Friday, September 27, 2002
Yes, I know, I know, no blogging all week. But it was so busy! And I had so much work! And my brother spent way too much time on the computer, thus keeping me from getting online!
But now I am here. Celebrate, I say, celebrate.
We had something of an avian emergency in my backyard today. A rather large, innocent dove hit the window very very hard and landed on its back on the ground. I was watching it out the window, and it was moving its beak in a most heartbreakingly pathetic way, like it was trying to make a noise but couldn't. My mother was all in favor of leaving it alone until it died, because its neck was at a funny angle, so she thought that it was broken, and she didn't think it would last very long. But I was watching it lie there, helpless and prone, but I could tell that it was still very much alive, because I could see it blinking and its little throat gulping.
OK, so as you can imagine, I was fairly emotional at that point, eyes watering, voice quavering, etc., and I ran out back to see it up closer and see just how badly it was hurt. When I got up to it it turned its head around to look at me, so I could see that its neck was not broken. This meant that it would probably live for quite a while, and I most certainly did not want to leave it lying there on the ground, alive but unable to move, for whatever reason. No sir I did not. So I made my mother call the Animal Rescue League and they said they would send their little animal ambulance van deal over.
I stayed out back, watching the dove from a respectful distance, because ManEater was outside, and I'm sure that he would just love to get his dirty black paws on a poor, helpless dove. So I wanted to keep an eye on the bird, just in case that unholy terror got out of his yard (as he often does). The dove was still moving its head from time to time, and one of its legs kept on shaking in a way that was very pitiful to behold. But it wasn't paralyzed, because when my mother got too close to it at one point it started pumping its little legs in the air, and twisting its wings around alittle. So it was hurt, but it seemed like it had a chance of recovery, if it was treated.
Then the Animal Rescue League showed up. A very nice woman came around and she scooped up the bird in a blanket and put it in the van and told us that we could call tomorrow if we liked, to see how the bird was doing. She was very nice about it, and she was very nice to the dove, and I really like the Animal Rescue League now, and you should all give them lots of money.
Anyways, it all seems to have worked out in the best way that it could, under the circumstances. I know that if the dove is too badly hurt they'll have to put it to sleep, but I think that that is much better than it lying defenseless and frightened on the ground until something came along and ate it. I know that other animals have to eat, but if they eat doves, they do it quickly, killing the bird right off. They don't make it sit in the dirt for hours before they eat it, letting their prey agonize and shake in fear. Nothing should have to suffer like that.
So, I was very very very upset about the dove, but I do feel a lot better now that I know that it is getting the best possible treatment, and the most humane treatment that it could be give. I was all distraught and melancholy, following the unfortunate avian emergency, but the emergency was addressed and I really do think that the Animal Rescue League provides a necessary service in a quick, efficient, caring manner, and they deserve to be commended for it.
Their site is Animal Rescue League of Boston, if you would like to see just what they're all about.
Sorry to be all serious, and whatnot, but I am dead serious about critters getting hurt and getting better. They all ought to get better, especially if they're hurt by something manmade, like a window or a car. Heck, then it's practically our duty to help them get better. Nothing, no matter how insignificant an animal you think it is, nothing should be ignored and left to die a painful, pointless, preventable death.
OK, enough proselytizing for today.
Damn it. I have the hiccups. I hate it when this happens. Hiccups are so annoying and evil. Yes. Evil hiccups.
Should be in bed.... really tired... really, really, really tired...
You know how on Sunday night you go to bed maybe half an hour later than you should? And you wake up and think, "I'll make it up later." And then on Monday night you go to bed maybe half an hour later than you should. And on Tuesday night you do the same thing. And on Wednesday night. And on Thursday night. And then by Friday you wake up and you realize that by the end of the week all of those half hours have added up and multiplied, and you have lost precious hours of sleep and you're totally exhausted and you fall asleep in math class. That ever happen to you?
I mean... not that it ever happens to me, or anything... no, of course not! Ha ha. How silly. But I just thought... well, as a hypothetical situation of course.... that is, not speaking from experience, or anything... but wouldn't that really suck cauliflower popsicles?
And wouldn't cauliflower popsicles be really gross?
Finally, finally, the weather is getting nice! It is nice and cool out now! This is great! I love it! It is rapidly approaching the weather when I can start wearing gloves again. I like wearing gloves. My hands get cold easily, even if the rest of my is fairly cold-tolerant, and I dunno, I just like gloves. They're like paws. Paws are good.
In any event, I like this weather a whole lot. It also has the added advantage of getting a lot of the girls in my school who really shouldn't be wearing skimpy clothing out of the skimpy clothing, and into shirts that are less vile to behold. I appreciate the mostly non-vile nature of winter-wear. I have no need to see the unnaturally tanned abdomens (and thoraxes) of my fellow classmates in any weather. Not a thing I relish. Thus, winter is good.
But mostly it is good because the temperature finally gets wonderful, and I get happy. I am a lot happier when it starts to get cold out than I am during the summer. Bien sur.
Must go off the line, the stick-like brother demands quiet for his beauty sleep (a hopeless endeavor). But because I am, in all things (most things), courteous, I shall retire for the night.
Monday, September 23, 2002
The Sunday from Hell!
Let's just say that I had many papers to write, and a big test to study for, and I did it all in one day, and I didn't want to stay up late, so I was working all day with no breaks other than dining breaks. The evilness of this cannot be conceived.... unless, of course you are one of my classmates and you suffered through it with me.
That's all I'm going to say about the weekend. It's too painful to think about right now.
I can feel the college noose tightening around my neck. Can't you?
Today is painfully, oppressively humid. Not a fan of humidity. If you like humidity, you deserve to be punched in the schnozzola.
Wow, scary thing just happened! I was reaching around the computer to unplug my headphones (can't listen to my music when the devil-being is in the house, or he shrieks like a wounded harpy... but he has flown to tennis for now) and I knocked into the speaker. You see, the speaker is round. So when I knocked into it, it actually rolled. It almost rolled right off of the desk. But I grabbed it. And disaster was thus averted. But it gave me quite a scare.
They say that you learn best by teaching the material to someone else! Well, I sure need to learn. So I will proceed to teach you biology. You'll love it. I just know you will.
The nucleus! Enveloped in a double layer, with the intermediately fibrous nuclear lamina gracing the inner side! And you musn't forget the chromatin, or rather, the dense masses of DNA! Good times are had by all in the nucleolus, which is the nucleus of the nucleus!
We're going to skip the ribosomes, because they're just little protein factories, which are free or bound. Like slaves. Only ribosomes.
ENDOPLASMIC RETICULUM has a very tedious name. It has many cisternae (think cistern.. like a well, right?)... it is both rough (ooo, that rough reticulum! it's so good with the membranes... wow, that was dirty) and smooth (detoxifyingly smooooooth!).
The Golgi Apparatus... I don't know, when I first learned about this lovely little bundle of flattened sacs, it was called the Golgi Body. Apparently things have gotten more snooty and scientific. I still like to think of it in a bootilicious sense, though. It's got a cis and trans, and it's all bubbly and cool-looking. We call it a post office. You'd do well to refer to it in that sense, I think.
Lysosomes digest. Ooh my, but they are acidic! But basically, they digest.
Vacuoles are vacuous little bubbles of joy. They bring you food when you phagocytote. If you are a freshwater protist, they contract for you. If you are vegetative, they are big and central. With you couch potatoes, they are trashy, red and blue, poisonous, and sometimes they will elongate. But only when you're ready.
Mighty Mitochondria! Their cristae fold and make a matrix! But, alas, they are excluded from the exclusive endomembrane club. Those prissy little endomembrane bastards. But even without them, the Mighty Mitochondria toils on! It respirates, cellularly, of course. ATP is its very bestest friend. The energy that Mighty Mitochondria has is simply astounding!
The green and glorious chloroplast has 2 magnificent membranes filled with a squishilous liquid of the stromatic type. That is to say, stroma. It holds it's poker chips in a pile of thylakoids. Each poker chip pile is a grana. Granum? Singular, plural, quoiever. In any event, it is not a starchy amyloplast, and it is not a jaundiced chromoplast. It is a warmly verdant chloroplast!
Peroxisomes make hydrogen peroxide. Easy enough, I suppose. But since they make hydrogen peroxide, they must also clean up their filthy little mess. With enzymatic cleaner, of course. They use their enzymatic cleaner on many things, like alcohol in the liver... they take away the hydrogen of those unhealthful substances! Some of them are known by another name (ooo, so James Bond!)... glyoxysome. They turn those silly fatty acids into even sillier sugar... so plants can grow and grow and grow, even before they get their green photosynthesizin' act together! In seeds, I mean. Hooray for peroxisomes!
Now here is where it gets hairy. This stuff wasn't in middle school, or freshman year. This stuff is brand spanking new (well, maybe not spanking. we hope not) and it's teething. That's right. This information, my friends, is teething. And it's teething on my brain. And it hurts like the dickens, my friends, it hurts like the dickens.
The cytoskeleton. There are microtubules (think, little tubes) made of tubulin (yes, creative naming, scientists!) which hold up the cell, move the cell with marvelously motile motor molecules (AKA dyenins, powered by ATP), inhabit cilia and flagella (Liz does not like the word 'flagella'), and play the role of monorail for organelles, namely, those vacuous vacuoles.
There are microfilaments (think, little threads) of a globular (great word) protein known in certain circles as actin. These little buggers make the outer cytoplasmic layer a nice, soothing gel. They make ze contraction of ze muscles. The pseudopodia of an amœba would have no motion without a little microfilament action! They make blood cells that are white move here, there, and everywhere. Oh yes, and they are responsible for that fascinating phenomenon (not really) known fondly as cytoplasmic streaming.
There are intermediate filaments (think, threads bigger than microfilaments, but smaller than microtubules) that are not transients like the previous two! Oh no, the intermediate filament is no fair weather friend! He is with you through thin and thick! He holds you together like nothing else!
Only plants are priviledged enough to have a cell wall. I wish we had 'em! Anyways, this here wall is bricked up with only the finest polysaccharide cellulose microfibrils (remember, kiddies, cellulose is a plant schtick!). It has 3 parts: a primary cell wall (first in excellence, first in flexibility!), a middle lamella (mmm, lamella. sticky little pectins hold you cells togetha 4 eva), and a secondary cell wall (lying betwixt and between the primary cell wall and the dinky little plasma membrane, this fellow knows no rival in sheer strength! the more of him there is, the stronger he gets. duh).
Oh yes, and musn't forget the plasmodesmata (plaz-moe-dezz-mah-tah). These be wee little holes, laddie, and these be sitting in the midst of two big blarney cells. They lets the cytoplasm be continuous, they does.
And then, if you're a po' little animal, with no cell wall to call your own, we come to the extracellular matrix. It isn't 'extracellular' because it's extra cool... it's not. It's just 'extra' outside the cell. It's terribly complicated looking, with all sorts of shapes meshing together and I sure can't make heads nor tails of it. But it's all just GLYCOPROTEINS, which are proteins covalently bonded to carbohydrates, naturally.
And the extracellular matrix glycoproteins are! Ms. Collagen, a whopping 1/2 of all the protein in human beings! Ms. Collagen forms some very strong fibers outside of the cell, so let's all have a nice round of applause for Ms. Collagen!
Our next glycoprotein is Ms. Proteoglycan, who is the richest glycoprotein here today... rich in carbohydrates, of course! Ha ha ha! No, but seriously folks, she's sometimes 95% carbs, and Ms. Collagen is anchored by her, so let's give her a round of applause!
Next we have Ms. Fibronectin! Ms. Fibronectin doesn't do a blessed thing so far as we can see, other than bind cells to poor, beleaguered Ms. Integrin, so let's all give it up for Ms. Fibronectin but let's admit it, folks, she ain't winning a dern thing here today!
Last, but certainly not least, we have Ms. Integrin! She spans the whole cell membrane, folks, and that's impressive! On her cytoplasmic side she wears an elegant set of microfilaments connected to the cytoskeleton. Being a bunch of receptor proteins built into the plasma membrane, she sometimes has a hard time relating to freeer cell components. But she has overcome all that adversity to transmit messages between the interior and exterior of the cell! A real trooper! Let's all give a hand to the lovely Ms. Integrin!!
Now that the glycoprotein pageant is over, we can turn our rapidly waning attention to the Conjunction Junction, what's your function? Ha, no, I wish... actually, we're at the intercellular junctions. There are three kinds, and none of them make any sense, at least they don't with this picture I'm looking at here, but you can't see the picture. So maybe you won't be so confused. Well. Here be monsters:
The tight junctions. They're tight because they wear belts that are too small for them. No, they really make belts that go all around a cell, and boy o boy, do they ever fuse tight!
The desmosomes. They're like rivets, only the picture I have doesn't look anything like a rivet. Nothing at all. Well, they're the anchoring junctions (whatever that means), and they've got keratin to reinforce them, so I suppose that's good.
The gap junctions. Not a clothing store, these are actually the exact same thing as plasmodesmata, only in animal cells. So far as I can tell. If there's a difference, I haven't learned it yet.
You just learned my whole biology chapter!!
Yes, yes, you can thank me later.
Well, now I don't have to study for my test. I count that as studying.
Hope you all learned something new and important today!
Hee hee hee... MWAH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!! (<--- evil laugh, in case you couldn't tell)
And the winner of the glycoprotein pageant is.... exergonic! It has nothing to do with this chapter! But it's such a great word! Ecks-er-gone-ick. Incredible. I just love saying it. Exergonic! Exergonic!
Saturday, September 21, 2002
Printer ink, o printer ink. How I adore thee.
Today la famille went out for dinner (Cilantro). There was a family sitting behind us. The old guy and a woman were having a conversation.
The old guy asked "Who's the most famous soccer player in the world?"
"Pélé," the woman said.
There was also a small child (10? perhaps). The small child apparently played soccer.
"Honey, why don't you tell grandpa what your favorite position is?" the mother said.
"I like right foward."
"You don't like left foward?"
"I like right better, but I am better at left."
The child thought about it. "No."
Other families are weird, but they sure are fun to listen to.
My throat itches.
Well, I spent today downloading and printing out college applications. Whoop de doo. Fun times. I hate college already.
Last night me, Jess, Steph and Liz went to the mall/batting cages/driving range. It was very fun. I got to hit a bucket of balls (hee hee hee). We were going to do something else but the times ended up being rather awkward. But a good time was had in any event.
Not sure if I posted the address for this site already... well, here you go, just in case I didn't. It is 0format. The essays on it are incredibly amusing to read, if you like reading funny things online that don't necessarily make a lot of sense. If you got a kick out of Death to the Extremist you'll probably find these worth your while.
Alors.... don't much feel like saying anything more.
Friday, September 20, 2002
Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
Apparently, my ability to look at a page of a story in french and read it aloud in english is unusual. I really didn't think that it was. I mean, doesn't everyone do that?
Yesterday I saw a GREAT BLUE HERON!!! It was awesome! It was so cool and regal looking! It was standing in a pond in Marblehead. It was very tall and it kept curling and uncurling its long neck. It walked with very slow, deliberate steps. Wow. Great blue heron. Gloriousness!
Also glorious: guess what was growing near the heron pond? BAMBOO! I didn't think that it would grow here in temperate MA, but I suppose that it does, because there I was in Marblehead, staring blankly at a little bamboo grove! Holy cats! There were some sticks on the ground. I picked one up and when I untangled it from all the others and got it up in the air, it was about 10 feet long. I tried to break it in half, but bamboo is strong stuff! I could barely bend it! Anyways, it was very interesting, and all.
yet another topic i've exhausted
with no regrets*
Two papers to write and one large test to study for this weekend. Great. Just great. Wonderful. I hate school.
I also need to download some college applications.
Perhaps I should go do that now.
I rather think that I will.
Again, I ask you: quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
Wednesday, September 18, 2002
Today in psych class we learned that the incentive of money causes the screwing to occur more quickly.
After school we were muraling (muralling?) and an announcement came on. It sounded like Mr. York. He said, "Would the two young women from Missouri who are staying at Mr. Rattley's house please come to the office?"
Corey, Rebecca and I looked at each other and started nervously laughing. I mean, what are you supposed to think when you hear something like that? Mr. Rattley has young women staying at his house? And these are the two from Missouri, not the two from Iowa, or the two from Texas. It was freaky, yet also amusing. You would think that Mr. York would say something like, "Would Mr. Rattley's two visitors please come to the office?" Wow. It was incredible.
Oh yes, and I forget, the last site on the CatLinks non-Music section is brand-smackin' new. It's the newly created blog of my MassArtoffuluss buddy Eva. If you don't know Eva you may not be amused. On the other hand, if you do know Eva, I think that you will derive much joy from it.
Had a fire drill today. It was during study hall, of all things! How evil! And what made it worse was the fact that I had math the very next period. If only they could have waited 45 minutes! But no, I must waste my study hall milling around outside, and laughing at Kate as she slid gracelessly down the steep hill on her bottom. Well, that was kind of funny. But still, I would much rather it had happened during math. You know.
I completely fell asleep in math today. It was really, really scary. You see, I had been kind of struggling to stay awake, but I thought I could do it.. I leaned on my hand and rested my eyes for just a second... .the next thing I know Meredith is hissing my name and I am starting up out of a very sound sleep. I was sitting up, thank cats, so the teacher didn't notice. But I was entirely asleep. It was really frightening. The worst bit was, it wasn't the class. I mean, yes, math is pretty boring. But it wasn't the math. It was the time. I just got really tired that time of day. Ay gavult. I need to get more sleep.
At night, I mean.
Huge, 2 period biology test today. *shudder* But the teacher gave us all Munchkins and lollipops, so it all balanced out in the end.
*used to be the owner of the world
now he's just another man
who used to be the owner of the world*
Hm. Gotta run. Things to do, people to see, Internet to utilize.
Tuesday, September 17, 2002
I was just thinking...
I had an idea of what I wanted to write in here. I got this idea sometime in the middle of school... and with my usual diligence I utterly failed to write it down. At the time I was, of course, certain that I would remember it. Isn't that the way that is always is? Well, I forgot. Duh.
Anyways, the point is, this happens alot. I get this really great idea for a blog, or something awesomely perfect for the blog happens, and then I forget it and you lovely readers never get to hear about it. Alas. Tough kitty kibble for you.
I suppose that the moral of that story is- Write down your good ideas! Unfortunately, I am a lazy bum, so that particular moral is not going to be followed any time soon.
30 Seconds to Mars! I love you!
O, and that reminds me! MY NAME IS GOING TO MARS!!!! Seriously! NASA has this program where you can sign up, and they'll put your name on a CD that is going to be on the next Rover mission to Mars! I signed up! So now my name is going to Mars! Isn't that incredible?!?!?! I mean, it's not as though any other part of me is ever going to get there, so the dorky part of my brain is very excited about this. Come on! Mars! My name! It's wicked cool!
I even got a certificate and everything, saying that my
Deep and inscrutable singular Name.
is going to Mars. Gloriousness unbounded!
(Yes, I know, TS Eliot is spinning in his grave)
Erm.... O dear.... there were other thoughts that I meant to impart... but now I am a-blanking....
... should be studying for biology... not doing so... well, I've kind of resigned myself to failure anyways... if there is anyone out there who understands metabolic catabolism, I would love to meet them. Unfortunately, I have yet to do so.
My locker continues in it's battle with my fingers. Every time I reach in for a book, you can bet your shiny new nickel that my hand is going to come out scratched. People say, "Well gee, why don't you just tape up the sharp bit?" I say, to them, "I don't know what freaking part is scratching me! I don't see any sharp part. No matter where I put my hand, it gets eaten by the catdamned locker!" It's starting to get just a little tedious. The injuries thus far have ranged from minor scratches to fairly prominent gouges. Thank cats for tetanus shots. The locker may be intent upon my destruction, but I shall thwart it's evil plans, time and time again.
Such is my destiny.
Hmm. I told Helene that I would see what I could do about fixing the archiving. But I do not really feel like dealing with the archiving just now. Another time, perhaps. Another day (no day but today!).
Muralation on the morrow.
Hung up some new stuff in my room. This is part of a laborious cleaning process. You see, I get the artwork off of the floor, and stick it on the wall. It makes the room look more cluttered, with all that crud on the walls, but at least it's easier to walk now.
I would like to reiterate my love of Edward Gorey. He is my pen-and-ink savior in a land full of painters.
Another Yom Kippur come and gone. I feel no sadness.
OK, I really need to study that bio. Freaking first period tomorrow, it is. That's evilness. A double lab test! 90 minutes for 60 multiple choice and 2 essays. And none of it will be easy. Still....
I feel better taking bio than I would taking evironmental science. Much better.
I enjoy my real, non-lazy-ass-slacker science, thank you very much.
Sunday, September 15, 2002
Saw the Sopranos season opener tonight.
"It's interesting, y'know... there's the hunchback of Notre Dame, and also the half-back of Notre Dame, and the quarterback of Notre Dame... c'mon, you can't tell me you've never pondered that before."
Anyways, it was a good episode.
Yom Kippur tomorrow. Good luck, everyone out there fasting.
And please, someone make an offer to kidnap Helene. We would all be ever so amused to see her parents thus vindicated.
The eye of Andrew Jackson knows all.
Saturday, September 14, 2002
Willya lookit this?? Three posts in one day! It's like a miracle.
OK, a couple of slightly belated birthday greetings... Amy's birthday was yesterday. Happy birthday, Amy! Babo's birthday was the 11th. Happy birthday, Babo!
I just wanted to let you all that my family went to Legal Sea Foods tonight. According to the sign, it is now officially Legal Oods. Mmm. Oods. Anyways, for dinner, my mother had banana slices in marinara sauce. She claimed that they were scallops, but I swear they were banana slices. They didn't look a thing like scallops, and they looked everything like banana slices.
I finally found a psych article. The only thing is, I printed it out, and it's 17 pages long. It didn't look that long on the website, but I suppose that may have been somewhat deceiving.
division will unite*
If you are online and really, really bored, why not go to HoldTheButton.com?
Little brother has left the building. I am overjoyed.
My hands smell like lemons.
Went into the Mac store in the mall today. I love that store. Infinite glory. They had a pen tablet thingy (6 x 8), but it wasn't hooked up to anything, so I couldn't play with it.
One of their Powerbooks had Paint 7 on it, so I was mucking around with that. It's a really, really good program. I would love to have it on my computer. Alas, it is rather expensive. Anyways, I drew an eye, and left it on the computer. It wasn't very good, 'cause you may not know it, but it's really hard to draw with a laptop touchpad. I certainly hadn't realized it. I mean, I can't draw very well with a mouse either, but the touchpad was even worse.
I guess I could get better if I did more drawing on the computer with the mouse, but I much prefer working by hand. So I don't get any practice in. Hence my desire for a pen tablet.
Hence and Nonce are both very nice words.
Last night me, Jess and Liz went to the batting cages and the driving range. The batting cage was an utter disaster for me. I suppose that the only good thing about it was that it reminded me exactly why I do not play softball. The driving range was much more fun, because I could actually hit the ball, and it would got places. It didn't go as far as Liz's (she was hitting them all the way out to the fence!), but it went farther than Jessica's. Jess was hitting them kind of funny, they would go a ways, but they would sort of skim the ground, instead of getting up in the air.
Then we played ping pong at my house. At this point, Liz had drunk two (yes, two) energy drinks in a very short period time, plus a bag of Swedish fish and two rolls of Mentos. Her hyperness cannot be conceived unless you had seen it. I mean, we're talking jumping around, tapping everything, and, scariest of all, jerking the car all over the road. I was terrified.
After the first drink, when we were driving out to the batting cages, Liz's hyperness had made Jess hyper, and we were passing the lovely Salem State campus, and there was a sign for the play Oedipus. Jessica starts screaming, "Oedipus!!! OEDIPUS!! OEDIPUS!!! FIELD TRIP!!!" Liz was kind of driving along, grinning spastically and tapping the steering wheel, and then all of a sudden she notices the sign too, and she screams, "O my god! OEDIPUS!" and stops the car in the middle of the road in order whirl around in her seat and look at the sign and scream, "I didn't see it before! I thought you were just yelling 'Oedipus!'!! But there it is! OEDIPUS!!" Thank cats there was no one behind us.
Anyways, that was on one energy drink. I leave her behavior after 2 to your own imagination.
*dirtybird never lose that feeling*
Got my slides back. They look like they came out pretty gloriously. But, I mean, how can you really tell? I've got 4 copies of each in different exposures, but I can't really tell on the slides which one looks better. How am I supposed to pick without actually putting them in a slide projector? Does anyone know??
Tomorrow night is the Sopranos season premier! I am very excited! I love that show! Six Feet Under too... I'm not sure which one I like better, they're both so very wonderous. I don't watch Sex in the City. Two HBO shows is enough for me.
*when you see me walking miles away
but someone has to pay*
The Run Lola Run soundtrack is really good, in keeping with the magnificence of the movie. At first all of the songs sounded alike, but now that I've listened to it a number of times I can tell them apart, and I like the vast majority of them.
I started thinking about Run Lola Run. I do believe that it is one of my all-time favorite movies. What are the others? Yeah, I know you care so much, but tough toots. I shall tell you anyways.
-Run Lola Run
-Best in Show
-Lord of the Rings
-Being John Malkovich
-Shakespeare in Love
I think that's about it. There may be a few more that I'm just blanking on right now, but that's the sum of it that I can bring to mind at this particular moment in time.
Freakiest movies I have ever seen?
-Requiem for a Dream
-Man Bites Dog
Best quotes from movies that I actually remember?
"On really romantic evenings of self, I go salsa dancing with my confusion." -Waking Life
"His name is Babe... Babe Magnet." -Chulsky, in e-love
That's enough movie stuff for now.
Slog, slog, slog. Through a bog.
Perhaps I ought to go attend to my math homework.
Well, perhaps not.
Just got The Watchmen. It won a Hugo award, and when I first got it I thought to myself, "What comic book wins a literary award?" Then I read it. Then I realized why it had won a major literary award. Wow. It was so incredible that it almost defies explanation. I mean... it seems at first like just another superhero comic, but it really is just as much a regular superhero comic as Maus or Ghost World is. That is to say, not at all.
I read the whole thing in one day, and then I read it over again, and again. Each time I got more subtleties out of it, both in the writing and the illustrations. The only complaint that I have is with the coloring, which, quite frankly, sucks. But the rest of it makes up for that. More than makes up for it. I don't care if you think comic books are stupid. You need to read The Watchmen. It is, so far as I can see, a major literary landmark. In-freaking-credible.
Alright. I've ranted and raved enough for one day. Three posts!
Oh yes, and just in case you care, my cold appears to have gotten better. No thanks to Noah, who I think infected me.
Dirty, dirty Noah.
I'm certain I've mentioned guimp.com on here at some point in the past.
In any event, they now have a blog!
In case you did not know, guimp.com claims to be the World's Smallest Website. I have yet to find any reason to dispute their claims.
If you go to the Flash section of their site, you can play all kinds of cool games, like miniature pong, pinball, and soccer.
But if you go to the HTML section, you can read their blog!
I'll admit it isn't much, just the date and a new site every day for you to visit, but hey! That's more actual content then you'll get in a lot of blogs!
This one, for example.
Wednesday, September 11, 2002
You know what? I reread that last post. Did you realize that I used the word 'screw' twice in one sentence. That's probably a record for me. A sad, sad record, but a record nonetheless.
I have a cold. It is making me miserable. I really cannot abide being sick, no more than I can abide being hot. And, as you all know, I can abide being hot not at all.
OK... I know that every blog in the world is probably going to be doing September 11th stuff today, but I feel kind of like I ought to. If you really don't want to hear about it anymore, just skip it. There'll be other stuff after it. I promise I won't make this whole thing a 9/11 blog.
September 11th...hm. It does and it doesn't feel like a year. I mean, I can remember exactly where I was and what I was doing that day last year. I remember it was second period, my half-year painting class, when I first heard anything about it... Mrs. Balliro came in from the office with this utterly shocked expression on her face, telling us that a plane had hit one of the World Trade Center buildings... at that point no one in the class could understand why she was so shocked, because we all thought it was just an accident.
I remember sitting in French class with Madame Shanahan listening to that little radio she got from somewhere...all the reports were confused, and no one was sure exactly how many planes had crashed, and the numbers kept on going up and then back down... we heard about the one that crashed in Philadelphia on that radio. I remember Maura coming into French from the hall and telling us that one had hit the Pentagon.
I remember being really mad at Mr. Maccarone, because we had a double lab that day, and he made us do the lab. Later, of course, no one was mad at him, but we were all pretty confused and rather irked at the time.
I remember Mr. Shapiro telling us that everyone in the history department should be following the events of that day, because, like it or not, we were living history right now. I don't think I realized at the time just how right he was. Of course, Mr. Shapiro was usually right, but, at the time, it just didn't strike me how particularily right he was on that count.
Then, of course, I remember going home and sitting in front of the TV in my kitchen and drawing that picture... which now I kind of wish I hadn't drawn because people keep on bugging me to give them copies. Why would anyone want a copy of that? It's depressing... I don't know, I get kind of uncomfortable when I look at it now. See, I usually take the surrealist approach to drawing, which is 'Screw you, symbolism! I'm gonna draw this freaky, weird thing and it isn't going to have a dern-tootin' symbol in it!', but this drawing is obviously heavy on the symbolism...
I don't know, I guess in a way I'm glad I drew it, because that's my way of dealing, you know? Get it all out right then, when I'm sitting there watching the TV, and then just move on... but I still think it's not a picture you want to be looking at all the time. I certainly don't.
Then, of course, I remember being terribly worried about Leslie, because the reports that day were inflated all over the place (which is understandable, given the circumstances... how could anyone expect cooly detatched reporting?). From what we were seeing and hearing, everyone in New York was in danger... but then I heard from her and all was well in that regard.
Anyways. That's the second time today I've rehashed September 11th. That's quite enough for me.
*pause while I regroup my thoughts and regain a more jovial tone*
On a lighter note! 30 Seconds to Mars! In-freaking-credible! I love it! Love! It! Go buy it! Go hear the songs... they only play Capricorn on the radio around here, but pretty much everything else on the CD is glorious listening as well! I will put up their site link on the side when I feel like it. Eventually. Patience, my pet, patience.
Very windy out. Suddenly I hear the shouts of *gasp* small children. I stand up to look out the window. There are two smallish girls, probably aged somewhere around 7. They are walking arm-in-arm down the street. They both have brown hair that whips around in the strong wind. They are laughing and straining against the wind to make their way down the street. I know, I know, me and small children, but hey, they're outside, and I'm inside, so I can regard them with artistic detatchment, rather than powerful dislike.
There they go again. Second time around. Hm.
It had better cool down for tomorrow. I mean it. If it isn't any cooler tomorrow, someone's going to pay. I'm not sure who yet, but someone will pay. They will pay.
Sigh. Once again there is math homework to be done. Once again I am not doing it. I hate math homework. I think that it makes my cold worse. Somehow, whenever I start doing those stupid problems, my nose just gets runnier, and I have to get more tissues, and the work gets slower. Argh. A vicious cycle of noses and tissues and math problems.
Today in French class Stephanie said, "Robert, tu parles trop et tu dis des bêtises. Je te demande de te laver le visage tout de suite." Everyone in the class started laughing, but Stephanie was momentarily confused. In case you are unacquainted with french, that means, "Robert, you talk too much and you say stupid things. I demand that you wash your face right away." It made no sense and was therefore amusing.
Also in French class, a certain person who asked not to be named made the following statements:
"Get away, or I'll strike you down!!"
"Maura, you're a frito!" (This refers to the fact that this anonymous person believes that Maura is 'fried out', and is in the crash-and-burn phase of her high school career. Is she? With those sleeping habits, who knows?)
French class yields many good quotes.
Must run, the nose is running on ahead.
Monday, September 09, 2002
Beastly hot in school today. What's up with that?? I thought that summer was over! I thought that I didn't have to deal with that sort of thing anymore!!
Why, I ask you, why o why, why is the weather determined to screw me up and screw me over??
And the stupid short story that I was supposed to read wasn't in the stupid english book!! Stupid, stupid, stupid! (we're into repetition today. apparently we are also into the royal 'we' today. we love the royal 'we'.) How can she not have noticed that an edition of the english book that fully half the class has does not have the assigned reading in it?? Thankfully Noah got the book from Dave, and I in turn mooched off of Noah, so all is well and I can sleep assured that I have done my homework like a good diligent little student.
My psych teacher said that she would email us our syllabus today. So far, this is a lie. A dirty, dirty lie. We know that you love that repitition. It's to prove a point, you know.
I suggest that you check out Moby.com. It is a very nicely done site. I highly suggest that you read Moby's daily journal things. They are very well written and they are just like a little blog. Being a usually-daily blogger myself, I enjoy Moby's dedication to his daily public journaling. You should enjoy it too. Anyways, I'll link the side up on the side with the other music sites just as soon as I get my act together and screw up my courage to muck about in the HTML of this joyous little site.
Must be off the line before 9. This I did promise my little brother. Well, so sue me. I was having a fit of good will towards all creatures subhuman.
Got my pictures back. Yippee! Hooray! I know that you're dancing in the streets, you're just to embarrassed to tell anyone. There are some nice ones in there. The end of MassArt, you know. And also, people sitting in a tree that looks like a giant gray wooden octopus, waving it's thick arms about in the black night air, holding up people. It's kinda cool. There are also a couple of glorious shots of all the Newton Rosh Hashana joy.
If you would like me to email you a picture (since I do have a scanner, and all), let me know. You are requested to let me know at my letting-know address, that being email@example.com.
I went outside tonight. It was dark and the air was heavy and warm. The slow-moving air currents tugged a thick, hebetudinous perfume around my head like a woolen blanket. I looked up at the dark purple clusters of tiny flowers and felt, rather than smelled, the scent emanating from them. It is always surprising how such small and delicate-seeming petals can house such a powerful and all-consuming aroma within their thin, silky grasp.
*i would stand in line for this*
Sunday, September 08, 2002
Temple today was, shall we say, exciting. The same guy who collapsed at Yom Kippur last year collapsed this year. Much ruckus. Of course, half the congregation are doctors, so it's not as though he was without medical attention. The paramedics had to be called, and they wheeled him out, and eventually order was restored. Eventually.
The shofar today was blown by the temple president. It was, without a doubt, the worst shofar blowing I have ever heard. I mean, jeez, I know it's hard and all, but usually we have someone pretty good up there. This guy was just pathetic. He especially choked on the teruahs. There were whole long sections where there was no horn sound at all, just all these pathetic little blowing noises. There were people laughing out loud. It was very, very sad.
At least he managed to have a sense of humor about it. At the start of his little speech afterwards, he said "Well, now you all see why I didn't get that scholarship from Berkley". People laughed, and felt a little less bad for laughing at him before, while he was actually attempting to sound the damn thing.
I got to leave early to watch the football game, as I told you I would. The Lions lost, of course... there were some plays in there that were almost unspeakably bad... at one point the Lions were receiving a kick-off, and one of them was offsides. Offsides. On a kick-off return. He went the wrong way, see. It was sad. Sad, sad, sad.
Sing in the trees, dance in the fields.
I got some great stuff for the old b'day! Leslie sent me catnip, which I am very excited to begin cultivating. I got 4 new CDs... the old Sheila Divine one, the new Moby one, 30 Seconds to Mars, and the Run Lola Run soundtrack. All seem quite glorious, and since I got 4 at once I won't get sick of them quickly at all.
I still have not gotten sick of the Tinstar CD. Awesomeness incarnate.
Damn math homework. Damn it straight to it's own personal little Hell. I mean, really, who assigns math homework over a major Jewish holiday? Evil people, that's who.
It's supposed to be incredibly hot out tomorrow. I really do not relish that thought. You know my opinion of heat. It's right up there with small children. I hate the heat. It's going to be miserable in school tomorrow. I may have to refuse to learn, because of the heat. Also because tomorrow is a double lab, and I don't like those. They make me irritable. The heat makes me angry. My classmates tomorrow had better watch out, 'cause I'm gonna be in a meeeeeaaaaann mood!
Why can't it just be winter already?? I know I'm starting to sound like a broken record on that one, but it's really starting to piss. me. off. I deserve a little cold weather here. I've suffered enough. Let there be snow, I say, and I shall be happy again.
Catdamned math homework. Gotta go deal with it before it sneaks out of my room, wraps itself around my neck, and administers a final, killing paper cut. I will go kill it now by finishing it. I will pull it's diabolical fangs.
Die, math homework! Die!
Saturday, September 07, 2002
ok. woke up early for temple today. very tired. so no caps for you. maybe no punctuation further down, if my mind deteriorates further. we shall see.
temple. yup. 10-1. yup. i got really tired near the end, not to mention hungry, not to mention really angry at my shoes (i hate freaking dress shoes). thankfully, jess stuck with me and shared in my agony. our little brothers both wimped out early, the spineless creatures that they are. the rabbi gave a sermon about some old guy giving out pieces of his heart to people he loved, leaving these empty gouges behind, and throughout the whole thing i kept on visualizing an actual heart with gouges and pieces in it from other people's hearts (which was supposed to represent love that was received, or something), so instead of being really moved by the sermon, i was just really, really grossed out. alas.
the temple president made a speech about the word 'jubilee' and i was reminded of the south park (great show) episode where kyle went to the jewish camp 'jewbilee'. a good episode, in which moses was imprisoned in the conch shell of blind faith, and when moses was freed he demanded macaroni pictures. anyways, the president made reference, in an attempt at humor, to cherries jubilee. this cracked up my dad, and also the rabbi, who rolled around with mirth on the bimah behind the podium. it was very undignified looking. the dessert joke really wasn't all that funny, but the rabbi's reaction was. my dad just laughed really loudly and my mother had to shush him.
o yes, i nearly forgot. he was talking about 'jubilee' because originally it meant something to do with a 50th anniversary celebration, and this year is the 50th anniversary of the founding of our temple. or the building of it. or something. anyways, just so you know that the temple president doesn't make sermons based on some random word he picks out of a dictionary every year, or something. although that might be kind of cool.
tomorrow i'm going to temple again, but i get to leave early because the lions/dolphins game is on, and i simply must watch it.
today is dave's birthday. happy birthday, dave!
last night we went to newton. it was fun, as usual. my aunt phyllis had many amusing anecdotes to relate. she seems to have an inexhaustible supply of these. anyways, we played the annual game of 'who's gay?'. this consists of someone naming an actor, athlete, etc. that they think is gay. the alleged gayness of this person is then debated around the table. this year mike piazza was the object of contention. there was also a mild uproar over some guy on the love boat who turned out to be gay, but i kind of tuned that out because, hey, man, that was before my time.
'who's gay?' was supplemented this year by 'who's jewish?'. this consisted of phyllis referring to a baseball player on some team who was jewish, but didn't have a jewish-sounding name. then the baseball aficianados at the table (my dad, eli, my dad's cousin ed, and his kids jeremy and alex) tried to think of the name of this player. they hit on it eventually by just going through the roster of the team, since apparently they have the entire rosters of all baseball teams in their minds. scary. anyways, when they finally got the right guy, they were shocked to discover that he was actually a good player. not too many skillful jewish athletes these days. i give you jay fiedler.
we had really good chicken. i am afraid that the same could not be said for the gefilte fish, which was white and dry. it looked like a matzoh ball, but it definitely smelled fishy. weirdo gefilte fish. but jessica said her grandmother got them gefilte fish out of an economy can from costco, so i guess i shouldn't complain.
miriam was there, but not her husband dan. he was hiking, or camping, or climbing, or something out in some national park that i now forget, yosemite or yellowstone. or something.
leah and ed are going to play a tennis match. ed used to be really good, apparently, but i hear that he has not played in a while. leah has been playing a lot recently. so it ought to be interesting. i look foward to hearing about the results. beth was betting on ed, citing, i suppose, more experience, and also more powerful hitting. but one never knows who's going to choke out there. the tennis court can be a deadly, deadly place.
then again, you could subscribe to my own peculiar tennis philosophy, in which every hit is a volley. forehand? hit it like a volley. backhand? hit it like a volley. volley? hit it like a volley. as i'm sure you can tell, i am just truly masterful at tennis.
what would i like to do for my birthday? well, the only thing that i would really like to do is *not homework*. unfortunately, this is not to be. i have reams of math homework, and lord only knows what else i have to do. *sniff* i am most upset. most upset.
there was a very long post-temple luncheon at jess's today. we discussed colleges. i am really getting sick of colleges. i don't even want to think about it, really, anymore. you see, the more i think about it, the more depressed i get about my ability to get into college (or lack thereof). not a very pleasant thing to dwell upon.
i finally finished that stupid roll of film!! yes!! i feel ever so much better now. massart people, as soon as i get it back (monday) and as soon as i can get scanner time (hopefully shortly thereafter), i will of course send you some. you will love and cherish them forever. for ever.
well, i know that there's more to say, but i entirely forget what i had in mind. a symptom of exhaustion. sigh. i'll tell you all tomorrow if i get anything particularily interesting for my birthday. i rather hope that i do.
anyways, happy new years, everyone! hope that you all have a happy and healthy 5763!
Thursday, September 05, 2002
I must sleep soon if I am to awaken tomorrow at the properly designated hour. Therefore, this will be a short blog. I promise.
I watched the Mass democratic gubernatorial debate tonight. It was kinda sad. It was just way too tame, and the various little bits of political 'trickery' used by the candidates on camera were painfully obvious. I sort of liked the little guy, though... Robert Reich, I think his name is? His sense of humor, at least, didn't seem to be canned.
Birmingham (I think that's his name) was genial enough, but he had this incredibly bizarre and frightening smile at the very beginning that made me wary of him for the rest of the time. Tolman was like a broken record stuck on 'clean elections'. I really did not like O'Brien at all. She didn't answer any of the questions they asked her. People kept on asking her what she would do, and she kept on saying what she did do. It's as though she has no stand on current political issues, she just wants you to see what she's already done.
Playing with my scanner. Ah, the joy. The fun. It is neverending.
I'm heading out to Newton tomorrow for Rosh Hashana. It ought to be interesting. I can almost guarantee that I will have some tales of high amusement value to relate herein after I get home. If I can get on the computer then. Which is unlikely. But I will tell you my future stories eventually, as soon as I can kick my heinous little brother off the computer.
My english teacher decided to cancel all of our summer reading tests because she got fed up with the fact that they weren't ready yet. So now we don't have to take them. I am quite pleased about this turn of events.
If you have three doors, and two have goats behind them, and one has a car, and you pick one, and then one that you didn't pick is opened to show a goat, so you know that of the two doors left one hides a goat and the other hides a car, would you stay with your original choice or would you like to switch? Well, if you switch you have a 2/3 chance of getting the car.
Don't ask me why, I personally think that there's something fishy at the heart of the problem, but the rest of the world (excepting Maura and Maddie, who share my skepticism) seems to take this as incontrovertible fact. We debated the answer during two classes (psych and french) and still I am undecided.
The time for sleep has come creeping up upon us like a cat needing to use the litter box in the dead of night.
Thus, I end.
Wednesday, September 04, 2002
It is so very nice to be blogging, rather than, say, taking the psychology notes I really ought to be taking, or going over my summer reading for the tests tomorrow. I know perfectly well that procrastination is bad. But oh! it feels sooooo good!
Today in study hall, Kate, Kate, Kate and I made a new friend. His name is Ren.
And yes, I do, in fact, mean 3 Kates.
Searching for a certain email... nowhere to be found... I hate it when this happens! Ever so frustrating.
Optical mice are cool little critters.
The brand new Marblehead High School is under fire already. See, they put up all these cheesy and really expensive 'public art' stone carving things. One of them is supposed to depict some black soldier from Marblehead who fought in the Civil War, or the Revolutionary War, or something. The only problem is, the artist did it so that the guy looks like a monkey. I mean, he really, really looks like a monkey. He's got this terrible, long, flat nose... and oy, it's just awful. Anyways, a lot of people are pretty pissed, and rightfully so. They showed the thing on the news. It really couldn't be interpreted as anything else. It's just really, really bad.
See what happens! Marblehead pays hundreds of thousands of dollars (no joke!) for artwork that is terrible and gets them in trouble. Swampscott pays nothing and gets a beautiful, extensive, non-offensive mural, courtesy of Corey, Rebecca and I. Now, I'm not saying that Swampscott High is better than this brand new M'head school. All I'm saying is that high school students make damn good artwork, usually, and they don't usually ask for pay. Silly, silly Marblehead.
I am reading American Tragedy for english. When we were first assigned the book, I thought, "O! Here's one I haven't read before, at least!" Then I started reading it. Within the first few pages I suddenly and frighteningly realized that I knew the father's name, the kid's next job, and how the book ended. I suddenly realized that I could quote the last line of the book. I suddenly realized that I had read the book before.
This was scary, because I always remember what I read. Always. And once I started (re)reading this book, I did remember it all. But I had had no recollection at all that I had already read the book. Yet I had. I dunno, I freak myself out sometimes.
Today Stephanie rejoined our French class, bringing the grand total of students up to 7. A most glorious learning environment.
Must sign up for SATs!! Don't let me forget...
Well, maybe I should go do that now, before I do forget.
The paper cup has water in it. It sits over an open flame from the bunsen burner. The bunsen burner is connected to the gas thingy by way of a legnth of rubber hosing. The paper cup, over the flame, does not catch on fire. It is a miracle. The rubber hose does catch on fire. The room smells like burning rubber.
Ah, the infinitely thrilling trials and tribulations of biology class!
For everyone out there who is not back to school yet, you suck. All of you. Collectively.
We worked on the mural today. It was OK, we didn't really get much done. We've reached the point where most of the big stuff is done, but we haven't got enough done to just concentrate on details. A rather awkward positiong. So to speak. Also, even though it's fall and should, by rights, be nice and cool out, it was around 80 after school. And believe me, you could feel every single one of those 80 degrees painting on those stairs.
Liz wants to know if she could keep her appendix if she had it out. I do not know.
In psychology, we have to determine what 'school of thought' we would use to help solve certain problem situations. But that's not important. What is important is that the problem situations are, to my deranged little mind, entirely hilarious. They are as follows:
-Teach a retarded child to write their name.
-Help a person to quit smoking.
-Help a woman who cries whenever her boss criticizes her, lowering her chances for promotion.
-A husband verbally abuses his wife. The wife feels she is wrong and has low self esteem.
-A depressed man considering suicide does not know why he is depressed.
-A boy is afraid of animals. (all animals, apparently!)
-A man is unhappy about the direction of his life.
-A child continually speaks out and interrupts kindergarten.
I don't know, maybe you don't find it amusing at all, but when I read them, something in there just struck me as irrationally but irrepressably funny.
Leslie got to go to the US Open! She got autographs! Damn, that's really cool.
Intuition is bunk.
The thought of college essays makes me ill. Doesn't it make you ill, too? At least I got started on my portfolio, got it to the photographer and whatnot. That's something. Right? Right?
Monday, September 02, 2002
I should have known it was too good to be true.
Blogger claimed that now we could get image hosting at Blog*Spot. Of course I was very psyched at this prospect, because you all know about me and pictures. Oh yes! Unfortunately, I went to enquire further into this image hosting business, and discovered that it was $5 a month. I don't care if that's cheap, I don't pay anything for my blogging. I categorically refuse to do so! It is against my moral principles, see.
And then we sat in a tree for a while, which was nice, if you like that kind of thing. I do.
If you were using baby cuticles to make gumdrops, how many babies would you need in order to make a whole bag of gumdrops? A whole lot of babies, that's how many you'd need.
I have a Blindness assignment that doesn't make one modicum of sense. If sense comes in units of modicums. But you know what I mean. I don't have any idea what the teacher is asking us to do. Thus, I blog. Well, it does serve some purpose. If I'm blogging, then it warms up my hands for the typing. Really! You ought to try it sometime.
Happy slightly belated birthdays to, first, Maura! and then Corey! Seventeen is a prime number, you know.
Thank cats I have a 4 day week ahead of me. Anything is better than a full 5 days. Well, maybe not anything. But lots of things are better.
Thirteen people are online. Thirteen is a prime number. Just like seventeen.
My room has passed beyond the Messiness Event Horizon, and has become entirely impassable. I have enough paper on my floor to recreate Mrs. Kalloch's precious Paper House. Since it has, in fact, passed the Messiness Event Horizon, I am now skeptical as to whether or not my room can ever recover and become clean once again. It remains to be seen.
The second person to regain his eyesight, already late into the night, when the lamp, running out of oil, was flickering, was the girl with dark glasses.
The Messiness Event Horizon, in case you were not acquainted with it, is the point at which it becomes impossible to move freely throughout an area stepping only the floor. In this case, the area is my room. It is impossible to move freely in there without stepping on something other than the floor (paper, clothing, books, cat litter, the bed, etc.) because there is no longer a sufficient amount of clear floor space to step upon. This is a sad state of existence that is reached all-too-easily and all-too-often in my room.
*warm like summer breeze
flowing 'round your city
come on down with me
i love gasoline*
Tropical fish on a chair with black wheels.
*how do you document real life when real life's getting more like fiction each day?*
There are all sorts of fun and interesting things that one can do with glossy photo paper.
Kate likes to cha cha.
Well, I guess that I really ought to go and get started on that english essay business. I know that you look foward to it almost as much as I do. Don't try to deny it, I know that you do.
See you next Tuesday.
Sunday, September 01, 2002
School. Hate. I.
Homework. Much. Have. We.
Stick a 'Too' in there, and you've got the picture.
Sigh. My agony continues. My only consolation is that the bell rang before our math teacher could give us homework, and so I was spared that particular horror this weekend. Thank cats.
Yesterday me, Jess, Liz and Peppito went mini golfing. It was kinda cool, because it was pitch black out, but the lights at the mini golf place are so incredibly bright that everything was lit up like day within a certain area. It gave everything this really eerie look. The weirdest was when you looked up at the trees and saw these bright lime green leaves against this dark black velvet background. It was really cool looking, but very unnatural. I would've taken a picture, but it wouldn't have come out properly.
It was really crowded. We were behind this family of insanity. The father had a leopard print purse and he asked us if we liked it. We said that we did. Then he made the obligatory hair comment "Hey, when you were painting your house today you got blue paint in your hair!" (everyone garrulous who sees my hair makes that comment, or a very similar one. It's like they feel it's necessary to do so) and I made the obligatory reply "Ha, yes, I know" combined with the obligatory *slightly annoyed grin* and *yes-I've-heard-that-one-before little head tilt*. You know what I mean.
Anyways, they played a crazy game, and they were loud and amusing. We kept hitting the balls off of the course, and Liz lost hers entirely about 5 holes before the end. It must have gone somewhere into the grass, and it was a bright yellow ball (we gave her that one on purpose), but it somehow managed to disappear. Just like last time. Only Liz. Sigh. Only Liz.
Then we got ice cream and it was gooooooooooood. As usual. We saw some of the same guys we had seen at the bowling place, which was a wild and crazy coincidence of mythical proportions. I kid? Nay, I kid not.
Stifle, stifle, stifle. What a word, what a world.
Too many people to talk to online. So many interesting conversatoins just waiting to be had. I must go attend to them.