I am the biggest dork on earth.
I was at Farm & Fleet with my parents (dorky in and of itself), and I started looking at their tapes & DVD's, because they have a wide assortment of cheap ones, though usually old and/or B level films. I start going through it, yelling my various enthusiastic comments to my parents who are at varying distances during this.
"Wow! They have Jurassic Park! I love Jurassic Park! I can't believe it's in here! Eh.... I probably won't get it, though. It's on TV constantly. And it's a pre-owned tape."
"Oh! Mad Max! Dad, you're all about Mad Max, aren't you?" My dad makes some non comittal noises back.
"Oh my gosh! They have Cool Runnings on DVD! Do you remember that? That movie's awesome, man!" Dad's like, "Yeah, that's the one with the bobsledders, right?" I'm like, "Come on, you KNOW it's got to be some good stuff if it's got Doug E. Doug in it!"
"Wait! Mom! Have you bought everything yet? I've finally found one I want. It's the best EVER!" Mom has just gotten to the front of the line and tells me to hurry.
I hand over the DVD to the cashier with a flourish, "It's Grumpier Old Men!" I proudly announce, and I can tell he's trying his best not to laugh his ass off at me, though in a friendly way.
Good times.
I've got a mind that can steer me to your house
and a heart that can bring you red flowers
My intentions are good, and earnest, and true
but under my hood is internal combustion power
satan is my motor
--"Satan is my Motor," Cake
TV: "Lesbian Bandits" next on "Geraldo!"
Max: Ooooh Lesbians. Yummy!
--Grumpier Old Men
Wednesday, June 23, 2004
I'm glad I never get rid of CD's, no matter how crappy or lame I think they are at a certain point in time. This does leave me with a lot of embarassing baggage (the Spice Girls), but I do seem to have a weird pattern of not liking a certain percentage of the CD's I buy, and then getting into them insanely long amounts of time afterwards.
Right now I'm way into Marcy Playground's Shapeshifter , which I got like, 2 years ago, and haven't really liked until now. And this is despite liking their self-titled album immediately.
I guess I'm rather slow on the Marcy Playground front anyway. I got the self-titled 5 years after it was released, because I was like, "Hmm, I kind of used to like that sex & candy song," one day. Which is actually how I got into Ben Folds Five, and any number of the one hit wonder groups I seem to cherish.
I dunno. That all is kind of boring/babbly, but I felt like jotting it down for posterity.
So I came in the dead of night
climbed up into the satellite and
looked out over America
I swear I could see the buffalo
ooh, ooh, oh and I never wanna leave
ooh, ooh, this place
ooh, ooh, yes I always wanna be
right here
--"America," Marcy Playground
Right now I'm way into Marcy Playground's Shapeshifter , which I got like, 2 years ago, and haven't really liked until now. And this is despite liking their self-titled album immediately.
I guess I'm rather slow on the Marcy Playground front anyway. I got the self-titled 5 years after it was released, because I was like, "Hmm, I kind of used to like that sex & candy song," one day. Which is actually how I got into Ben Folds Five, and any number of the one hit wonder groups I seem to cherish.
I dunno. That all is kind of boring/babbly, but I felt like jotting it down for posterity.
So I came in the dead of night
climbed up into the satellite and
looked out over America
I swear I could see the buffalo
ooh, ooh, oh and I never wanna leave
ooh, ooh, this place
ooh, ooh, yes I always wanna be
right here
--"America," Marcy Playground
Phoemeister: If I hear one more damned person say "pear shaped"!!
Phoemeister: I will hurt them
Talia: having it called 'junk in the trunk' annoys me hehe
Phoemeister: yeah, that's annoying too, thankfully I don't hang out with the type of people who use that phrase
Talia: or ka dunka dunk
Phoemeister: I've not heard that
Talia: it's more of a black person phrase I've heard on tv
Phoemeister: lol
Phoemeister: I'm too white and out of it
Phoemeister: I noticed when I was writing that sitcom pilot where the one character was supposed to over use slang, everything I've got is from like, 1992.
Talia: I like to watch TLC's What Not to Wear and hear a black lady on there talking :-P
Phoemeister: LOL
Phoemeister: Man, I am REALLY lame if someone on TLC, albeit african american, can out street-talk me.
Talia: the lady dressed like a street walker and her family really wanted her to have a make over and be taught how to dress
Phoemeister: Oh. I thought you meant someone who helps give the makeovers
Talia: no, she was getting one
Phoemeister: Yeah, I don't mind being lamer than someone they had to drag kicking and screaming onto TLC. Just as long as she doesn't work for TLC.
Phoemeister: I will hurt them
Talia: having it called 'junk in the trunk' annoys me hehe
Phoemeister: yeah, that's annoying too, thankfully I don't hang out with the type of people who use that phrase
Talia: or ka dunka dunk
Phoemeister: I've not heard that
Talia: it's more of a black person phrase I've heard on tv
Phoemeister: lol
Phoemeister: I'm too white and out of it
Phoemeister: I noticed when I was writing that sitcom pilot where the one character was supposed to over use slang, everything I've got is from like, 1992.
Talia: I like to watch TLC's What Not to Wear and hear a black lady on there talking :-P
Phoemeister: LOL
Phoemeister: Man, I am REALLY lame if someone on TLC, albeit african american, can out street-talk me.
Talia: the lady dressed like a street walker and her family really wanted her to have a make over and be taught how to dress
Phoemeister: Oh. I thought you meant someone who helps give the makeovers
Talia: no, she was getting one
Phoemeister: Yeah, I don't mind being lamer than someone they had to drag kicking and screaming onto TLC. Just as long as she doesn't work for TLC.
Tuesday, June 22, 2004
The one good thing about colitis: if I don't want to do something, it makes the perfect excuse. I find it easy to fake being miserable from something that really makes me miserable 80% of the time anyway. And since it's normally erratic, there's no pattern. I can throw out fake colitis vibes at any time, and it's not suspicious. It's about the only lying I'm good at.
No, this does not make up for actually having colitis, or even for the things I actually want to do that I can't because of a colitis flare up. The sad fact is, the times I actually want to do something and get sick very much outnumber the times I use it as an excuse. The wolf is there far more times than not when I cry it.
But anyway, now I've become completely dependent on this excuse. I totally forgot to do something the other day for someone who doesn't really know about my disease, and that was the first excuse I thought of to tell them, but I didn't really want to bust it out just to use it as a fake excuse for not showing up for something that I quite frankly forgot about.
What? I should tell people the truth about things? Psh...
No, this does not make up for actually having colitis, or even for the things I actually want to do that I can't because of a colitis flare up. The sad fact is, the times I actually want to do something and get sick very much outnumber the times I use it as an excuse. The wolf is there far more times than not when I cry it.
But anyway, now I've become completely dependent on this excuse. I totally forgot to do something the other day for someone who doesn't really know about my disease, and that was the first excuse I thought of to tell them, but I didn't really want to bust it out just to use it as a fake excuse for not showing up for something that I quite frankly forgot about.
What? I should tell people the truth about things? Psh...
Sunday, June 20, 2004
Saturday, June 19, 2004
The last two days I've been working at staining my sister's deck. Why I get roped into all of these home improvement projects at her house, I couldn't say. So now it's that kind of bluey-gray that any "country" knick-knack (the type of thing you pick up at a craft fair and/or is made of wood and/or says "welcome friends") seems to have somewhere on it. I got some on myself, and it soaked in pretty well, so I pretty much look like I have some Grade A varicose veins. Good times.
We'd meant to do this ages ago, but it keeps raining. Every day for the last month or more, it seems as if it's either rained or looked like it was about to rain, it was good to get out and do it already. But the funniest bit of the whole deck stainin' experience was this robin who had its nest under the deck. I was a bit worried for her and her babies, because the stain tends to drip through some, but it all seems okay. The bird, however, was a lot more worried about us getting near her precious nest, particularly my dad. She (and eventually another robin who we assumed was the original robin's babies' daddy) chirped at us quite a bit, and finally started dive bombing my Dad while he was under there. More good times.
And my Mom capped off the day by making one of my favorite meals, stir fry. I feel bad, because she's been feeling really sick lately, I should probably cook myself some. She doesn't like to let me cook though, because she feels like it makes a mess of her kitchen even if I promise to clean up when I'm through. Suffice it to say, I've been eating a lot of fast food and frozen food lately. So I was sitting out on the porch before dinner tonight, smelling stir fry, and listening to Ben Folds on headphones feeling very content. It doesn't get much better than that.
We'd meant to do this ages ago, but it keeps raining. Every day for the last month or more, it seems as if it's either rained or looked like it was about to rain, it was good to get out and do it already. But the funniest bit of the whole deck stainin' experience was this robin who had its nest under the deck. I was a bit worried for her and her babies, because the stain tends to drip through some, but it all seems okay. The bird, however, was a lot more worried about us getting near her precious nest, particularly my dad. She (and eventually another robin who we assumed was the original robin's babies' daddy) chirped at us quite a bit, and finally started dive bombing my Dad while he was under there. More good times.
And my Mom capped off the day by making one of my favorite meals, stir fry. I feel bad, because she's been feeling really sick lately, I should probably cook myself some. She doesn't like to let me cook though, because she feels like it makes a mess of her kitchen even if I promise to clean up when I'm through. Suffice it to say, I've been eating a lot of fast food and frozen food lately. So I was sitting out on the porch before dinner tonight, smelling stir fry, and listening to Ben Folds on headphones feeling very content. It doesn't get much better than that.
Wednesday, June 16, 2004
Well I was right about going through the 5 books too fast, now I only have one left. But instead of starting the last one right away, I went back to Dorian Grey, since I despise it so much. The worse you like a book, the longer it lasts, I've found.
Though, I have realized it's a little faster going if I skip some of their pointless speeches about this and that. The book only gets worse, though. Of the three main characters, one is stupid and the other two have become hopeless jerks. The picture aging is a really interesting concept, but they hardly focus on it, more on how Dorian just seems to become more and more of a jerk from hanging out with the other one.
Anyways, I'm not sure what I'm going to do with myself if I don't pick up more books when I'm done. This is the problem with having neither a social or professional life.
Though, I have realized it's a little faster going if I skip some of their pointless speeches about this and that. The book only gets worse, though. Of the three main characters, one is stupid and the other two have become hopeless jerks. The picture aging is a really interesting concept, but they hardly focus on it, more on how Dorian just seems to become more and more of a jerk from hanging out with the other one.
Anyways, I'm not sure what I'm going to do with myself if I don't pick up more books when I'm done. This is the problem with having neither a social or professional life.
Monday, June 14, 2004
The bookstore at The Mall is going out of business. Actually, we have 3 malls, but only one of them is "The Mall." The other two malls (College Hills & the Outlet Mall) are on their last legs. The outlet mall (which I worked at for a short time) never has been successful, whereas I'm not exactly sure what torpedoed the other one, I remember going there all the time as a kid.
I'm not sure if The Mall is starting to have this same problem or if it just happens to be something with the bookstore. A lot of big chain stores unnattached to the mall have popped up around here over the years, so I don't know if that's draining off their customers or what. I myself rarely visit the mall anymore (the only shopping I really like to do is at Barnes & Noble or Best Buy), so I might be contributing to this whole thing.
Anyway, I went to The Mall and bought a buttload of books, since the closing sale renders them 30% off. I picked up Pigs in Heaven, which is the sequel to a book called The Bean Trees, which I read a couple days ago because a friend said that the main character reminded him of me, and of course when someone says something like that the curiousity eats you up. Though another friend has compared me to this chick in a novel where she has to herd this group of ancient vikings around a modern town with hilarity ensuing, but it's obscure enough I haven't been able to pick it up yet, so the curiousity's still eating me on that point. I thought of getting another of the Bean Trees' author (Barbara Kingsolver)'s books, but most of hers are in that big format that costs twice as much that I abhor buying even at a discount, so instead I picked up a couple Michael Crichton novels I haven't read. I think after these (the first Jurassic Park novel, which I don't know why I've never read it, and The Great Train Robbery), I will have read all of his considerably prolific work except for Eaters of the Dead. Also I got a sequel to another one of the books I got last time (The Novice) and a random one that is about aztecs or parallel universes or something like that.
Though, the way I fly through books if they're any good, I don't know how long these'll last me, since I find myself bored and unemployed this summer. I already finished The Novice today (and a book I'd finished this morning before I left to get more). I should probably go to the library.
I'm not sure if The Mall is starting to have this same problem or if it just happens to be something with the bookstore. A lot of big chain stores unnattached to the mall have popped up around here over the years, so I don't know if that's draining off their customers or what. I myself rarely visit the mall anymore (the only shopping I really like to do is at Barnes & Noble or Best Buy), so I might be contributing to this whole thing.
Anyway, I went to The Mall and bought a buttload of books, since the closing sale renders them 30% off. I picked up Pigs in Heaven, which is the sequel to a book called The Bean Trees, which I read a couple days ago because a friend said that the main character reminded him of me, and of course when someone says something like that the curiousity eats you up. Though another friend has compared me to this chick in a novel where she has to herd this group of ancient vikings around a modern town with hilarity ensuing, but it's obscure enough I haven't been able to pick it up yet, so the curiousity's still eating me on that point. I thought of getting another of the Bean Trees' author (Barbara Kingsolver)'s books, but most of hers are in that big format that costs twice as much that I abhor buying even at a discount, so instead I picked up a couple Michael Crichton novels I haven't read. I think after these (the first Jurassic Park novel, which I don't know why I've never read it, and The Great Train Robbery), I will have read all of his considerably prolific work except for Eaters of the Dead. Also I got a sequel to another one of the books I got last time (The Novice) and a random one that is about aztecs or parallel universes or something like that.
Though, the way I fly through books if they're any good, I don't know how long these'll last me, since I find myself bored and unemployed this summer. I already finished The Novice today (and a book I'd finished this morning before I left to get more). I should probably go to the library.
Sunday, June 13, 2004
Tonight was the first meet for my 8-ball league. I was a little worried at first.... there's all these bizarre rules they play by, like you have to call all your shots and if you scratch the other person can put the cue ball anywhere, and scratching is defined differently too.
Buut... I actually played a little better than when Dad and I were practicing the other night, so it turned out not too bad. I actually won against this one poor woman who was even worse than I, and didn't get too slaughtered by the two people I lost against. So yay!
Buut... I actually played a little better than when Dad and I were practicing the other night, so it turned out not too bad. I actually won against this one poor woman who was even worse than I, and didn't get too slaughtered by the two people I lost against. So yay!
Saturday, June 12, 2004
I have this theory that my circadian rhythm is longer than 24 hours, because I like to stay awake for longer periods of time, then sleep for longer periods of time than the standard for most people. I never feel like I'm done doing one when I'm forced to start the other.
On top of that, I think I just need more sleep than people in general. I've been going to bed at 3a.m. and getting up at 11a.m. (because my mom insists on waking me up at 11 no matter when I stay up to at night, so I better not stay up later than 3). You'd think with 8 hours of sleep, I'd be fine, but I'm dead tired lately.
Today, my dad and I were watching Return of the King, and I totally would've fallen asleep if my dad didn't like to cheer the characters on (really, he does do this. Even in theatres) thereby startling me awake when "Go Frodo!" or "Get 'im, Sam!" is shouted loudly near me at random intervals. I actually kind of would've rathered falling asleep, since I've seen it before and, as I've mentioned, am dead tired lately. But every time I try to go to sleep before 3, I can't sleep and then have just wasted the time I thought I would gain in sleep on thrashing around TRYING to get to sleep.
On top of that, I think I just need more sleep than people in general. I've been going to bed at 3a.m. and getting up at 11a.m. (because my mom insists on waking me up at 11 no matter when I stay up to at night, so I better not stay up later than 3). You'd think with 8 hours of sleep, I'd be fine, but I'm dead tired lately.
Today, my dad and I were watching Return of the King, and I totally would've fallen asleep if my dad didn't like to cheer the characters on (really, he does do this. Even in theatres) thereby startling me awake when "Go Frodo!" or "Get 'im, Sam!" is shouted loudly near me at random intervals. I actually kind of would've rathered falling asleep, since I've seen it before and, as I've mentioned, am dead tired lately. But every time I try to go to sleep before 3, I can't sleep and then have just wasted the time I thought I would gain in sleep on thrashing around TRYING to get to sleep.
Friday, June 11, 2004
I don't think I've mentioned on here before, but I signed up to be on this recreational billiards league with my Dad. I thought it would be interesting, I could spend quality time with my Dad, and brush up on the ol' pool skillz.
Anyway, neither of us had played in a long time, so we decided to practice first, which we did today. It was pitiful.... my Dad's mediocre and I myself am absolutely awful.
My dad cracks me up, though, he used to be fairly good, so he knows all the lingo and sounds completely like he knows what he's doing, and I'm totally copying it all. I'm such the wannabe pool shark, though I'm incredibly poor. I used to be somewhat alright, because I took a weekend course at ISU once that told you how to do a couple things, but I've forgotten how to do all them. True story.
Ted's out in the seat right next to me
yeah, he's drooling on his sleeve
--"The Vast Spoils of America," Saves The Day
And Karyn is with us. A West Texas girl, just like me!
--George W. Bush
Anyway, neither of us had played in a long time, so we decided to practice first, which we did today. It was pitiful.... my Dad's mediocre and I myself am absolutely awful.
My dad cracks me up, though, he used to be fairly good, so he knows all the lingo and sounds completely like he knows what he's doing, and I'm totally copying it all. I'm such the wannabe pool shark, though I'm incredibly poor. I used to be somewhat alright, because I took a weekend course at ISU once that told you how to do a couple things, but I've forgotten how to do all them. True story.
Ted's out in the seat right next to me
yeah, he's drooling on his sleeve
--"The Vast Spoils of America," Saves The Day
And Karyn is with us. A West Texas girl, just like me!
--George W. Bush
Wednesday, June 09, 2004
Today I got a package in the mail from Ryan. Usually I don't like my internet friends to send me things, because I'm pretty sure if my parents knew that I gave any of them my address they would hit the wall, because my Mom, at least, thinks everyone on the net is a hacker, a stalker, or a perv. Which is somewhat of a contradiction, as she spends a good deal of time on the internet as well.
Mostly, I agreed because he was being so darned mysterious about what he wanted to send me. So, stalkers and pervs: if you want me to give up my address, curiousity is my achilles heel much more than avarice. Most happily, my parents (who normally pick up the mail right when it comes in) were at the Dr's office today, so I could sneak it in without lying (which I hate and am horrible at) about where it came from.
Anyway, it was a signed copy of Ben Folds' Rockin' the Suburbs," which I can see why he thought of me when he found it lying arounhd, because he knows that I seriously want Ben to have my babies.
Which got me thinking: that brings my autograph collection up to 3. The other two being a signed copy of Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse Five, which is technically my Dad's but I stole it from him a long time ago. Neither Dad, nor I, even knew it was autographed until I took the dust cover off one day for some reason. I looked it up on Ebay once, and it's at least $100, but I wouldn't sell it. And...
A signed picture of the guy who played Ensign Harry Kim on Star Trek: Voyager (I don't really know the dude's actual name). Which, I DO enjoy Star Trek. But not as much as my cousin, who goes to all of the conventions and everything. According to my Dad (who knows her better than I), its not so much Star Trek that she loves, but Bill Shatner, which kind of frightens me*. This all boils down to the fact that she got Harry's autograph at one of the conventions and sent it to me for high school graduation. My mom was all, "Save it! It could be worth a lot of money someday!" but I doubt it because after Voyager tanked, I haven't really seen him in anything else.
So anyway, I think I must be the coolest or lamest ever. Not everyone can say they have autographs from Ben, Kurt, and the token Asian dude from Star Trek: Voyager.
Lore: They really shouldn't let me into these wax museums.
Lore: One of these days I'm going to steal a Jacqueline Onassis and a Moe Howard.
Lore: And make them do unspeakable things.
--Lore Brand Comics
___
* Though, according to a friend, Bill's been in a fairly good movie (in Esperanto, no less!) where he falls in love with a demon or something :P
Mostly, I agreed because he was being so darned mysterious about what he wanted to send me. So, stalkers and pervs: if you want me to give up my address, curiousity is my achilles heel much more than avarice. Most happily, my parents (who normally pick up the mail right when it comes in) were at the Dr's office today, so I could sneak it in without lying (which I hate and am horrible at) about where it came from.
Anyway, it was a signed copy of Ben Folds' Rockin' the Suburbs," which I can see why he thought of me when he found it lying arounhd, because he knows that I seriously want Ben to have my babies.
Which got me thinking: that brings my autograph collection up to 3. The other two being a signed copy of Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse Five, which is technically my Dad's but I stole it from him a long time ago. Neither Dad, nor I, even knew it was autographed until I took the dust cover off one day for some reason. I looked it up on Ebay once, and it's at least $100, but I wouldn't sell it. And...
A signed picture of the guy who played Ensign Harry Kim on Star Trek: Voyager (I don't really know the dude's actual name). Which, I DO enjoy Star Trek. But not as much as my cousin, who goes to all of the conventions and everything. According to my Dad (who knows her better than I), its not so much Star Trek that she loves, but Bill Shatner, which kind of frightens me*. This all boils down to the fact that she got Harry's autograph at one of the conventions and sent it to me for high school graduation. My mom was all, "Save it! It could be worth a lot of money someday!" but I doubt it because after Voyager tanked, I haven't really seen him in anything else.
So anyway, I think I must be the coolest or lamest ever. Not everyone can say they have autographs from Ben, Kurt, and the token Asian dude from Star Trek: Voyager.
Lore: They really shouldn't let me into these wax museums.
Lore: One of these days I'm going to steal a Jacqueline Onassis and a Moe Howard.
Lore: And make them do unspeakable things.
--Lore Brand Comics
___
* Though, according to a friend, Bill's been in a fairly good movie (in Esperanto, no less!) where he falls in love with a demon or something :P
Tuesday, June 08, 2004
Today I saw The Day After Tomorrow, which I enjoyed overall. The one thing that made me laugh, though was this:
There's this scene where some people want to burn books to keep warm, and these librarians are all, "No, don't burn knowledge!" but it killed me, because they're standing in this room full of wood furniture at the time they're arguing about this. Plus, various shots of other rooms are also plentiful in the wood furniture. Plus, whether or not you give a crap about burning knowledge, wood makes a helluva lot better of a fire than paper! I can see ripping out some pages for kindling, but whole books are nearly as hard to light as wood is, and just smoulders instead of making a fire capable of lasting very long or giving off very much heat.
Oh, also I found it a bit preachy, they keep talking about how our irresponsible ways brought on this ice age. Which... I am pro-environment, and I do find the way that we ignore global warming reprehensible. But there WAS an ice age however long ago that we had nothing to do with causing. The people in the movie might've sped it up a bit, but I don't really think it came on soley because the VP wouldn't listen to crazy fringe-group scientist Dennis Quaid's ideas and sign the Kyoto accord like, a month before the storms hit.
.....but still a pretty good movie :D
Boy on a Stick: God told me I'm precious
Slither: God said I was His right-hand man.
Boas: God invited me to His birthday party.
S: I went to God's slumber party last summer.
Boas: God helps ME with my homework!
S: God gave ME His lucky rabbit's foot!
Boas: God loves me best!
S: That's not what He told me!
God: ha ha ha! Man! It's fun to mess with people!
--Boy on a Stick and Slither
There's this scene where some people want to burn books to keep warm, and these librarians are all, "No, don't burn knowledge!" but it killed me, because they're standing in this room full of wood furniture at the time they're arguing about this. Plus, various shots of other rooms are also plentiful in the wood furniture. Plus, whether or not you give a crap about burning knowledge, wood makes a helluva lot better of a fire than paper! I can see ripping out some pages for kindling, but whole books are nearly as hard to light as wood is, and just smoulders instead of making a fire capable of lasting very long or giving off very much heat.
Oh, also I found it a bit preachy, they keep talking about how our irresponsible ways brought on this ice age. Which... I am pro-environment, and I do find the way that we ignore global warming reprehensible. But there WAS an ice age however long ago that we had nothing to do with causing. The people in the movie might've sped it up a bit, but I don't really think it came on soley because the VP wouldn't listen to crazy fringe-group scientist Dennis Quaid's ideas and sign the Kyoto accord like, a month before the storms hit.
.....but still a pretty good movie :D
Boy on a Stick: God told me I'm precious
Slither: God said I was His right-hand man.
Boas: God invited me to His birthday party.
S: I went to God's slumber party last summer.
Boas: God helps ME with my homework!
S: God gave ME His lucky rabbit's foot!
Boas: God loves me best!
S: That's not what He told me!
God: ha ha ha! Man! It's fun to mess with people!
--Boy on a Stick and Slither
Monday, June 07, 2004
Sister's baby shower today. I never really like these sorts of things, but hey. One really nice thing was one of my sister's friends came over to talk to me for awhile and we had a good conversation. My problem with a lot of showers is not having anyone to hang out with. Technically, I did sit at a table with my Mom and this neighbor we've had all our lives, but they only wanted to talk about old people stuff,* and the whole situation with my Grandpa's girlfriend which I find to be a kind of torture, it's so depressing.
One thing that did burn me, though, is that my sister registered, so she got no duplicates. Save one. Yeah, you guessed it: someone went and bought her the same thing as me. She's keeping mine and not theirs (I got the actual brand she asked for on the registry, whereas the other person got some random one), but it really made me mad, because I wanted my gift to be special. I mean, technically it's not that special because someone would probably have gotten her the baby swing if I hadn't, but still. The whole point of registries is to avoid duplicates.
And, though this is a totally different topic, I'm going with it: Ronald Reagan's death. I know that Reagan was like, the oldest president ever in office, but it still feels weird to have the guy who was president when you were born die. It's like an age milestone or something. Honestly, though, I don't remember that much about Reagan, the only Reagan-related thing I can really remember experiencing is when that dude tried to shoot him.
Anyway, some of the clips of him they've been showing have been interesting. I mean, I know they aren't going to say anything bad about him, because he just died, but he's got some fairly impressive achievements going on, cold war-wise. And he's genuinely funny. Not that I think we should vote on presidents based on funny, but it was still interesting. It makes him seem like he would've been a cool guy to know when he was alive.
RIP the Gipper.
___
* Old people talk includes but is not limited to: illnesses, people who've died recently, gossip about people you knew 20 years ago but don't anymore but still feel the need to gossip about them, gas prices, and probably more I've left out.
One thing that did burn me, though, is that my sister registered, so she got no duplicates. Save one. Yeah, you guessed it: someone went and bought her the same thing as me. She's keeping mine and not theirs (I got the actual brand she asked for on the registry, whereas the other person got some random one), but it really made me mad, because I wanted my gift to be special. I mean, technically it's not that special because someone would probably have gotten her the baby swing if I hadn't, but still. The whole point of registries is to avoid duplicates.
And, though this is a totally different topic, I'm going with it: Ronald Reagan's death. I know that Reagan was like, the oldest president ever in office, but it still feels weird to have the guy who was president when you were born die. It's like an age milestone or something. Honestly, though, I don't remember that much about Reagan, the only Reagan-related thing I can really remember experiencing is when that dude tried to shoot him.
Anyway, some of the clips of him they've been showing have been interesting. I mean, I know they aren't going to say anything bad about him, because he just died, but he's got some fairly impressive achievements going on, cold war-wise. And he's genuinely funny. Not that I think we should vote on presidents based on funny, but it was still interesting. It makes him seem like he would've been a cool guy to know when he was alive.
RIP the Gipper.
___
* Old people talk includes but is not limited to: illnesses, people who've died recently, gossip about people you knew 20 years ago but don't anymore but still feel the need to gossip about them, gas prices, and probably more I've left out.
Saturday, June 05, 2004
Went to the bookstore today. As I'm trying to give myself a little rest from pulp fantasy/sf for awhile, one of the books I picked up was Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray. It's something I've been meaning to look at for awhile, I learned a bit about him when I was in Ireland and he's a very interesting guy, and I've seen a movie adaptation of one of his plays that was quite good.
Not as good as I expected, though. I admit, I'm only about thirty or forty pages in, but the old style of writing is getting to me. Basically, one or the other of the characters will just start in on some subject or other and let fly. I DO realize they're trying to set up the premise (I haven't gotten to it yet, but I understand that basically the portrait of Dorian Gray grows older while Dorian Gray himself remains ageless), but it's still widely annoying to read long lectures about the virtues of beauty or beauty vs intelligence, or being special vs ordinary.
Also, most of them seem to be excuses for Wilde to throw in a bunch of one-liners. It reminds me of a really bad sitcom pilot or a really bad movie that's supposed to be a comedy, but instead of paying attention to making the situations or characters intrinsically funny so that the comedy seems natural, it's just throwing out quip after quip, which get less and less funny because they just scream "look at me! I'm so clever!" Add to that, 19th century one liners are rather more bland than the 21th century ones I'm accustomed to, and you get a long speechs full of mediocre jokes that don't make the dumb speech one iota less boring.
Also I got About a Boy. Lately I've been slipping into this habit of seeing movies and then buying the books they're based on. It is quite better than reading the book then seeing the movie, because you don't feel depressed that they cut stuff out of the book you loved, you more feel like the book is building on a movie you loved. But anyway, it makes me feel guilty to pay like 14 dollars (it burns me books famous enough to be movies tend to be only available in the oversized format that costs twice as much) for a book that I already know pretty much what happens in.
Aside from the guilt, it was very good, you got to see more what was going on inside the character's heads, which is one of the bigger atvantages books have over movies (though About a Boy the movie does have some voiceover).
Another thing I found interesting was that the book was purposefully set in '93-94 to sort of include Kurt Cobain's suicide (whereas specific dates and Cobain aren't really mentioned in the movie). I could see how it tied in very well with a number of things going on in the book, but I found it most interesting that the kid in the novel probably works out to be about the same age I was back then. And both of us were totally lonely and clueless about that time. I remember having no idea what grunge was, just knowing that flannel was big. And not even understanding that, going out and getting brightly colored flannels, even a pink and blue one I have to this day. And I really didn't know anything about any music recorded since 1969, unless you count Achy Breaky Heart. The parallels between Marcus and I made me kind of sad, though. Because he learns to integrate himself and make friends at school, whereas I was 16 before I made any, which I then lost when I graduated high school, so am back to desperately lonely loser again, even though I'm twenty freakin' two and should damn well know how to socialize properly by now.
The other book I got was a pulp fantasy novel despite my intentions, but I don't know how it is yet as I've not started.
Not as good as I expected, though. I admit, I'm only about thirty or forty pages in, but the old style of writing is getting to me. Basically, one or the other of the characters will just start in on some subject or other and let fly. I DO realize they're trying to set up the premise (I haven't gotten to it yet, but I understand that basically the portrait of Dorian Gray grows older while Dorian Gray himself remains ageless), but it's still widely annoying to read long lectures about the virtues of beauty or beauty vs intelligence, or being special vs ordinary.
Also, most of them seem to be excuses for Wilde to throw in a bunch of one-liners. It reminds me of a really bad sitcom pilot or a really bad movie that's supposed to be a comedy, but instead of paying attention to making the situations or characters intrinsically funny so that the comedy seems natural, it's just throwing out quip after quip, which get less and less funny because they just scream "look at me! I'm so clever!" Add to that, 19th century one liners are rather more bland than the 21th century ones I'm accustomed to, and you get a long speechs full of mediocre jokes that don't make the dumb speech one iota less boring.
Also I got About a Boy. Lately I've been slipping into this habit of seeing movies and then buying the books they're based on. It is quite better than reading the book then seeing the movie, because you don't feel depressed that they cut stuff out of the book you loved, you more feel like the book is building on a movie you loved. But anyway, it makes me feel guilty to pay like 14 dollars (it burns me books famous enough to be movies tend to be only available in the oversized format that costs twice as much) for a book that I already know pretty much what happens in.
Aside from the guilt, it was very good, you got to see more what was going on inside the character's heads, which is one of the bigger atvantages books have over movies (though About a Boy the movie does have some voiceover).
Another thing I found interesting was that the book was purposefully set in '93-94 to sort of include Kurt Cobain's suicide (whereas specific dates and Cobain aren't really mentioned in the movie). I could see how it tied in very well with a number of things going on in the book, but I found it most interesting that the kid in the novel probably works out to be about the same age I was back then. And both of us were totally lonely and clueless about that time. I remember having no idea what grunge was, just knowing that flannel was big. And not even understanding that, going out and getting brightly colored flannels, even a pink and blue one I have to this day. And I really didn't know anything about any music recorded since 1969, unless you count Achy Breaky Heart. The parallels between Marcus and I made me kind of sad, though. Because he learns to integrate himself and make friends at school, whereas I was 16 before I made any, which I then lost when I graduated high school, so am back to desperately lonely loser again, even though I'm twenty freakin' two and should damn well know how to socialize properly by now.
The other book I got was a pulp fantasy novel despite my intentions, but I don't know how it is yet as I've not started.
Wednesday, June 02, 2004
I get depressed when I read the blogs of people my age. They always have these great things that happened to them that they're blogging. Whereas most of my "good stories," happened in high school, and even then they're not that great, they're more lame ones like that Flannery/Quequeg thing I mentioned in the last post.*
Right now most of my entries discuss some horrible thing that's happening to my bowels or something that aptly illustrates the ennui I am feeling lately such as "I read one of those mystery books where the cat helps solve the mystery, today." Which, both my bowels are acting up and I did read a book like that, so I guess that's my day for ya.
_____
* Which, I actually finally did remember what the names actually were. She was Yelena Ayatollah McNally, and I was Quequeg Flannery Rand. The extra bit obviously comes from Rand McNally, which I don't know why we threw that in. The Pinshaw bit I mistakenly put in before was from a different set of nicknames we came up one day when we were at a restaurant waiting for our party to be called for ages, and there was a "Pinshaw, party of two" called, and we came up with this elaborate scheme to prove that we were the Pinshaw twins (fraternal, not identical) so we could steal their reservation and eat. Of course we never actually tried actually executing this scheme, because that would actually involve something happening in one of my stories.
Right now most of my entries discuss some horrible thing that's happening to my bowels or something that aptly illustrates the ennui I am feeling lately such as "I read one of those mystery books where the cat helps solve the mystery, today." Which, both my bowels are acting up and I did read a book like that, so I guess that's my day for ya.
_____
* Which, I actually finally did remember what the names actually were. She was Yelena Ayatollah McNally, and I was Quequeg Flannery Rand. The extra bit obviously comes from Rand McNally, which I don't know why we threw that in. The Pinshaw bit I mistakenly put in before was from a different set of nicknames we came up one day when we were at a restaurant waiting for our party to be called for ages, and there was a "Pinshaw, party of two" called, and we came up with this elaborate scheme to prove that we were the Pinshaw twins (fraternal, not identical) so we could steal their reservation and eat. Of course we never actually tried actually executing this scheme, because that would actually involve something happening in one of my stories.
Tuesday, June 01, 2004
Flannery O'Connor wrote your book. Not much escapes
your notice.
Which Author's Fiction are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
H.G. Wells
The first major literary talent to make himself at home in the science fiction field, greatly expanding its popularity.
Which SF author are you?
The bit about Flannery O'Connor frightens me a bit because her stories are messed up. Like, the one story of hers I remember this guy is stranded out somewhere and this family marrys him off to their mentally challenged daughter, which he doesn't really want to marry her, but he wants their truck so he can drive out of there, so he does and then leaves the daughter in a diner somewhere and drives off.
I do, however, remember being greatly impressed by the name "Flannery," after reading the story, though. I had a friend at the time who I was pretty often giving bizarre nicknames to (who recipricated in turn) that I called Yelena Flannery Pinshaw Ayatollah or somesuch. And I was Something Quequeg Something. Ayatollah came from us talking about Iran one day, Yelena was some figure skater, and Quequeg was a character in Moby Dick, which we'd read in the same sophmore english class as the Flannery O'Connor story.
Also, we had to read the page-long biography blurb on her, and I have no idea why I remember this, but she would sit down to write every day for an hour, even if she didn't have anything to write (then she'd just sit on her desk). And particularrly distracting was a disease she had called Lupus, an auto-immune disease where the immune system attacks the connective tissues in the body causing extreme pain (which I can identify with seeing as how Colitis is the same only with my poor colon taking the attack instead of connective tissue, only I didn't have colitis back then), and for years afterwards I would pretend I was an expert on Lupus just from the information about it contained in the blurb.
A lot of my memories are like this.
Ha. I wasn't going to post the results, because I never really liked the Garbage Pail kids particularly, but I had to when I saw the name of the particular GP kid in the picture. *sigh* It was meant to be.
You're a Garbage Pail Kid!! You're dirty, foul,
disgusting, and wrong. But you're still funny
as hell.
What childhood toy from the 80s are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
You're a Garbage Pail Kid!! You're dirty, foul,
disgusting, and wrong. But you're still funny
as hell.
What childhood toy from the 80s are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
So one of the local radio stations, WIXO had a "nothin' but ninety's" weekend. I couldn't believe how good it was, for the most part. I loved it. I have truly become a sad old nostalgic geezer ("they just don't put music like this out anymore," I would sadly complain to anyone who would listen), and also a hypocrite for all the times I complained about "80's lunch-hour" on WBNQ and how no one ever wants to hear that music again, because probably there are some sad old nostalgic geezers exactly like me only about a decade older who just love it. Sadder still, I was unconciously having my own version of 90's weekend even before I found out about WIXO's because I was totally rocking out to Dookie (Greenday) & Sixteen Stone (Bush) on Friday.
Also, to continue the adoption/childbirth bit I mentioned in the last post, I have to say my brother in law creeped me out a bit today. He and my sis came to have dinner with us for Memorial day, and the conversation, as it inevitably does anymore, went straight to my sister being pregnant. And all of the sudden, he was all saying that women shouldn't get the epidural, because it makes the baby-havin' take so much longer and yada ya.... and he was like, really invested in the non-epidural arguement. Like he was the one going to have the kid. Hell, I kept saying stuff like, "If it were me, I would get drugged up to the eyeballs if that's what it took." and he seemed invested in ME not getting drugged up for this hypothetical child I will never have. Finally I was just like, "whatever, dude, you're right, I'm wrong, I don't really care." Which is what I generally say when I'm arguing with someone particularly determined to continue an arguement and I don't even give a shit about the topic anymore. Which, by the way, takes quite a bit of arguing, usually I'm the one people want to drop whatever topic I'm going on about, not vice versa.
Saw Shrek II yesterday, it was AWESOME. I especially enjoyed the return of the gingerbread man, who again has a small but hilarious role.
Also, to continue the adoption/childbirth bit I mentioned in the last post, I have to say my brother in law creeped me out a bit today. He and my sis came to have dinner with us for Memorial day, and the conversation, as it inevitably does anymore, went straight to my sister being pregnant. And all of the sudden, he was all saying that women shouldn't get the epidural, because it makes the baby-havin' take so much longer and yada ya.... and he was like, really invested in the non-epidural arguement. Like he was the one going to have the kid. Hell, I kept saying stuff like, "If it were me, I would get drugged up to the eyeballs if that's what it took." and he seemed invested in ME not getting drugged up for this hypothetical child I will never have. Finally I was just like, "whatever, dude, you're right, I'm wrong, I don't really care." Which is what I generally say when I'm arguing with someone particularly determined to continue an arguement and I don't even give a shit about the topic anymore. Which, by the way, takes quite a bit of arguing, usually I'm the one people want to drop whatever topic I'm going on about, not vice versa.
Saw Shrek II yesterday, it was AWESOME. I especially enjoyed the return of the gingerbread man, who again has a small but hilarious role.
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