hrm

Does Christina Aguilera know what a hobag she is? Or does she really believe she's cutting edge hot and cool?

Doesn't she have an agent or a stylist or someone that can explain that applying-makeup-with-a-spatula-chic died out with Tammy Faye? I won't bother discussing her fashion sense (or lack thereof) here, because, for chrissakes, what's the bleeding point? She's got an amazing voice, it's just tragic she's squandering her talent because she equates skank with hot.

So yeah, going to bed early hasn't happened. Watching music videos instead. Is it wrong to find Ricky Martin hot? I have this vague sense of guilt over it. Like saying your favorite food is cotton candy. His interviews...eesh.

It's official. My favorite music video of all time is A-ha's Take On Me. I'm not saying it's got the most amazing cgi stuff ever, or denying it's a simple perky pop tune. It's just my favorite.

Gwen Stefani has the most engaging smile.



Shakira should never get another perm/crimp job, but should allow her hair to be loosely wavy.



Thicke reminds me of Ted Neely from Jesus Christ Superstar. But without Covergirl Suntan #5.



In other exciting news, Tony Kushner's Angels in America premieres on HBO next weekend. I absolutely have to see it. Am considering signing on for HBO for a month. Oh shitshit part two airs Dec 14th, I'll be out of town. No one I know has HBO in LA. I wonder if I can set it to tape, my vcr gets cranky on higher numbered channels, weirdly. Or, I bet Judy and John will be watching. Perhaps they can tape it. I bet they release it to DVD, too. But can I wait that long?

This makes me want to re-read Sandman and revisit my obsession with angels.

Ooo I feel some quoting coming on. God. Angels in America. So. Freaking. Good. In my angst filled college days (versus um other angst filled phases. yes. yes. shut up. I'm an angstbunny), I would BOOM these lines out (and god bless Amy for surviving 5 years of living with me and never once dumping cold water on my head). Come on, come on, say them with me. In your best throaty, velvety James Earl Jones voices, now!

From Part II: Perestroika

Angel:

Surely you see towards what We are Progressing:
The fabric of the sky unravels:
Angels hover, anxious fingers worry
The tattered edge.
Before the boiling of blood and the searing of skin
Comes the Secret Catastrophe:
Before Life on Earth becomes finally merely impossible,
It will for a long time before have become completely unbearable.
YOU HAVE DRIVEN HIM AWAY! YOU MUST STOP MOVING!

Angel: (continues softly)

Forsake the Open Road:
Neither Mix Nor Intermarry: Let Deep Roots Grow:
If you do not MINGLE you will Cease to Progress:
Seek not to Fathom the World and its Delicate Particle Logic:
You cannot Understand, You can only Destroy,
You do not Advance, You only Trample.
Poor blind Children, abandoned on the Earth,
Groping terrified, misguided, over
Fields of Slaughter, over bodies of the Slain:
HOBBLE YOURSELVES!
There is No Zion Save Where You Are!
If you Cannot find your Heart's desire...

Prior: In your own backyard...
Angel, Prior, and Belize: You never lost it to begin with.

Maybe this is less orgasmic out of context, but ahhhhhhhh sooo good!

Ok. Shit. Must. Go. To. Bed. NOW!

blaaaaaah

Having a weird morning. Started with a weird dream last night. I was at Judy and John's anniversary party and we were all happily drunk out of our minds. And gorging on a feast of hors d'oeuvre. For some reason, Judy got waaaaaaaay more drunk than me. And in fact, by the end of the night, I was sober. And I insisted on driving her home. John had just left without her earlier, because he had a flight the next day.

There was also this weird bit where Jeff and I needed to go somewhere in his giant SUV and pass through a toll, costing $2, which he accidentally drove through and decided he didn't give a damn and sped off back home.

Then Judy and I were trying to leave the gated community, in which Dreamland-Ellen and Jeff lived, and it was obviously gated with these huge Black Gate-esque gates. Then this cop shows up, and we're freaked out, but he just kindly opens a side gate. And then there are these other guys directing us through to the exit.

Ahhh. Wouldn't it be nice to have pleasant people stationed at every confusing point of one's life, opening gates and pointing the way clear?

Then had to update my work log, and for some reason, the file wouldn't update. It would say it'd updated, but when I looked at the allegedly fresh copy on the web --it was the old version. Finally DELETED the motherfucker, reuploaded and all was fine. Huh.

And just feeling oddly distracted. It's wet and cold outside, wah. I was really cranky with Hobbes earlier because he kept headbutting my face and I was trying to get the damn invoice off. He's gone off somewhere to sulk.

So yeah, went to bed late, woke up late. Did not work out yet. But will IMMEDIATELY after work. And then will start homework. I can't believe there are only 2 weeks left of school.

owie

So finished work, had a good solid workout and am now sore. But the good sore.

Wanted to work myself up to going out for a walk but the weather was just too grey, wet and chilly. I really ought to get cracking on my homework for this week, but don't waaaaaaanna.

In more exciting news, Mom got my ps2 memory card from Zia and mailed it today. Amy's gift of Gosford Park will arrive tomorrow, too. Whoop.

Maybe I'll go get the X-2 Walkthrough (oh bite me it is not cheating) tomorrow after class if B&N is open. It's in the U Village and should be open late, for heaven's sake.

Feeling particularly listless, so am going to play some hyper tunes and see if I can spaz myself into some energy. Sound Therapy, yay.

And then, yes then, do homework *makes face*

Oh and read 50 more pages of bookclub book.

Why is it that I've got a million things to do, but want to do none of them?

Things I Do Want To Do:

Play my ps2
Make out wildly with Sean Bean
Nap
Watch this week's Survivor (hate waiting till Thursday)
Eat a vat of carbohydrates (back on Atkins, hi!)
Go kayaking in some warm tropical waters
Curl up with hot cocoa and read Harry Potter books (the literary equivalent of mashed potatoes)

Blast Reservoir Dogs. I will never be able to listen to Stuck in the Middle With You by Stealers Wheel without thinking of Michael Madsen torturing that cop.

Hrm. Though if I try hard, I can probably associate it with that new Farrelly Bros flick.

huh

What Irrational Number Are You?

You are π Of all the irrational numbers, you are the most famous. You have many friends and fans. Like many people, non-Euclidean geometry makes you feel uncomfortable. You are involved in so many things that it seems like it would take two of you to make ends meet. You are particularly close to the rational number 22/7. However, you and e have been called "remarkable." Your lucky number is approximately 3.14159265

Shiny Lemur Straif's Blog

*yawn*

I feel like I want to go to bed or something.

But if I do, I'd be up at 3am, so that idea's out. And I don't think I'm sleepy. I think I'm bored out of my mind.

Lalala. Finished 50pgs of bookclub book. Wow. If I could only set a schedule and abide by it like that for my schoolwork.

SIP

Couple of things.

Vol 3, Issue 35 --was Francie's arm broken before Tip went to pick her up?

I know Katchoo was falling apart, but she'd apparently pulled it together for the meeting with Sal. So why did Tambi drag Francie out there at that point? From what she was about to say to Tambi, she was willing to go through with the takeover as long as Francie's safety was secured.

Vol 3 Issue 36 --Why did that weird guy leave the cell phone for Tambi to trace? And good lord how stupid was he. "Aha! I know all about your secret plot! Hah!" Die, loser.

Vol 3 Issue 37 --As bad as I felt for Brad here, David's desperate pee-dance is the funniest freaking thing ever. And the penguins, too. Bwahaha!

Also, as much as I can understand Katchoo sleeping with him that night, it just kills me. Poor David.

So part of my motivation for this particular re-read, outside of killing time between issues, was to see if I could find where the story got lost, for me. At some point, it seems like Terry Moore started this insane recycling trend. Not just Francie and Katchoo get close. Francie freaks. Katchoo breaks furniture. Francie bolts. Francie returns. But recycle in a much larger scope. Where we think they're going to be apart forever, but they're not. And I think I've found it tonight.

Vol 3, Issue 38.
At the end, Francie calmly, soberly tells Katchoo that she wants children. That she's running out of time. I feel that should have been the end of that whole arc. That should have been the beginning of the 10 year rift. Not the whole weird pregnancy induced 'what if' hallucinations. The miscarriage we were thinking should have been Ashley (and finding the math wrong). None of that should have happened.

Sarah and I have speculated ad nauseum on what caused the final rift. And we would talk about these huge unforgivable mistakes that one or the other might make. And when the final FINAL end came. We agreed it did make much more sense for it to be a quiet thing. A request. Francie saying she just couldn't take it. That if it had been a huge argument, they would have sought to mend the rift.

Which is all the more why I feel that the Great Rift should have happened a lot earlier. Like Issue 38. There are plenty of other stories to be told in the SIP world. I was really losing hope for a while, hope which was restored by issue ...58, I think. When Becky shoots Vicky with the high powered rifle-thing, from across like 5 buildings) I'm excited as all fuck to read the David arc. Which, I don' t know when the hell it's going to be released, since it clearly wasn't Nov 26 as indicated on the website forum. Ah, just checked. It's coming out this Wednesday, December 3rd. Also need to pick up the new Source Book. Finally.

Hoping that SIP is going to move on and regain some of it's awe inspiring momentum, the kind that captured me as an avid reader for so very long.