Vacation all I ever wanted.......

Sometimes I still can't believe I begged my mother for some of her hard earned cash to go see the Go-Go's.

Ah, youth. It really is wasted on the young.

But, chicos and chicas, I am out of here this afternoon and am on vacation for the next 16, that's right count'em sucaz, 16 glorious days.

Of course a hefty part of my glorious 16 days will be spent cleaning house, cooking, READING (!!!!!) and just generally goofing off.

And, hopefully if the planets line up just right, getting a new computer.

See ya!

Elmo got's personal boundary issues.

I just took some "which Sesame Street character are you" quiz.

And it turns out that I am (drumroll please) ............ELMO.

Um, ok, I guess. As long as somebody (who isn't on the list*) doesn't try to tickle me, I guess I'll be ok.

*Applications to be on the list available with sase.

And who says stupidity isn't illegal?

Check this shit...



Which is worse?

That this jackass is trying to cop his 15 minutes of fame by telling himself and anybody that'll listen that the Holocaust didn't happen, or that the government is wasting the taxpayers money by arresting and detaining him. How do you punish stupid?

Yes, I'm sure that his denials are hurtful to families who were torn apart, had their legacies stolen from future generations and the effects of that terrible crime agaist humanity that just keeps perpetuatting itself on future generations, cause, let's face it, no matter how hard a parent might try, their upbringing rubs off on their children.

But there are some people who are just out for attention. This guy might as well be wearing a pointy purple hat, jumping up and down waving a flag hollering, look at me, look at me.

Some people defy explanation. There isn't much else to do besides shake your head and walk off from them.

You can't be too carefulf, stupidity just might be catchy.

The journey of a thousand miles begins with one film project.

Ok, so I got the film project done last night with minimal muss and fuss. Popped by dvd of Fargo in, gave the class technical guru a list of the scenes I wanted him to play and let 'er rip. I got a couple of chuckles out of the instructor and a few jaws dropped when Steve Busemi shot and then kicked the shit out of Harve Presnell, and I was like, "what, you folks never saw this movie, do you live under a rock or what?" Anyway, my instructor will "evaluate" us and let us know how we did next week. And I'm not sure why he bothered to say that he would challenge our choices, he didn't ask one question of anybody, Not that I'm complaining. On a lighter note I think I managed to bluff my way passed that feeling of "gee, I hope this doesn't come across like I just selected this last night and I really unprepared," feeling, a classmate came running into class with her video-store receipt in her hand and tossed a copy of "When Harry met Sally" into the machine. And of fucking-course she had to use the diner/fake-orgasm scene. Pardon me, but how on earth can somebody put that much effort into ordering pie ala mode and not put that much into communicating to her lover what she needs to get her hump on and settle for faking it? I just don't get it.

Have I mentioned lately that I tend to pass on chick flicks in favor of murder mysteries and documentaries anyway. And I don't embrace the idea of this new kinder, gentler Martha Stewart either, I always looked up to her as a "stay out of arms reach until I'm sure you aren't icky" kind of role model, she could really pull tht off without being offensive.

In other developments, my best friend is coming from Florida with her baby and husband for Thanksgiving! So very hopeful that her family doesn't feel the need to plan her entire time here, they should be considerate and give me a little of her time to monopolize. And thank whoever my book review is not due tonight. I was thinking about starting to sweat that one until I got in this morning and checked my e-mail, my instructor finally deemed me worthy of a response. Damnit, three ignored e-mails are enough, don't make me call your secretary.

The big project on my mind for next week is getting my desk area put together in my bedroom. I'm pulling a fifteen hour load at school come Spring semester and I will never be able to get it all done in slack time at work. Goody, I'll have two desks that look like a tornado hit them. So what, got to get that degree. Why did I do this to myself? Why didn't I take college more seriously the first time around? Cause I'm an Olympic caliber procrastinator, that's why. But I'm still ambivalent about the future post degree. I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up.

There must be a shortage of assholes in tweed jackets somewhere.

My Sociology instructor ran through the lecture last night like his backside was on fire, dismissed class and was the first one out the door. Hey, sorry we kept you. Here, take my e-mail and just let me know next week if you're feeling the same way and I won't even bother to show up. If I wanted to deal with somebody that's in a shitty mood I have broader horizons than you offer that don't require a fourty mile drive home afterward. Go home and be in a shitty mood with your wife.

I thought that after we'd missed two weeks due to Hurricane Rita and another two weeks with a holiday and a Doctor of Sociology Retreat somewhere out west that he just HAD to attend, it would be smooth sailing. We'd be behind, have to rush to catch up and then he'd decide that there would be no way we could catch up and screw it anyway, just show up for lecture, forget about the last three chapters, and the final is not comprehensive. WRONG.

And this does not by any stretch of the imagination serve as an excuse on my part for the fact that I'm lazy about getting the reading done or that I can procrastinate like nobody's business, cause hey, the day that procrastinating becomes an Olympic sport, I'm going to be team captain. I don't get anything done as soon as I'd like to, therefore I feel like nothin is done as well as I'd like it to be. Even now I've got a book review that's due tomorrow night that I haven't even opened up a new document window for. At least this time I can be grateful that I did infact read the book. Even if it was by flashlight when Hurricane Rita came through and I couldn't watch tv for two days. I've got a film project due tonight in my Communications class that I didn't even bother putting in the dvd for until last night after aforementioned fourty mile drive home, shower, and watching Anderson Cooper getting his "aura" read by some lady who hires hersef out to parties to read auras. You could tell by the look on his face that he was so not buying in. For a second I thought he was gonna go off on her like she was a government functionary in New Orleans after a hurricane.

So this film project, it's a strange one. Pick a movie and find four scenes that demonstrate the following:

Win - Win, Win - Loose, Loose - Loose, Loose - Win.

But you have to challenge the instructor's mind with your choices and be ready to defend your choice of film. No sex, language is ok. (And no, the instructor doesn't have to defend his coming up with this assignment.)

At first I was going to use Pulp Fiction. It has got to be one of my all time favorite movies. But then when I started running through it in my mind, there aren't that many scenes in Pulp Fiction that don't have "fuck" or "nigger" peppered throughout them and while foul language doesn't bother me in the least, there are a couple of very nice older ladies in my class that I would not want to offend. And then I couldn't decide if Uma Thurman's heart shot scene was Win - Loose, or Loose - Win. Altough Ving Rhames definetly lost out in that pawn shop basement scene, talk about taking one for the team. Ewwww.

So, last night in the shower I decided that it was up to the Coen brothers to pull my collective fat out of the fire and went with Fargo. Face facts, some of the characters in that movie could keep a head shrinker busy for years.

Hell, facing facts, so could I.