Signori e signore we have a HOUSE

Okay, so we went a little crazy and rented this 5 (really 4) bedroom house by the fairgrounds.


2, count 'em, 2 bathrooms! Plus library, big living room, appliance garage in the kitchen (note appliance garage at the corner of the counter and the awesome '50s decor)




But there's also some weird stuff, which might explain why it's so cheap:

Upstairs room, lots of light, dead bird in crawlspace ... What the? Oh wait, it's a bird made of wood. Wooden bird in crawlspace? What the?

And then there's this photo. This is our living room. In the top, center are (according to "Most Haunted") light anomalies. (The patchy blotch on the left is a patchy blotch left by the last tenants, so it doesn't count.)











There's another one in my bedroom. If you concentrate, you can see it in the right corner of the picture, just above the line where the ceiling starts.







Ghosts? whoa ... cool...

Nonrebel With a Cause

I'm starting to get really, really aggravated over the house situation. There is f-all going on in this town that doesn't already have 30 college kids arm-wrestling over it. We're reaching the point where I'm going to have to cry on the phone to the landlord and ask for another month and I'm tired of fecking crying on the phone to landlords! wahh wahhh please rent to us. wahh wahh she's just a small cat. I can't believe that it's harder to find a house in Eugene than it was to find an apartment in San Francisco. That's really weird to me.

In 20C Lit yesterday we started watching "Rebel Without a Cause" because it features the weakening of the American male after World War II (which, honestly, you can get from just about any Nicholas Ray film) and when Jim tells the cop and future Chief of C.O.N.T.R.O.L. that he "just wants to hit something" I thought ... yeah ... me too ... Although I suspect that if I tried to beat up a desk (or loaf of bread) my reaction would be the same as Jim's

only more so.

Pet(s) Okay?

Still no house yet. We have to wait until Tuesday for a final answer on the second house we looked at (the more expensive one ... payday is coming soon ...). The first one ... well ... we have to wait for 2 other people to say they don't want it or that the property management place doesn't want them. Maybe I'll call on Monday if I've got any confidence saved up.

Consulted a different psychic after getting crossed out by the one at Saturday Market. Most of the reading was about what I expected (I'm bored ... I should stay in school ... I need to eat healthier), but then there's this excellent paragraph:

I also see around you a white dog with black spots...not a dalmatian its smaller than that but a dog I can't quite pinpoint and I feel like this is a creature that came into your life by accident/surprise (or will soon) but he just grabs onto you and it feels like you are this animals confidante – it immediately trusts you and becomes your shadow.

Yes! Somehow I don't think Cat will be as excited about it...

G-A-N-K : Gank

Fecking students keep getting into houses before we do. We looked at a second one today and were told that a list of people had seen it ahead of us. These are places that only just opened for rent -- the one we looked at yesterday had only opened up YESTERDAY and we were already behind 2 other sets of renters in the approval process ("If they decide they don't want it, we'll give you a call.")

I offered to throw a wad of cash at the landlady in this second house. She seemed both shocked and excited all at the same time. I felt dirty.

The place is big and spacious, but apparently a herd of rhino just moved out. I'll still claw, beg and shell out $3200 for it though. Why?

Forced. Air. Gas. Heat.

fecking paradise in Eugene, man.

ABC - Always Be Closing

Aside from buying a new paper towel holder (why is that always necessary?), the worst part of moving is the dough you've got to fork out on move-in fees.

We're looking at a house today and if we like it here's what we have to come up with to seal the deal:
$925 1st month
$850 security
$300 pet (dude, she's just a cat)
$125 cleaning
$75 carpet
cha-ching: $2275 / 2 = $1137.50 ea

Which will, in short, empty my bank account. We get $200 ea back on this place, but I'm sure we'll need that to buy a new paper towel holder.

So, to my friends and family who have not received birthday presents or only received a card at Christmas, I want to say thank you for giving me a roof over my head. My lack of time management ("what? it's your birthday today??") with regard to birthdays/holidays/important occasions has made this move possible.

Vegas ... well, this leaves me about $34.50 for gambling in Vegas and lots of opportunities for hanging out at the pool. Allora...

the heave-ho

Landlord sent us a note today. He's selling the house in June and we have to be out by the end of May. The sweet pea I just planted is starting to shoot, my anemone has risen from the dead of winter and is showing signs of new growth, the daisies I put in last year have doubled and Golden Showers has 4 times as many roses on it than it had last year and the white fly hasn't come back to eat it yet! Cahhhhhhhhh we'll have to move the remains of the boonie, Sarafina, lovingly put to rest in the back yard.

It's daunting and painful, although I'm not as panicked now as I was at noon today. But, feck! I'm going to miss this place. It's wee and cold in the winter (cold right now in fact), but it's been home for almost 4 years and I've gotten used to it.


[So it goes.]

email of the day

Looking for /boorum & pease
Standard # 12 Record Ledger
500 pages.margin line.
Last ledger purchased in 1866.
now in need of 2nd volume.

psyche!

Saturday Market started today, which means fresh parsley in the tortilla rolls tonight (whoo hoo). And I finally worked up the nerve to put my name down on the waiting list for the psychic next to the sushi station (or is it the crepe place ... non lo so ... anyway). She looks like she knows her business and doesn't have "Affirmation Station" or angel voices advertised on her booth, so I figure she probably rates a little higher than the other ones. My time was 11:20. I get there at 11:10 and her customers from 11:00 leave, but there are some friends who have stopped by to chit-chat, so I wait, and some woman walks up and I think she's with the chit-chatters, but she's not because she stops at the list and picks up the pen ....... and then she sits down. And I wait a bit and psychic starts to flip her cards and she asks woman "remind me when your birthday is again" and it's a feckin' reading. So I check the list and my name has been crossed out (!).

Dude, if she's not psychic enough to know that I was muscled out then she clearly isn't psychic enough to tell me anything worth $20.

yin and yang

the english class is going to be okay, so far. we're watching movies and reading books and i can dig that, so everything was balancing out from the emergency on monday and then my cd rom is broken in my history book and i can't find the effing receipt to effing return it and half of the effing class is on that effing cd and i've emailed my gtf to see if i can burn his disc, but i feel like i'm asking him to rob a bank or something even though it's not like i didn't buy the book and want the material, i paid my money and the book is fecking defective, so it's not against the law but it feels like it's against the law and i was a dork in italian today, which is not unusual in and of itself because it happens lots of times, but it was glaring and idiotic and that doesn't go well with me and it makes minor irritations like this monumental and i cry like the little boy in "parenthood" ("MY RETAINER!").

so where's the good luck? some year of the pig. it's all gone downhill and pear-shaped so far.

cah ... i want some ice cream.

CRAP

Just now realized that the sign language class I'd registered for was ADVANCED sign language (the syllabus had information about interpreting myths on video -- what the?). There was a pre-requisite of CDS 169. Yeah. I haven't taken that class -- Why the hell didn't the system stop me?!?!?!? So I had to scramble to find something to fill the spot: 20c Lit ... we're reading The Bell Jar and Malamud ... and Hiroshima ... dear God. I'm going to need some Prozac.

I don't hate kids, I just don't respect them. It's not the same thing.

Okay, so I was totally irritated on Saturday. It can all be brought down to one obnoxious kid in Old Navy, but that's all it takes when you have low blood sugar. I came home, had some left over #20 Special from Vietnam, bitched about it in the blog, sang along with "No Sleep Till Brooklyn" and everything was suddenly all better.
And, yes, I was behind that one obnoxious kid in Old Navy. He shouted "MINE" at his mother throughout the store-- in the dressing room (where it was actually "NO" and "I WANT it!"), in the aisles, in the line to check out ... and his mother's response was always an inefficient "shh shh shh -- hey, [fill in sister's name] these are on sale." So, when I was waiting behind them in line to check out I gave him a look that showed how he was becoming the camel that broke the straw's back. He quickly shut up, but the bitter aftertaste clearly remained until I got home. Feckin' hell, why do I have to shut up other people's children?

Today is the first day of school. I did nothing of worth during Spring Break (except buy 4 tank tops at Old Navy -- they actually had the nice colors in size Medium for the first -- and probably last -- time ever) and now I'm going back into the books for another 10 weeks. Bene. Allora.

Baby Bust - or How Shopping Can Sometimes Suck

I'm tired of hearing about, listening to, being bombarded on the Internet, television and other media by, and the constant discussion of babies and children.

You with kids, you go and have your family and peace on the path. You teach your offspring all that you've learned and pass on your experiences. Fa bene. But stop telling me about it and for the love of God, stop trying to convince me that my life is somehow empty without a baby. This is directed less at people I know (because people I know don't generally do that) than at the media who keep pushing children at me left and right in commercials, on billboards, and every flippin' time I open up Yahoo.

This is why I love old movies. They feature adults doing adult things without the hindrance of perky moppets (apart from that kid in "Three On a Match" whose screeching cuteness is perfectly matched with Ann Dvorak's plunge into adultery, alcoholism and drug addiction -- all within the space of an hour!).

And those out there in the retail stores with your screaming, howling, drooling, animal children, if you don't speak to your beast about his or her lack of good behavior, I will speak to them, because I don't give a damn if you think I'm butting in on your parenting (or lack thereof) skills. Let's face it, if I have do it for you, then clearly, you must suck at it.

that is all.

Quarterly Report

3 months down, 9 to go. Not a bad year so far. Grades came in 2 A's and 2 B's, which is legit and better in some ways than expected, but it means that I rated a B- or C on my final project in J204 (went in with an A-). Whatever. I never have to take that class again, so I won't go on about how I WORKED MY ASS OFF on the project, because I'm bigger than that.

My Friday nights are free for sleeping now, instead of sitting in front of a flippin' Mac at school, and that's all that matters.

This time off is making me extra cranky about work though. 8 hours of people barking at me on the phone with stupid questions ("When am I getting my order?" It's scheduled for delivery today. "Can't I get it any faster than that?" or last week's favorite: "Do you have any Jamaicans working there?" what the f...?). T'ai Chi Man says I should keep the Dalai Lama in mind and consider these customers as people who are "helping me with my patience". I wonder how long the Dalai Lama would last in retail. You know that mommy-swap show? There needs to be (if there isn't already) a work-swap show. The D.L. and I can trade. Or the Pope. I've always wanted to be the Papal See. It would look good on business cards.

L'il Hateful
Papal See
Seeing the world for over 1,000 years

Breakin' 2: Electric Boogaloo

Spring break has started. As of this morning I have had a full 12 hours of sleep, I'm 3/4 of the way through Sartre's "Intimacy" and I've just finished a satisfying cup of coffee that was not brewed by a barista.

I predict boredom by 2 pm today.

The Ducks are now moving on -- I actually intended to watch the game last night. I thought I did very well last Sunday. I didn't get involved. I think I only barked once at the television and it was positive ("YEAH!"), so I thought I could handle it. Then I watched Vanderbilt/Georgetown and realized that I'm not ready. That a-hole was fecking traveling AND that was a g-damned foul at the end! WHERE THE HELL WAS OUR FREE THROW? The 'dores were robbed. I turned it off, focused on Sartre and went to bed. Now the Ducks are in the Elite 8 and I'm going to burst a blood vessel. I know it. If they get into the Final Four and have to play UNC ... ... I'm just going to have to leave the country or find a cave or turn into Tommy.

Here's what happened: The test was only half about grammar usage. The other half was defining and identifying grammar terms. 20 years ago in high school I would be able to tell you what a prepositional phrase is or a subordinate clause or any of that other junk. Now? Now I had to guess. But, honestly, is the editor of the Small Town Bee going to tell you to fix the spelling on that sentence and make it PUNCH out of the page? Or are they going to say "Can you change the gerund in the second independent clause to an intransitive verb?" Honestly.

I don't think I'm giving anything away on this blog. Those who actually get into the class will be told to study what I'm blogging about now. It's not like I'm putting down actual questions (although I can remember 2 of them and I'll sell them for $1 a piece).

I can take the test again, so now that I know what I'm up against I'm buying the book that goes with the grammar class (the class was full). By the way, the book is $78.25 and it's written by the professor of the class and it comes with a workbook, which means that there are no used ones, which ... hey ... wait a minute .......)

STUDENT EXPOSES TEXTBOOK SCAM

I didn't pass the grammar test.

Stop me, oh-ho-ho stop me. Stop me if you think you've heard this one befor-or-ore

Today I traded in 5 semesters worth of books. They gave me $123.00 for them.

Then I got rooked for $83 on my books for the next term.

My math is bad, but ...

And well-done Commodores! Sail on honey.
('n stuff)

Tear That Bracket A New One

Gee ... Duke lost. Gosh. I'm all choked up.

I was asked today how my bracket was doing and had to explain that it's like asking someone in AA what they think of vodka: Love it, but can't touch it.

Had to quit the NCAA for a time. After crying at the table at the Hard Rock Hotel & Casino, Las Vegas (while my friend Don was yelling at the television "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! YOU'RE THROWING IT AWAY!"), I decided it was time to stop watching the tournament. That was about 7 years ago, but even now when I catch a single play I get stressed out and emotional -- even if it's Old Dominion vs. Rutgers. "Come ON, Old D., what the hell kind of defense is that! You mother-f--kers! DO IT!"

It's not pretty. But it's okay to check the scores after the fact and dance on the dead giant's head when they DROP like a bag of dirt in the first round. (Okay, I know it was close, but still, DROPPED, yo.)

I'm in no mood to go to school today.

School is stupit. Want sleep.

And sun. Can the sun come out? pleeeeeeeeese.

I just answered this email:

"Our 11 month old just swallowed the
tip off the "accent" neon marker.
Is it poisonious? Should we call a
doctor?"

What the f...? What was your 11 month-old doing with a highlighter pen and how did he get the tip off it? And why are you emailing a retail company for advice on a Sunday? [EMAILING by the way - not calling, but email. What the hell?]

Makes me feel smarter tho'.

bring out your dead

It used to be that the word "cemetary" would make me sparkle with glee. It's not so much now, but the old flame still burns from time to time.

This came via a link from another link:
Russian Mafia Tombs

This one is my favorite:

epifanny

I've decided that journalism is just selling dope and lying to suckers. It's a career in RETAIL!

What a bunch of poo.

I'm switching to something useful like anthropology or biochemistry or medieval literature. Journalism is for a-holes.

I'm cranky.

Just a couple more things and then, I swear, I'll stop blogging today.

Montoya spins teammate, wins Busch Series race

Surprised? Anyone?

Boxer Burgos survives surgery but in coma after loss to Aussie

crap.

And to my friends, I apologize for wondering about Michael Buffer's skills in bed this weekend. That was one of those "Shite! Did that come out of my mouth?" moments. It was the beer talking.

Yo Lo Tango

During t'ai chi practice we sometimes get interrupted by people who want to use the room we're in. Since we're space-squatters we let people in, but most of the time they're working on karate or hip-hop dance or something that crowds us out.

Last Friday we had tango dancers.

It was kind of crazy at first to try and focus the chi while listening to Astor Piazzolla, but then it started to sink in and it turns out that Astor's really great for chi'ing ... I think so anyway. And maybe they think so in China. Based on what I've learned in Chinese Religions (aside from other, more important things) in Chinese parks they'll have t'ai chi in one corner and ballroom dancing in the other corner. Maybe they tango ... could be ...

These guys were really good too. I know, weird that two men were dancing a tango, but they would switch off leading. Did the back kicks and everything.

I think the instructor was my Uncle Bob.

8 8 I forget what 8 is for

No idea what to blog about. This is your brain on blog. I would like to throw a bone back to the dreamblog and add that I had a dream last night that Jack Nicholson was part of a group of zombies who invaded a small California town. They wanted me to open the safe in the office of the PTA (run by Jessica Lange -- what the?). Turns out zombies are afraid of fire. Go figure.

Finishing up school over the next 2 weeks for the big 1 week spring break whooooooooooo! which will be spent at work (whoo). I get to be in Claudia's Italian class next term and I can't get into Writing for the Media until I pass the grammar exam. I thinks; that'll not be, a problem, but I wish I could register for it now and have something to look forward to in the spring. Right now I've got the most frustrating Italian class ever, African American History (where my whitey ancestors will take a deserved beating -- my family came over on the boat loooonnnng after slavery. We brought you pasta, whiskey, step dancing and the notion of vendetta, so no blame on me, man) and the Evolving Earth, which I'm sure will be much more fun than Writing for the Media. "And then the volcanoes beneath the ocean surface zzzzzzzzzzzzz." I really wanted to take Monkeys & Apes, but I couldn't find it. Paleoprimatology sounds close ... or maybe it just sounds really cool. "What are you taking this term?" "The usual ... Italian, History, Paleoprimatology ... you know."

Blog & Order: CI (crisis of intent)

DUDE! they took The Little Match Girl off of YouTube, so now I can't even give mom something to cry over. And they only have a promo for West Bank Story instead of the whole thing. Freedom's just another word for they've got money they don't want to lose.

This Journalism thing isn't really working out. Maybe it is. I don't know. I've got that slacker "I don't want to friggin' work anymore" feeling and it's combining with the "I don't want to work at this to work at other stuff anymore" feeling. I'm busting my a for a C grade and it's really, really irritating me. According to my midterm progress the only thing I can do is write (hey zeus, I even get A's on my Italian essays), but they keep drumming it into us that that's not enough to "make it" out there. Crap. Maybe I'm just having a hard time with allergies or the fact that winter won't go away or because we watched The Rockford Files in class last week and I keep remembering how fun LA was, but knowing that the Jim Rockford LA is long gone and it's been replaced by the Paris Hilton/Lindsey Lohan LA ... I don't know. SAD

But Alan Arkin was my role-model when I was a kid (maybe still is, really) and it was good to see him get thrown a bone. Am I the only one that owns his book "The Lemming Condition"? Buy it. Everyone needs to buy it. And, yeah, it really is about lemmings. I keep it by the bed.

On the title, I'm totally sold on old re-runs of Law & Order: CI. I've only seen 2, sure, but they were a good 2. I'd have watched sooner if I'd known that Jonesy was in it. ("It was Paganini.")

I don't really like Burt Lancaster much. He had no upper lip and I always picture him in a swimsuit running through fields like a Bruce Webber photo.

And that disturbs me.

But he just uttered this fantastic line in "From Here to Eternity" and it's not the line so much as the delivery. Say it fast and clipped like Burt and you'll see what I mean.

"What makes you think I'd think a thing like that"

Brilliant.

shrovin' shrovin' shrovin'

Here begineth Lent. Although, due to the flu thing, I did not have a big hamburger yesterday like I usually do, and, actually, for lunch it was this vegan pad thai thing at school (which didn't sit well at first ... stomach rebellion at the lack of food rebellion maybe).

So for 40 days it's time to fast and give up something (um ... I give up passing J204 and casual sex) and confess. In the tradition of my first confession, which was in the glass-doored lobby of the church, I'm going to make this in the glass room of Blogger:

Bless me Blogger for I have sinned. It's been (1 ... 2 ... 3 ...) 28 years since my last confession. In that time I have --

• Frequently used the Lord's name in vain and had other gods (Owen Wilson, Kimi Raikkonen, Robert Louis Stevenson) before Thee. (So that's the first four right there, although I don't think I've made any images of them. I have images, but I didn't make them.)
• I keep the Sabbath Day holy ... for Formula 1 racing.
• I like my mother and father a lot, but I'm not sure if I honor them. I guess I do, so we're all good on that one.
• Haven't killed anyone ... that I'm aware of. If I did something, like if I cut off a guy on the freeway and then he went home and kicked his dog who ran away and bit a child who grew up with fear psychosis and turned into a serial killer ... where would that fit in?
  
• Adultery ... uh ... what are the technicalities? I might be guilty of a technicality.
  
• Jesus (oops! sorry...) I've stolen a lot of Branch's candy since I was a kid. I don't think it's enough to constitute grand theft though, so maybe I'm okay.
• I lie every day. That's a fair cop. But I work in retail, so it's a requirement. I don't think I should get a demerit for this.
  
• I don't covet my neighbor's house -- oh wait, there is that one house on the corner. They have art and everything. Okay, yeah, guilty.
  
• I'm not interested in my neighbor's wife so much, but I like their garden. But maybe that falls under "house."

Other than that I think I'm good with a few Hail Mary's and some sackcloth and ashes, wailing and gnashing of teeth. Happy Lent.

24

Bad news: Another C in another class. This time I deserved it. The 16 credit-term is no effing good, man.
Good news: I've weened the cat off Pop-Tarts. Might help save on the kitty dental bill.
Bad news: I caught some weird flu-thing either off of one of the bus folk or probably from one of my fellow studente.
Good news: That flu thing helped me fit into newly-washed jeans this morning.

eh ... cosi cosi.

What's in a Name?

So there was Ronald McDonald ... the Hamburglar ... Mayor McCheese ... Officer Big Mac (who was really a Mick) ... the Fry Guys -- these names all make some vague kind of sense.

What's the story on Grimace?

Does he make faces? What? Wikipedia's no help. He's described as a "well-meaning doofus" but not much on the name, except that it's a hold-over from when he was a bad character ("Evil Grimace"). Can't he get his name changed to Doofus and be done with it? Who's up for the petition?

Daoism InAction

Today I got a C on my magazine cover project in that class. This set-back is, in short, devastating.

Unlike Creative Writing where I figured out what the instructor wanted and then gave it to him, I have no effing idea what these people expect. They picked the topic (Formula 1 Racing) and then graded me down because they didn't understand the visuals I used. Why didn't I label Kimi Raikkonen's picture so people would know who he is? Why were the "d" and "p" looped together on the words "Grand Prix"? (They formed a track.) People who would read this imaginary magazine know who Kimi is. You, graduate student, are not my audience. You are not my target (as outlined specifically in my proposal and in the cover essay with the project -- twice I've explained that the magazine is for people already interested in racing). The answer: "But I might look at this in Borders and pick it up." Yeah, but you wouldn't buy it unless you were interested in Formula 1, which you clearly are not, and those interested in Formula 1 would know who the hell Kimi Raikkonen was. I might pick up a copy of Guns and Ammo ... doesn't mean I'd buy it.

Also, my cover line for the article on Danica Patrick was "Why this 'domestic appliance' is qualified to race in Formula 1." I was told that "domestic appliance" was pejorative. I said, I know. That was the point. The quote is from the President of Formula 1 and the article proves him wrong. She said that didn't come across on the cover. What?!? The sentence ends with "is qualified to race in Formula 1." Get it? She is qualified and is not a domestic appliance.

Summation: I'm doomed. Why am I working on a project that was chosen by someone else to be graded by them when they don't understand the topic of the project? What the f@%$#k is that? Why didn't she let me do the magazine on classic film?

So, I figure it's some kind of past-life retribution that I can't change. This is payment for some kind of serious injustice I pulled last time around and I've just got to roll with it. I just need to pass the class, not ace it. Who needs the Dean's List anyway?

Bring it in ... let it out again. Focus on the Dao...........

A Starbucks barista called me "ma'am" today.

Not for Nothin' But

Magazine writing is too serious at my school. I know, I'm off on that class again, but, feckin' hell, it just bothers me like few things do ... or like most things do ... but this sticks like ... like ... like ... it just sticks, okay? I don't want to write stories about racial tension at the university or depression or how the salmon are dying or any of the other "award winning" pieces of heaviness that generate talk among academics, but no one else really reads them. Honestly, who reads them? Honestly.

I'm starting to doubt my calling. Maybe it's time to switch to newspaper journalism and doing time on the Emerald writing complaints about the liberals.

Holy #*$%! I'm missing Chappelle! "I'm Rick James, bitch."

I haven't even brushed my teeth yet

This is the problem with having a full day off. I just don't feel like doing a g.d. thing. I finished my paper on Philip Marlowe, I can't work on the commemorative stamp for Journalism since the effer needs to be done on one of the Macs at school, and I just can't bring myself around to scriverendo nel mio diario della studenta l'esperianza (immaginativa) in Italia. Instead I've talked to mom on the phone, irritated the pet, and wandered around the house muttering crap about Daoism and the positive uses of chick flicks.

I can't tell if all of this is bad or good, needed or wasteful, yin or yang.

Argle bargle or foofarah?

Never Mind the Bloggocks

Thought I'd post, although I like seeing my grandmother looking swanky ... and it puts that catchy "Shanghai Lil" in my head. Days before I kept singing "Pettin' in the Park" so it's a nice change.

It's in my head again. I've been lookin' HIGH and I've been lookin' low ... lookin' for my Shanghai Lil.

Also in my head is the idea that some of my friends rank the Pope with the devil in his capacity for evil. I don't know why I was thinking of this, but I was ... maybe it was the presentation on Lazio that we had this week in Italian class, but it made me think of psychics who don't use their power to win the Lotto. You know, if the Pope is so powerful why have we only had 1 Catholic president and, sure, wasn't he shot while in office? Fahhhhhhhh I say. The Pope is no bigger than the Queen Mum in terms of political power.

Which made me think of the Queen Mum, which made me think of "Taggart" (apparently it was her favorite show), which made me think of the TV detectives class where I need to somehow namedrop characters from "77 Sunset Strip" (Stu ... Kookie) and "Hawaiian Eye" (Cricket and ... who was that other guy? ... that Robert Conrad guy ... right the "local" Tom Lopaka ... thanks IMDB) into my paper about Philip Marlowe. Which made me think of how that weird TV channel the American Life Network or whatever it's called which has "Harry O" and "Perry Mason" has 2 - count 'em, 2! - Robert Conrad shows on it ("Hawaiian Eye" and "Wild Wild West") and why don't they just sign on "Blacksheep Squadron" and get it done with? Maybe because the Pope isn't powerful enough to change programming and the American So-Called Life Network.

Q.E.D.

Isn't caffeine GREAT?

Lookin' for my Shanghai Lil....

Gramma? Is that you???

I can't believe it ... 5 am has become the best part of my day. That ain't right.

I've been thinking of renaming this blog, since it's turning into a running bitch session about that one Journalism class. What about: "How many weeks left to the term?" or "Me + Hate + Fear = J204". This is way worse than Info Hell.

Our first project is due today and I feel like crying. You know on Halloween and it's the 5th grade when you're fully socialized, but you're double-digit age so the pressure that will be 6th grade is already coming on, but you're still in the last year of play-school so you want to have fun, but you don't want to be a loser? You know that feeling? So it's Halloween and you dress up for school and the entire way there, walking with your brother whose class didn't dress up, you're sure that you're going to be the only person in a costume.

And that feeling haunts you every time you have to dress up for a social function.

This project is like that. I know that there are fellow students out there that have thrown this thing together, because they started on Tuesday and had no idea what they were doing. Their projects probably look cheated and half-ass. They may even be in the Mac lab now trying to fix them before class. On the other hand, I feel like I'm forgetting something (primarily: that we needed 2 copies of it to turn in, or that we needed to fill out some form somewhere to go with it that explains our type style use or something) and, as far behind as the others are, they will all have done that forgotten something.

(And I'll be standing there dressed as a gypsy and it's only October 29th.)

Okay, so maybe this a lesson to kids about the "real world" where clients, bosses, etc... don't always give you all the information you need to complete the project. Okay, I concede that point, but in the "real world" you can re-work the project to the client's/boss's, etc... liking. Here we turn it in and it's graded and there's no fixing. Bogus.

mmmmm crow

I didn't intend to post again about the InDesign class, but...

When signing up for this class we were barked at about the following:
- be there or miss out (which I've blogged about already).
- be there on time and if you're in one of the 8am classes, don't party the night before, because the information is intensive. It's 4 hours to learn detailed design software.
- eat before you come, because the class is 4 hours long.
- make sure you can log in to the system by logging in to one of the other computers in the lab BEFORE you take the class. The IT guys don't work on Saturday and if there are any problems you need to know before you show up.

Yesterday I heard the following student remarks, one after the other:
"Dude, I'm so tired." "I know. I'm totally starving."

and, my favorite, which caused real student tears and almost made me sad, but not quite:
- I can't log in.
- Did you go to the lab to log in before this class?
- No.
- Then you can't take this class today. You won't be able to open the programs.
- But!
- I can't help you. You were told to log in 2 weeks ago.
- I know, but!

Conclusion: students really are as stupid as the professors think they are.

Quote of the Week

The class was TV Sleuths (man, I love that class) and the topic was "Why have police?" as in what prompted the government/people/Man to set up a formal police force.

Answer: "Because God is dead."

Side Note: If you have Turner Classic Movies, watch "In Caliente" tonight. I swear my grandmother's in it. This is based on a 5 second clip from a Busby Berkeley documentary, but the movie's not on video/DVD, so there's no way to prove it ... until now.

Side Note to the Side Note: I dreamt last night that I was watching television with my grandmother. We were watching a series of deleted scenes from "8 1/2" while my grandfather talked to Jean Renoir about what clothes to wear to church. Best dream in a long time.

Okay, I'm not quite over it. Here's the punchline to Saturday's rant:
(from class today -- this is with reference to the InDesign classes over the weekend:)
"Some of you who signed up for Sunday didn't show up to class. I took roll, so I know who you are. You can't sign up again. If I see your name on the list for next weekend, you will be bumped for someone who missed class on Saturday. I didn't get an email from anyone. Did you get an email Dr. X?" "I didn't get any emails." "We didn't get any emails."

Yeah. Hey, by the way we didn't get an email either.

all done.

I'm over it now. The online overview of InDesign is pretty helpful -- it's not telling me how to use the thing, but it's got a run-through of a lot of the great functions. I had no idea Adobe was responsible for PageMaker. Dude, I used that 15 years ago. Nice to know it's still around and can upgrade into CS2.

Flip. It snowed again. Better put on the long underwear. In some ways this weather's great, because the houses all look like they have frosting on them, but standing at the bus stop waiting to go to school kinda blows. But ... it is so pretty and when it comes down in those Hollywood flakes and it's so quiet ... yeah ... that's nice. And it's like having seasons. Sure, it killed the anemone, but there will be others. Maybe I'll try again to swipe the seeds of our neighbor's Iceland poppy.

R.I.P. 2003 - 2007

My Big Fat Ugly Rant

Today I was supposed to take a class on InDesign. This is for the Visual Communications class. The class where we're all idiots, blow-its and full of "young ideas." Twice we were told that it was our responsibility to show up to the InDesign class and to be on time. If we did not make it to the class we could not make arrangements to take it again. This was it. Be there and be on time or else.

Fine.

I get there today and there's a sign on the door: "InDesign class cancelled due to family emergency."

It's Saturday. This is my only day off, so this class was something I set aside my limited personal time for. It's been hovering around 25-30 degrees all day. Buses don't run to the University on Saturday. I live across town.

Now, I understand that family emergencies come up. There's nothing you can do about them. You've got to take care of it. But, ya know, an email this morning or last night would have been considerate. Maybe then I wouldn't have put on 4 layers of clothing to go out and walk through ice to get to a locked door. Not only that, but if I went to professor and said that I couldn't make it to the class due to a family emergency, what do you think? Think I'd get a tutorial on how to use InDesign on another day that was convenient for me? Hardly.

Bitter. Isn't. Pretty.

And I have a cold now. I'll get really sick. That'll show 'em. yeahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

First Week Roundup

It's only Thursday, so maybe this is bad luck ... maybe not.

Italian -- ma dai! I love this instructor and it's getting easier to participate in class. That said, the fall is bound to come soon ... like when I take the first oral exam and sit there trying to remember the word for "go" ... but for now it's fun fun.

Chinese Religions -- Rules About Taking Classes From People You Know. Rule #1: Don't take classes from people you know. I met Dr. Cline at a New Year's Eve party and now not only does it seem weird to address her as Dr. Cline instead of Erin, but when she calls roll I have this strong inclination to answer "Hey! How are you?" instead of "Here." Class-wise, it's going to be really interesting. This tortoise-shell/bone divination stuff is cool. I've got to find a volunteer tortoise and a burning stick.

Journalism/Visual Communication -- I just don't know ... it's a required class for the major, but the professor is one of these superior types who talks down to the class and assumes that all of the students are party-ers and morons. Dude, that's my job. Anyway, we get to learn Photoshop and InDesign, so it's not all bad.

English 399/Television Sleuths -- It really is a class, yes. I'm doing my final project on "Taggart" for those who want to know. The professor is great fun, but the class is especially worthwhile for people-mocking. There are the dudes, who say their favorite detective is Inspector Gadget ("heh, yeah, dude!") or Chip and Dale Rescue Rangers ("ho, TOtally, dude. yeah.") and on the other end of the spectrum are the two Philosophy/English majors who despise television. My favorite is the one who claimed that she hadn't watched television since she was 12 and then later made the bold, shocking statement that sitcoms were really programming meant to conform the masses into predisposed ideals of sociological norms (I'm paraphrasing, of course). Why the f@*&! are you in this class? Is it to confirm your superior status above the brain-washed pedestrians who watch this stuff? Or are you so insecure about your intelligence that you've got to validate yourself with pretentious blow-hole posturing that will show us all how really superior you are?

I'm glad someone else has taken on the posturing job. I was getting tired of it.

Puzzle Place

This was on my Journalism professor's office door. You may post your answers in comments.

How many headlines can you make from the following words:

1. Boy
2. Mother
3. Weds
4. Alligator
5. Raised by Apes

(You have to use all the words, but I don't think it's fair to be limited by them: Mother of Boy Raised by Apes Weds Alligator)

It Rubs Off

This is a bad man.

At least according to maxboxing.com's headline:
Jim Lampley Arrested for Domestic Violence

You hang around with Mayweather long enough ...

According to the accuser (a former Miss California ... yeah, with Lampley ... go figure) he was drunk and "also high on pot" (!!)

I can't wait to see follow-up stories featuring Lampley takin' it out on Larry Merchant or Emmanuel Stewart. The next time Stewart uses "himself" incorrectly Lampley's going to reach over and paste him one. Merchant's kind of a sucker target. He's usually so lit up on gin that he'd be a one punch k-o.

Gosh ... Has watching boxing made me a violent person? Makin' bets on who will get hit next? Look at Lampley. He's a smiling, upstanding guy. They even let him sit in the lodge and boss the Olympics. If he can turn ugly anyone can, even me!

Of course ... this kind of behavior may have been in him all along. We did see him spit over the rail at the Rose Garden in Portland. Bad, bad, bad.

No mugshot yet at www.thesmokinggun.com.

RNR with PBNJ

All this week I've been trying to decide if it's harder to work from 6am - 5pm or to work from 6am - 11am and then go to school from 12pm - 5pm. It's the same amount of time spent out of the bed or off the couch, but the work is all in one place and school is going from place to place to place to place.

This being the last day of my vacation (which means the last of the 10 - 11 hr work days -- thanks cold and flu season!), I've come to the conclusion that work is harder. At least at school I can go outside and sometimes there's even time for a pop-in to Starbucks. At school people don't constantly bitch at me and call me a liar ... as much ... At work I get paid, but that's all it's got going for it, really. If they paid me to go to school it would be totally ideal.

But when I think things have been tough for me, I remember that tomorrow is the return of the cousin/roommate from Hawaii.

Current Honolulu temperature: 74, feels like 74.
Current Eugene temperature: 37, feels like 29.

That's got to suck.

Back to my sammich. Peanut butter is a good, good thing.

P.S. what the ...? The brother's supporting my man, Obama? Is this a sign of the apocalypse? Welcome to our side, brother mine.

Customer Comment of the Week

(from a return request)
"I wanted a refillable duster, not a duster that needed to be refilled."

Scrapin' it into a pile for 2007

Looking over last year's weak resolutions, I've decided that it's pretty useless to form any for 2007. I considered doing a Best/Worst list too, but the Best all had elements of Worst and vice-versa, which left everything in a kind of mediocre-ness that is (in short) mediocre. So I am choosing instead to sum up 2006 thus:

Your Honor, my learn'ed colleagues, members of the jury, ladies and gentlemen, this year has seen levels of normalcy unsurpassed in years previous (at least those that the defense can call to mind at this moment). There were weddings, births, birthdays at the 40 level, and countless airline flights, and yet, as we close the proceedings on 2006, it would appear that very little change has actually occurred in the day-to-day existence of the defendant. I would like specifically to call your attention to the following topics: friends, school, health and, finally, finances.

We'll begin with friends. During 2006 one Kelly Feinberg (nee Cockburn) was married in the backyard of a lovely house in Fort Collins, Co.

[Exhibit A] This event is significant not only because she is a close friend and one who has waited a long time for this moment, but also because the defendant was one of the only single people attending. It is also significant because it was where the defendant met a doctor named "Peter" who subsequently vanished when they parted ways at the bar. Was it the double vodka? Or the absurdly heavy eye makeup that shows up looking like tar in the wedding photos? Who can say...

I submit also one Sheryl Montgomery and her baby, Mia, of whom there are no online photos because the defendant forgot the camera last July and all we have are the flippin hard copies and no flippin scanner. But I digress. There are also the virtual friends, whom the defendant has not met, but who have been monitored in an unobtrusive (we hope) fashion. I speak of the Haskes, who have also had a baby - Huckleberry - this year, and online photos as well as video are available through their blog. Here also is Jack, the defendant's second cousin. The photo (featuring the defendant's mother) explains it all. Don't you want to pat his cheeks?
[Exhibit B]

I submit that these events, while significant in their own right, have had no direct effect on the life of the defendant, apart from the moments of pleasure at viewing photos, squeezing cheeks, burping and swinging the child(ren) to sleep, etc...

School. Apart from a couple of B grades in Italian, life on the University level is starting to agree with the defendant. She had to ignore everyone for 10 weeks while working on the 20-page, 35-source Information Gathering project, but it's hoped that the grade of A+ will explain the distances and help mend bridges. The defense would like to submit (while we back-pat ourselves) that a passing grade in that class is a D and some people have to take it a second time to pass. The defense thanks you for your indulgence.

Health came in the discovery that acupuncture really works (ladies and gentlemen, 30 million Chinese people can't be wrong) and is much cheaper and less of a hassle than Workman's Comp and disability for carpal tunnel. Acupuncture, however is not covered by insurance because insurance can't make a buck off of it. Another set-back for ancient wisdom.

Finally, finances, which are at a low thanks to an unnamed uninsured motorist and some unfortunate investing at the Pala Hotel and Casino last July. That's why you all got a card full of air for Christmas. Next year (this is not a resolution) Next year the defendant will double her paycheck at Pala, and Christmas will include hot tubs, trips to the Grand Prix of Monaco, fancy bicycles and whatever else the defendant can indulge you all with.

You'll see. You'll all see.

(predictions are for entertainment purposes only)

Work + Holidays = Hangover

What I've done instead of the stuff that needs doing ...:
- won booze at 2 Christmas parties on 2 consecutive nights
- saw the new Bond picture and it's gooooooooooooood
- slept. a lot.

Daniel Craig is the new best Bond. Go ahead, crack me one, but he's even better than Connery. Now, I'm not saying he's better looking than Sean, by any stretch. But in terms of being the book-Bond, he's spot on.

Unrelated, but worthy of note: Next weekend is my grandmother's memorial service. She was a game gal, that gramma. I don't have any of her pictures from her chorus girl days (because she supposedly tore them all up, although I saw one once at my Great Uncle Paul's house) so I can't post one that features her, but I think one of the joys she had of being in a Busby Berkeley chorus was the anonymity mixed with the glamour.

She could be any of the dancers in this photo (or none of them), and I have a feeling that that's the way she liked it. Fancy dress, big show job, and no one ever has to know you were once a part of it ... unless you have grandchildren who needle you constantly for stories about it ...

Final Final

One more final and then I promise to:
- call people
- sort out ideas for Christmas cards (and maybe follow through and send them)
- sort out Christmas
- do laundry
- stop talking about the use of outdoor settings in F.W. Murnau's Nosferatu (1922)
- de-worm the pet

or is that too much?

Parla come devi...

Si amo. This has just topped Ok Go on my online video clip obsession list:



(if it doesn't play - because I don't think it's embedding right on the blog ... this is my third try at it - you can get it by clicking on "This")

The Happiest Place - Part 2 "What's That?"

(I could study for finals, but ...)

This is my niece, Francesca. She's great, but she doesn't really know who I am. Her favorite question: "Grandma, what's that?" Meaning what's me, meaning who's me. Her second favorite question was "Name?" By the end of the second day we were all sorted out. Of course by the end of the second day we were all going home.

This is one of the main reasons I distrust Disneyland:
Terror in Toon Town.


There are mountains in Orange County. They're back there somewhere, but where? Those green things aren't real! And is that the sky? It's so hard to tell! Where am I? Oh Godddddddddd.


For Thanksgiving there was a choice of pretzel & beer (mmmmm) or large corndog, then, to finish it off there was Disney pot roast or Disney turkey. I had the pot roast, which couldn't touch J's recipe, except that the brown gravy was good in a brown gravy way (but you can't really screw up brown gravy). But I digress, I had the pot roast, which, though technically non-trad., sat better in the belly than the turkey, based on after-dinner reviews from the parents.

Here are the parents, by the way.

I take after mom ... no pop ... no more like mom ... or maybe more like pop ...

To round out the trip, cousin/roommate and I were rear-ended on the way back from the Eugene Airport.

me vs. other car ... winner?

The Happiest Place - Part the First

So many lovely photos, but no time to download. They are coming soon, since I up and coil-bound my journalism project yesterday. Now I just have to study for my other classes (... heh ... forgot I had other classes n' stuff).

In the meantime, I will say that for all of Disneyland's shortcomings (lack of evidence that real animal life exists in Orange County, the people, the way beer tastes at California Adventures, the people, the constant references to "cast members" and "guests", the people...) I always see the best t-shirts there. I usually end up getting one for my brother for Christmas. Since this one is not available on Amazon, and is therefore unavailable as a Christmas present (so far), I can post it here.

Not a very clear picture ... but you get the gist of it.

Next post: real pictures of actual things. Honest. I swear.

WHOOOOOOO HOOOOOOOO

I'm done, dear God, all done.

Kind of.

I'm done with the first draft of the Great Project and I feel free. Although I had to take a 20 minute break from the computer before starting the blog (this involved flipping the television stations between "Revenge of the Nerds" and "Black Orpheus"). Honestly, I have no idea what happened over the past two weeks. I remember only waking up, working on the project, going to work, coming home, working on the project, going to school, coming home, working on the project, going to bed. That's been it. No "Lost". No blog. No contact with the outside really. Tomorrow I will print 116 pages out at work and pack it into a bag for editing as I fly to California.

Information Gathering is a tough class, tell you what. It alternately makes me want to give up on Journalism and keep going -- honestly, you finish the hardest class, it's all downhill right? And I've seen what people use for research at Us. Nothing takes 35 sources in the real world of entertainment journalism. You ask two friends what La Jolie did last week and job is done.

One thing I do remember from a couple of weeks ago was a fight that was an undercard to the Mayweather/Baldomir fight. It was Paul Williams (loved him in "The Muppet Movie") against this guy named Santos Pakau. Williams beat him pretty easily, but Pakau had the better walkout song: "Golden Brown" by the Stranglers. Maybe no one told him it was about heroin.

I think it was Pakau ... that was 2 weeks ago, so I can't be sure.

(Just heard on Fox Movie Channel was this gem from Borat: "A woman journalist is like giving a monkey a gun".)

if it walks like a nerd and talks like a nerd ...

"You are most like Hermione Granger!"

well duh.

I'm also like Wesley Crusher, which I think is a little unfair and also a tad uncool.

Personality tests ... This is what happens when you finish homework. The attention goes right into crap'net.

had to add this -- customer of the day:

"I see that you have free shipping for orders over $49.00."
- That's true, we do, yes.
"My order's only $39. Do I still get free shipping?"

That would be no.

It's probably going to be some time before I'm free to post. Information Gathering has been historically known as the toughest journalism course at the university. Scoff and derisive laughter. I thought it was a total breeze.

At first.
It's not anymore.

It's not a hard class in terms of the work, but it takes more time than I have available. It's almost 8 and I have to rush to work so I can come home and get a few more hours done on the project before ... on and on and on. Although I'll more than likely end up doing school work at work.

Don't be surprised if this sits idle until after Thanksgiving. Not gone for good, just gone for a day or two or twenty.

That said --- did they really kill Mr. Eko? I don't feel so bad about missing Lost or never watching it again. Ever. Fahhhhhhh why can't they kill Charlie? What's he done for us lately? $5 says they kill Desmond next.

Is it magic ... or...?

Is it Halloween?

(If those are ghost cookies, it must be Halloween.)

This year was a literary theme.

Ladies and Gentlemen ... before your very eyes, two (somewhat) normal people will become ...two somewhat abnormal people.

Later on I ditched Raoul and was hanging out with Nancy Drew.
(Note the dainty pinky on the machette.)

"Hey, Boo."
I figure that 'ol Boo, bein' that he was child-like in the mind and all, was a good match for Scout, seein' as how they was both drankin' and shouldna' been, but it's okay 'cuz they's from the South.

This year's winner is not literary, but ... well ... see and judge for yourself. Even trying to explain makes me have to pee my pants because I'm laughing so hard.
All the way from Hawaii, I present the cousin/roommate's parents as Dog, the Bounty Hunter, and his lovely wife, Beth:

one more

I just overheard this from the t.v. in the living room and remembered how great it was.

"You were ice cream for freaks!"

That's the best movie line ever.
Ever.

blogging not working out time-wise. been staying up staring at court cases involving dui's and dead people and it's making me sleepy, irritable and is a total fecking drag-bummer. and it's midterm week (the only one i have is in film, but still ... who is dixon and where does he fit in? everything before the studio system is a technical blur). must save energy for "lost" watching.

coming soon:
the L'il Hateful Halloween Spectacular (oh boy!)

My Best 'Feined

It started with Deep Fry's confession and was compounded by a discussion at work about why we get headaches on the weekends. I decided that I'm quitting caffeine.

Okay, not entirely. Like smoking, the plan is to continue with it socially. I'll be a social caffeine drinker. I already feel brighter and lucid and the withdrawal syndrome really only carried through until Tuesday. After that everything was really great. I wasn't half as irritable as I usually am and I was getting a lot of stuff done.

One week later: Saturday. I slept in late and woke up without a headache. Bene. I don't need that 5:00 am cup. I'll be okay.

And then I went on a bender. I had 2 cups of coffee this morning at 9 am and I'm still buzzing at 2:40 pm. I want to concentrate on Italian, but after 30 seconds of it I'm restless and need to do something else. Even posting this is making me manic because it's taking TOO DAMN LONG to finish.

Demon, demon 'feine.

HA!

WASHINGTON (AFP) - It is by no means dead, but for the first time, a new survey has shown that traditional marriage has ceased to be the preferred living arrangement in the majority of US households.

I'm not dancing on the grave of traditional marriage, by any means. I'm just happy to be in a majority, one of the gang, on the bandwagon, and so on.

It's amusing that journal "US Society and Values" states that this trend is either "catastrophic or evolutionary." Just a little fun Halloween scare-talk for the Bible Belt.

shoppin'

I don't mean to intentionally steal from La Lars, but while scanning the coat racks yesterday at Value Village I was reminded of how wonderful Trevor Howard's coat was in "The Third Man"

This isn't a good picture of it, but it was the only one I could find on the 'net (we don't own the movie .... yet), but it's heavy wool and has those wooden closures I love. It's like a post-war Paddington Bear coat.

My friend Don has a coat like this, but he won't trade me, so I've got to find it somewhere else.

Cah ... you'd think J Crew would make one.

Anyway, while sorting through photos related to "The Third Man" this one popped up:


It's Robert Kubica, the pride of Poland. He's a Formula One driver for BMW ... I guess it's because he used to be the third man/driver for them. Now, of course, he's a WINNAH! We loves the Kubica.

Remember how they used to pose you like this in grade school? They'd turn your chair to the left, but make you look right, but don't turn your head! just look right. perrrrrrrrrrrfect.

Week 3

The first 2 weeks of school are pretty exciting. The classes are new and there are all kinds of nutty situations with the fellow students -- first I love, then I hate, then I love again, and then ... then it's all pear-shaped. It all falls apart in the 3rd week. That's when the getting up at 4:30, the irritating situations at work, the unending homework, and lack of personal time really starts to take its toll. Why? Why? What will come of this? Is it worth it? Why?

And other pathetic whinging.

That said, after 3 weeks I can safely sum up the classes. La:

Italian 201 - Dios mio! I love this class. I still suck at spelling, but I'm starting to understand the instructor as the class continues. She's patient with us and illustrates what she's talking about when we get lost in the discussion -- she actually acts out the word or phrase. She's the best. I hope I can score her again next term.

Journalism 202 - Info Hell. Not as bad as I thought it would be, but since when is the Eugene Register-Guard an alternative paper? I got marked down for that? Whatever.

Film History - enough said on this, except for one more note: "Forrest Gump" was mentioned in class, was asked by professor to general class if it won best picture, my big mouth blurted out "yes", and grad student teacher shook his head at me. Wh-what? It sure as hell DID win. It was the worst movie ever and it fecking beat "Pulp Fiction" that year! You were what ... 10 when it came out? Huh, sonny? Let me tell you, boy-chick, if there's one thing I know it's crap trivia and that crap trivia was correct (this time ... okay, yeah, I was wrong about United Artists being a production company, sure).

Back to homework now. No more weekends until Christmas. Cah ... school + work = stupit idea.

I'm in Love

I haven't felt like this in so long, I'd almost forgotten what it felt like. I have a reason to go to school, to continue on, to exist. Everything everything revolves around this.

I can't even begin to describe the way my heart leaps when I turn the corner and my glance drifts and I forget the stress of Italian 201, and finding government documents that will support my argument about a change in public policy, and cell phones, and the way I have to spend every day listening to stupid boys talking like idiots to vapid girls ...

This.

This is what I live for.









It's GREEN. Could it be more perfect? Zut! Mein Gott: it even has a basket!

It's the love that dares to speak its name:
PEUGEOT.

Today's Sermon: Bikes, Man

I was yelled at today. It was on my way home from school. I was waiting for the light and I heard this frenzied, high pitch "YEAH, MAN! BIKES, MAN!" I turned to the car next to me, all the windows down and the driver was leaning over just to yell at me. In his enthusiasm he nearly tipped over his Dutch Brothers coffee cup. "YEAH! WHAT IF WE ALL GREW OUR OWN FOOD AND RODE BIKES! WHAT A BETTER WORLD IT WOULD BE! RIGHT? YEAH! RIGHT? LOOK AT THIS CAR" He was driving a Chevy Cavalier (I think) painted with alternate splotches of primer gray and Bondo. "WHO NEEDS IT?" he yelled as he turned in front of me, cutting me off at the light. "THIS CAR IS A PIECE OF SHIT!"

Amen brother.

Not for nuthin' but ...

Why do people still start emails/letters/etc... with the general address "Sir" or "Sirs"?

I mean, I'm no feminist (in that I shave my legs and I wear a bra), but for feck's sake, welcome to the new world, men. Chicks work n' stuff. And "To Whom it May Concern" is preferable, even in it's ambiguity, than "Sir".

By the way, I'm at work. It's Sunday. Usually I get this day to myself, all 8 hours. I wear scrappy clothes and work while listening to the Sony pod. I often sing along with Abba, albeit not in key (or even close to key), but it doesn't matter because with the pod on I can't hear myself and that's fine. This morning, in particular, I did not wear makeup even though I have dry patches and red splotches on my face due to the climate change. My hair is not combed.

So far 5 people have come in, including my boss, who showed up while I was starting this post.

I ask you, is that fair?

Overheard Cell Phone Conversations - Love Hate

Hate: "Hi! What are you doing? I just got out of class."

Love: "Yeah, so I had to spend 38 hours in solitary confinement..."

Art? Forgeddabowdit

I was going to post something today and then I totally forgot what it was. I'm sure it was important, however not so important that I would remember it.

School + Work = Me no think so good

I mean, good golly, when you're stressed out practicing t'ai chi, something's effed up. It's probably an art deficiency. These pictures always help...

This is Maurice Quentin de la Tour.

I used to think he looked a lot like Kevin Spacey.

But here he looks a little like Jack Benny.

Art is a wonderful, wonderful thing.

I'm calmer already.

Message to the future Dr. K:
"While it was never definitively established where Barney Rubble worked, the general consensus was that he also worked at Slate & Co. with Fred (though in another part of the quarry, as we did see some scenes in the locker room in which they both appeared, but never in the quarry itself)." (www.stupidquestionsanswered.com/answered/barney.htm)

He was also a geological engineer and a furniture repossessor. Barney was a true (Prehistoric) Renaissance man.

Sure I look down on my fellow students.
I feel as though I'm above them.
I feel that I'm better than they are.

I sneer at them.

Today in Film History we watched "The Freshman" with Harold Lloyd. The lights went off and not only did my fellow students laugh in all the right places, but they didn't talk through the film or make fun of it as being boring or lame or corny, or any of the things they say when the lights are on. They enjoyed it like a film audience in the '20s. When Harold is at his lowest, when he realizes his friends are all fakers and he's been used and made fun of, the classroom was dead silent. At the end, they applauded.

Dude, I love my fellow studenti.

L'il Happiest

See this toddler.
This is my niece.
She is now 3 1/2 years old.
She loves the Disneyland.
For this toddler I will practice the art of Happy.

For this toddler I will spend my Thanksgiving at Disneyland.

So I'll get my Disneyland hate questions out of the way and clear space to begin the slow path -- baby steps. baby steps -- to happy:

1. Why are there no flies at Disneyland? (saw a mosquito once.)(once.)
2. Why do they make it so you can't see outside of the park? And why does that make me hyperventilate?
3. Why is it that every time I go I end up parking in Thumper? (She, along with "Bambi," was one of those bikini-clad assassins from the weirdest scene in "Diamonds Are Forever.")
4. Why do I have to shell out $3.00 + tax for a certified, registered, only-at-Disneyland Carnation ice cream bar? It doesn't taste better than the $1.25 Circle K Carnation ice cream bar.
5. Was the Snow White ride really better on schrooms?

I feel free and happier already. Oh God ... what if she makes me go on It's a Small World?

(Duff Beer for me. Duff Beer for you. I'll have a Duff. You have one too.)

baby steps.

Back to School - Back to Reality?

Heard on campus today:

• Dude, my tv's too big for my cooler, dude. (2 uses of dude in the same sentence. Va bene.)
  
• Like, that's when you, like, discover how to, like, you know, use a calculator. Right?
  
• It sucks. Like, I've got to read this WHOLE BOOK.

And 4 instances of "I was just going to say" to begin a sentence. That's a new record. Sure, 2 of those came from the same student, but it still counts.

Over it

Okay, I'm done with the tantrum. I realize that this will come up a lot in my future career in journalism. Sure, I'll want to cover the Brad Pitt/Angelina Jolie baby/wedding/breakup/new house, but I may be relegated to covering Jessica Simpson's new boyfriend. That's just the way the game is played in the news business. And the university is a good place to start learning how to master apathetic reporting.

(It took 4 glasses of red wine to calm down, sure ...)

busted before I even begin

fucking shit fuck. I can't do my research project on Asperger or autism or anything else I was interested in. I have to do it based on one of the topics/news articles already selected by the professor. Fuck! How bitter am I? As if I care about teens and net porn! dammit janet.

And classes haven't even started yet!

"Jackass Number 2" ... Can't do it justice in words. My jaws ache from laughing so hard.

In fact, the movie ended half an hour ago and I'm still laughing. God ... the valentine ... and the bungee jump ... and the rocket ...

Last Hurrah

This is it. Monday school begins (which means Sunday I work, which means the end of the weekends). I have a first day of school outfit already picked out, I've started my research topic for my Journalism paper (Asperger syndrome), and I think I've got a handle on the Italian, at least enough to get me into the class and answering questions about my l'estate. I figure History of Film will take care of itself, and will be approached with an art-flows-over-you method of study. We'll see how long that lasts.

To celebrate the new academic year, cousin/roommate and I are going to pay full price for "Jackass 2".

Man, I love Party Boy.

Yesterday's customer comment of the day: Do you have inventory in your warehouse? And, yes, as I found out, he really did mean it in a general sense, not on a specific item. Are there retail companies out there that are just fronts? And, if so, what are the benefits of a business like that? I may want to consider that as a career. No inventory = No overhead. Bene.

HOT fecking DOG

Checked my school shhhedule today (since last year I started off my college career with 2 changed rooms and no notice) and that's when I noticed it:

SHE'S GONE! MY ITALIAN CLASS HAS CHANGED OUT THE INSTRUCTOR!

My Italian 201 instructor is now someone named Nobuko Wingard. Not a very Italian name, but that's ideal. Really. I-fecking-deal.

Of course, the devil you know and the devil you don't and yah yah yah, but I was having a really hard time coming to terms with the fact that I'd have 2 more months of trudging uphill in shite. One term of heart break (cuore male) in that fecking language is enough. It's good to know that I have a fresh chance with a new instructor who might have a handle on the English language -- which, oddly enough, is useful when you're bouncing students around the complexities of fare, essere and avere in a foreign language. You might want to have the ability to translate it. Yeah.

I should add another random class and up my credits.

Or is that cocky?

Customer service comment of the day by a customer in Texas:
"I've got to go. The dog and the monkey are starting to get into things."

To Knit or Not To Knit

Fall is coming, so it's back to knitting stuff. Last night I was watching "To Be or Not To Be" and I've decided to make this:

It's some form of hood with a scarf attached, and it seemed to keep her warm in Hollywood-Warsaw, so why not try it out in Eugene? It looks like something that will fit under the bike helmet too. Of course it may look completely freakish under the bike helmet ...

Maybe I'll just wear it on the bus.

This is similar to shopping at the movies, with the less than instant shopping-finding gratification. It's also probably going to look wayyyyyyyyyyy different when it's finished.

September 11th, 2001

- I remember not being able to wake up my roommate and boyfriend to tell them about it because she slept with ear plugs and he was clearly worn out from their marathon sex (in the bathroom, the bastards) the night before.
- That afternoon I was reprimanded at work for placing a Red Cross donation jar on my desk. I was told I needed to get it approved by management first. I never actually took it down, because giving-in would be chicken, but no one put money in until the boss said it was okay.
- That night I came home to a note in our mailbox saying that we were evicted from the house so the landlady could move her son in. He needed a stable home environment to win custody of his kids.
- It was the day my plane tickets arrived for visiting Eugene. Four weeks later I was living here.

These are my September 11th memories. God bless Amurca.

Revelations

After 2 days of searching, I've come to the conclusion that I somehow inadvertently donated my bowling ball to Katrina relief last year.

Our 1 Hour Mission

As part of the Eugene celebration of specialness, the McDonald Theatre acknowledged the 40th Anniversary of Star Trek in their "Best of the Best" Film Festival. They showed "The Man Trap" -- the first televised episode of Star Trek -- and it was free. Why free? Well, "Best of the Best Film Festival" didn't really apply to a film in this case. It meant a rented DVD from Flicks n' Picks. Can't show those to the public and charge for it. That would be bad. Even worse is enlarging it for a big screen. Odd how the sound was so funny. Oh well. On the plus side it had Kirk running in serpentine and the memorable line "Quit thinking with your glands" -- not said to Kirk in this case, but to Bones. Weird. [The second most memorable line of the night was from Steven Brence: "Bones is a post."]

Makes you wonder what would have happened if someone had checked out the disc before the McDonald got hold of it. Would have been a short festival, I guess.

There was also a costume contest with no contestants and a Q&A session led by a production assistant (see: "lackey") who worked on The Next Generation and a director of a web film who not only seemed completely unconnected to his film, but also didn't really care much about Star Trek outside of the fact that it gave him a low-paying job for a few hours. But I digress. As an example of Eugene specialness, the Q&A was typical: "I like to speak in Vulcan."

We left quickly afterwards.

Noon in the Garden of Good and Hateful

This is a Japanese Anemone.

Almost 3 years ago I planted 4 anemone bulbs and this is the only one to survive both a seemingly endless snail family and 2 winters with snow. Finally I have something that looks almost like what it's supposed to be. And there are 4 more buds on the way.

This Zinnia was going to be thrown away a couple of weeks ago.

The Before picture wasn't taken because I didn't think there would be an After picture. It used to have 1 flower and a bunch of dried leaves.

It is my finest hour.

That is all ... except to say Feckin', the Croc Hunter! It's too big to get my head around right now.

But I wanted to be Heihachi

According to the What Samurai Are You quiz, I'm Gorobei. I smile a lot and tend not to take things seriously.

I can live with that. Gorobei is pretty cool.

By the way, I want this.







It's a bargain at 126000 yen.