Sunscreen

Currently Listening To: Time On Your Side by Emily Jane White
Location: My bed
That's right; I am typing this from my bed. My parents got me a laptop for graduation. That's right, I graduated. In fact, I graduated three days and four-ish hours ago. It took me three days and four hours to start a graduation post. My freshman year, I would have been typing as I walked across the stage. I guess that's just one of the many ways I've changed since I started this blog and high school four years ago.

I would be lying if I saide these four years went by fast; there were times I thought I would be stuck, a la Groundhog Day, in a loop of high school until I went insane. I had my fair share of low points, both events around me and mistakes I've made. Then again, there have been good experiences. That's what high school is, and that's what life is. Good and bad times; the good to tell you what to do and give you something to hold on to, and the bad to tell you how not to do it and give you motivation to do it better next time. It's that good-and-bad dichotomy that make up who you are, and hopefully, make you a better person once it is all said and done. Freshman year and a good bit of sophomore year I was pretty much a piece of shit, and I mean that in the nicest way possible. I was just worthless. I did nothing. Wasted it. Worse yet, I tried to act like it was somehow connected to the external bad shit going down around me. And then there was the whole Chad ordeal.That definitely goes under the 'things I'd like to put behind me' category. I still can't believe Clint gave him that password! But spring of freshman year, aside from Chad, stands out as me not being slime. That was when we saw House of Wax, highlight of the year, if only because every time that story is retold, Starla bumps my age down by a year. Last I hear, Claire pushed me into the theater in a stroller.

Sophomore year, I suppose, served to show me exactly what the word 'sophomoric' meant. We fucked around a lot. Productivity was at an all time low. Countless hours spent doing nothing in either Spanish/Chemistry class, or not buying things in Barnes and Nobles. Though I get involved with drama that year, which on the whole, is definitely a highlight of high school for me.

Junior year? Oh fuck. First, physics class was a huge learning experience, and I'm not talking about shit like trajectories and electromagnetism and whatnot. It taught me how to take failure in stride, and I suppose study skills to a minor extent. And English produced ample entertainment with our replacement teacher, Dr. Durlin. "Massa Kurtz, he DEAD." Outside of class, I finally figured out who my friends were (my two gangs: the Stack, the Big Three... FOR LIFE), as well as one douchebag who wasn't. Fuck that kid. I mean, I hate to be bitter, but fuck him. We didn't need him after all, and he apparently didn't need us. I began my love affair with a man named Stephen King. And then there was the, er, saga, I suppose, that will forever haunt me. I can only pray that I never treat someone as as much of a human doormat as I did her. Note to self: a simple no would have been satisfactory. I don't doubt you're reading this; I know we already talked about it but I'm still sorry. How're things?

Senior year is how I hope to remember high school. Aside from the rough first month-and-a-half, I succeeded in getting my license, becoming Homecoming King, getting into a school I am thrilled to be going to next year AND finally getting a girlfriend. I am doing pretty well. I befriended some interesting new/old people at school and spent nearly every weekend at the movies, going on as many as six duplicate viewings. THREE CLOVERFIELDS. Holy shit. As far as lessons learned, I think my several-month-procrastination on going out with Adrienne tops the list. While procrastination is a theme that runs throughout my life, the fact that I delayed happiness for so long, rather than the typical delay of work and subsequent happiness, shows just how inept I am.

Loved some of it, hated the rest. High school. Xangas,zombie movies, Barnes & Nobles, Vitamin Water, prom, Stephen King, indie bullshit, graphic design, ratty old Hondas. I'd say it went pretty well, all things considered.

I think I've got one high school post left in me, and then I will close that chapter of my life/blog.

And so it is now that I'm announcing my plans to delete every previous post and devote my blog to my love of the ever-talented Jonas Brothers.

fire!

fire!
Originally uploaded by CliveDangerously.

I had a minor altercation with a QuickTrip employee yesterday, but we, er, 'worked things out'.
You see, after the 'got-no-gas' incident last year, my mom gave me her Amex so I could fill up when I was out of gas, rather than waiting until I was out of gas and with her, which was pretty much never. And with gas prices going up, she suggested I start going to QT, which tends to be cheaper. That's smart. And QT has breakfast, which is nice in the mornings, the time of day people tend to eat breakfast. Except the other day, I tried to charge my eats to the card and the woman behind the counter looked at the card, and she looked at me, and she incredulously asked, "Ellen?"
Being that I wasn't, you know, doing anything wrong, I explained that Ellen is my mom, and I'm using her card. A swift rebuttal follows: "Honey, you can't use her card. Blah blah blah, something something." She didn't actually say "Blah blah blah, something something," I just didn't really care enough about what she was saying to remember it.

Really, the incident isn't too significant, except I was fucking ornery that morning, and by calling me 'honey' (I am almost 18 for fuck's sake!) and inconveniencing my grazing (because I am almost morbidly obese for fuck's sake!), it really pissed me off. And my allergies cause my eyes to be watering all the time, and I was worried she though I was crying over a chicken biscuit. Which I wasn't. I swear.

Big Announcment

trent
Originally uploaded by CliveDangerously.

Trent Reznor made a big ol' announcement this week. This was the postcard he sent his fans.

So yesterday was my last day of school, except it was just graduation rehearsal, so I suppose Thursday was my last day of school, except that was just my AP English exam, because our pissed-off administration canceled school because some kids tagged the Cove with "Class of 08 we're f'n great". I would have preferred a full "fuckin' great", but I'll settle. So Wednesday was the last day. High School is dunzo. I graduate on the 17th, and then in late August I ship off to DC for college.

I love my family dearly, but at this moment, I don't feel sad at all to be leaving. I'll be back, you know? Christmas, summer, etc.?

Senior year, however, I will not miss. Senior privileges were meager (at best), and most attempts at senior shenanigans were sabotaged. Sure, a small group of us resurrected Water Day as Water Night and made several underclassmen cry, but other than that? Not much to write home about. The fact that it wasn't our laziness so much as the actions of the administration makes me glad to be leaving. Everything is changing for the sake of change and being the Stepford School. Fuck high school. I'm above this shit.

I saw Baby Mama last night with Bob and one of his friends (Bob is back!) They were quite drunk. It sucked because Bob kept shouting and his friend kept hitting me every time something funny happened. But I enjoyed the movie aside from that.

And then, while driving out (past curfew... scandalous), we saw something... AMAZING. I picked it up, and it is now here in the basement awaiting a picture to immortalize its presence in the house. I'll get that up later.

What Is In My CD Player Right Now?

cd-cover
Originally uploaded by CliveDangerously.

What's Going On In Your Life?

Currently Watching: The Ten
Well, okay, I was really only asking so that I could inversely tell you how I am doing.

First, I've just finished the play. It sucked up all my time during those last few weeks, leaving me bitchy and tired all the time. Driving home after midnight isn't so fun when it's raining really hard and you're sleepy.

One time I fell asleep while driving and was like an inch away from t-boning this flower van. Comical, to be sure.

So yeah, the play left me whiny and disgruntled. Which really wasn't much of a change I guess... But that big ol' time suck left me very little time for...

My girlfriend.

Yes, you read that correctly. The little nerd you've been following intently like your favorite VH1 reality show for the past four years has a real girlfriend. And she has a name. It is Adrienne.



That is her. If you're feeling excessively voyeuristic, you can check out all the fun pictures on flickr

Names

Currently Listening To: I'm Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How To Dance With You by Black Kids
Both of my parents, when signing e-mails, simply put their respective first initial.

When did my house become MI6?

I guess I'll be 002, since I'm il secondo.

Yes, I speak Italian have access to google translator.

My Special Place

Currently Listening To: Waiting by Shiny Toy Guns
Last week in assembly, a girl I haven't spoken to in the three years she's gone to our school of less-than-500 students gave a speech about all the shit that's gone down in her life (serious shit), and that our school has made her feel confident and what not. So, a brief recap of that briefness: her special place is school because it makes her feel safe.

Now, what about my special place?

Oh, I've got a great one. But it's not a place that makes me feel safe. Quite the opposite, in fact. My special place is the way I've recently started driving home from school. Basically, you go the same way as usual, but halfway down the highway you take a right straight into the bowels of hell. You pass by various ranch houses on large lots, followed by THE COMPOUND. What the fuck is THE COMPOUND, you may be asking? THE COMPOUND is this seriously sketchy grouping of houses and American-made cars on blocks surrounded by a sloppily-put-up retaining wall fence with some cryptic message I don't care to remember spray painted on the side. Who lives in THE COMPOUND? Trustworthy sources (some kid I talked to in middle school) claim Neo-Nazis, though a charismatic cult, Communists or the KKK are not out of the question.

Needless to say, driving by is uncomfortable. Breaking down on the side of the road is bad. Breaking down within half a mile of THE COMPOUND is bullet-in-the-brainpan worthy. Imagine House of Wax, Texas Chainsaw and Wrong Turn rolled into a thin flour tortilla and grilled to perfection.

After THE COMPOUND, there is the little town of Macedonia. I'll be damned if the name of every town in Georgia wasn't taken from my Ancient World History book from Freshman year. Macedonia, of course, is where my radio is hijacked from the audio-orgasm that is SIRIUS 26 Left of Center and switches to some rinky-dink station coming from someone's basement, which plays various essays and rants about the New World Order and how uncivilized people in Africa are (I shit you not... and this isn't THE COMPOUND). This happens a lot, of course; the frequency I listen to SIRIUS on is pretty popular for people's car-iPod things, so I'm frequently subjected to other people's crappy music. That's what I get for using a (paradoxically) Vacant Frequency (which is the name I plan to use for my Dan Brown/Robert Ludlum novel).

Following Fred Phelps Radio is the power plant, which was deemed one of the ten worst in the country (though I'm inclined to say it was #1 on the list). I don't know what to say about it other than that I close the vents on my car when I'm in sight of it.

From here on out, there's a lot of unremarkable minutia. Rinky-dink airport. Windy roads. Broken roads. One-lane bridge. I like to blast M.I.A.'s Kala and pretend I'm driving in the jungle of a third-world country. It helps that my car is a beat up, outdated Honda SUV. Third-world, to be sure. My life is like the ghetto. I grew up on the streets.

What's most exhilarating is that (SHH!) I'm not supposed to drive that way. Not because of the possible cannibals, bigot radio or power plant. It's the one lane bridge. Dad, I love you and how you always look out for me.

Fantastic

Currently Listening To: Great DJ by the Ting Tings
"Either way, all the talk about dead people milling about has given me my idea for a zombie flick. It's called Zombie of the Zombies. The protagonist is a young man that happens to be a zombie. He wakes up one day (hungry for flesh and feeling a bit rigor-mortis-y, naturally) and notices that some of the zombies around him have started turning...zombier. This obviously freaks his 5-cell mind out. He's panicked, in a constant state of terror (and hunger). He couldn't stand (or comprehend) the thought of his zombie girlfriend and their adopted zombie children turning zombier, as he would then have to kill them. He does everything he can think of - namely, killing and eating the few remaining humans left and walking around a lot - to prevent this from happening. Hey, at least he's trying something. In the end, he makes a valiant effort to stop the zombiers from getting his clan, and succeeds in saving their zombie lives, only to be turned zombier himself."
- Blog Cabins

Drugs

Currently Watching: Reno 911! Miami
Has it really been a month? A month since I last made you laugh, made you cry, made you love again?

I really am great.

I'm here today to talk about drugs. First off, to clear up any sort of misconceptions about me and my non-drug addiction. As in, I ain't no drug addict. Normally I wouldn't need to say something like that, but I was recently accused of being such. For you see, once again, ALLERGIES. Damn those guys. Allergies require medication, because this is America, and if you're uncomfortable, you medicate that shit. Well, last time I was struggling with allergies, my mom gave me a magical little pill that made me feel like I was walking on air, and driving on air and sleeping on air and being on air. I could fall asleep and awaken without any effort, and nothing could hurt me. So after my recent allergy uprising, I tried desperately to find that pill again at the nurse's station at school, to no avail. It ain't Claritin. And so I told some fellow students about this during environmental, at which point, TADA, "Ryan, you're a drug addict."

NO.

If I were a drug addict, would I be able to do a hand stand? NO. Never mind the fact that I can't do a hand stand. But my inability to do a handstand and a crackhead's identical inability do not, by the transitive property, spell Ryan=crackhead. That would be a logical fallacy. Fucko.

My perma-bloodshot eyes (a result of allergies and eye-rubbing) don't help the drug-addict image.

Have I learned nothing from all those PSAs about stealing your parents' medicine?

Prom/the play: less than two weeks... At which point I should have a lengthy complaint. I promise. But I'm actually looking forward to prom (HINT HINT).

Cool Things

Currently Watching: Aqua Teen Hunger Force

• Doomsday--How can I describe this movie? Truth is, I can't.
  

But I'll try: You know how on a roller coaster, your stomach drops? It was like that, except it was my balls and they were going up instead of down, and instead of the gentle 'drop', 'twas a launch. All the zombie-madman carnage straight up took me boys in its hand and shot them straight up. The wanton violence and gore took my projectile testicles and removed them from orbit, then proceeding to yank out my eyes, so as to prevent me from trying to see something that incredible ever again, and replacing them wit me boys. Finally, the car chase ripped my new 'eyes' out, lit them on fire and put them back from whence they originally came, before forcibly taking one of my limbs from its socket and sodomizing me with it.

Forgive the hyperbole, but BEST MOVIE EVER.

Back to cool things:

• Weather--As we left the theater, the calm weather was disrupted by a bolt of lightning, immediately after which shit fell out. I mean, seriously: no transition from dry to drizzle to damp; one second it was dry and with no warning but the bolt of lightning, it was monsoon weather. And lightning continued throughout. It was, well, a cool thing.
• This e-mail from my Government teacher: You have outdone yourself this time. Not only was your exam the funniest thing I have read in a long time (I fell off the couch laughing) and your essay excellent, but you also just blew the curve for your classmates. Nothing like an ego boost.
• The other two exams I got A's on, as well as the one I got a B on. The last two exams? Let me tell you where they can shove it.
• Becoming a famous TV star on Sunday at 7 a.m., when my episode of High Q comes on. WATCH IT!
  
• Going to bed!!1!
  

Lovely Ladies

Currently Listening To: Blackout by Muse
So I'm watching last night's Colbert Report; he was showing a montage mourning the death of conservative McCain-bashing, and I saw a shot of McCain's wife. His hot wife. Then I thought of a soundbyte I dropped in Government class, to the effect of: "George W. Bush and I have two things in common: we're white males and we think Laura Bush is really hot."

Then i thought of the best idea ever: First Ladies' Calendar. We'd have them all: Laura Bush, McCain's arm candy, Michelle Obama, Dirty Denny Kucinich's model/giant (because he is a goblin), Maria Schriver, Gov. Spritzer's loyal lady, Bill Clinton... All the greats. I'm sure Georgia governor Sonny Perude has a hot wife; throw her ol' bones in there too.

Don't get hung up on the 'First Ladies' thing; sure, Sras. McCain, Obama, Kucinich, etc., aren't First Ladies yet/won't ever be (Sorry Sra. Kucinich), but people will get the point.

And don't say I'm the only one who would buy it, because that's bullshit and you know it; you'd get one for your office and one for your den.

And Doomsday, aside from looking awesome, has a banging song in the trailer, as well as a banging trailer and a banging lead.

Ooh, Laura Bush... You've helped me out of countless lonely nights. Where's that copy of Newsweek?

Alphabeat--Fascination

So this is my favorite video ever. I showed it to Adrienne, and she said it was gay. It is not gay. It is awesome.

I am currently at school. Had I not auditioned for the play, I would be at home, because it is exam week, and I was done at 9 a.m. today. Instead, I must wait until 4:30. That is a bigger gap than the gap in my awake time I have every day, you know, sleep. I really should have slept. Instead, I spent countless hours in the pub at school, just kind of tooling around, graphically designing and watching the Daily Show on their website.

I am pathetic.

Music Man Poster Description Page

Music Man Poster Description Page
Originally uploaded by CliveDangerously.

For our exam, we have to make a folder with all of our projects and description pages for them. This one was for my Music Man poster, which is so unremarkable I shall not post it.

Comic Strip Description Page

Comic Strip Description Page
Originally uploaded by CliveDangerously.

For our exam, we have to make a folder with all of our projects and description pages for them. This one is for my comic strip. It had Fidel Castro (I made it before he stepped down, that bastard joke-killer) going into... Space.

Coke Logo Description Page

Coke Logo Description Page
Originally uploaded by CliveDangerously.

For our exam, we have to make a folder with all of our projects and description pages for them. This one is for the logo we had to design for some CocaCola jet-thing. MEH.

Google Logos Description Page

Google Logos Description Page
Originally uploaded by CliveDangerously.

For our exam, we have to make a folder with all of our projects and description pages for them. This was for my google logos (http://www.flickr.com/photos/48274860@N00/2298423956/). The other two were just okay.

Amputee Cowboy Description Page

Amputee Cowboy Description Page
Originally uploaded by CliveDangerously.

For our exam, we have to make a folder with all of our projects and description pages for them. This one was for my Hanukkah card, which featured an amputee cowboy wishing his goyems a prosperous festival of lights.

Google Logo

Google Logo
Originally uploaded by CliveDangerously.

From a recent project in my graphic design class; we had to design (for a contest) a logo for google depicting a what-if scenario...

...This was mine.

I'm not a bad person. I swear. And the booze not looking too accurate may have to do with my non-drinking... I've actually never seen vodka outside of a bottle, nor have I ever seen a martini 'in the flesh'.

Feelin' Like Dying

Currently Listening To:
Not so much in the emo, hate-my-life sense so much as the might-die-at-some-point-during-the-night-but-at-least-then-I-won't-be-in-so-much-pain kind. First, I'm sick. I think I've got a cold, or something. Maybe tuberculosis. My lungs hurt a lot. That's generally bad.

WAIT, WHY THE FUCK DOES MICHAEL BAY GET TO VOTE ON BEST PICTURE? GAH, FUCK THAT.

Anyways, sick. Oscars. Atonement got fucked twice since I started watching two categories ago. I didn't see Michael Clayton, but I for-real think that No Country for Old Men is vastly overrated. What the hell were they talking about? I mean seriously, what were they getting at? Yeah, Bardem was scary as hell, but at the end of the day (er, movie), you're left quite unfulfilled. Two hours and you end up nowhere. Atonement actually had some character point-A-to-B action that wasn't 'defeat'.

I suppose the Atonement poster hanging next to my TV would be a good indicator of my bias.

And I think the only reason Enchanted is the main event for best song is because Disney and ABC are pretty much the same entity.

Anyways, sick. Death. Feel like death.

KILL ME NOW.

In other news:

• Finished a twelve page (that ended up being less than twelve, but Claire did the same so maybe we'll be spared?)
• Visited Sewanee. For a multitude of reasons, I'm for-sure going there next year. The lack of cellphone reception is a plus. I fucking hate cellphones.
• Got in the Spring play, which will be my last at the Dar. Daniel got in as well, but Dane didn't, which is a shame, because we really wanted a nice farewell for the Big Three, but it's so different than the drama program was sophomore and junior years that I guess it was doomed to be different; it looks like we'll be practicing five (or more) days a week instead of the standard four, as well as going considerably longer than in the past. Don't get me wrong, I like our director, it's just that it's different. To quote some asshole who doesn't even warrant credit because of how worn out this cliche is, "The only thing that is constant is change"
• I'm applying for a summer job. I'm going to try to stay low key about it so as to not jinx it, which shows just how mature I am.
• I rented disc one of Dexter yesterday. It was so good, and definitely worth the two dollars I paid for it, except the fact that BLOCKBUSTER ONLINE MOVIES ARE SUPPOSED TO BE REDEEMABLE FOR A FREE IN-STORE RENTAL. That means that when I take in a movie and exchange it for disc one of Dexter, I should Dexter for free. Because that was the agreement when we signed up. That's why we signed up. It was the one advantage over Netflix. But now that there's a finite number. Pure shenanigans. Let's review: my dad opted for Blockbuster Online because we could trade the envelopes at our Blockbuster for a free rental, a service Netflix did not 9and still diesn't) provide. Now, Blockbuster has reneged on that service. So, the services offered by Blockbuster and those provided by Netflix are...
  

I'll let you do the rest.

And those links are to previous posts where I ripped on Blockbuster, or just it into my Blockbuster saga. There is, of course, more, if you search 'Blockbuster' in the search bar up top. Try it. It'll be fun.

Movie Rants

Currently Listening To: Nicotine and Gravy by Beck
Went to the theater tonight with pa. Out of the eight times I've been to a movie so far this year, it was only the second with him, which is the opposite of how it usually is. Driving has pretty much cut off whatever sort of relationship I had with my parents aside from college/school talk and me hitting them up for cash. And the "Why didn't you call? We thought you were dead in a ditch" convos.

CineBitch has devolved quickly into my awkward relationships with my parents, and how I pretty much am unable to, you know, connect with them at all.

Anyways, back to CineBitch:

• First was the parking dilemma. It wasn't much of a dilemma at first; I saw a spot in the packed lot, pulled in, pulled out, pulled back in again... You get the drill. We were late, so I wasn't exactly careful (though most of the time I just park without any sort of regard for white lines). Anyways, we get out of the car and walk toward the theater. Just before I round the corner, a gaggle of cops I hadn't noticed sarcastically comment to my dad about my parking job. I sarcastically waved back in appreciation and kept walking. But the thing is, nothing's ever that simple for my dad. I kept walking and he didn't. Now, normally, I would have been embarrassed and told him to just scrape the cheese off the burger or whatever. He's a bit of a customer service nightmare. But this time I didn't mind, mostly because my driving skills had been cast into doubt by the authorities, something which hadn't occurred since I failed the driving test. After a bit of a squawk (in which plot twist it was revealed that I was 100% in between the lines), my dad moved the car to another, now-vacant spot. While walking back, he observed these cops watch someone else pull into our old spot and remark about how it was a tight squeeze and everyone was trying it tonight.

DIIIIIIICKS. Seriously. They're paid to keep the peace (which, when they're at the theater, means the pay is coming out of the higher ticket prices), and all they can do is stand in a group at side of the theater where nothing remotely suspicious is going on, then mother guard a small parking spot? Again, DIIIIIIICKS.

• Next, why the hell do we need rent-a-cops at the theater? You might say, "Oh, redneck goth kids are troublemakers". You'd be wrong. They loiter, but that's it. You want to know the verifiable conspiracy at play? The theater owners only get the guards when a movie aimed at a black audience opens. Seriously. All the Tyler Perry movies. Stomp the Yard. Big Momma's House 2. What have you. And I'll be damned if there's ever an actual incident. Again, you might say, "But the kids are on their best behavior because the cops are there!" Wrong again. May I point you again to the rent-a-cops huddled by the side door judging parking maneuvers?
• Finally, how come so many of the movies I've seen this year didn't have endings? Both Cloverfield (x3, one for each time I saw it) and No Country for Old Men left me hanging, meaning that p=.5 when it comes to movies I saw this year not being finished.

The good of today's good/bad? My 90's CDs arrived today: Midnite Vultures by Beck, Presidents of the United State's self-titled album, Offspring's Americana (which Robert bought when he was in like 3rd grade, but the disc has since gone missing), Bush's Science of Things and Spacehog's Resident Alien. I'm still waiting on Beck's Mutations, though. It's all good.

Other than that, I've just been hanging out lately. Learning lots of new things about learning about life. Such as:

• If, in K-Mart, you hear "Code 19 in furnitures", it means that some kids are doing the Lord's Prayer in round at a patio table.
• A scarf and bug eyed sunglasses on a cherub face such as mine are effective in convincing various people that I'm a hot, hot lady. Seriously. Those dudes were totally checking me out at the red light near the hospital.
• I would rather stick my hand into a beehive for 45 minutes than go to a select few of my classes at school. Those classes are also the ones with juniors/non-seniors in them. Coincidence? I think not. Non-seniors ask inane questions and need everything explained multiple times in progressively simpler words. I have grown to loathe many of the juniors in my classes.
• A school wide drug test would cost the school upward of $30k, thus dispelling the rumor that paralyzed our school with fear last week, and which may have started with me (though I honestly wasn't trying to start shit... honest)

Now, bed.

STORY TIME!

Currently Listening To: Odelay (the album) by Beck
Once upon a time, there was young man. This young man had many lucrative career opportunities as a result of his chosen major during his college days. He was in a relationship with a girl who loved him very much, and he loved her too. He lived in an apartment that was reasonably priced, quite spacious and in a great location. He had a very healthy relationship with all members of his family.

The end.

I should become a novelist, what with my gripping story lines?

I love Odelay. It is probably my favorite thing right about now. Things that aren't my favorite include Pad Thai, going back to school tomorrow and Pad Thai in my tummy. Pad Thai is the worst fucking decision I made yesterday. I can only pray that death comes quickly, in the same way that, at least according to the Pet Shop Boys, love comes.

Not Impressed

Currently Watching: Commercials (with men running into each other for thirty seconds every once in a while)
Super Bowl commercials.


Ah.


Some are good, some are great, some just completely fall flat.


And some are astonishingly... "Huh?"


Case in point: Tonight's Under Armor commercial. All I can remember (which is also bad) is at the end, a guy on a balcony was bellowing at a large crowd below, fists shaking in the air, while large red banners with the Under Armor logo flew in the background. Listen, ad execs, your cinema professor in college may have rubbed it off to Triumph of the Will, but most Americans aren't out to appreciate cinematography and whatnot. They see Nazi imagery and think Nazis, and nothing else.

Truly.

And I saw a girl at school on Friday (on our first casual day of the year) wearing a shirt that said "Frankie says relax". Hey, kids, I've got bad news. It's a counterfeit. Frankie say relax, not says. Take it back to Target, or even worse, Urban Outfitters (because if you got it there, you paid like twenty bucks more than at Target and it's still fake).

The Amazing Adventures of Me This Past Weekend

Currently Listening To: Tick Tick Boom by the Hives
So this weekend was interesting.

Scratch that. "It was interesting" is wrong. "Of interest" would be better, because "It was interesting" makes it sound like something bad happened.

Maybe if I stopped trying to describe it through vagueries and instead actually said what happened?

Okay. Friday night. Dane, this guy, that guy, those guys and those girls go to see Cloverfield. For those of you keeping score, that's my third time seeing that movie in theaters, and my fifth movie of 2008. Off to a healthy start. Anyways, it's amazing. We go to Sonic afterwards and I accost many a Sonic employee about how great Cloverfield is, stand on the tables whilst shouting Cloverfield repeatedly and running around while shouting Cloverfield, also repeatedly.

I tend to embarrass my friends a fair bit when we go out.

I guess that's not terribly interesting. What is interesting, you ask? Adrienne, Jenn and I were hiding from Dane (I am a senior and still play a nice game of hide and seek). This was later on Friday night, about 10:30. Adrienne and Jenn run into the girls bathroom. I follow them (a decision I was later asked to defend by a certain school administrator... He told me to not go in the girls' bathroom any more). So we're standing there in the dark in this bathroom at school at almost-eleven on a Friday night. We stand there, in said bathroom, for a few minutes. Hey, maybe a little light action? Sure, lights on. Hey, why not go into the stalls? Sure, back into the stalls--HEY, what are neatly folded jeans doing on the ground at the back wall? Hey, let's get out of here--OH SHIT is that a person in there? Yes, that is a person; a guy, completely naked in curled up in a ball on the toilet in the girls' room.

Naturally, we left. I mean, I don't know why he was sitting there curled up in a ball naked in the dark in the girls room, but at the time, I was less worried about the (I'm sure) fascinating story behind that and more concerned about being raped with a gun. So we left, but waited around outside to see who it was. We ran when the door actually opened, and Dane claims to have seen two fully clothed people walk out, but that doesn't change the fact that we saw one naked one in there.

My theories?

• It was a body snatcher, who proceeded to kill Dane and take over his identity, hence why Dane was so adamant about what he saw.
• It was a Terminator, which explains the nudity. It 'landed' in the girls' room, killing the girl crying her eyes out inside. The Terminator tried to put on her clothes as a disguise, but they didn't fit, so he folded them neatly and waited for someone else to come. If he's the Robert Patrick/T2 type, he possibly could have, again, killed Dane and taken his place.
• It was some child who just had a horrible and traumatizing experience and just needed someone to talk to, and we're horrible people for leaving him in there. And he killed Dane and took his identity.

Don't ask me why, but I think something happened to Dane up there. I mean, there was a considerable gap in time between us leaving and him meeting up with us.

Please note that that story, save for the aliens/robots/murder, is 100% true.

Seriously.

I also saw Atonement last night with Claire, which was AMAZING, as well as my sixth movie this calendar year. Go see that movie NOW.

Astonishing!

Whiners, Diners, Shriners

Currently Watching: The Daily Show
Some people have a lot of nerve. Actually, most people have lots of nerves. Apparently, we're born with them! Surprise, surprise. But some people have even more nerve. So much so, that they don't do schoolwork. Well, often times, neither do I. But these people always have some excuse up their sleeves. Oh, I had such and such commitment.

Er... That vague-ery seems to have been so vague that I now have no other ones. I mean, "commitments" are really their only excuses, but they've got wide ranges.

And I'm sick of it.

I mean, do you homework, or don't. I don't want to hear about you doing this or you doing that. If I do my homework, I get a good grade. If I don't, I'm fucked. Sure, I feel pissed off when I don't have it, but I won't put up a fight. These kids? They'll whine all class long. Listen, I know we've all got our shit. Some more than others. But you signed up for that shit, knowing the shit would shit all over your other shit. So drop that shit, cause I'm tired of your... shit.

Shit.

I really want to go back to that diner we went to after the Hot Hot Heat/Louis XIV concert. I had a Greek omelet, and it was amazing. I would do anything for another.

Well, not anything. But I'd really like one.

Sorry, no Shriners.

Dream Journal Part Infinity

Currently Listening To: You Owe Me An IOU by Hot Hot Heat
So I had another bizarro dream last night.

One of my teachers came to live at my house. It was fine, because she happens to be a likable, human-ish teacher (if that is even possible). But then one day, we're sitting at the dinner table, and she suddenly puts some lines of coke on the table. But the coke isn't white; it's that almost-black shade of gray, so it looks like gunpowder. In fact, it might have been gun powder. And she didn't seem to mind, nor did my dream brother, who looked nothing like anyone in our family and was my age. And we lived in an apartment. In fact, it was the apartment my brother took me to when I visited him at school. So I guess you could say we were living in a flop house.

That's pretty much it.

I've had dreams in the past, too. Read about them. I promise you might not be disappointed.

Hey, I saw a concert on Friday. Louis XIV, Hot Hot Heat, and Editors. SWEET. We were front row (general admission+getting there early=YES!), so I pretty much was closer to Steve Bays and Tom Smith than I am to my math teacher on a daily basis.

And my dream of seeing Juno was dashed yet again. Adrienne and I left school early on Thursday and drove 30 (thirty) (!) minutes to go see it at the nearest theater at the 3:15 showing. The 3:15 showing that was listed on their website. As in, the theater's website. Let me say that another time. The theater's website said 3:15 PM on Thursday. We get there. At 3:15. The doors are locked. Excuse me? We knock on the glass. After a while, a theater employee shows up and... Long story short, they don't show movies before four on school days. So... They're showing it at four, right? WRONG. In two hours, so we can't go. Bitches.

And in other news, I'm watching the Terminator show on FOX right now, and they've got a commercial for the movie 10000BC. That's funny; I didn't think the good people at FOX believed the earth was that old.