Monday, November 30, 2009
(Twilight was AMAZING. If it had been marketed as a comedy it would have been... SO. GOOD. I believe Twilight is self-parodying and the movie exemplifies that to great, great heights.)
And, seeing as I have made fun of the whole Twilight thing many, many times, I feel it is only fair to give it a (relatively) unbiased review.
Okay, not unbiased, but... less "WHATEVER" than would perhaps be normal.
1) The plot sucked. If they didn't have to follow the book so stringently it probably wouldn't have been so bad, but if they'd left anything else out they'd have run the risk of being murdered by The Masses.
Ignoring the fact that I don't feel the love towards many of the characters to begin with: I was not heartbroken in the least when Edward left. I was more "O HAI EDWERD, O JK BI." SO RUSHED. Same with the end. (Oh my f@#k, the end = HILARIOUS. Rena, I don't know if you've seen it/are planning to, but it is SO MUCH BETTER than the book. And by "better" I mean "ridiculous," and by "ridiculous" I mean "not in the slang sense but in the sense that it was actually absurd.")
2) Unsuspecting moviegoer: Victoria? Who the hell is that? Also, who the hell is that red haired chica and why is she hurting the wolfies?
Maybe this type of movie is made specifically for the fans - and lawd knows it worked on some level because it made a crapload of money - but if you didn't read the books, I feel like you'd be REALLY CONFUSED. Not because the plot is complicated but because nothing is explained. Maybe they didn't want to bog it down with tons of exposition, but they should have put it in there somehow, because it was... empty.
3) Acting: not that bad. Weirdly, I have never hated Kristen Stewart. I don't know what she does outside of movie making (I hear she smokes somethin'-somethin', and of that I disapprove [if it is indeed true], but other than that I don't really care about her personal life. Unless she, you knows, kills wolves or something) and from the things I've seen her in, she doesn't deserve to be hated. Not that I'd nominate her for The Best Actress EVER Award, but she's not half bad, I don't think. The stuttering/blinking is a bit overdone, but when you think about it? In line with the character. Seriously, being Bella doesn't give her much to work with. Bella has approximately 3 emotional settings/lack thereof: 1) Indifferent, 2) Panicked, 3) In Love. In New Moon Book Edition she spends the vast majority of her time in Indifferent mode. Kristen S does that pretty damn well. Occasionally she is In Love: all she has to do is breath heavily and faint, WHICH SHE DOES. Panicked: well, she did run a few times...
4) R-Pattz, I'm sorry; I get teary when you die in HP4, and I understand that Edward is not the most fulfilling roll... but you were a little... mm, creepy. More than you were before. AHHH *nightmares*
Blah, sorry for this not making any sense/destroying your brain cells. SO TIRED. <3
(PS, I feel somewhat obliged to post part of my substantially-less-than-50k-novel, and I'll get around to it eventually, but not tonight because a) the file won't open on this computer at the moment, which leads to 2a) which is that I am lazy, and b) because it is sort of crap and I'm somewhat ashamed to show it to the world. But that's okay. Friday, mebbe?)
* i.e. a "just kidding" movie, i.e. a movie that is so _____ (circle one: strange, bad, funny) that it can't possibly be considered a serious/legitimate/FOR REALS film.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
*drumroll, por favor*
MY NOVEL! A part of it; that part being a kind of prologue in the form of a letter to the readers from my FMC. This is written like an afterthought, after she's forever embittered by the experiences to be rambled about in the real novel, which means she basically (unintentionally) adopted a pretty bizznitchy tone. It is fun to write like a bizznitch. And it bumps the word count up by a bit.
The rest of it is more lighthearted, as the characters themselves are more naive, but I felt like an explanation was needed, almost like an apology on my behalf, but I couldn't stick "Hey, this novel sucks and I know it. Signed: Brain-Explodedy Author" in the beginning without sounding pathetic. Here's what I came up with in place of that:
BEWARE OF DOGS IN PURSES
(or, if you are reading this: A very simple introduction)
Dear Readers, (hah, readers...),
Before I go off on a completely nonsensical rant, (involving, among other things: love, loss, rebellion, Thought Trains, hypothetical babies, quite a bit of food, the purchasing of an island, a heated debate about pizza toppings and the meaning of life, and the formation of us.) here are some very basic things you should know:
1. My full name, given to me by the people who once were my biological parents-- the super famous Hollywood director Samuel N. James and super famous for no good reason model/ talk show host loved by all of the United States and beyond, Lily Adrienne Franklin-James-- is February Ceks (yes, SEX. Giggle like 11 year olds in public school required, gym teacher taught Health at that one.) Frames. (because the hyphenated last name would have just been over the top...)
Let that sink in, and then you can laugh your ass off. Go ahead. I would too if it weren’t me.
2. There are many more like me. The children of the super famous, fantastic, tabloid foddering, paparazzi loving, publicity craving, who’s only method of obtaining it in their verging on C-list stages of fame is procreating with someone of an equal fame level and naming their unfortunate offspring whatever “unique” thing they can come up with. And then, when the kids have been sculpted into the perfect Hollywood stardom cash cows, making them investments. Pet projects. To live vicariously through the fame they have cruelly forced upon us. Not taking into account that we are HUMAN BEINGS. With feelings and thoughts and dreams. And an abundance of green gummi bears. And POWER. Let’s not forget that.
All of this may sound extremely far fetched, cliche, terrible, melodramatic, et cetera... to you. This is REAL. Real lives were royally fucked up in this process and therefore I forbid you to laugh. Reality is real. Reality is not funny. As a wise man once said, “Life sucks then you die.” So true.
You now are wondering why we even cared, why we couldn’t just change our names and disown our parents and continue our lives, like that would make everything normal and forget what we went through. Yes, I know what you are wondering. That is precisely how you are writing off our entire existence with your filthy cynicism. You should be ashamed of yourself. It is all much, much deeper than that. We cannot be brainwashed by money and a simple change of what we are called. Sure, we all thought that in the beginning, when we were young and naive. Through the island we learned about ourselves, and we learned we were wrong. Such is life.
3. Together, we can do anything. No matter who “we” is, everyone is part of a “we”. This is probably an empowering statement, but let’s not get philosophical. My particular “we” is the Band of Rudolphs-- (you will figure that out later, trust me.) the group of rebellious “Celebritots” I helped assemble over the Internet, multiple tacos, and a trip to the circus.
This is our story.
The misfit/hedgehog tamer’s assistant/queen/taco chef extraordinaire/heartbroken regular teenage girl formerly known as February Ceks Frames.
Friday, November 27, 2009
I've never really had one of those table hoppin' family parties because my family mostly consists of the wise, i.e. elderly. I love them very much, and they are fabulous, but they are also in their eighties and have perhaps left their break dancing days behind.
For some reason, the generation above me was not into procreating, so I have two cousins - yes, two - both of whom are in their twenties. My sister and I are the youngest in our not-ridiculously-extended family. I have a HUGE extended family, but most of them are on the middle aged side and up as well, and I've met them maybe once. There were many divorces and remarryings and such on my dad's side, so I'm not even clear on who I'm related to and who I'm not. Also, they mostly live in Indiana and Michigan, and I live in Maryland, so it's not like we can just hop next door and talk to them. It's a similar situation on my mom's side except they all live in England so I have even less of an opportunity to see them! Whoo!
Basically, I HAVE NO IDEA WHO MY FAMILY IS. I just stick with the grandparents/second cousins/aunts/uncles.
THEN I received some bad news before venturing to my g-parents' house so that was somewhat of a gloomy cloud over the Table of Dreams. Oh holidays, how fun you are.
But it was alright. My sister is home until Sunday and we have a four (now three) day weekend; PARTY. When we got home, we played the Wizard of Oz Board Game which is very fun. (I had a weird Oz fetish when I was younger. I mean, I still like it, but I was OBSESSED.)
Mehrp merhp. I feel like my posts would be so much better if I could record sound chips to EMPHASIZE certain points (actually, I'd probably just hum annoyingly, but it's pretty much the same thing).
Alex, your novel is fabulous and intelligent-sounding. I bet it'll be AWESOME by the time it's finished. Wonder what it's like to be smart! ;) Rena, I'd love it if you posted some of yours, too. Party time!
*Canada, you know I love you, but please change your name to Canadia. SO MUCH COOLER. (I also think the US should change their name to Amsco, because it's a textbook making company that reminds me of scrambly eggs. Clearly, I give out good advice.)
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Today wasn’t my normal classes. Today was the Saturday dance class for beginners. The difference between my classmates in this class and all my other classes was almost comical. It was all the stay at home moms out for a dance class to escape their hectic lives of shuffling their offspring from school to home, from after school activity to activity. That would never be me.
After our class we always headed over to the bakery next to the studio for a coffee. It was just me and The Moms, chatting about their mundane lives and my schoolwork and lack of a boyfriend. It made for good times.
I was standing there at the counter debating between a Danish, a triple chocolate cookie and a lemon square when a red headed, sort of cute in a weird way, boy came up to me.
“If you’re thinking about the lemon square, I can assure you that it’s 100% delicious. Magically delicious, even. It has the perfect combination of tangy tartness and sugar.”
“Is this an objective stand-point or do you have some personal interest in the subject?” I asked him with a smile.
This earned a chuckle from him, “Well, I did make them with my bare hands,” he held up ten fingers and wiggled them, “but that doesn’t mean what I say isn’t true. Would I lie to you?”
“I’ll have a lemon square, please.” I smiled and headed over to the cash register as he reached into the glass compartment to get my square. He then put it on a plate and sprinkled some icing sugar over it.
“That’ll be $2.95, plus your soul,” he said.
“Now I want the cookie, does the cookie cost me my soul?” I said.
“Why would you want the cookie? I sprinkled the sugar on this one just for you. I don’t do that for Mr. and Mrs. Templeton,” he gestured toward a couple of seniors sitting by the windows holding hands over the table like they were still in love even after sixty years of dirty socks and soggy breakfast cereal.
“Fine, I’ll eat your magically delicious lemon square. However, if it’s not as good as you say, I demand a refund,” I said, fishing around in my wallet for exact change.
“Granted. You can get it all back if you want it. Your lack of faith astounds me.” I passed over nine quarters, and a handful of pennies.
“As I grabbed the plate he had slid over to me he grabbed it too. “Are you sure you’re ready for the taste sensation that’s about to overcome your senses?” he asked, as I tried to wrestle the plate away from him.
“I’m ready. Give me my square.” He let go and I walked away, my long, black, unnaturally straight hair swinging behind me.
I headed back to our table where Linnie was telling us all about the troubles she was having in the effort to potty train her son, Kian.
You have to wonder what is going through a parent’s mind as they write Kian on a birth certificate. First of all, it sounds a little like a girl’s name, and second, do you really want your beloved child to be spelling out his name to dumb-founded peers, teachers and people in general for the rest of his life? That’s just mean spirited.
I’m glad that I have a somewhat normal name. I’ve only had to spell out my name once, and that women didn’t even speak English as her first language. Caroline is sufficiently ordinary without being commonplace like Megan or Jessica.
I listened to the parenting difficulties and ate my lemon square, which was just as tasty as it had been acclaimed to be. When it came time to talk about the teenager of the party, I was gracefully evasive and non-committal. They all smiled knowingly, pretending they actually understood me, and reminisced about their own teenage lives.
I know it sounds cynical and rude and more than a little cliché, but it’s true that these women don’t know a thing about me. I’m not blaming them, it’s just the truth. They each have their own personal image of me that reflects some part of themselves, and I’d say that that most of them aren’t at all interested in seeing if they’re right. I’m just another teenage girl, and that’s enough for them.
Eventually they all filed out, each giving an excuse such as laundry or picking Chardonae up from soccer practise. I had to stay. My workaholic mother, was—you guessed it—busy working, no surprise there, and thus could not pick me up for another fifteen minutes. In my mother’s world this translated to me sitting in the bakery for the next half hour at least.
Luckily, I was prepared. I pulled out my notebook and started doing homework. Not the most exciting stuff, but it had to be done at some point. Unfortunately—or fortunately depending on which way you look at it—I wasn’t alone for long.
“I see that you ate your entire square. Satisfying?” he plopped himself down in the chair opposite me.
“Yes, it was. My compliments go to the baker,” I said. He was still wearing his apron and his hair was slightly messed. I guess when you have short curly hair it always looks slightly messed. My brother was a testament to that as well.
---Now I skip over a part that I'm not overly fond of but will improve in the editing process. Ro is now home on the same day after a unenjoyable car ride with her mother.---
I was running up the steps to my room, not to get away from my mom but simply because I’m always running up stairs, when my twin brother Glenn called my name. Apparently he’d been waiting for me to get home. Unfortunately for me he followed me to my bedroom and took a seat on my computer chair. He sighed, dramatically. My twin was needy and clingy. If he didn’t have his own sports friends, he’d probably follow me around at school and eat lunch with my friends. I could happily ignore the fact that I had a twin and behave like a regular teenage girl does to her brother, but Glenn insisted we needed to have a connection so that we didn’t become some awful television show version of brother and sister who hated each other and were always caught up in one piece of drama or another. Glenn was... hard to explain.
“What is it Glenn? I’m exhausted from dance and dealing with our mother and I’d really just like to close the blinds, put on some music and jump up and down like a twelve year old girl at a Jonas Brothers concert. Don’t you have shirts to iron?”
“I’m sorry you have such a difficult life, but I need your help,” he smiled sarcastically at me. Glenn and I shared the same smile as well as a handful of other features. We had the same raven black hair—his was curly, as was mine when I didn’t spend nearly an hour after every shower straightening it—the same dark brown eyes and the same nose. We were also the same height, give or take an inch and my parents sometimes joked that our ears were remarkably similar.
“Okay, but when you’re done, instead of the Jo Bros, I’m going to blast some whiny rock music and sing along to that. And naturally, the sound is going to leak into your bedroom next door and maybe even the neighbours’ house. But you can still leave if you want,” I was hoping against hope that he’d leave me alone, but deep down I knew that when Glenn wanted to talk to you, Glenn was going to talk to you. There was nothing else I could do other than wrestle him to the floor and try to force him out. With, him being a muscular soccer player, the odds were not in my favour if it came to physical combat.
After considering that last option for about a second Glenn said, “Will you please stop being so selfish for five minutes? How was dance class?”
“I quit dance. All those desperate mothers and that little Kristina girl were seriously getting to me and I just snapped. Now I’ll be able to spend more time at home with you,” I said.
“Really?” he said. He was cautiously hopeful, while still being sympathetic to me. No one I know could pull this off but Glenn.
“No, Glenn, of course I didn’t. If I stopped going to dance I might spontaneously combust. No one wants that. Except maybe mom.”
He was accustomed to my dramatic tendencies and ignored it expertly.
“Be serious,” he complained, “I’m just trying to talk to you.” He paused for a moment, collecting himself, or maybe working up the courage to tell me he really was gay, “I need a girlfriend.”
“Oh thank God. I thought you were about to come out of the closet.” She thought about it. “This is the problem you need help with? You follow me like a puppy dog to my room and tell me not to be so dramatic and self centered and you want me to solve the impossible conundrum of your love life? Leave.”
“Fine, Ro. Be that way. I’m leaving.”
“’Be that way’? Who says ‘be that way’? Get a new catchphrase, Glenn. We left the 90’s behind a while ago.”
He ignored me. I sighed. At last I was alone. I grabbed my iPod, lay down on my bed, and wallowed in the patheticness that was my life.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
The first weird habit I could think of was that occasionally, when I was in a line somewhere, I'd pick out a random person and basically think up their whole life story, usually with crazy details and random crap but that's what made it fun. As of late I've started this again, as a sort of character development for my novel. (side: I hope to make it to 15k. Fail.) But, as evidenced by this diary entry from when I was younger, it got borderline creepy.
"Hello again, FPWWWTKAMWIBF**,
I think that you should know that one of the fabulous (something scratched out many times) creative exercises I have come up with is something which I call "The That Person Game". In TTPG***, I spot a person in a random public location and think of their entire life. I think I am very good at this and that it is very fun, so here are some I have come up with:
--A guy probably in college, but he's dropped out twice so he's old. He eats cat food because it's cheap and looks fancy. He claims to like the taste but really he's close to homeless. He does not have a girlfriend and is becoming desparate [sic]. He joined eHarmony but quit after six months because all his internet match people were from prison, and that's when the free period ends.
-- Looks like she could be a middle aged stage mom person, but doesn't have kids. She got bad Botox about 4 months ago and it's starting to puff way too much. She buys used thongs at the Salvation Army. Her interests include: Romance novellas where they both die, and anything mango scented.
This is most definitely my best one:
-- Her favorite color is puce and she's considering boob reduction surgery and she has 3 cats named Muffin, Twinkletoes, and Sasha. Her tv isn't working and the repair guy didn't show up yesterday so she is drafting a very strongly worded letter to the company in her head. She wants him fired. Simulteneously [sic] she is trying to remember if she left her credit card on the table and trying to pick a wedgie without using her hands. Her favorite Ben&Jerrys flavor is Cherry Garcia, which she eats by the pint while she watches Lifetime movies where everyone dies at the end of some sad disease and cries over her son Donny who hasn't called in 15 years.
That's how I amuse myself and who knows? One of these people could be the inspiration for my novel!!!! My debut, of course. Once I'm an expert novelist, however, my great novel will either be a romance flecked with mystery or a mystery flecked with romance. Possibly a murder involved, but that won't be the ENTIRE plot. Not a total tragedy but there will be a fair amount of drama. There will be funny parts too. There will be action and adventure. Maybe even a battle sequence! Yes, my great novel will have all of these things. Goodbye."
(laugh freely now, as you guys *and I, in retrospect* tend to do when I drag up STORIES FROM MY CHILDHOOD.)
Wow. I was either messed up beyond all comparison as a child or a genius. Weird how I mention "my great novel", whilst I'm now trying to WRITE IT. Sorry, tiny me. There is no murder. :(
* I was 10, and this was probably around the time I read Harriet the Spy. Awesome book.
** Fabulous People Who Will Want To Know About Me When I Become Famous
*** I was quite fond of acronyms. :)
Monday, November 23, 2009
Now, if you're fluent in two languages, I would imagine that you have the ability to think in two different languages. Otherwise, there would be an uncomfortable and/or exciting pause in every conversation with a non-native speaker. However, I am not fluent in French (yet), as my French teacher will gladly tell you. * Therefore, I do not automatically think in French. I often say "pourquoi" instead of "why" and "oui" instead of "yes," but for the most part my French speaking is an almost entirely conscious effort. Which is somewhat of an advantage because it means I have to think about what I'm translating, which effectively blocks other less fun thoughts from my brain! Yay!
I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but I have a bad habit of overanalyzing everything and dwelling too long on minor incidents. That said, I rarely hold grudges and I don't rage like a squid of anger over tiny things that happened a month ago; it's purely an internal thing (at least, as far as I know. I hope it is...) and generally only over little things that are still, for some reason or another, embarassing for me **. I realize this is a fault of mine, and to avoid exploding into tiny pieces I turn to my handy trick of French thinking. It's quite fun. I'm excellent at translating song lyrics, except I don't know every French word, so there are many instances where I either translate the song lyric literally and/or basically when it would probably be replaced with some other phrase in FOR REALZ French. It's great because I end up getting the partially-correctly-translated French lyric stuck in my head instead of the English one. Songs, they follow my INTERNATIONALLY.
Do you have any unusual(ish) habits?
* Although I did manage to raise my grade 4 percentage points in the last week or so of the last quarter and get exactly a 90% in French, which is an A. I felt so proud. ;)
** When I say embarrassing, I don't actually mean that the event itself was embarrassing, but I would direct you back to my comment about overanazlying everything. :O
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Why is it that I wait until ze late night hours to blog? I start thinking I have a good idea for a post, procrastinate on it, and *poof* the thought is gone. Continuing with the extended train metaphor/simile/other smart intentional sounding literary device, forget about derailed. My thoughts are like this huge train wreck involving the Productivity Train and the Suck Train. They crash, and then it's like, "Ohhhh noez, whatever will become of the Productivity Train? There were BABIES on that train! Save them, azzhole! Save the thought babies! All hope is not lost! Oh, but let's go see what happened to the Suck Train. Let's see what died over there." And at this point you can't even tear yourself away from it; the train wreck is so morbidly fascinating. "Mmm, it's not so bad over here. Maybe I can just live here and forget about the dead thought babies on the Productivity Train." And then you get off and see both trains kind of scrunched together and flipped over half way, and that is just terribly depressing. But, wait, in all this commotion and spastic thought process, you forget about things and are brought back to reality by this one little sound, a kind of pathetic whimper, but you investigate it. It's a LIVE thought baby! Oh dear god YAYYYY! And then you are absorbed in the miracle and adorableness of this surviving thought, but think, "Now that I have you I will USE you, dammit! I saved you from this awful mess of a thought train wreck, I have to put you to use at least! So that something productive will come out of this! Sure, I was the one who caused it... but now I have this one scrap of a useful thought! VICTORY!!!"
THAT is precisely what my train of thought is like. THAT is also how I try to increase my word count, going off on long crazy rants and not using contractions or pronouns and making "train wreck" two words. I think it can be used as one, but for my purposes it's two. So HAH. Wait, I want to see how many words that was. *pastes into Pages* Two hundred and fifty two words! Oh yes. This is quite good...
Anyway, what was I talking about? No idea, so let's just start over:
Welcome back Vita! Woot woot! *blowing of party banners & such* Answer to your question: I might try it, once I can get used to iSight and stuffs. It's really weird having to stare at myself while the thing is filming, and the lighting is usually weird so half my face is all white and blurry and it makes me mad. Like I said I'm still fiddling around with PhotoBooth, which has the same light problem, I don't know if I can turn off the flash of if that even IS a flash or what. It's also not as convenient as a normal digital camera, because it only takes pictures of things directly in front of my desk. When I'm doing picture-worthy type things I am not near my desk, and likewise when I'm near my desk I'm in jammypants and eating Sour Cream & Onion Pringles. Unflattering. I'll try sometime. Even just to get a normal looking Twitter picture...
I have a feeling that's long enough so I'll stop here. See you Tuesday all! (If I'm alive at the end of the day... gahhh we have the rest of the week off so that means Tuesday EVERYTHING is due... no, no, I will not allow my brain to explode. Not yet.
**EDIT** I tried to insert a picture from photobooth that although sparkly-white-flashy vampirey was okay looking. Then came the Spinning Wheel of DEATH (very common though effin annoying occurrence on Macs.) and to this I say BLEH. Not going to try that again, anyone know how to fix it???
**EDIT numero 2** What to do with the New Moon widget? Delete it, put an Eclipse movie countdown widget in its place (it's more than a year but I'm sure someone has made one...) or leave it up for eternity to stare at Edward's Edwardy hotness?
On the topic of blogging (which I have been neglecting as of late), I blog because I am a crazy, crazy person.
I've attempted a few different blogs in the past, most of which ended up getting one post before they were abandoned. I suppose my challenge is writing for myself, as opposed to writing for myself AND somebody else. It's easier to talk when someone else is listening, isn't it? Maybe it's not like that for everyone, but it is for me. * At least you can pretend that you're getting something out of it. Okay, that sounds a bit on the selfish side - but it's true, or at least I think it is.
I started blogging in earnest because of BEDA, and the a greater extent because of M to the Johnson, and to an even greater extent, the internet hamsters. They control everything. They could probably solve world hunger if they put their minds to it and incorporated a few videos of singing cats. Because everybody knows the internet's sole purpose for being is so that cat videos have a place to live.
But I digress.
This specific blog we have going is more personal, though, or at least more interactive, because if nobody else reads it, at least we do. It's a bit like an open-letter writing campaign. And everybody likes getting letters. ** In reality, this blog is open to the public, but sometimes it feels like it's just a little corner of the internet. (I like to think of it as a nice squishy couch.)
Blogging is also a way to get all your opinions out. It's a great alternative to murdering people! Perhaps it should be incorporated into rehab facilities!
And, of course, I don't see myself stopping blogging *** any time soon because I would miss you guys too much. Curses, interwebz!
Would you ever consider videoblogging?
(I probably wouldn't, mostly because I'm lazy. But you never know...)
* Not that I don't talk to myself, because believe me, I do. I have very interesting conversations with myself, actually.
** Except the trees.
*** That sounds gramatically incorrect. Poo.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Alex, have you finished Going Bovine yet? No pressure, I'm just thinking about the book club. (To be brought up again hopefully after NaNo/holidays/awesome post of Seattle + HANK? Who knows? Good idea, by the way. I really liked the answering of questions and discussion and such.) Or if both of you have read it I'm currently reading The Book Thief (which Vita mentioned AGES ago. It is quite fantastic.)
I think I just managed to plan something more than 2 days ahead of time. WOW. Now let's apply that to any one of the other things I should be doing. HAH.
Oh, look, a QUESTION! *is immediately reminded of Question Tuesdays and feels the need to answer this quickly, followed by a witty answer to "Who the eff is HANK?!* Wow. My train of thought is easily derailed. Oooooh! Metaphor! Bad, overused train metaphor! *scribbles furiously in convenient notepad, despite not having one. Why am I talking in the stars again? Bloodledoodledooo...*
Alex's question: Like this blog post, very unconnected and chaotic but oodles of awesomeness! Saw the Cherry Orchard, made muffins, yakked with my friends I've barely talked to AT ALL this (school **You see how it gets in the way of crap? And drama and NaNo and being an unadjusted crazy freshman**) year, choreographed an interpretive dance (those last two very much connected. What friends are for, definitely. Being insane and having people going along with it and adding to the total madness...) and things I'm probably forgetting, but it was just all awesome.
Alex's answer: AMEN. Heck I use that loosely but I really could not have said it better. Like, if this blog were suddenly over and we all met up somewhere I feel like we could totally just pick up where the blog was left off, like a conversation. I know some new people and I AM the known one, and it feels great to have a connection with people you don't really know and at the same time know that people know you. Y'know? (Two words were grossly overused in that little rambling. Guess which they are. ;))
Wow. (third time I've used that word in this post, too) This is getting long. I go now to eat muffin and figure out what the heck Kenken is.)
Monday, November 16, 2009
I believe I have said this before, but I strongly suggest getting involved with your own Drama department, if possible. Obviously, I've only been to my own, but the way I hear it, most theatre sections of teh skoolz are all pretty beast. It's like one huge, sometimes dysfunctional, usually insane, AWESOME family.
* AKA Tech Week, AKA Sunday/Monday - Thursday the week the show opens, in which all the cast & crews stays until 10:00pm to run through the play. I have such a love/hate relationship with Hell Week... as do most people, methinks.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Anyway, it's kind of a satire of celebrities who name their kids things like Moxie CrimeFighter and Diva Muffin (I'm serious. I researched this to get some ideas, and those belong to the daughters of Penn Jilette and Frank Zappa respectively. My mom actually considered naming me Diva, thank god not with the middle name Muffin...) Well, not really a satire, just based on the concept that eventually these kids will resent their names and be ridiculed for them; and also that the parents of these kids are *almost* certainly exploiting them for cash.(Miley Cyrus ringing bells here?) Then comes the EPIC REBELLION. So hardly satirical at all. But "satire" makes it sound intentional and professionalish. I couldn't use real names either, so I had quite a bit of fun making up names like February Ceks (...yeah. Sex.) and Dammit ! (middle name being the exclamation point) and DangerPunch Major. Maybe too much fun.
Anyway, these teenagers band together and divorce their parents to form their own island society. Think Lord of the Flies but without the death and religious allusions. No, there's going to be death. Just towards the end, when I need a word stretch. Death scenes increase word count nicely.
So far the plot is so improbable it's funny. Like baaaaaddd reality television. But I'm trying to make it sound intentional. Last sentence: "'Good idea' he said, with a short high laugh and a maniacal twitch in his eye." DangerPunch is about to go on a crazed rampage, but I'm going to build to that until I can figure out the outcome of it. I really want to write a crazed rampage scene and that's the only reason I'm doing it. Like I said, so insane and unrealistic it comes off as comical, but 50k is 50k!
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
**Written on board in obnoxiously large letters**: ESSAY DUE THURSDAY. TEST THURSDAY. STUDY YOUR VERDAMMT BRAINS OUT YOU UNPREPARED MONKEYS!
(okay, so that last part really wasn't. But she was thinking it, I assure you. She swears at/insults us frequently in German and/or Gaelic. I know how to say, "Take your two fat lips and staple them together!!!!" in Gaelic thanks to her. Have I told you this before? She also does this loud, shrill you-will-rip-your-brainstem-out birdcall type thing. Then she yells at us because we've "made her use it" and it "hurts her voice". Bah.)
Anyhooo, my point there besides ranting about the horrors of freshman requirement classes, is that whilst I was staring at this, I forgot it was ALREADY TUESDAY. The day on which the essay assignment (the fall of Rome this time, how exciting...) was given. I neglected it, so now I have to write an essay in a day and cram for this test. Looking back on my notes some of them make no sense to anyone but me. ("Draco's law is eeeevil. MALFOY!") We're also studying ("from a scholar's perspective"-- meaning, "This is a public school so we have to find some way your parents can't sue us") Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, which is where this gem comes from... "Easter = ZOMBIFICATION OF JESUS CHRIST!!!!! SUPERSTAR!" I have to amuse myself somehow, but it's a good thing these aren't graded.
I've also been looking back at the Ning, and we've kept this blog-correspondence going for a little less than 7 months. W00T!
Hmm, no questions. Au revoir then. *goes off, muttering "Today is Wednesday!" to self over and over*
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Yes, I said it. I'm not sick or jet-lagged as far as I know, some days it just feels damn good to be lazy.
I'm a terrible person. Sloth is a sin and all that. I'm being exceptionally slothful and awful and lazy today. An incomplete list of THINGS I HAVE DONE:
2. Contemplate more sleep.
3. Eat a muffin.
4. Shower. (though still in jammypants and a sweatshirt advertising Toronto, Canada. When did I ever acquire this? Why does it feel the need to proclaim that, yes, Toronto IS in Canada. It just seems too obvious. This is probably kids size though so it may be seen as some kind of geography lesson. Oh well. Sooooo comfy...)
5. Play with Photobooth, the only thing AJ* is capable of.
6. Teh internetz.
7. Television viewing. Currently some documentary on cats is on in the background. My mom is yelling at a cat owner on TV with on obese cat. Not because she let the cat become this fat, but because she named it Mopar.**
8. Eating other assorted things I can't remember.
9. ..... not much else.
Some days it just feels damn good to lazy. That's my only explanation. But I'll probably stay up til 5 am because of this excessive weird sleep schedule. Maybe I will make waffles for all of the world. *starts planning*
Dressing up-- Um, hellz ya. That covers it. It's FUN.
Novel writing-- Going okay. Slow, but okay. I never agreed to this so-called deadline so if I don't finish even the first draft until 2010 I'll be happy. There's always revision. :)
YouTube-- Hank and John, DUH! :P Aside from them, I love Michael Buckley.
Question: If you could create your own holiday (for yourself or some equally worthy cause...) what would it be?
*Short for Apple July, (formerly Jack, for Mac/Apple puns...) which is what I have named my Internetless Mac. Maybe I'll post pictures of whatever sometime just because playing with technology is also FUN. I at least need a profile picture, jeez. Curse you old Windows!
** My mom is like this, but seriously, MOPAR?!
Friday, November 6, 2009
I certainly won't be campaigning for weed to be legalized. However, I'm not necessarily against its legalization either. My main concern is the restrictions that would be placed on marijuana use if it were to be legalized.
Weed as a backyard recreational thing? Fine. I don't believe it's more harmful than alcohol or regular cigarettes (neither of which I am a fan, but neither of them are going away any time soon). I simply do not want people to be given free reign to use it in public. Obviously, there are many people who smoke in public and even more who attend school and other places stoned, but even they have to be somewhat discreet about it. It's annoying enough to have to walk through a cloud of disgusting cigarette smoke and I'd rather not have to dodge the smell of pot, too. I suppose the best way to approach the situation is to treat it like a "public intoxication" thing - it doesn't matter so much what you do in private, but once you bring it outside, you can be charged for it.
I suppose the real stupidity of the situation is that outlawing weed isn't really benefiting anybody. Tons of people smoke and never get caught. Those who do get caught usually don't face severe punishments. I believe it's illogical for the punishment of weed to be changed to something more severe because it would take even more time away from police officers who could be doing something more constructive (as far as breaking the law goes, you could do far worse than get stoned).
At the same time, though, I'm somewhat opposed to its legalization on moral grounds. In comparison to other substances, weed isn't that bad. I'd rather have weed legalized than, say, heroin. And yes, I know that marijuana is "natural" and a "herb" and is therefore better * for you than harder drugs, but it's still a drug, as far as I'm concerned. Maybe you can't be physically addicted to it, but you can definitely be psychologically addicted to it, which is almost as bad. Maybe weed isn't as damaging to your health as cigarettes, but look at how low the standard is! Cigarettes list the same chemical that goes into rat poison as one of the ingredients, for God's sake. Nobody's going around claiming that smoking is good for your health. Maybe nobody has died directly because they were smoking weed, but I don't think you can argue with the fact that it changes your state of mind. For better or for worse, you're not thinking the same way when you're high.
I don't know what the best course of action is here (if you couldn't tell). At any rate, I don't know how likely it is that marijuana will ever be fully legalized. After all, which politician or president wants to be known as "the one who legalized drugs?"
The other thing that I am extremely frustrated about - and this is with almost everything, not just weed - is the difficulty of finding accurate information. Abortion: pro-life groups often lie like crazy; pro-choice groups often ignore the negatives. Drug use: pro-legalizers act like it's the best thing ever; the government won't admit to any potential benefits. Everything else: Fox News is insanely conservative; MSNBC is ridiculously liberal. Everybody is so damn biased. Why the hell can't somebody establish more organizations that actually TELL THE TRUTH?
How goes the novel writing?
Heh. It's alright, except I'm behind a few thousand words. The thing is, I can't find the time to write. Now, I know that's not a good excuse because tons of people who overachieve far more than I complete (or at least make good headway into) NaNoWriMo... but Jesus it's difficult. I love to write, I'm just not disciplined at all.
Who is your favorite YouTuber?
* better being a relative term, of course
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
I really didn't expect to like this book as much as I did. I usually hate this sci-fi-but-not-really thing, like that it's set in "the future" but not unrealistically. No aliens or total nuclear apocalypse, just the world-- but you see how creeepy and scary and awful it will all become? Meh, don't ask me why, I dislike that a lot.
I did like this. It's paced very well, just when I was starting to get fed up with the "Peeta being sick advances the romance" thing, people start getting killed! HAHA. Other than that, I agree with Vita. I think Haymitch (awesome as he is, like a drunk Merlin or Dumbledore type) was solely invented for the purpose of forcing their romance. Maybe that's the point, Katniss being pushed into it for the sake of strategy but then eventually falling in love for realz, but that is either unintentionally awkward or a terrible cliche. There are tons of cliches in this, but it works to an extent. The government being corrupt and nuts, population control and the real-ish end of the world thing, as well as the romance and paranoia in a life-or-death situation, alliances and betrayal and blahdiddy, everything that arises when the central plot is a killing spree... which I love. The Games themselves are so intense and *the* best part of the book IHMO.
How does Katniss feel about the country of Panem? Why does she need to make her face "an indifferent mask" and be careful what she says in public?
The government is insane. She knows they'll censor (or kill) her anyway if she shows how she really feels, and it isn't going to help her within the Games either. She has opinions and emotions, she just knows she can't express them and/or is a shy person naturally. Strategy and survival instincts.
When Peeta declares his love for Katniss in the interview, does he really mean it or did Haymitch create the "star-crossed lovers" story?
Peeta and Haymitch are interesting to me. Did Haymitch think this up and spring it on both of them, or did Peeta know beforehand? Did Peeta tell Haymitch thinking it would be confidential, only to have his secret spun into a tale for publicity? There's so many ways this could have come about, but because I love Peeta I'll say he was being sincere. He's just that adorable. :)
Before the Games start, Peeta tells Katniss, " . . . I want to die as myself . . . I don't want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster that I'm not." What does this tell you about Peeta? What does he fear more than death? Is he able to stay true to himself during the Games?
Again, sincerity and adorableness! Yeah, he could have been turned into a heartless killing machine, which IS a lot scarier than death in a way. After that transformation, he'd have to deal with the guilt of killing tons of other innocent people as he would in his real personality. Guilt and festering in misery for the rest of his life, knowing he won only because 11 other people had died... all of that would be much worse. :(
When does Katniss first realize that Peeta does care for her and is trying to keep her alive? When does she realize her own feelings for him? Did Haymitch think all along that he could keep them both alive by stressing the love story? Are they actually in love?
Ahhh, conundrum! Katniss can't even recognize her own feelings about Peeta and you expect ME to sort them out?! Once again, I'm going to stick with my uncomplicated cliche idea that yes, they were in love the entire time, Katniss's dramatic understanding of this is an adorable yet overused roamntic cliche, Haymitch is an awesome drunk/interfering mofo/love guru dude... :D
I no like be thinky.
Gale or Peeta?
Of course Peeta! Gale is cool in his mysterious way, more as a mentor than anything else.
As for their deaths: I expected it at times, I'm morbid like that, but practically the book would then have no sequel, much less an ending.
Cato: Douchenozzle. I was happy to see him die bloodily, because what fun would any death be without gore, ESPECIALLY the douchenozzles! >:P
**Spellcheck FAIL: "Douchenozzle" and "roamntic" aren't red, but the "fi" in sci-fi is.**
(Wait, when I put those words in quotes it corrects them... confoozled I is.)
Monday, November 2, 2009
Seeing as you two are in different timezones, this probably looks like it's being posted an hour or two earlier than it actually is. I'll let you keep that image; it makes me look more productive... ;)
The Hamster Gods have taken mercy on us and have given us today off school * so I am having a party. Not really. But I AM going in to school at 12 so that we can have a Running Chinese food party before voyaging to the rehearsal for The Crucible! Yeaaah! Unfortunately this means I have to take a quicky quick shower so I can possibly do homework before I leave so I'm not up late doing it tonight...
The Hunger Games.
(Obviously, this post has spoilers. If anyone is reading this who hasn't read THG, you may want to stop now...)
I shall start off by saying that, in general, The Hunger Games (THG) does not fall under the category of Book Genres that I Love Forevermore. Dunno, I'm simply not an action/adventure type reader, I suppose. You could argue that Harry Potter and A Great and Terrible Beauty are action/adventure, I guess, but I think THG has more of a science-fictiony feel to it as well.
That said, I did like The Hunger Games. It's just... I didn't love it. Somehow it didn't seem that unique to me. Certainly, it's a good idea and not one that I've read about before.
The actual Hunger Games - the part where they're all thrown into arena and have to try and stay alive - I liked that part a lot. It was very well done and felt quite realistic. However, the "bigger picture" surrounding the Hunger Games didn't sit quite right with me. It was that part that disappointed me, because I didn't feel like it was a very original idea.
The government is out to get us! They want us all to die! They're dictators!
Yes, yes, yes. I know. Thank you for telling me.
Honestly, I would have loved THG so much more if there had been a slightly different reason for the government starting the Hunger Games in the first place. Granted, I haven't read Catching Fire, so maybe there is some outstanding reason that would blow my mind... but I didn't see that in The Hunger Games as a stand-alone novel.
The other aspect of the book I didn't like was pretty much only addressed at the very end of the book: Peeta and Katniss's relationship after the Hunger Games. Peeta loves Katniss? Katniss pro'lly does but is confused? Anger ensues?
Just once, I would like to see a YA book where there isn't a "who should I fall in love with? Xy boy or Yy boy?"
Not that I hate that part. I don't. Many of my favorite books have that in them.
But it felt forced in THG. Like, "oh, I guess I should stir up some drama between these two! Let's give Katniss a confused mind, which is likely, but then let's give Peeta a typical 'oh how wounded am I' reaction, and let's make Katniss's mouth freeze up the moment she says this. Because that's how it goes down in YA."
I just don't think it WOULD go down like that in real life, after they've been, you know, killing other people for a week or however long it is.
Of course, books don't have to follow real life. Or maybe that IS what would really happen. What do I know? I've never been in that position (thank God).
Still... it irked me a bitty bit.
the Hunger Games
Katniss's relationship with Peeta INSIDE the arena
the scene where *spoiler* Rue dies :(
Katniss's relationship with Peeta OUTSIDE the arena
The government being creepy and stupid
The last half of the last chapter of the book
Sorry. I feel like this post is disproportionate to how I actually feel about THG, because I really did like it. I guess Alex has already covered the pros of the book, so I'm discussing the cons? I dunno. Whatever.
All in all, The Hunger Games was pretty good, but I have no strong urge to read Catching Fire. :)
How does Katniss feel about the country of Panem? Why does she need to make her face "an indifferent mask" and be careful what she says in public?
Because it's the only way to survive? I think if you've grown up around the Hunger Games your entire life, there comes a point where you have to stop caring so much. With so much cruelty, it'd literally kill you if you started sobbing every time you saw something bad happen.
Still, I think she does care, as evidenced by the berry scene inside the Hunger Games, and the fact that she volunteered for the Games at all.
When I was reading this part, I definitely thought it was all a sneaky plot devised by Peeta and/or Haymitch to help the both of them survive. I thought Peeta might care about Katniss a little, but not as lovaaaahs.
However, in hindsight, that may have been true after all. I'm going with: that statement of Peeta's would have been more accurate at the end of the story than at the beginning. (Not that it should have been moved, because where it is greatly benefits the story - just that I think Peeta loves Katniss at the end, whereas at the beginning, he mostly just wanted to survive.)
I don't know about you, but I believe Peeta follows this philosophy of his quite well throughout his stay in the lovely little arena. It tells me that if people in real life think like this (and I like to think that many of us do), then there is hope for humanity after all.
Haymitch is a sneaky little mothertrucker, but in the best way possible. He wanted to keep them both alive, and I think he thought that the loverstory was the best way to do so. He's not stupid, I don't believe he would have expected that story alone to get them through, but it gave them that little edge they needed to pull a victory.
Are they actually in love? Hm... maybe. Depends what you mean by "love." There's definitely something there.
Gale or Peeta?
Don't know enough about Gale at all, so I'm going with Peeta. In that brief little Gale interlude, he seemed more like a friend than a boyfriend, so... I'll stick with that.
Oh geeze. Now I must flee for reals. I hope this didn't make you hate me, fellow bloggers... hehe. ;) <3
* Every time that Halloween is on a weekday, we get November 1st off for a teacher's "professional day" as well. We believe this is a sneaky/kindly way of legitimately giving us a chance to recover from Halloween. What can I say, sometimes MCPS actually does things right! :D