So... tired....
So much... work to do....
Must... sleep...
I did get most of my Christmas shopping done, this weekend, in Seattle. There is, at least, that.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Monday, October 20, 2008
The tired quandary
Why do I have a fever? I thought I was better! I only took my temperature because I feel really warm-- and that should indicate a fever lowering, not rising, right? I don't even know.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Friday, August 15, 2008
The bad mood
Hypocrisy does not even come close to this. The Star Wars prequel trilogy is a bit hollow and slightly flat, but... dude....
My computer managed to eat my resume, so I'm really pithy.
This summer has been surprisingly hectic. That's one of those things about growing up; summer isn't any different than the other seasons, anymore. The sun shines a bit more, and there isn't school every day, but that's it. It's still life. I still have stuff to do and things to worry about and I am constantly behind on everything.
My computer managed to eat my resume, so I'm really pithy.
This summer has been surprisingly hectic. That's one of those things about growing up; summer isn't any different than the other seasons, anymore. The sun shines a bit more, and there isn't school every day, but that's it. It's still life. I still have stuff to do and things to worry about and I am constantly behind on everything.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
The musical nightmare
I had a really weird dream (since I was terrified for parts of it, it was probably more of the a nightmare) last night. I went to bed at ten, and kept falling asleep and then waking up a few hours later; it was during the last interval of sleep that I had the dream. I didn't dream at all, before that; the only way that I knew I had slept was because the clock would suddenly read two hours ahead of what it had a minute before.
The dream was guesome and insane-- part George Orwell, part Ayn Rand, part The Silver Chair... part hundreds of things.
I'm trying to write it all down, now, because its been more than an hour since I woke up, and I'm starting to forget details, but I want to remember this dream. I could almost turn it into a crazy sci-fi/fantasy miniseries, like Neverwhere.
During some of the dream I wasn't there, just observing, but for the most part I was myself. I was part of a group on this big compound in the middle of nowhere (I think that it was going to turn out that we were in the midwest of the USA, but I woke too soon). We all wore off-white jumpsuits and had no idea why we were there, but we had been born there (nearly all of us were clones) and it just seemed normal to us.
At the point in time where the dream began, I think that we prisoners (for lack of a better term) were all about 17 to 19, but that was just my group. Other groups were middle-aged, and later I met a toddler, so I'm guessing that each group was a different generation, which doesn't actually make sense, as we were all being killed when we came of age-- but I'll get to that in a minute.
Each group was named after a state, and each person in the group was assigned a letter in the state's name, despite the fact that it would have been way more logical for each group to have the same number of people. Maybe each group did, as this was a dream, and such things can be not-contradictions while dreaming. In any case, I was the last letter of "Washington State."
Everyone in my group was taken to a big official building, partially made of glass.
The hero, one of the other prisoners told me as we stood in line outside before being let in, had a better education than any of the other prisoners. He was self-taught, and he thought that he was doing the same thing that his father had done before him, but actually the hero was mistaken in this. I think that his father's "real" name was "Two ||" (parallel lines), but I'm not sure; in any case, the hero's late father had insisted to the authorities that he was "Two Cookie."
We were taken into a room and lined up, so I was last in line. The line went up some stairs, and at the top of the stairs was a platform with a woman on it who looked like Umbridge. She directed you to a metal chute and opened its grate, and you slid down it. At some point, we who were in the back of the line (not even on the stairs yet) realized that the contraption we were climbing onto and sliding into was, in fact, an incinerator. We weren't stupid, just naive and uneducated, and this was a dream, so things didn't quite make sense anyway.
Apparently we were in this compound to be raised and then burnt alive. The first people in our group (which was partially made-up of people in the real world whom I've gone to school with) had already died. I confronted Umbridge, who continued to send people down one-by-one as we talked. She had no sympathy, and I couldn't run away because there were guards everywhere. I was filled with more and more dread and terror as she went, because my turn was coming up. I started to say that it was better to go first, like if you were the R in "Rhode Island," and then I was at the top. The girl in front of me went, and then Umbridge sent me down. I said "goodbye," because I wanted that to be my last word, but I slid down really slowly, so then I called up to Umbridge that she should "remember what [she] did," by which I hoped to make her feel guilty when she was old, because I hadn't had time to think of a better plan to avenge and/or save us all.
The metal thing at the bottom of the chute opened, and it was too dark to see, and I fell down... and landed on hard earth. I was in this empty underground chamber. Alone. I walked further in, and came to an area with a few dim lights and metal doors, and some people milling around, almost unconscious. Then one of the doors opened and my friend Annie dragged me in. I was in a small sort of auditorium. It was really cold, which I couldn't actually feel (odd, as I can usually feel such things in my dreams), but I knew that it was cold because we were all covered in a thin frost, and some of the saved prisoners in the room were pulling on sky-blue SOTA sweatshirts.
Denzel Washington was standing on the stage in the room, and I knew instinctively, even though I'd never met him before, that he had been a mechanic who kept the incinerator in shape. As well as not really being Denzel Washington, the nameless man was also in charge, because he had saved us all. Not!Denzel explained that this morning, for no apparent reason, Ms Shepard (a very kind teacher in the real world, but the one who ran the incinerator in my dream) had packed up her incinerator and left. Which explained why I had landed in an empty room. I think that this was supposed to also indicate dissent into he ranks, and that our entire little society was about to revolt on every level, but no one went into this.
Not!Denzel sat us in a circle and answered our questions. I was sitting next to Annie, who found time to tell me about how her class at the local community college had just been reading 1984 and learning about foreshadowing. I asked Not!Denzel "how long this organization had been in operation," and he didn't really answer. Basically, what he said was that when it was founded, the compound hadn't just been about incinerating people. Possibly it was supposed to be a model utopia; I don't know.
Then some time had passed, because a small group of us had left the auditorium room and were trying to find a way out. The hero (a young guy who was nondescriptly handsome, and whom I'd not met yet, and at the same time had a long-standing sort of relationship with) decided that he had to go scout things out for us.
I observed the next part, though I wasn't there. The hero popped out of a manhole in the ground. It was nighttime, and he couldn't really see anything, except for a few ninja-guards, who had a name. It was something like "Nightwings," IIRC. The hero remembered that he had some see-in-the-dark magic goggles, so he put these on. With the goggles, he could see that there were way more Nightwings than he had thought-- a whole field of them. The goggles apparently let you see souls, not people, and the hero was able to see a bunch of buildings like thin back barns. These were the "souls" of the buildings where you were sent to be killed. The hero could also see three guys who were better-illuminated (for no apparent reason except that this was a dream) than anyone else. These were Seahawks-- another form of guard. They were men who slept standing up, with their arms outstretched like wings, so that "they could swoop in on you from above." We knew, even in the dream, that this wasn't possible, but it was still scary.
The hero came back down and our group walked for a while, and then we came to an elevator. There was another group of escaped prisoners on the other side of it, and we started to talk, but guards appeared. They wanted us to get into the elevator, and we tried to run away from them, but they got the other group and a few of us to go in. The elevator went down, and when it came up again and we looked through its glass walls, we could see that everyone inside was sitting at a desk (like a traditional classroom), staring straight ahead. One boy (who was a lot like Martin from The Simpsons) only had escaped being brainwashed, and he ran forward and threw open the doors to beg for our help. We were really freaked-out, though, so we left him and ran on.
Somehow, our group of survivors split up, and my smaller group ended up in these official tunnels. There were more people in them-- other compliant prisoners and some guards with a fake-maternal air, who were dressed like nurses. The "nurses" were guiding the prisoners, and we tried to look as if we were meant to be there, so that they wouldn't notice us. They did, and a nurse came up to our group of a few girls. She grabbed Jessica's arm, and sweetly reminded us that we should be in school. I noticed then that some of the doors leading off the corridor-tunnel that we were in were marked "School." These doors were double doors with windowpanes, and I could see ignorant prisoners beyond.
The nurse had Jessica, but the rest of us (Annie and me) left her and ran on. We were confronted by two more nurses, both holding big sticks of candy with long purple worms twined around them. With the nurses was Chelsea, who had a purple worm on her forehead. I realized that the worm would suck your mind, if it got on you. The nurses were trying to tempt Annie and me to take the candy, but we weren't fooled. One of the nurses grabbed Annie and tried to stick the candy in her face, so I grabbed the other nurse's candy stick and hit the first nurse with it. The second nurse jumped on my back, and we were in this big tussle....
The next thing I remember, a bigger group of us were in a different part of the tunnels, being menaced by former prisoners who had been burned. The were red, with red clothes draped over them and glowing red eyes. They hated us, and we feared them, and they were chasing us until we came to the woman in charge.
This woman was a witch, of course, but no longer Umbridge. Now she was part Mab from Merlin and part Lamia from Stardust (in any case, she looked a bit like Michelle Pfeiffer at this point, though later she looked more like Nicole Kidman).
There is a lot around this part of the dream that I can't remember. The witch had a servant who was a lot like Frick (except in love with Mab instead of Morgan). I think that there must have been a fight. The hero and I realized that we had magic powers: our hands could make water shoot at whoever was trying to hurt us. The incinerated prisoners had become a sort of fire-demon, but the water immobilized them.
The witch's sister (who was an even more evil witch-- things were a bit Narnia here) appeared, but we managed to set her on fire and escape. We had also set the other witch alight, but then drenched her with water.
I think that we prisoners wandered along through the cavernous tunnels for a few years here, like Aeneas, because I observed the witches over time. The second witch had told the first that she was horribly disfigured, and had her lying down, one ankle chained to a far wall. As it happened, though, the second witch had become a creature of fire, at once both burned and burning. The first witch, who was feeling much less evil at this point, was still a beautiful woman, wearing an emerald dress; her feet were continuously licked by cool green fire, and I realized that the second witch wanted the first to be completely burned-- both out of subconscious jealousy and because she had convinced herself that this was true beauty (it was an ethnic-cleansing thing).
The second witch told her sister that she "had found the antidote" to the first witch's ailment. The first witch was weak, but she didn't want to become like her sister, so she resisted. The second witch tried to force the first to drink out of the little bottle of antidote, but Frick pushed the second witch over and helped the first one up, and they began to run. Frick, of course, was in love with the first witch and thought that she was beautiful as she was, and didn't want her to be hurt. In any case, he managed to break the chain that the first witch was on, so that she only had a chain segment about twenty feet long hanging from her ankle. She was trying to run with this, but she kept dropping it (it was really heavy) and it would get stuck in things, like a big metal gate that they had to run through.
The first witch and Frick, and second witch and her fire-demon minions, and our group of suviviors (led by the hero) were all moving toward our goal of getting out of the underground world. When we were by the chutes again, the leader of a group of fire-demons (some of whom had been guards, some prisoners-- nearly everyone had been set on fire and burned half-to-death during our struggles underground) told us that we could have the underground world to ourselves, where we would be safe, but the hero replied that we wanted to live in the fresh air, too; we would take our chances above....
When we got up to the ground, suddenly the dream was a musical.
It was chaos. The fire-creatures were singing "come into the fire" and setting all the trees alight, and people from the compound were panicking and being burnt alive, running between the buildings. I was really pissed off, because I had just coaxed the trees to life (there were no plants, before). I used my powers to quench the burning trees, and I was singing angrily to the fire-demons that this would continue to happen, but that I would win and the trees would continue to grow. (Incidentally, the trees had crimson leaves.) I didn't really believe this, though; the hero and I was far outnumbered and I was starting to suspect that after a while the trees wouldn't want to come back to life, after I put out the fires on them.
Meanwhile, the witches were running around (the second one causing havoc as she went). When I turned around, watching them, I found a little boy (maybe three years old) standing before me. His hands had been chopped off (I don't know why or when) and the poor thing was naturally very bitter. He must also have been blind (from the fire?) and he complained to me (since the hero and I would obviously be the leaders once we established our New World Order) that he couldn't see. I realized that, as he had no hands, he also couldn't feel things or read braille. I couldn't think of anything else comforting, so I told him that he didn't really want to see the world so desolate, anyway. The boy naturally resented this, and he began to sing that "the world is beautiful," and the creatures were still singing "come into the fire"....
And then I woke up.
I know that there was more to the dream, but this is all that I can remember right now.
The dream was guesome and insane-- part George Orwell, part Ayn Rand, part The Silver Chair... part hundreds of things.
I'm trying to write it all down, now, because its been more than an hour since I woke up, and I'm starting to forget details, but I want to remember this dream. I could almost turn it into a crazy sci-fi/fantasy miniseries, like Neverwhere.
During some of the dream I wasn't there, just observing, but for the most part I was myself. I was part of a group on this big compound in the middle of nowhere (I think that it was going to turn out that we were in the midwest of the USA, but I woke too soon). We all wore off-white jumpsuits and had no idea why we were there, but we had been born there (nearly all of us were clones) and it just seemed normal to us.
At the point in time where the dream began, I think that we prisoners (for lack of a better term) were all about 17 to 19, but that was just my group. Other groups were middle-aged, and later I met a toddler, so I'm guessing that each group was a different generation, which doesn't actually make sense, as we were all being killed when we came of age-- but I'll get to that in a minute.
Each group was named after a state, and each person in the group was assigned a letter in the state's name, despite the fact that it would have been way more logical for each group to have the same number of people. Maybe each group did, as this was a dream, and such things can be not-contradictions while dreaming. In any case, I was the last letter of "Washington State."
Everyone in my group was taken to a big official building, partially made of glass.
The hero, one of the other prisoners told me as we stood in line outside before being let in, had a better education than any of the other prisoners. He was self-taught, and he thought that he was doing the same thing that his father had done before him, but actually the hero was mistaken in this. I think that his father's "real" name was "Two ||" (parallel lines), but I'm not sure; in any case, the hero's late father had insisted to the authorities that he was "Two Cookie."
We were taken into a room and lined up, so I was last in line. The line went up some stairs, and at the top of the stairs was a platform with a woman on it who looked like Umbridge. She directed you to a metal chute and opened its grate, and you slid down it. At some point, we who were in the back of the line (not even on the stairs yet) realized that the contraption we were climbing onto and sliding into was, in fact, an incinerator. We weren't stupid, just naive and uneducated, and this was a dream, so things didn't quite make sense anyway.
Apparently we were in this compound to be raised and then burnt alive. The first people in our group (which was partially made-up of people in the real world whom I've gone to school with) had already died. I confronted Umbridge, who continued to send people down one-by-one as we talked. She had no sympathy, and I couldn't run away because there were guards everywhere. I was filled with more and more dread and terror as she went, because my turn was coming up. I started to say that it was better to go first, like if you were the R in "Rhode Island," and then I was at the top. The girl in front of me went, and then Umbridge sent me down. I said "goodbye," because I wanted that to be my last word, but I slid down really slowly, so then I called up to Umbridge that she should "remember what [she] did," by which I hoped to make her feel guilty when she was old, because I hadn't had time to think of a better plan to avenge and/or save us all.
The metal thing at the bottom of the chute opened, and it was too dark to see, and I fell down... and landed on hard earth. I was in this empty underground chamber. Alone. I walked further in, and came to an area with a few dim lights and metal doors, and some people milling around, almost unconscious. Then one of the doors opened and my friend Annie dragged me in. I was in a small sort of auditorium. It was really cold, which I couldn't actually feel (odd, as I can usually feel such things in my dreams), but I knew that it was cold because we were all covered in a thin frost, and some of the saved prisoners in the room were pulling on sky-blue SOTA sweatshirts.
Denzel Washington was standing on the stage in the room, and I knew instinctively, even though I'd never met him before, that he had been a mechanic who kept the incinerator in shape. As well as not really being Denzel Washington, the nameless man was also in charge, because he had saved us all. Not!Denzel explained that this morning, for no apparent reason, Ms Shepard (a very kind teacher in the real world, but the one who ran the incinerator in my dream) had packed up her incinerator and left. Which explained why I had landed in an empty room. I think that this was supposed to also indicate dissent into he ranks, and that our entire little society was about to revolt on every level, but no one went into this.
Not!Denzel sat us in a circle and answered our questions. I was sitting next to Annie, who found time to tell me about how her class at the local community college had just been reading 1984 and learning about foreshadowing. I asked Not!Denzel "how long this organization had been in operation," and he didn't really answer. Basically, what he said was that when it was founded, the compound hadn't just been about incinerating people. Possibly it was supposed to be a model utopia; I don't know.
Then some time had passed, because a small group of us had left the auditorium room and were trying to find a way out. The hero (a young guy who was nondescriptly handsome, and whom I'd not met yet, and at the same time had a long-standing sort of relationship with) decided that he had to go scout things out for us.
I observed the next part, though I wasn't there. The hero popped out of a manhole in the ground. It was nighttime, and he couldn't really see anything, except for a few ninja-guards, who had a name. It was something like "Nightwings," IIRC. The hero remembered that he had some see-in-the-dark magic goggles, so he put these on. With the goggles, he could see that there were way more Nightwings than he had thought-- a whole field of them. The goggles apparently let you see souls, not people, and the hero was able to see a bunch of buildings like thin back barns. These were the "souls" of the buildings where you were sent to be killed. The hero could also see three guys who were better-illuminated (for no apparent reason except that this was a dream) than anyone else. These were Seahawks-- another form of guard. They were men who slept standing up, with their arms outstretched like wings, so that "they could swoop in on you from above." We knew, even in the dream, that this wasn't possible, but it was still scary.
The hero came back down and our group walked for a while, and then we came to an elevator. There was another group of escaped prisoners on the other side of it, and we started to talk, but guards appeared. They wanted us to get into the elevator, and we tried to run away from them, but they got the other group and a few of us to go in. The elevator went down, and when it came up again and we looked through its glass walls, we could see that everyone inside was sitting at a desk (like a traditional classroom), staring straight ahead. One boy (who was a lot like Martin from The Simpsons) only had escaped being brainwashed, and he ran forward and threw open the doors to beg for our help. We were really freaked-out, though, so we left him and ran on.
Somehow, our group of survivors split up, and my smaller group ended up in these official tunnels. There were more people in them-- other compliant prisoners and some guards with a fake-maternal air, who were dressed like nurses. The "nurses" were guiding the prisoners, and we tried to look as if we were meant to be there, so that they wouldn't notice us. They did, and a nurse came up to our group of a few girls. She grabbed Jessica's arm, and sweetly reminded us that we should be in school. I noticed then that some of the doors leading off the corridor-tunnel that we were in were marked "School." These doors were double doors with windowpanes, and I could see ignorant prisoners beyond.
The nurse had Jessica, but the rest of us (Annie and me) left her and ran on. We were confronted by two more nurses, both holding big sticks of candy with long purple worms twined around them. With the nurses was Chelsea, who had a purple worm on her forehead. I realized that the worm would suck your mind, if it got on you. The nurses were trying to tempt Annie and me to take the candy, but we weren't fooled. One of the nurses grabbed Annie and tried to stick the candy in her face, so I grabbed the other nurse's candy stick and hit the first nurse with it. The second nurse jumped on my back, and we were in this big tussle....
The next thing I remember, a bigger group of us were in a different part of the tunnels, being menaced by former prisoners who had been burned. The were red, with red clothes draped over them and glowing red eyes. They hated us, and we feared them, and they were chasing us until we came to the woman in charge.
This woman was a witch, of course, but no longer Umbridge. Now she was part Mab from Merlin and part Lamia from Stardust (in any case, she looked a bit like Michelle Pfeiffer at this point, though later she looked more like Nicole Kidman).
There is a lot around this part of the dream that I can't remember. The witch had a servant who was a lot like Frick (except in love with Mab instead of Morgan). I think that there must have been a fight. The hero and I realized that we had magic powers: our hands could make water shoot at whoever was trying to hurt us. The incinerated prisoners had become a sort of fire-demon, but the water immobilized them.
The witch's sister (who was an even more evil witch-- things were a bit Narnia here) appeared, but we managed to set her on fire and escape. We had also set the other witch alight, but then drenched her with water.
I think that we prisoners wandered along through the cavernous tunnels for a few years here, like Aeneas, because I observed the witches over time. The second witch had told the first that she was horribly disfigured, and had her lying down, one ankle chained to a far wall. As it happened, though, the second witch had become a creature of fire, at once both burned and burning. The first witch, who was feeling much less evil at this point, was still a beautiful woman, wearing an emerald dress; her feet were continuously licked by cool green fire, and I realized that the second witch wanted the first to be completely burned-- both out of subconscious jealousy and because she had convinced herself that this was true beauty (it was an ethnic-cleansing thing).
The second witch told her sister that she "had found the antidote" to the first witch's ailment. The first witch was weak, but she didn't want to become like her sister, so she resisted. The second witch tried to force the first to drink out of the little bottle of antidote, but Frick pushed the second witch over and helped the first one up, and they began to run. Frick, of course, was in love with the first witch and thought that she was beautiful as she was, and didn't want her to be hurt. In any case, he managed to break the chain that the first witch was on, so that she only had a chain segment about twenty feet long hanging from her ankle. She was trying to run with this, but she kept dropping it (it was really heavy) and it would get stuck in things, like a big metal gate that they had to run through.
The first witch and Frick, and second witch and her fire-demon minions, and our group of suviviors (led by the hero) were all moving toward our goal of getting out of the underground world. When we were by the chutes again, the leader of a group of fire-demons (some of whom had been guards, some prisoners-- nearly everyone had been set on fire and burned half-to-death during our struggles underground) told us that we could have the underground world to ourselves, where we would be safe, but the hero replied that we wanted to live in the fresh air, too; we would take our chances above....
When we got up to the ground, suddenly the dream was a musical.
It was chaos. The fire-creatures were singing "come into the fire" and setting all the trees alight, and people from the compound were panicking and being burnt alive, running between the buildings. I was really pissed off, because I had just coaxed the trees to life (there were no plants, before). I used my powers to quench the burning trees, and I was singing angrily to the fire-demons that this would continue to happen, but that I would win and the trees would continue to grow. (Incidentally, the trees had crimson leaves.) I didn't really believe this, though; the hero and I was far outnumbered and I was starting to suspect that after a while the trees wouldn't want to come back to life, after I put out the fires on them.
Meanwhile, the witches were running around (the second one causing havoc as she went). When I turned around, watching them, I found a little boy (maybe three years old) standing before me. His hands had been chopped off (I don't know why or when) and the poor thing was naturally very bitter. He must also have been blind (from the fire?) and he complained to me (since the hero and I would obviously be the leaders once we established our New World Order) that he couldn't see. I realized that, as he had no hands, he also couldn't feel things or read braille. I couldn't think of anything else comforting, so I told him that he didn't really want to see the world so desolate, anyway. The boy naturally resented this, and he began to sing that "the world is beautiful," and the creatures were still singing "come into the fire"....
And then I woke up.
I know that there was more to the dream, but this is all that I can remember right now.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Thursday, July 31, 2008
The odd Bond
The World is Not Enough is on TV right now. Sophie Marceau pwns just by existing, but the rest of the casting is a bit weird, IMHO. Pierce Bronson is way too pretty to be James Bond, and Denise Richards, as Dr Indiana Christmas Jones, is possible the poutiest "hotpantsologist" in the history of the world (term courtesy of Cleolinda Jones).
Even Judi Dench was like, "'Welcome to my nuclear family'? Hells no, bitch. I was with you when you tried to drown Hagrid in caviar, but this is too much. I'll just sit over here in this cage and swing a stick at a stool with a clock on it."
Even Judi Dench was like, "'Welcome to my nuclear family'? Hells no, bitch. I was with you when you tried to drown Hagrid in caviar, but this is too much. I'll just sit over here in this cage and swing a stick at a stool with a clock on it."
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
The blank title
Got the side-reading on Charlie's webcam, with his help, though obviously it wasn't very high quality, and there were still so many issues.
I need to find out what's wrong with the camera, but... there doesn't actually seem to be anything wrong with it. Or with the computer. Or with the firewire. But if you attach the camera to the computer with the firewire, nothing happens. The computer can't sense that the camera is there, so I can't import anything.
I need to find out what's wrong with the camera, but... there doesn't actually seem to be anything wrong with it. Or with the computer. Or with the firewire. But if you attach the camera to the computer with the firewire, nothing happens. The computer can't sense that the camera is there, so I can't import anything.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
The cannibalistic frosty
Some people don't like Girl Scouts. Maybe these people think that the cookies sold by these little uniformed girls are not sufficiently yummy to warrant the calories. Or that the cookies are too expensive and that not enough of the proceeds will actually go to the Girl Scout's troop, but rather to the cookie manufacturers. Or maybe these people are just confused by the fact that an organization-- once known for teaching girls to light fires when completely surrounded by trees and to tie geometrical knots-- is now known more for junk food fundraisers.
But, Dairy Queen, that is no excuse to cut little girls up and blend them with ice cream. I don't care if you serve mint cookies with it; this just doesn't sound good.
You see, my friends, I've just witnessed a DQ commercial advertising a Blizzard "with real pieces of Girl Scout and mint cookies!"
I drink your Girl Scouts.
PS: Still no luck with the digital camcorder
But, Dairy Queen, that is no excuse to cut little girls up and blend them with ice cream. I don't care if you serve mint cookies with it; this just doesn't sound good.
You see, my friends, I've just witnessed a DQ commercial advertising a Blizzard "with real pieces of Girl Scout and mint cookies!"
I drink your Girl Scouts.
PS: Still no luck with the digital camcorder
The firewire follies
Troubles abound with my video audition. There's something wrong (firewire, I think). I can't get the audition into the computer, and so I can't get it onto the web. Argh! More later.
For now, have some Doctor Who...
Ricky: We are going to take them down!
Micky: What, from your kitchen?
Ricky: You got a problem with that?
Micky: No, it's a good kitchen.
Feel better now? What? You mean that you weren't annoyed in the first place, because it's not your computer/camcorder/etc. that has the problem? *grumbles*
Edit, 1/2 hour later: Okay, scary thought: it could be the camera. I've now tried using two different firewires and two different computers. The only possible recourse that I have in order to get my audition in before the next millennium may be the use a webcam (my brother has one). That will look professional...
For now, have some Doctor Who...
Ricky: We are going to take them down!
Micky: What, from your kitchen?
Ricky: You got a problem with that?
Micky: No, it's a good kitchen.
Feel better now? What? You mean that you weren't annoyed in the first place, because it's not your computer/camcorder/etc. that has the problem? *grumbles*
Edit, 1/2 hour later: Okay, scary thought: it could be the camera. I've now tried using two different firewires and two different computers. The only possible recourse that I have in order to get my audition in before the next millennium may be the use a webcam (my brother has one). That will look professional...
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
The combined auditions
Lakewood Playhouse and Tacoma Little Theatre are holding combined auditions this month, from Thursday the 10th to Saturday the 12th. I'll need either a song and a monologue or two contrasting monologues. The only thing worse than an audition is an audition where one must sing (all right, things like the Holocaust were pretty damn bad, too, but you know that's not what I mean). I think that I'll go with a classical monologue and a modern one, then. If I really wanted to stretch myself, I'd do a song, but I just don't feel that I can. Maybe I'll sing at the next TPS General Unified auditions... I think they're in February.
Now I need to find some good monologues. I'll probably go with Shakespeare for the classical one, so I'll need something really obscure. Maybe from Cymbeline or Timon of Athens? One of the plays that you only read if you really love Shakespeare or have a really sadistic teacher. (I'm in the former-- I'd read all of Shakespeare's plays by the time that I hit my teens, which makes for great bragging rights.) The only Shakespeare play that I've ever studied in school was Romeo and Juliet. Stadium High had it as one of the major works Freshman studied. This spring, a boy shot himself. And now Stadium will never do Romeo and Juliet again. Because obviously it was an old play that convinced the student to kill himself. It's not like depression is a serious illness or anything; it was those damn books. Fortunately, Stadium hasn't ruled out most classic works of literature, or anything, banning stories that involve suicide. Only, you know, Anna Karenina, Thérèse Raquin, Hamlet, The Awakening, Madame Bovary, Macbeth, The Picture of Dorian Gray, Antony and Cleopatra, nearly anything from Ancient Greece.... Oh, wait...
I just hope Stadium doesn't do something crazy like assign Émile Durkheim.
Now I need to find some good monologues. I'll probably go with Shakespeare for the classical one, so I'll need something really obscure. Maybe from Cymbeline or Timon of Athens? One of the plays that you only read if you really love Shakespeare or have a really sadistic teacher. (I'm in the former-- I'd read all of Shakespeare's plays by the time that I hit my teens, which makes for great bragging rights.) The only Shakespeare play that I've ever studied in school was Romeo and Juliet. Stadium High had it as one of the major works Freshman studied. This spring, a boy shot himself. And now Stadium will never do Romeo and Juliet again. Because obviously it was an old play that convinced the student to kill himself. It's not like depression is a serious illness or anything; it was those damn books. Fortunately, Stadium hasn't ruled out most classic works of literature, or anything, banning stories that involve suicide. Only, you know, Anna Karenina, Thérèse Raquin, Hamlet, The Awakening, Madame Bovary, Macbeth, The Picture of Dorian Gray, Antony and Cleopatra, nearly anything from Ancient Greece.... Oh, wait...
I just hope Stadium doesn't do something crazy like assign Émile Durkheim.
Monday, June 30, 2008
The drive-in movie
We went to the drive-in on Saturday night-- it was a double feature of The Incredible Hulk and Get Smart, and it was so cool. I'd already seen Get Smart in cinemas, but it was still good.
Hulk was amazing. People have been raving about it, so I expected it to disappoint... but it didn't. I should probably rent Ang Lee's version at some time, though it got bad reviews. I don't think that Erik Bana could be as good a Hulk as Edward Norton. The thing about Norton is that he has a very gentle demeanor; Bruce Banner is such a believable mild-mannered professor sort that the contrast between Banner and Hulk is really impressive. The story really wouldn't work otherwise.
And radioactive Brazilian soda pop? How could a movie with that be bad?
The drive-in was a great place to geek-out. My brother, Charlie, and I argued as to whether Hellboy II counts as a comic book movie (I say it does), and then there was a trailer for The Dark Night. My mom began lamenting something about Viggo Mortensen-- I finally realized that she meant Aaron Eckhart, and that she thought Eckhart had taken over from the late Heath Ledger (*sob*).
Mom: It's that cleft in his chin. It's too distinctive.
Me: Huh?
Mom: He doesn't have it when he's the Joker.
Me: *confusion*
Mom: Only when he's not the Joker.
Me: But the Joker is always the Joker. Aaron Eckhart is Harvey Dent.... Two-Face? He's, like, the mayor? And then half of his face is burned and he becomes Two-Face? And after that he chooses whether he sides with the good guys or the bad guys by flipping a coin? You know? (*on screen, a quick flash of oil spilling across the ground towards a man lying there*) See! Just there! You missed it.
Mom: Uh... how do you even know this?
There were only trailers before the first feature (Hulk), and then there was an intermission. My mom and Charlie got out of the car, but I stayed there-- they played old commercials from when the drive-ins first got started. ("Sprite, with the refreshing taste of limon! That's lime and lemon.... From the Coca Cola company, of course!") Apparently popcorn really is nutritious.
When the intermission first started, I immediately had to talk about the movie. I'm like that. One of the best things about being at a drive-in movie was that I could also talk during the movie, and only Mom and Charlie could hear me, what with our sitting in the back of our car with the hatch up. I don't like to annoy strangers, but my family is used to me. And the fact that I have opinions about everything.
Me: Can you believe that? I was not expecting that!
Mom: They always give you a twenty minute break between movies.
Me: No, not that. The guy. At the very end? Stark? That was Iron Man!
Mom: Who?
I won't spoil any more of the cameo for you.
I tried to convince them that we should go to Iron Man later that Sunday (the movies ended at about 2:00 AM). No one wanted to go, though. Mom pointed out how expensive movies are, and Charlie just likes to sit at home all day on his computer. I'll try to get some friends together to go see it later this week, because I bet Iron Man won't be in theatres much longer.
Hulk was amazing. People have been raving about it, so I expected it to disappoint... but it didn't. I should probably rent Ang Lee's version at some time, though it got bad reviews. I don't think that Erik Bana could be as good a Hulk as Edward Norton. The thing about Norton is that he has a very gentle demeanor; Bruce Banner is such a believable mild-mannered professor sort that the contrast between Banner and Hulk is really impressive. The story really wouldn't work otherwise.
And radioactive Brazilian soda pop? How could a movie with that be bad?
The drive-in was a great place to geek-out. My brother, Charlie, and I argued as to whether Hellboy II counts as a comic book movie (I say it does), and then there was a trailer for The Dark Night. My mom began lamenting something about Viggo Mortensen-- I finally realized that she meant Aaron Eckhart, and that she thought Eckhart had taken over from the late Heath Ledger (*sob*).
Mom: It's that cleft in his chin. It's too distinctive.
Me: Huh?
Mom: He doesn't have it when he's the Joker.
Me: *confusion*
Mom: Only when he's not the Joker.
Me: But the Joker is always the Joker. Aaron Eckhart is Harvey Dent.... Two-Face? He's, like, the mayor? And then half of his face is burned and he becomes Two-Face? And after that he chooses whether he sides with the good guys or the bad guys by flipping a coin? You know? (*on screen, a quick flash of oil spilling across the ground towards a man lying there*) See! Just there! You missed it.
Mom: Uh... how do you even know this?
There were only trailers before the first feature (Hulk), and then there was an intermission. My mom and Charlie got out of the car, but I stayed there-- they played old commercials from when the drive-ins first got started. ("Sprite, with the refreshing taste of limon! That's lime and lemon.... From the Coca Cola company, of course!") Apparently popcorn really is nutritious.
When the intermission first started, I immediately had to talk about the movie. I'm like that. One of the best things about being at a drive-in movie was that I could also talk during the movie, and only Mom and Charlie could hear me, what with our sitting in the back of our car with the hatch up. I don't like to annoy strangers, but my family is used to me. And the fact that I have opinions about everything.
Me: Can you believe that? I was not expecting that!
Mom: They always give you a twenty minute break between movies.
Me: No, not that. The guy. At the very end? Stark? That was Iron Man!
Mom: Who?
I won't spoil any more of the cameo for you.
I tried to convince them that we should go to Iron Man later that Sunday (the movies ended at about 2:00 AM). No one wanted to go, though. Mom pointed out how expensive movies are, and Charlie just likes to sit at home all day on his computer. I'll try to get some friends together to go see it later this week, because I bet Iron Man won't be in theatres much longer.
Friday, June 27, 2008
The archaic entertainment
My mom, brother, and I are talking about going to a drive-in movie tomorrow night. I've never been to one-- there aren't really any drive-in theatres around; we're going up to Bremerton.
I'm not quite sure what to expect, what with my expectations coming from old movies in which the characters watched movies. There aren't any drive-in movie theatres nearby because they became as obsolete as the VCR (still working, but the new model is shinier), but I just read tonight (while finding a theatre) that they are coming back in vogue. It's weird how things come in and out of fashion, and how they can suddenly become cool, just because the right people (or enough people) like them.
I've always worn used clothes-- most of the clothes that I wear today are hand-me-downs from my mom that are slightly too big or else something that I bought at Goodwill. And then, suddenly... I wasn't wearing old clothes: I was being vintage. Value Village is cool. There are famous people now who don't want to wear new clothes that look retro; they want to wear clothes that look like new clothes that look retro, only they are actually old clothes that weren't too worn out to sell again.
People are awesome. Our species may be the only one to produce genocidal maniacs, but still...
Awesome.
I'm not quite sure what to expect, what with my expectations coming from old movies in which the characters watched movies. There aren't any drive-in movie theatres nearby because they became as obsolete as the VCR (still working, but the new model is shinier), but I just read tonight (while finding a theatre) that they are coming back in vogue. It's weird how things come in and out of fashion, and how they can suddenly become cool, just because the right people (or enough people) like them.
I've always worn used clothes-- most of the clothes that I wear today are hand-me-downs from my mom that are slightly too big or else something that I bought at Goodwill. And then, suddenly... I wasn't wearing old clothes: I was being vintage. Value Village is cool. There are famous people now who don't want to wear new clothes that look retro; they want to wear clothes that look like new clothes that look retro, only they are actually old clothes that weren't too worn out to sell again.
People are awesome. Our species may be the only one to produce genocidal maniacs, but still...
Awesome.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
The hammock days
When I was a kid and summer break first started, it seemed endless. What would I do for the whole month of July? The whole month of August? This summer is compartmentalized into weeks, and there aren't really that many of them. There are also no new Harry Potter books. This may sound impossibly geeky, but I sort of measured the summer around the new book-- the (many year) countdown until it was released, the release party that my friends and I got dressed up for, the marathon all-night read, the rest of the summer debating the series online. I miss the Shipping Wars.
I found this picture in my online collection. It's of my friend Caro and me; we've been friends since... well, since before this picture was taken. We appear to be on a camping trip. Are we in the Cascades, maybe? I honestly have no idea. Caro is the adorable one, while I'm the one who looks a bit like a vampire. Caro, for the record, was one of the friends who would get just as rigged up in a homemade Hogwarts uniform as I did.
I'm taking some classes at a local college, instead of finishing the ones that I missed when I was sick. Tomorrow's only my third day, but it's pretty interesting so far. Pre-Cal (or Math&141, because that's way less confusing) is my favorite class so far, and I am not a "math person." Funny.
There's not really that much to report right now. Hopefully I'll have an audition or two coming up soon. Remember, "Hell hath no fury like the vast robot armies of a woman scorned." (Yeah, I put that in because someone on Futurama just said it; it has no relation to the rest of the paragraph.)
I found this picture in my online collection. It's of my friend Caro and me; we've been friends since... well, since before this picture was taken. We appear to be on a camping trip. Are we in the Cascades, maybe? I honestly have no idea. Caro is the adorable one, while I'm the one who looks a bit like a vampire. Caro, for the record, was one of the friends who would get just as rigged up in a homemade Hogwarts uniform as I did.
I'm taking some classes at a local college, instead of finishing the ones that I missed when I was sick. Tomorrow's only my third day, but it's pretty interesting so far. Pre-Cal (or Math&141, because that's way less confusing) is my favorite class so far, and I am not a "math person." Funny.
There's not really that much to report right now. Hopefully I'll have an audition or two coming up soon. Remember, "Hell hath no fury like the vast robot armies of a woman scorned." (Yeah, I put that in because someone on Futurama just said it; it has no relation to the rest of the paragraph.)
Thursday, May 22, 2008
The hyperserotonemic one
I got serotonin syndrome a while ago, and am still not entirely well. I missed about a month of school, though, and therein lies the rub: we've got a week of school left. While everyone else rejoyces, I am seriously freaking out, because I need to get nearly a semester's worth of work in. And I have to find time to take the tests and quizzes that I missed (on subjects that I am, or course, still teaching myself from textbooks that are due back in). There is also a Chem lab that I was gone for, so I'm basically going to be staying after school all next week until they kick me out of the building. Which would be fine except that I have yet to make it past 2:00 PM without being so weak that I need to go home.
Fun stuff.
Fun stuff.
Monday, April 28, 2008
The splendid errors
Trolling Random House's website (shut up, I'm addicted to books), I came across the movie tie-in page for Atonement.
Directed by Joe Knight (Pride and Prejudice) and starring Keira Knightly, James MacAvoy and Brenda Blethyn.
Yes, that's right. They managed to get the director's name wrong (Joe Wright) and misspell the names of the two top-billed stars (Keira Knightley and James McAvoy). Awesome. It's almost as if I wrote it myself.
For the record, both the film and novel are wonderful, and I totally recommend them to everyone.
Directed by Joe Knight (Pride and Prejudice) and starring Keira Knightly, James MacAvoy and Brenda Blethyn.
Yes, that's right. They managed to get the director's name wrong (Joe Wright) and misspell the names of the two top-billed stars (Keira Knightley and James McAvoy). Awesome. It's almost as if I wrote it myself.
For the record, both the film and novel are wonderful, and I totally recommend them to everyone.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
The light show
There hasn't really been anything interesting to write about, but I felt that I should post something. Therefore, I bring you a picture that I took with my cell phone in Lighting Design... fun with gobos! These two were my favorites.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
The dizzy spell
I nearly fainted yesterday. It was sort of funny, when you come right down to it.
I gave blood, for the first time, yesterday. After assuring a nurse that I weighed enough (I should be flattered that I could be mistaken for being fewer than 110 lbs.) and answering question after question about my sexual history (non-existent) and travel history (nearly non-existent), I was allowed back to sit in a cross between Sweeny Todd's chair and a summer lounge chair. I asked that the blood be taken from my left arm, as I'm right handed, but the nurse was unable to find a suitable vein. She went over to my right arm... and couldn't find a vein either. After four nurses had poked at me and my arm had nearly gone numb from the cut-off blood flow, someone finally found a vein that, while not ideal, would do. I felt relieved, unlike most people being faced with huge hollow needles. I thought that I was going to be the only person at the blood drive rejected because they couldn't get my blood out.
I felt fine, after I'd given up my pint of blood. I wasn't allowed to leave until I drank some juice and ate a cookie, but eventually I got to class, feeling only slightly off; possibly it was a bad idea to jog up the stairs, but I was running late.
About two hours after I'd given blood, it was lunch time. I walked about two blocks through the violent rain until I had reached my destination, a bagel shop. I was feeling woozy, but I managed to get inside, pick out a drink (yay for Leninaide!), and get in line. The room was spinning, which is rather difficult to ignore.
I was standing with a young woman in line in front of me and an old man in line behind. I felt over-heated and as if my head was filled with mercury, sloshing around and pressing against my skull to get out. Halfway through ordering a sourdough bagel, I began swaying on my feet. I couldn't see what the people around me looked like, but I image that they were a bit freaked out. I'd already had to crouch down and trying to steady myself, which surely seemed a bit odd.
"I think I'm going to faint," I said as distinctly as I could, clutching the front of the counter. The woman behind the register was trying to give me my change, and I really couldn't give a damn. If I'd been able to articulate that well, I'd have told her to just keep the change, which only amounted to about $0.50. I wanted to alert the people around me, however, so that they wouldn't be alarmed when I suddenly collapsed.
Somehow, I managed to get the change in my bookbag and lurch towards a table. I sat down and laid my head on the tabletop. I was still feeling light-headed and horrible when my bagel was done being toasted and introduced to some cream cheese, but I managed to get to the counter and back again without falling over.
After a few minutes, I was stable enough to eat (I thought that food would probably help). It took me three quarters of an hour, but I managed to eat the whole bagel and steel myself to stand up again and walk back to class. It was, of course, still raining.
I did not faint, and feel much better today, but it was still a bit embarrassing. One can only be glad that here in America we are wary of all strangers. It would have been a far more mortifying experience if someone had tried to be kind and help the poor swaying teenage girl who seemed so unwell. To my good fortune, no one even asked if I felt okay. The girl behind the counter did uncap my Leninaide for me, which was sweet; I should have thanked her, but I was a bit out of it.
It was only later that I remembered that there are specific things that one should do when about to faint, like sit down and put one's head between one's legs.
I gave blood, for the first time, yesterday. After assuring a nurse that I weighed enough (I should be flattered that I could be mistaken for being fewer than 110 lbs.) and answering question after question about my sexual history (non-existent) and travel history (nearly non-existent), I was allowed back to sit in a cross between Sweeny Todd's chair and a summer lounge chair. I asked that the blood be taken from my left arm, as I'm right handed, but the nurse was unable to find a suitable vein. She went over to my right arm... and couldn't find a vein either. After four nurses had poked at me and my arm had nearly gone numb from the cut-off blood flow, someone finally found a vein that, while not ideal, would do. I felt relieved, unlike most people being faced with huge hollow needles. I thought that I was going to be the only person at the blood drive rejected because they couldn't get my blood out.
I felt fine, after I'd given up my pint of blood. I wasn't allowed to leave until I drank some juice and ate a cookie, but eventually I got to class, feeling only slightly off; possibly it was a bad idea to jog up the stairs, but I was running late.
About two hours after I'd given blood, it was lunch time. I walked about two blocks through the violent rain until I had reached my destination, a bagel shop. I was feeling woozy, but I managed to get inside, pick out a drink (yay for Leninaide!), and get in line. The room was spinning, which is rather difficult to ignore.
I was standing with a young woman in line in front of me and an old man in line behind. I felt over-heated and as if my head was filled with mercury, sloshing around and pressing against my skull to get out. Halfway through ordering a sourdough bagel, I began swaying on my feet. I couldn't see what the people around me looked like, but I image that they were a bit freaked out. I'd already had to crouch down and trying to steady myself, which surely seemed a bit odd.
"I think I'm going to faint," I said as distinctly as I could, clutching the front of the counter. The woman behind the register was trying to give me my change, and I really couldn't give a damn. If I'd been able to articulate that well, I'd have told her to just keep the change, which only amounted to about $0.50. I wanted to alert the people around me, however, so that they wouldn't be alarmed when I suddenly collapsed.
Somehow, I managed to get the change in my bookbag and lurch towards a table. I sat down and laid my head on the tabletop. I was still feeling light-headed and horrible when my bagel was done being toasted and introduced to some cream cheese, but I managed to get to the counter and back again without falling over.
After a few minutes, I was stable enough to eat (I thought that food would probably help). It took me three quarters of an hour, but I managed to eat the whole bagel and steel myself to stand up again and walk back to class. It was, of course, still raining.
I did not faint, and feel much better today, but it was still a bit embarrassing. One can only be glad that here in America we are wary of all strangers. It would have been a far more mortifying experience if someone had tried to be kind and help the poor swaying teenage girl who seemed so unwell. To my good fortune, no one even asked if I felt okay. The girl behind the counter did uncap my Leninaide for me, which was sweet; I should have thanked her, but I was a bit out of it.
It was only later that I remembered that there are specific things that one should do when about to faint, like sit down and put one's head between one's legs.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
The first review
The first review for The Geography Club has come in. They liked it (and realized that Galen is awesome), but sadly I am "one-dimensional and rushed." It's funny; I always thought that the saying about "as long as they spell your name right" meant that no publicity is bad publicity, which of course would be a ridiculous statement. Reading the review, though, I realized what it meant-- it's just so exciting to be mentioned that you really don't care if you're not being glowingly praised. Anyway, the reviewer seems to think that I might improve with age.
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