just like the bad guy! Just like his minions! And just like Judas (allegedly). And then they got betrayed by someone - I don't remember who - and then at the end Noah Wyle's vampire lover kills herself by sitting with him on a bench at sunrise (which incinerates her, for those who aren't up on their vampire lore).
And there was a guy who kept calling Noah Wyle "Mistah Pro-fessah Man," which was demeaning on so many levels. Come on, now, people.
And I think that's about it...for now.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
A Crime of Italics
I promised Mich I'd finish reading my stuff for religion class, but this is just ridiculous. The author of this very boring manifesto on cosmology is very fond of using long, flowery words with no dictionary definitions. (Words like "hierophany," for example. WTF does that mean? Why will you not explain, O Crazy Writer?!)
But that's not the most annoying bit. Oh no, that honor goes to the author's apparent obsession with italics, especially italics that make no sense. I'm quite sure that I've gone through entire books that were effective, clear, and direct without using italics AT ALL. So why does this author feel the need to italicize not only random words, but entire sentences?! It's indescribably annoying. But, hey, maybe it's fun to do. Let's try it out, shall we?
Today is Tuesday. This morning I woke up at quarter of ten because I didn't have class until two in the afternoon. Thus, I got to sleep in (you know you're totally jealous). I went to the gym but I'm so incredibly out of shape from all the eating I did over break that I wussed out after twenty minutes on the bike. I took a shower and met my two favorite on-campus Michelles for lunch at Collis. At two I went to class. After, I just hung around at home.
See?! Isn't that ANNOYING?!?! The worst part is that I'm not even exaggerating. It's that bad.
But I still need to finish, as "excessive italics" is not a valid excuse for failing to do the reading.
Right?
But that's not the most annoying bit. Oh no, that honor goes to the author's apparent obsession with italics, especially italics that make no sense. I'm quite sure that I've gone through entire books that were effective, clear, and direct without using italics AT ALL. So why does this author feel the need to italicize not only random words, but entire sentences?! It's indescribably annoying. But, hey, maybe it's fun to do. Let's try it out, shall we?
Today is Tuesday. This morning I woke up at quarter of ten because I didn't have class until two in the afternoon. Thus, I got to sleep in (you know you're totally jealous). I went to the gym but I'm so incredibly out of shape from all the eating I did over break that I wussed out after twenty minutes on the bike. I took a shower and met my two favorite on-campus Michelles for lunch at Collis. At two I went to class. After, I just hung around at home.
See?! Isn't that ANNOYING?!?! The worst part is that I'm not even exaggerating. It's that bad.
But I still need to finish, as "excessive italics" is not a valid excuse for failing to do the reading.
Right?
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Stereotypical Political/Election Post
I was going to update all evening, seeing as this is a historic (or, as some people insist on saying, AN historic) event and all, but then I got caught up in eating cotton candy and drinking generic cola in the common area downstairs while watching Indecision 2008. When the results came in on CNN, everyone jumped up and started screaming and hugging. It felt like New Years, but with some actual cultural significance. Here's hoping Barack Obama is better at keeping resolutions than I am.
So, in the spirit of excitement, Michi and David and I decided to walk to the Green, expecting that there would be some sort of gathering there. Wrong. We did, however, have fun lying in the (empty) street and taking pictures of us imitating the pedestrian symbol painted on the ground near the crosswalk. We then proceeded to walk around campus and return home in time to watch Obama's speech on Dee's laptop (yay for streaming television!). Apparently there are people on the Green now. I can here them screaming from all the way across campus. Jeez, you miss out on so much when you're ahead of your time like the three of us were. I seriously don't know what I'm going to do without Michi and David when they go to the Latino conference this weekend. I mean, we've already christened me an honorary Mexican. I should be an honorary candidate, too.
They're letting off fireworks now? Seriously? I mean, I know we're in New Hampshire and it's therefore legal (unlike in my lovely home state of Massachusetts, where people just drive fifteen minutes over the border to legally buy fireworks and then proceed to illegally set them off - loudly - in Massachusetts at inconvenient times, such as when one is trying to sleep or have a phone conversation), but come on! I feel so left out!
I have to be up at 7:00 tomorrow morning for 7:45 drill, and I still have some reading to do, so I'd better get going. But one more exciting (?) thing before I go - my blog has ONE follower.
Thanks, Mom, but I don't need your pity. That's why I moved out.
Just kidding. I don't know who this person is because I haven't bothered to check yet, but thank you. You are my light, my self-esteem-booster, my--
Oh shoot, I left my laundry in the laundry room. I haven't switched to the dryer yet. Now I have to leave it there overnight.
Fiddlesticks.
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