Perfection. I haz it.
OH, where where where where WHERE do I begin?
Well, I suppose the beginning may be best.
We arrived at the theater three hours prior showtime- and were the first to do so. Way up in the front, we slowly watched the fans trickle in. T-shirts, pajama bottoms, and often copies of books being opened and shared between groups for review were a trend of the night.
By the time we entered the theater, the collective spirit of the Twilight fandom was in perfect form. Screaming through the previews (particularly during "the unborn", and when kristen stewart walked onscreen for a different movie), it seemed like this was going to be one very, very long night.
But something I love about Twilighters: they want to be there just as much as you do. By the time the Summit logo dawned over that ginormous screen, you could have heard a pin drop.
Better still, all Twilighters share a similar sense of irony, shock, and when things are just so awkward you know that only a true fan could register this for what it is: Meyer-humor. And that movie had it. Thankfully, it was backed up by fairly good special effects (if slightly awful makeup on a couple characters, some fantastic performances, and more wolfy-sparkly-sepia-washington-magic than you can shake a stick at. LET US BREAK IT DOWN!
Brooke Nowakowski's TEN THINGS I LOVE ABOUT THAT MOVIE
10. Cameos, yo!
Stephenie Meyer is made of awesome. Why is this? Well, in the tradition of Stan Lee, she shows up in her movies. This time, writing away on her laptop whilst conversing with the friendly waitress. Next time- who can say? Either way, I do so love that woman.
9. Washington. I LOOOOOVE Washington.
You know, while I am the first to know that Twilight was- in fact- shot in Kalama, Oregon and NOT the Olympic Peninsula, it still tugs at the heartstrings to see my beloved west coast displayed with such camerawork as only Catherine Hardwicke can provide. Roll on, Columbia, roll on.
8. INCONVENIENT SLO-MO WINDS OF WOE
Any fan will immediately recognize the scene in which our unsuspecting Bella meanders in front of a "fan" (teheh), to the immediate discomfort of Mr. Masen-Cullen. However, our personal audience of le night laughs through the entire thing, with cries of gradually louder "ooooooooooooh!". Edward is fierce. Bella is frightened. And immediately, you can just see Melissa Rosenburg (our screenwriter, much love) just sitting at her desk, thinking "They are gonna diiiig this." And oh, we do. We made Twilight for them, now they are making Twilight for us.
7. Through the age-toned looking glass...
Another coolio write-in: we get to see Carlisle and his first two recruits to Camp Cullen at the all-important momento de decision. What follows looks painful, left us wincing with the memory, and is simply exactly how I imagined it. Soooo veeerrry perfeeeect. :D
6. HE LOOKS LIKE A CHRISTMAS ORNAMENT!
Was what I cried to my seatmates as Edward stepped into that convenient shaft of light. Since I know forests in Washington actually do have "shafts of light", I have not grappled with that concept like y Texan peers. Anyhoo. If you have ever seen those christmas ornaments: the ones that look like they've been rolled in sparkly coconut shavings: thats really all I can compare it to. Needless to say, the sight is magical, and shriek inducing for the group of Reaganites congregated below my seat.
5. Two words. Vampire. Baseball.
You know, there will be some people that hated this part. But I really felt as though they pulled off the effect here, and when you set pretty much anything to "Supermassive Black Hole", it becomes significantly awesome. Plus, when Victoria says she's got a wicked curveball, I believed it.
4. There was no small role, and DEFINITELY no small actors.
Jessica, Mike, Tyler, Eric- they were totally showstealers, and I loved it. You could have made a movie on that alone. Cleverly written, perfectly executed, and I bet you Twilight's midnight showing revenue (all seven milion of it, yo!) that these peeps are getting fanclubs as we speak.
3. THAT FUNKY MUSIC, WHITE BOY!
Having been listening to this soundtrack beforehand, I already knew I liked it. Still, while critics scorned it, I was elated to have the nearly perpetual music playing as the film progressed. n00bs won't get it, but for Smeyer, music WAS Twilight. She has a playlist for every book- sometimes specific songs for specific scenes. Once again, might I say that is the movie for the almighty fan. No way Joe the Plumber will understand a bit of it. However, this has not hurt numbers at all, as we will discuss later...
2. Heartstring #29: is pulled.
One scene that made me cry. Bella leaves Charlie. Made me cry in the book, but Billy Burke's AH-MAZAZING performance was absolutely heartbreaking. It moved me, Bob.
1. Jacob. Edward. O THE HATE!
RAAAAAA YES!!! I knew, the moment those two locked eyes, that this series is destined for EPIC AWESOME. They're perfectly cast, Taylor Lautner (aka Sharkboy, AKA JACOB!) is rather adorable even WITH his terrifying wig, and bound to absolutely MAKE New Moon. Which brings me to the part of the blog which excites me most...
BOX OFFICE WIN!!!
Let me quote the Associated Press. Oh yeah- this is legit.
"The film adaptation of Stephenie Meyer's vampire-romance saga scored $7 million from shows at midnight on Thursday, and it's on pace to bank as much as $30 mil on Friday, Variety reports. That Harry Potter-esque sum would rank in the Top 20 of the biggest opening-day grosses in history. Moreover, the film is almost assured of exceeding its expected $60-mil-plus first-weekend haul -- by far."
In other words: Let the New Moon shooting, merchandising, and high-demand-sequel writing BEGIN!!!!!!!!!!
Friday, November 21, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
*technobop*WOOT!!!*technobop*
OHYES!!!
After a series of lukewarm episodes, Heroes has taken a turn for the AWESOME. By this, I mean that the final for the Villians saga, AKA Transition From Writers Strike Which Sucked time to the new and improved Heroes we all know and love is forthcoming. In the preview: Heroes, Eclipse, POWERS BE LOST! ALAS!
I translate this into my new theory for that most awesome show on TV, may it be loved by all. By "Fugitives", the name of the new saga, we can know that EVERYBODY ELSE ON EARTH will have superpowers(!) and the Heroes will not! May I reference The Flight of the Concords: THE HUMANS ARE DEAD!!!
But no- these humans live, and how very human they are! This means awesome stuff for Heroes. New people can come in- because the slate is wiped clean! Normal people in a world of oddity! How will they survive? Will they be hunted to extinction? What about the powered people that help these outcasts?
The epic win has arrived.
Thank you, Tim Kring.
And I dedicate this entry to this catchy little dance tune, "Eurodancer", by some DJ nobody knows. Love you, MC Joe the Plumber.
After a series of lukewarm episodes, Heroes has taken a turn for the AWESOME. By this, I mean that the final for the Villians saga, AKA Transition From Writers Strike Which Sucked time to the new and improved Heroes we all know and love is forthcoming. In the preview: Heroes, Eclipse, POWERS BE LOST! ALAS!
I translate this into my new theory for that most awesome show on TV, may it be loved by all. By "Fugitives", the name of the new saga, we can know that EVERYBODY ELSE ON EARTH will have superpowers(!) and the Heroes will not! May I reference The Flight of the Concords: THE HUMANS ARE DEAD!!!
But no- these humans live, and how very human they are! This means awesome stuff for Heroes. New people can come in- because the slate is wiped clean! Normal people in a world of oddity! How will they survive? Will they be hunted to extinction? What about the powered people that help these outcasts?
The epic win has arrived.
Thank you, Tim Kring.
And I dedicate this entry to this catchy little dance tune, "Eurodancer", by some DJ nobody knows. Love you, MC Joe the Plumber.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Speak it, Maya
In my poetic wanderings tonight, I happened upon something that really made me stop and reconsider an author I'd had little interest in prior today. Maya Angelou- a fantastic writer, as it happens, wrote some simple words that brought a light to my day.
When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not shouting "I'm clean livin'."
I'm whispering "I was lost,
Now I'm found and forgiven."
When I say... "I am a Christian"
I don't speak of this with pride.
I'm confessing that I stumble
and need Christ to be my guide.
When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not trying to be strong.
I'm professing that I'm weak
And need His strength to carry on.
When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not bragging of success.
I'm admitting I have failed
And need God to clean my mess.
When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not claiming to be perfect,
My flaws are far too visible
But, God believes I am worth it.
When I say... "I am a Christian"
I still feel the sting of pain.
I have my share of heartaches
So I call upon His name.
When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not holier than thou,
I was just a simple sinner
Who received God's good grace, somehow!
It makes me think about talking to people here, trying to share what I believe- even when its hard for them to see why some kids that go to church and do the bit down here can live as though Christ is no part of their life. A lot of these people think christians are playing some kind of better-than-you card, or that we think we are superior. I guess if I could say something outright to anybody here, it would just be that I want them to have the chance to feel the way I have felt with God in my life. I believe there are times when things happen that I could never bear alone. And sometimes I wasn't completely alone- I had my family, sometimes a friend- but when its a dark and quiet night, and all the company a troubled mind has is the troubled thoughts that haunt them and God, I know which I will come back to.
As difficult as it is to bring up, I now look back on a very dark time in my life when people ask that hard question: why do you believe in God? I'll never forget it- two years ago this winter season, when my alienation during school was at its worst. I got sick. I wouldn't know it- honestly, I felt somewhat numb to many things at the time, let alone the physical pains that ailed me- and left my room to find my mom. It wasn't smart to go downstairs, but I went down the first flight, flicking on a light as I headed toward the basement. I thought I heard a stir at the bottom when I turned the corner to the last set of steps, and called mom's name. Then, my legs seemed to vanish beneath me, and the warm electric light disappeared.
I remember hurt, everywhere at once- shriekingly painful, but foggy and far-off, even as it ached throughout my being, even though I couldn't make sense of any limbs or the ground beneath. I could hear Mom's voice, but the words seemed just as muddled, and my own response could not be made.
But worse than anything was the blackness. That sheer darkness that blanketed my senses and my soul. Beyond all the strange sensations of unconsciousness, I wondered if I had died; if this is what it felt like, being eternally seperated from everything that mattered. Away from God.
In the reawakening that occured shortly after, I had time to contemplate my experience- and rethink the life I'd begun to consider so worthless and unimportant.
Then again, I've been on the other side of the table as well. Feeling a golden light and warmth when I was submerged in the baptismal waters of Lake Padden, lasting what felt like minutes in what was only seconds.
Knowing, when Calvin Moehn died, how that little boy was safe. Even now, he was not just flickered out of existence; a soul gone like a candle blown out by one gust of wind.
Finding my supposedly-lost necklace of the cross after a day of sharp doubt and wondering if I was ever supposed to be in Texas at all, before collapsing into tears beside my bed, thanking God for speaking to me when I needed him the very most.
I cannot truly relay to the people I have come to love here how His presence in my life has inexorably changed it. But if Maya Angelou said anything, its that we do not boast, but we live our lives with him in focus. And for that ability, I pray frequently.
So thank you, God, for another year. I know I need not wonder how I survived a fall down a flight of stairs headfirst.
10 In a desert land he found him,
in a barren and howling waste.
He shielded him and cared for him;
he guarded him as the apple of his eye,
11 like an eagle that stirs up its nest
and hovers over its young,
that spreads its wings to catch them
and carries them on its pinions.
12 The LORD alone led him;
no foreign god was with him.
You caught me.
When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not shouting "I'm clean livin'."
I'm whispering "I was lost,
Now I'm found and forgiven."
When I say... "I am a Christian"
I don't speak of this with pride.
I'm confessing that I stumble
and need Christ to be my guide.
When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not trying to be strong.
I'm professing that I'm weak
And need His strength to carry on.
When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not bragging of success.
I'm admitting I have failed
And need God to clean my mess.
When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not claiming to be perfect,
My flaws are far too visible
But, God believes I am worth it.
When I say... "I am a Christian"
I still feel the sting of pain.
I have my share of heartaches
So I call upon His name.
When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not holier than thou,
I was just a simple sinner
Who received God's good grace, somehow!
It makes me think about talking to people here, trying to share what I believe- even when its hard for them to see why some kids that go to church and do the bit down here can live as though Christ is no part of their life. A lot of these people think christians are playing some kind of better-than-you card, or that we think we are superior. I guess if I could say something outright to anybody here, it would just be that I want them to have the chance to feel the way I have felt with God in my life. I believe there are times when things happen that I could never bear alone. And sometimes I wasn't completely alone- I had my family, sometimes a friend- but when its a dark and quiet night, and all the company a troubled mind has is the troubled thoughts that haunt them and God, I know which I will come back to.
As difficult as it is to bring up, I now look back on a very dark time in my life when people ask that hard question: why do you believe in God? I'll never forget it- two years ago this winter season, when my alienation during school was at its worst. I got sick. I wouldn't know it- honestly, I felt somewhat numb to many things at the time, let alone the physical pains that ailed me- and left my room to find my mom. It wasn't smart to go downstairs, but I went down the first flight, flicking on a light as I headed toward the basement. I thought I heard a stir at the bottom when I turned the corner to the last set of steps, and called mom's name. Then, my legs seemed to vanish beneath me, and the warm electric light disappeared.
I remember hurt, everywhere at once- shriekingly painful, but foggy and far-off, even as it ached throughout my being, even though I couldn't make sense of any limbs or the ground beneath. I could hear Mom's voice, but the words seemed just as muddled, and my own response could not be made.
But worse than anything was the blackness. That sheer darkness that blanketed my senses and my soul. Beyond all the strange sensations of unconsciousness, I wondered if I had died; if this is what it felt like, being eternally seperated from everything that mattered. Away from God.
In the reawakening that occured shortly after, I had time to contemplate my experience- and rethink the life I'd begun to consider so worthless and unimportant.
Then again, I've been on the other side of the table as well. Feeling a golden light and warmth when I was submerged in the baptismal waters of Lake Padden, lasting what felt like minutes in what was only seconds.
Knowing, when Calvin Moehn died, how that little boy was safe. Even now, he was not just flickered out of existence; a soul gone like a candle blown out by one gust of wind.
Finding my supposedly-lost necklace of the cross after a day of sharp doubt and wondering if I was ever supposed to be in Texas at all, before collapsing into tears beside my bed, thanking God for speaking to me when I needed him the very most.
I cannot truly relay to the people I have come to love here how His presence in my life has inexorably changed it. But if Maya Angelou said anything, its that we do not boast, but we live our lives with him in focus. And for that ability, I pray frequently.
So thank you, God, for another year. I know I need not wonder how I survived a fall down a flight of stairs headfirst.
10 In a desert land he found him,
in a barren and howling waste.
He shielded him and cared for him;
he guarded him as the apple of his eye,
11 like an eagle that stirs up its nest
and hovers over its young,
that spreads its wings to catch them
and carries them on its pinions.
12 The LORD alone led him;
no foreign god was with him.
You caught me.
Oh, our poor, poor celebrities
This is not sarcasm- I am truly starting to feel bad for the guy. As we speak, the Twilight cast (or parts of it) is visiting Hot Topic stores in malls across America for signings, meet/greets, the usual in what has been unofficially dubbed the "tour of terror". But nobody guessed exactly how crazy this would get: proven, as every mall thus far has had to call in police enforcement, helicopters- everything short of the national guard. A quick glimpse at the madness, via a press release from Hot Topic's own admin staff:
"On Monday at 6AM at the San Francisco event, the fans became disorderly and stormed the mall entrance. Mall security, numerous police, fire officials and our team from HT stepped in to calm the crowd and create a safe environment for the fans."
Notice: they leave out the helicopters. ;^D
And FYI- I haven't found my iPod yet. Gar.
And poor Rpattz, the man who cannot take this much longer. I think the fangirls may be driving him mad. A few instances:
"Five minutes in, he's trying to talk but no one can hear him. And then, six minutes in, someone throws him a scarf (which his enforcers quickly confiscate). It's not even Hufflepuff colors. I don't even know. The only thing he said that I was able to make out was "What?"
"One fan who got at least 10 seconds sported a neck tattoo inspired by the book Twilight: an apple with the word lamb next to it.
'Oh, [expletive], is that real?' asked the astonished actor after Alena Marsh displayed it."
Quote:
"But every single time, I get so nervous, and kind of cold sweats, and everything. Every single time. I started crying in Italy. Like, completely involuntarily. [...] Like, do you know when you have the wrong reaction to something? It was really embarrassing. I didn’t even know I was. Kristen, I think, turned around to me. And she’s like, 'Are you crying?' I just found out there’s a whole pile of stuff. So. Yeah. I started crying when people are screaming at me. I really didn’t think that would happen." - Robert Pattinson, following his involuntary *tear,tearing* at SanFran: the Disaster.
In the aftermath of what can only be described at sheer pandemonium across our nation, not only has New Moon gone "into production" and Eclipse begun the scriptwriting process, but the Twilight Soundtrack currently tops the Pop charts, and millions like myself steel ourselves for the imminent midnight release. This has spawned much hilarious commentary.
Some comment/quotes from fellow Twat/Twi/Notlighters:
sithwitch13: He's like a lobster in a tank or something, and you just want to rescue him from all the drooling people with their noses pressed to the glass and release him in a bay somewhere so he can have a fighting chance on his own.
msmanna: If the lobster were smart enough to know what was coming, and was hammering on the glass with its little nippers while screaming, "OH MY GOD, THEY'RE GOING TO BOIL ME AND EAT MY FLESH WITH MELTED BUTTER!"
kijikun: Hot Topic employees aren't even allowed to talk about what happened in SF or any thing else that is happening. I was talking to two of the girls working at Hot Topic yesterday before the Panic at the Disco signing (a very orderly affair, I must say) and the manager came over and was like "yeah we aren't allowed to talk about it. Corp said. So you need to drop it, now."
lyrangalia: I can just see the Hot Topic higher-ups sitting in a room with their heads in their hands while one of them shouts at the front of the room:
"You do not talk about Twilight.
You DO NOT talk about Twilight.
If someone says "sparkle" or goes crazy, cries, the signing is over.
Only 10 customers to a signing.
One signing at a time.
No glitter, no biting.
Signings will go on as long as RPattz doesn't cry.
If this is your first Twilight Event, you HAVE to work security."
From a fake online news site:
"A recent event in San Francisco was particularly disappointing, as only 3,000 fans showed up and all they did was shove each other and possibly give one girl a bloody nose," said Summit VP of marketing Lucas Ledbetter. "If you want a movie targeted at teen girls to be a hit, you need riots of at least 10,000 people and a few dozen of them ending up in the hospital. Our real goal was to to see one or two deaths."
Ledbetter said his company has also been disappointed that fewer than 80% of opening weekend tickets have been sold so far online and that the movie wasn't able to score a coveted spot on the cover of The Economist magazine."
And FYI- I haven't found my iPod yet. Gar.
"On Monday at 6AM at the San Francisco event, the fans became disorderly and stormed the mall entrance. Mall security, numerous police, fire officials and our team from HT stepped in to calm the crowd and create a safe environment for the fans."
Notice: they leave out the helicopters. ;^D
And FYI- I haven't found my iPod yet. Gar.
And poor Rpattz, the man who cannot take this much longer. I think the fangirls may be driving him mad. A few instances:
"Five minutes in, he's trying to talk but no one can hear him. And then, six minutes in, someone throws him a scarf (which his enforcers quickly confiscate). It's not even Hufflepuff colors. I don't even know. The only thing he said that I was able to make out was "What?"
"One fan who got at least 10 seconds sported a neck tattoo inspired by the book Twilight: an apple with the word lamb next to it.
'Oh, [expletive], is that real?' asked the astonished actor after Alena Marsh displayed it."
Quote:
"But every single time, I get so nervous, and kind of cold sweats, and everything. Every single time. I started crying in Italy. Like, completely involuntarily. [...] Like, do you know when you have the wrong reaction to something? It was really embarrassing. I didn’t even know I was. Kristen, I think, turned around to me. And she’s like, 'Are you crying?' I just found out there’s a whole pile of stuff. So. Yeah. I started crying when people are screaming at me. I really didn’t think that would happen." - Robert Pattinson, following his involuntary *tear,tearing* at SanFran: the Disaster.
In the aftermath of what can only be described at sheer pandemonium across our nation, not only has New Moon gone "into production" and Eclipse begun the scriptwriting process, but the Twilight Soundtrack currently tops the Pop charts, and millions like myself steel ourselves for the imminent midnight release. This has spawned much hilarious commentary.
Some comment/quotes from fellow Twat/Twi/Notlighters:
sithwitch13: He's like a lobster in a tank or something, and you just want to rescue him from all the drooling people with their noses pressed to the glass and release him in a bay somewhere so he can have a fighting chance on his own.
msmanna: If the lobster were smart enough to know what was coming, and was hammering on the glass with its little nippers while screaming, "OH MY GOD, THEY'RE GOING TO BOIL ME AND EAT MY FLESH WITH MELTED BUTTER!"
kijikun: Hot Topic employees aren't even allowed to talk about what happened in SF or any thing else that is happening. I was talking to two of the girls working at Hot Topic yesterday before the Panic at the Disco signing (a very orderly affair, I must say) and the manager came over and was like "yeah we aren't allowed to talk about it. Corp said. So you need to drop it, now."
lyrangalia: I can just see the Hot Topic higher-ups sitting in a room with their heads in their hands while one of them shouts at the front of the room:
"You do not talk about Twilight.
You DO NOT talk about Twilight.
If someone says "sparkle" or goes crazy, cries, the signing is over.
Only 10 customers to a signing.
One signing at a time.
No glitter, no biting.
Signings will go on as long as RPattz doesn't cry.
If this is your first Twilight Event, you HAVE to work security."
From a fake online news site:
"A recent event in San Francisco was particularly disappointing, as only 3,000 fans showed up and all they did was shove each other and possibly give one girl a bloody nose," said Summit VP of marketing Lucas Ledbetter. "If you want a movie targeted at teen girls to be a hit, you need riots of at least 10,000 people and a few dozen of them ending up in the hospital. Our real goal was to to see one or two deaths."
Ledbetter said his company has also been disappointed that fewer than 80% of opening weekend tickets have been sold so far online and that the movie wasn't able to score a coveted spot on the cover of The Economist magazine."
And FYI- I haven't found my iPod yet. Gar.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
*silence*
That would be the current soundtrack for my life.
The setup: its opening night. I'm excited, nervous, and a little bit queasy, so I listen to my iPod in the hallway outside the auditorium with this girl who just moved from West Virginia. A short time later, its warmups: and crew is reminding us in the most anxiety-inducing manner possible. Thinking frantically, I lean in through the doorway, set said iPod atop a filing cabinet beside a small black binder, and pop into the black box for warmups.
Show goes great. I go home.
iPod stays.
And at approximately eleven 'o clock last night, I realize this.
But hey, easy job- I just pop into the room tomorrow morning, whisk away my mp3 player, and head off to biology.
Problem #1: iPod is not there.
Problem #2: No one seems to know if an iPod has been found.
Problem #3: I've searched my house, every inch of the theater facility, the car, the garage, the lawn: any place that little device could possibly be. Nothing.
So, as I sit here sobbing to myself, I face the revelation that my iPod has been stolen.
Plainly, I was being an idiot bringing the thing in the first place, but I thought "hey, everyone else does it, why not me?". Even an upperclassmen left his overnight the day before, picked it up the next day, and all's well that ends well.
Furthermore, I should have found a better place. Skipped warmups, gone to the dressing room, found my bag and shoved it to the very bottom, but there again: I thought it would be safe! Why oh why did I ever put an ounce of trust or faith in the human race?
Of these facts I am certain: there was most likely no janitorial presence that night. It was there during the time when we all entered the classroom after the show. It was on top of the filing cabinet, never moved by me. I have witnesses to prove each fact. But this brings to light an all the more painful piece of data: the thief ("fur", in latin: we're studying crime vocabulary this week!) is one of the cast or crew. One of these people that circles up for a group prayer each night before curtain, one that I link arms with each and every time, now knows they have taken something that belongs to me. And thus far, they have shown no remorse.
Its hilarious- the kids of the south have something of a reputation, for the most part. Like being born in the bible belt gives you automatic virtue and morals. For some, that may be true.
But when I stop and think about it, there are people everywhere that will do this without a second thought. And while I personally am going to the vice principal's office tomorrow morning to initiate the investigation process, I know there are some people that would never dare.
Why does this happen?
So excuse me while I beat myself up for being a retard in the highest degree. I have an iPod to find, and I will not get a night of restful sleep until I do.
The setup: its opening night. I'm excited, nervous, and a little bit queasy, so I listen to my iPod in the hallway outside the auditorium with this girl who just moved from West Virginia. A short time later, its warmups: and crew is reminding us in the most anxiety-inducing manner possible. Thinking frantically, I lean in through the doorway, set said iPod atop a filing cabinet beside a small black binder, and pop into the black box for warmups.
Show goes great. I go home.
iPod stays.
And at approximately eleven 'o clock last night, I realize this.
But hey, easy job- I just pop into the room tomorrow morning, whisk away my mp3 player, and head off to biology.
Problem #1: iPod is not there.
Problem #2: No one seems to know if an iPod has been found.
Problem #3: I've searched my house, every inch of the theater facility, the car, the garage, the lawn: any place that little device could possibly be. Nothing.
So, as I sit here sobbing to myself, I face the revelation that my iPod has been stolen.
Plainly, I was being an idiot bringing the thing in the first place, but I thought "hey, everyone else does it, why not me?". Even an upperclassmen left his overnight the day before, picked it up the next day, and all's well that ends well.
Furthermore, I should have found a better place. Skipped warmups, gone to the dressing room, found my bag and shoved it to the very bottom, but there again: I thought it would be safe! Why oh why did I ever put an ounce of trust or faith in the human race?
Of these facts I am certain: there was most likely no janitorial presence that night. It was there during the time when we all entered the classroom after the show. It was on top of the filing cabinet, never moved by me. I have witnesses to prove each fact. But this brings to light an all the more painful piece of data: the thief ("fur", in latin: we're studying crime vocabulary this week!) is one of the cast or crew. One of these people that circles up for a group prayer each night before curtain, one that I link arms with each and every time, now knows they have taken something that belongs to me. And thus far, they have shown no remorse.
Its hilarious- the kids of the south have something of a reputation, for the most part. Like being born in the bible belt gives you automatic virtue and morals. For some, that may be true.
But when I stop and think about it, there are people everywhere that will do this without a second thought. And while I personally am going to the vice principal's office tomorrow morning to initiate the investigation process, I know there are some people that would never dare.
Why does this happen?
So excuse me while I beat myself up for being a retard in the highest degree. I have an iPod to find, and I will not get a night of restful sleep until I do.
Monday, November 3, 2008
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!AYAYAYA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
AYEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TWWWWIIILIIIIIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Watch, and know my sheer elation.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cfKsCVIAbQE
That video is made of win. And Paramore?
Haley Williams- you are too legit to quit, as we say in News Staff.
As you all know- or really, as you sure as heck should know if you are even mildly acquainted with me- seventeen days from now, I will have but one goal and one destination: Northwoods 14, midnight (or two hours prior, so I can attract media attention as I mingle with other similarly neurotic teenagers), theater 7, most likely in or around the back row so I can jump up and scream without obstructing view of that fantastic reel of film which shall bring to life a novel I have dreamed of since July 2007. In Taylor's bedroom. When I uttered three important things that would alter the path of all things to follow.
1. Man..... Edward is kind of a creep, don't you think?
Taylor: NOOOEZ I LOVE EDWARD!
Kaitlyn: *shrug* I like Jasper.
2. Hey..... Jacob is a werewolf!
Taylor: *is scandalized*
Kaitlyn: Don't! I haven't got New Moon yet!
Brooke: WHATWHATWHAT??? ITS JUST A GUESS!
3. This is a weird book.
Taylor: Don't judge it till you read it!
Kaitlyn: You know what would be weird? If it turns out that Remus is really James and they got switched under the willow back when Sirius was trying to trick Snape and that would totally explain all the fatherly-sonly chemistry between Harry and his favvy teacher over the years--
Brooke: DON'T JUDGE TILL YOU READ IT, VAMPIRE!
Taylor: But I love vampires!
Brooke: Vampires suck! I'm siding with the werewolves.
Taylor: But Jacob is a freak!
Brooke: IS NOT!!!
Taylor: YOU HAVEN'T EVEN READ IT YET!!!
Kaitlyn: *sigh*
Its been over a year since my Twilight experience began. A book that accompanied me from north to south, a fond reminder of home in an unfamiliar place, and- while other aspects might not have rendered such merit- the novel with a special place in my heart even now.
So me and Meaghan Cantu, both having tickets to the same showing and being stuck in the same Theater Productions class where all we do is read monologues and discuss this guy from Law and Order who is doing a workshop at our school in a couple weeks (not nearly as interesting as it sounds), decided we need to do something cool. And so I prose a poll- which, I suggest, you vote on- since I cannot make up my own mind.
School has thus far continued to keep me up late, waking up early, and completely exhausted at the times in between- in fact, a few weeks ago, I labored under the impression that I had carried my makeup bag with me for two hours in the morning, lost it in the locker room, and then proceeded to tell all my friends I had been a victim of blatant thievery: only to discover I'd left it on the office desk before I ever left the house. Then there was the clock....waking up at five, thinking the clock said six, panicking and pulling all my stuff together and dressing, then noticing the clock read 5:59 and falling into an tired heap on my bed.
Dontcha just love high school?
But its been fun- and once teams are set and the Trojan Women is over, my schedule quiets down considerably. Which might be nice, lest I get bored. Boredom, however, is the least of my worries, having become part of an unnoficial blood-pact with the people I eat lunch with to write a novel spanning 50,000 words, as a part of National Write a Novel Month. Yes, it exists.
We have it all planned out: deadline, discussion days, and consequences ranging anywhere from sitting in the middle of the walkway and eating lunch alone to shaving Keely from West Virginia's eyebrows off. This looks to be fun.
So everybody- have a fantastic election day (if that is possible.) Watch out for the moose, Dad. And Momitch- much love.
-Me!
Watch, and know my sheer elation.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cfKsCVIAbQE
That video is made of win. And Paramore?
Haley Williams- you are too legit to quit, as we say in News Staff.
As you all know- or really, as you sure as heck should know if you are even mildly acquainted with me- seventeen days from now, I will have but one goal and one destination: Northwoods 14, midnight (or two hours prior, so I can attract media attention as I mingle with other similarly neurotic teenagers), theater 7, most likely in or around the back row so I can jump up and scream without obstructing view of that fantastic reel of film which shall bring to life a novel I have dreamed of since July 2007. In Taylor's bedroom. When I uttered three important things that would alter the path of all things to follow.
1. Man..... Edward is kind of a creep, don't you think?
Taylor: NOOOEZ I LOVE EDWARD!
Kaitlyn: *shrug* I like Jasper.
2. Hey..... Jacob is a werewolf!
Taylor: *is scandalized*
Kaitlyn: Don't! I haven't got New Moon yet!
Brooke: WHATWHATWHAT??? ITS JUST A GUESS!
3. This is a weird book.
Taylor: Don't judge it till you read it!
Kaitlyn: You know what would be weird? If it turns out that Remus is really James and they got switched under the willow back when Sirius was trying to trick Snape and that would totally explain all the fatherly-sonly chemistry between Harry and his favvy teacher over the years--
Brooke: DON'T JUDGE TILL YOU READ IT, VAMPIRE!
Taylor: But I love vampires!
Brooke: Vampires suck! I'm siding with the werewolves.
Taylor: But Jacob is a freak!
Brooke: IS NOT!!!
Taylor: YOU HAVEN'T EVEN READ IT YET!!!
Kaitlyn: *sigh*
Its been over a year since my Twilight experience began. A book that accompanied me from north to south, a fond reminder of home in an unfamiliar place, and- while other aspects might not have rendered such merit- the novel with a special place in my heart even now.
So me and Meaghan Cantu, both having tickets to the same showing and being stuck in the same Theater Productions class where all we do is read monologues and discuss this guy from Law and Order who is doing a workshop at our school in a couple weeks (not nearly as interesting as it sounds), decided we need to do something cool. And so I prose a poll- which, I suggest, you vote on- since I cannot make up my own mind.
School has thus far continued to keep me up late, waking up early, and completely exhausted at the times in between- in fact, a few weeks ago, I labored under the impression that I had carried my makeup bag with me for two hours in the morning, lost it in the locker room, and then proceeded to tell all my friends I had been a victim of blatant thievery: only to discover I'd left it on the office desk before I ever left the house. Then there was the clock....waking up at five, thinking the clock said six, panicking and pulling all my stuff together and dressing, then noticing the clock read 5:59 and falling into an tired heap on my bed.
Dontcha just love high school?
But its been fun- and once teams are set and the Trojan Women is over, my schedule quiets down considerably. Which might be nice, lest I get bored. Boredom, however, is the least of my worries, having become part of an unnoficial blood-pact with the people I eat lunch with to write a novel spanning 50,000 words, as a part of National Write a Novel Month. Yes, it exists.
We have it all planned out: deadline, discussion days, and consequences ranging anywhere from sitting in the middle of the walkway and eating lunch alone to shaving Keely from West Virginia's eyebrows off. This looks to be fun.
So everybody- have a fantastic election day (if that is possible.) Watch out for the moose, Dad. And Momitch- much love.
-Me!
Sunday, November 2, 2008
*head explodes*
I am currently laughing so hard, tears are streaming from my eyes. And- for once- I must leech off another's writing, just to share this with everyone. The worst book ever has been found. And I am in hysterics. Enjoy, courtesy of Amazon.com:
"Trapped under a beam with the countdown ticking away, the monster just on the other side of the battered door, and my friends are trying to free me, I look up at them and yell, "Go on without me. I'll be alright. I'll hold him off while you escape!" And my friends, because they know my sacrifice won't be in vain, make their getaway and when the monster breaks through just as the explosives go off, I know I died saving the lives of my dearest friends."
That pretty much sums up my experience reading Aaron Rayburn's novel, THE SHADOW GOD. I took one for the team, so the rest of you would NEVER have to be subjected to this beast. I beg you, don't let my selflessness be for nothing. Heed my warning. This is the worst book ever written."
*endless snorkling*
The back cover copy reads "Craig Johnson had two best friends, two caring parents, a hot girlfriend, and a nice truck--not bad for a twenty-year-old." Already we're in trouble. The author photo shows Rayburn in all his mid-20s virginal glory. Manson contacts, a black cap turned backwards with a red 666 monogrammed on it, he's posing next to what looks like a rubber demon. His bio includes the line "He also says that he owes a great deal of gratitude to the Devil . . . for filling his mind with such horrific images."
If this book is the most horrific thing the devil can come up, I think humanity is safe from the threat of hell.
There are so many things wrong with this book, I decided to keep notes so I could present them in an orderly fashion, with quotes to back me up. I don't want you to take my word for this novel's horridness, I'm going to let Rayburn speak for himself. We'll start with the plot.
Craig Johnson was cursed at birth when his parents left the town church led by the possibly-evil Father Spiers. Spiers then tricked Craig's father Matt into strangling him, only in the end, Matt had killed, not Father Spiers, but one of the doctors. So Matt's been in jail Craig's entire life. Shortly after Craig's 20th birthday he begins to notice a blue light emanating from his bedroom closet. He calls for his mommy (I'm not making that up, it's on page 14), but she doesn't see any light, so he plays it off like he'd seen a rat, and asks her to check in his closet. After she leaves, Craig is compelled to enter the light, which takes him to the Dark World, which is sometimes like a vast black void, paved of course cuz you have to have something to walk on in a void, and sometimes is like Craig's own neighborhood, complete with the houses of his friends. Those friends, Todd and Mark, are also pulled into the Dark World, but they make their escape and then begins the action as the three try to solve the mystery of the blue light and the dark world. To sum up--this book is 454 pages, okay?--Craig is the reincarnation of Abel, the Shadow God is Cain, and Father Spiers is Cain's acolyte, sent to prepare for his return to the real world. In the midst of all this Mark is killed and resurrected by Ridley, a club owner/satanist (he runs The Satanist Group Association. Again, I wish I was making this up!) and servant to Spiers and the Shadow God.
Craig's girlfriend, his mother, his father, as well as Mark's sister Margie and Todd's parents, are all killed and the cops think Craig did it. One cop does, anyway, Detective Jim Underwood, son of the doctor Craig's father Matt strangled to death 20 years earlier. DUN-DUN-DUN!!! There's a showdown where Craig is sucked into another portal to face Cain, who then becomes a dragon, and Todd jumps in to help his friend, they all die--except Craig--and we live happily ever after.
Okay, I know it doesn't seem THAT bad from the plot. But I haven't begun quoting yet. Mark Twain said, "The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and the lightning bug."
Rayburn wasn't even close.
"Spiers's eyes popped extraneously from their sockets, as his face turned from a deep red to a sickly purple."
"Extraneous" means "irrelevant." I don't think that's what he meant. At least, I hope not.
Here's my favorite:
"The lamp's glow was very weak compared to the blue glow emancipating from the basement."
Emanating, Rayburn, EMANATING. When will people learn never to trust their SpellCheck without verifying it's the word they meant??? There are, in total, 11 instances of Rayburn using the wrong word, and believe me, each one is funnier than the last.
Okay, one more.
"It infiltrated his lungs, filling them with a kind of innovativeness he had never felt before."
To be honest, I don't know what word he meant, but I keep seeing Craig's lung filing patents for a dozen new inventions, getting promotions for discovering an even newer formula for Tide laundry detergent, or finding the cure for cancer.
Then there are the characters. Craig and his buddies are all 20, they're in college, and they have cars and money. Craig bribes the guard with hundred dollar bills when he's trying to get in to see his father in
prison. Yet never in the entire book do these men go to class, nor to a job. Where did Craig get his "nice truck"? His mother works "odd jobs", so I doubt she co-signed the loan.
And the dialogue. Oh dear, the dialogue.
"That's probably the fiercest dragon known to man," Craig tells Todd toward the end. Because, you know, we have so many different kinds of dragons in the world with which to compare.
Okay, so he uses the wrong word and his characters are morons. You can overlook a misused word here and LOTS of writers are horrible with characters. Hell, I'm guilty of this myself. But sometimes he just
plain gets his facts WRONG:
"The stranger was beastly in size with thick, bushy eyebrows, a prominent protruding forehead, and a thick, black coarse beard. His gait was that of a mammal--a Neanderthal."
I know I never went to college, but um . . . do you think Rayburn knows HUMAN BEINGS are mammals as well?
And later we learn that Cain and Abel were Neanderthals who lived in the stone age, feared dinosaurs, and that Cain was kicked out of the Garden of Eden for slaying his brother. Dude, Cain and Abel weren't born until a LONG time after Adam and Eve--the only two people who ever lived in the Garden of Eden--were kicked out.
And not only is this the worst book ever written, it's also the worst-written book ever.
Behold:
"Of all the things to think, he never thought he'd think that."
And:
"Already, he knew he wouldn't be able to do it. In fact, he KNEW he wouldn't."
???
Wasn't that already established in the previous sentence?
"Eubanks looked annoyed. He exhaled annoyingly and said..."
You know what? I could do this all night.
THE SHADOW GOD is the perfect example of everything that's wrong with publishing in today's world. Anyone with the notion--talent or not--can write a "book", then contact a place like AuthorHouse ("publisher" of this fine volume and, I'm sure, Rayburn's second novel which I don't care enough to look up the title to), and unleash this mess on an unsuspecting world. And then we wonder why no one reads anymore. Why should they? If this is the kind of stuff they're being subjected to.
Used to be a writer had to learn to WRITE before they could get published. Now, all you need is a couple thousand dollars and you got yourself a book. Talent? Who needs it? Skill? What for? Learning to write? Are you kidding me? Forget about it, I've got this here manyooscript and an address I can get it printed, I'mma be one of dem novelists. Riches, here I comes!!!
It's enough to make aspiring writers want to give up seeking legitimate publishing venues. Please don't. Just be sure to write better than this guy."
"Trapped under a beam with the countdown ticking away, the monster just on the other side of the battered door, and my friends are trying to free me, I look up at them and yell, "Go on without me. I'll be alright. I'll hold him off while you escape!" And my friends, because they know my sacrifice won't be in vain, make their getaway and when the monster breaks through just as the explosives go off, I know I died saving the lives of my dearest friends."
That pretty much sums up my experience reading Aaron Rayburn's novel, THE SHADOW GOD. I took one for the team, so the rest of you would NEVER have to be subjected to this beast. I beg you, don't let my selflessness be for nothing. Heed my warning. This is the worst book ever written."
*endless snorkling*
The back cover copy reads "Craig Johnson had two best friends, two caring parents, a hot girlfriend, and a nice truck--not bad for a twenty-year-old." Already we're in trouble. The author photo shows Rayburn in all his mid-20s virginal glory. Manson contacts, a black cap turned backwards with a red 666 monogrammed on it, he's posing next to what looks like a rubber demon. His bio includes the line "He also says that he owes a great deal of gratitude to the Devil . . . for filling his mind with such horrific images."
If this book is the most horrific thing the devil can come up, I think humanity is safe from the threat of hell.
There are so many things wrong with this book, I decided to keep notes so I could present them in an orderly fashion, with quotes to back me up. I don't want you to take my word for this novel's horridness, I'm going to let Rayburn speak for himself. We'll start with the plot.
Craig Johnson was cursed at birth when his parents left the town church led by the possibly-evil Father Spiers. Spiers then tricked Craig's father Matt into strangling him, only in the end, Matt had killed, not Father Spiers, but one of the doctors. So Matt's been in jail Craig's entire life. Shortly after Craig's 20th birthday he begins to notice a blue light emanating from his bedroom closet. He calls for his mommy (I'm not making that up, it's on page 14), but she doesn't see any light, so he plays it off like he'd seen a rat, and asks her to check in his closet. After she leaves, Craig is compelled to enter the light, which takes him to the Dark World, which is sometimes like a vast black void, paved of course cuz you have to have something to walk on in a void, and sometimes is like Craig's own neighborhood, complete with the houses of his friends. Those friends, Todd and Mark, are also pulled into the Dark World, but they make their escape and then begins the action as the three try to solve the mystery of the blue light and the dark world. To sum up--this book is 454 pages, okay?--Craig is the reincarnation of Abel, the Shadow God is Cain, and Father Spiers is Cain's acolyte, sent to prepare for his return to the real world. In the midst of all this Mark is killed and resurrected by Ridley, a club owner/satanist (he runs The Satanist Group Association. Again, I wish I was making this up!) and servant to Spiers and the Shadow God.
Craig's girlfriend, his mother, his father, as well as Mark's sister Margie and Todd's parents, are all killed and the cops think Craig did it. One cop does, anyway, Detective Jim Underwood, son of the doctor Craig's father Matt strangled to death 20 years earlier. DUN-DUN-DUN!!! There's a showdown where Craig is sucked into another portal to face Cain, who then becomes a dragon, and Todd jumps in to help his friend, they all die--except Craig--and we live happily ever after.
Okay, I know it doesn't seem THAT bad from the plot. But I haven't begun quoting yet. Mark Twain said, "The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and the lightning bug."
Rayburn wasn't even close.
"Spiers's eyes popped extraneously from their sockets, as his face turned from a deep red to a sickly purple."
"Extraneous" means "irrelevant." I don't think that's what he meant. At least, I hope not.
Here's my favorite:
"The lamp's glow was very weak compared to the blue glow emancipating from the basement."
Emanating, Rayburn, EMANATING. When will people learn never to trust their SpellCheck without verifying it's the word they meant??? There are, in total, 11 instances of Rayburn using the wrong word, and believe me, each one is funnier than the last.
Okay, one more.
"It infiltrated his lungs, filling them with a kind of innovativeness he had never felt before."
To be honest, I don't know what word he meant, but I keep seeing Craig's lung filing patents for a dozen new inventions, getting promotions for discovering an even newer formula for Tide laundry detergent, or finding the cure for cancer.
Then there are the characters. Craig and his buddies are all 20, they're in college, and they have cars and money. Craig bribes the guard with hundred dollar bills when he's trying to get in to see his father in
prison. Yet never in the entire book do these men go to class, nor to a job. Where did Craig get his "nice truck"? His mother works "odd jobs", so I doubt she co-signed the loan.
And the dialogue. Oh dear, the dialogue.
"That's probably the fiercest dragon known to man," Craig tells Todd toward the end. Because, you know, we have so many different kinds of dragons in the world with which to compare.
Okay, so he uses the wrong word and his characters are morons. You can overlook a misused word here and LOTS of writers are horrible with characters. Hell, I'm guilty of this myself. But sometimes he just
plain gets his facts WRONG:
"The stranger was beastly in size with thick, bushy eyebrows, a prominent protruding forehead, and a thick, black coarse beard. His gait was that of a mammal--a Neanderthal."
I know I never went to college, but um . . . do you think Rayburn knows HUMAN BEINGS are mammals as well?
And later we learn that Cain and Abel were Neanderthals who lived in the stone age, feared dinosaurs, and that Cain was kicked out of the Garden of Eden for slaying his brother. Dude, Cain and Abel weren't born until a LONG time after Adam and Eve--the only two people who ever lived in the Garden of Eden--were kicked out.
And not only is this the worst book ever written, it's also the worst-written book ever.
Behold:
"Of all the things to think, he never thought he'd think that."
And:
"Already, he knew he wouldn't be able to do it. In fact, he KNEW he wouldn't."
???
Wasn't that already established in the previous sentence?
"Eubanks looked annoyed. He exhaled annoyingly and said..."
You know what? I could do this all night.
THE SHADOW GOD is the perfect example of everything that's wrong with publishing in today's world. Anyone with the notion--talent or not--can write a "book", then contact a place like AuthorHouse ("publisher" of this fine volume and, I'm sure, Rayburn's second novel which I don't care enough to look up the title to), and unleash this mess on an unsuspecting world. And then we wonder why no one reads anymore. Why should they? If this is the kind of stuff they're being subjected to.
Used to be a writer had to learn to WRITE before they could get published. Now, all you need is a couple thousand dollars and you got yourself a book. Talent? Who needs it? Skill? What for? Learning to write? Are you kidding me? Forget about it, I've got this here manyooscript and an address I can get it printed, I'mma be one of dem novelists. Riches, here I comes!!!
It's enough to make aspiring writers want to give up seeking legitimate publishing venues. Please don't. Just be sure to write better than this guy."
Friday, October 24, 2008
Since I know I'm going to be busy...
...with journalism this weekend, just thought I ought to post a new entry.
*pleased sigh* I didn't have to go to practice eeeearrllly this morning.
Instead, I went to Student Council, where we discussed fundraisers and various other matters of trivial consideration. Tonight I look forward to berating my mother for giving me MITCHELL'S LUNCH after MITCHELL refused to open the door to let me get my cellphone! But *sigh*, I am okay now, albeit rather hungry and without a phone. But you can't blame me! Who eats go-gurts and sandwiches with nothing but ham on them?
Journalism continues to progress splendidly- although, for reasons yet to be determined, whenever you go to myspace video it immediately directs you to the NEISD home page. Like- oh, you wandering adolescent, read some Encyclopedia Britiannica!
The weather has more of a bite to it nowadays, but regardless, I continue to wear shorts and sweat profusely in the hot sunlight of Texas. I look forward to doing a fair bit of that this afternoon, as we rally for a hopeless game against Reagan. Its kind of hilarious- we made t-shirts saying "Blue In, Green Out". Problem being, "Green Out" was Reagan's idea of a clever pun based on A&M's "Maroon Out", and thus, we are suffering from an unfortunate case of pun-of-a-pun due to the fact that our cheerleaders cannot make a clever slogan to save their lives.
Aside from this, very little has gone on in the Johnson circuit these days. Aside from the idea of a "Mr. Johnson Beauty Pagaent" (do not ask), I have been rehearsing like crazy! And I gotta go. Now. So---byebye!
*pleased sigh* I didn't have to go to practice eeeearrllly this morning.
Instead, I went to Student Council, where we discussed fundraisers and various other matters of trivial consideration. Tonight I look forward to berating my mother for giving me MITCHELL'S LUNCH after MITCHELL refused to open the door to let me get my cellphone! But *sigh*, I am okay now, albeit rather hungry and without a phone. But you can't blame me! Who eats go-gurts and sandwiches with nothing but ham on them?
Journalism continues to progress splendidly- although, for reasons yet to be determined, whenever you go to myspace video it immediately directs you to the NEISD home page. Like- oh, you wandering adolescent, read some Encyclopedia Britiannica!
The weather has more of a bite to it nowadays, but regardless, I continue to wear shorts and sweat profusely in the hot sunlight of Texas. I look forward to doing a fair bit of that this afternoon, as we rally for a hopeless game against Reagan. Its kind of hilarious- we made t-shirts saying "Blue In, Green Out". Problem being, "Green Out" was Reagan's idea of a clever pun based on A&M's "Maroon Out", and thus, we are suffering from an unfortunate case of pun-of-a-pun due to the fact that our cheerleaders cannot make a clever slogan to save their lives.
Aside from this, very little has gone on in the Johnson circuit these days. Aside from the idea of a "Mr. Johnson Beauty Pagaent" (do not ask), I have been rehearsing like crazy! And I gotta go. Now. So---byebye!
Thursday, October 16, 2008
THE LULLABY, SHE COMES!!!
A thing of perpetual pondering amongst Twilighters since the announcement of the movie has been made remains as such:
WHEN WILL THEY PUT IN THE LULLABY???
Well, I was just informed by my journalism teacher (long story) that Hot Topic will be "airing" the full soundtrack the evening of the 24th at all its chains nationwide, which means one of two things.
ONE- I will hear the soundtrack TWO HOURS before you west coast SUCKAAAAAS!!!!
and
TWO- I may be recruited to photojournal the event. *sigh* But its cool.
You heard it here first! And now I have to start working- so adios, and AYAYAYA!!!
*ps...still muuuuuuy feliz la maya es muerta, si?*
WHEN WILL THEY PUT IN THE LULLABY???
Well, I was just informed by my journalism teacher (long story) that Hot Topic will be "airing" the full soundtrack the evening of the 24th at all its chains nationwide, which means one of two things.
ONE- I will hear the soundtrack TWO HOURS before you west coast SUCKAAAAAS!!!!
and
TWO- I may be recruited to photojournal the event. *sigh* But its cool.
You heard it here first! And now I have to start working- so adios, and AYAYAYA!!!
*ps...still muuuuuuy feliz la maya es muerta, si?*
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
*yay!*
AT LAST, MY DREAM IS REALIZED!!!
I would like to dedicate this moment in song. Enjoy.
Its a thing I've dreamt of since the day she raced onscreen with Alejandro- the man who time (and his own sister) forgot. For once, Mohinder did something right. (although I personally am enjoying his chaotic-justice complex right about now.)
And while it may be hard for some to swallow (if it is, I prose: WTH is wrong with you???), it is the truth: straight up from heroestheseries.com's correspondent with E!. And let me tell you- that chick is NEVER wrong.
So while we await the sure-to-be-clever return of Ando, the sheer awesomeness that will be Papa P, and the nightmares sure to follow once Claire and Co. butt heads with the puppetmaster- a few spoilers to hold you over. Think of them as appetizers for an inexplicably savory main course!
Well, you heard it here first: we are going to lose Adam. However, my delirious happiness will be obvious to anyone who fans with me on this series, since my three main issues with season 2 were as follows:
1. Maya.
2. Elle-ctric Slide (though she kind of grew on me once she quit trying to snatch peter from singledom)
3. THE GUY WHO TRIED KILLING HIRO, DARN HIM!!! Also known as: Adam Monroe, the psuedo-Claire from feudal Japan. Which, by the way, is not the type of place you wanna head to over thanksgiving break. At the very least, leave the kids at home.
With Elle permanently depressed and going loner on us- just the way I like it- my problems with Heroes are disappearing fast. Also, given the great thought I put into the viewing of each episode, I am rarely stalled by the confusion that plagues most viewers of this most spectacular show. But while I enjoy it so very much, I have to say- if they cancel it, I may just stop watching TV altogether. Office aside, Heroes is the best thing on the screen right now. Even better than the debates, if you ask me- and yes, I did watch the majority of these latest borefests, and yes, it was more and more of the same old thing. So as the government, economy and weather patterns of texas continue to baffle and disappoint, one thing can always be counted on: monday nights, and all the joys they bring.
And no, I don't mean football.
Other news...is brief, since this is a spoiler post and my mom is nagging me to sleep, although I will undoubtedly sleep at 10:30 and wake up at 6:27 as I do every night since my dreams have started coming back. Not sure why, but I have been having them like crazy lately. First time I'm in somebody's house off northshore by the silver beach grocery- listening to this guy talk about how he disposed of his brother's remains in the ocean and reading what claire ordered off on-demand in season 1- and in the second, taking a bus ride with this incompetent chick I know driving the thing, while people fly out the windows as we careen around Johnson. You know, I would kill for a MEANINGFUL dream once in a while. I mean, one where my classmates are NOT inexplicably milling around Britton road.
Argh, she nags again.
(sorry mom- i still love you)
ADIOS!!!
(AND VIVA SPIDERMO!!!)
I would like to dedicate this moment in song. Enjoy.
Its a thing I've dreamt of since the day she raced onscreen with Alejandro- the man who time (and his own sister) forgot. For once, Mohinder did something right. (although I personally am enjoying his chaotic-justice complex right about now.)
And while it may be hard for some to swallow (if it is, I prose: WTH is wrong with you???), it is the truth: straight up from heroestheseries.com's correspondent with E!. And let me tell you- that chick is NEVER wrong.
So while we await the sure-to-be-clever return of Ando, the sheer awesomeness that will be Papa P, and the nightmares sure to follow once Claire and Co. butt heads with the puppetmaster- a few spoilers to hold you over. Think of them as appetizers for an inexplicably savory main course!
Well, you heard it here first: we are going to lose Adam. However, my delirious happiness will be obvious to anyone who fans with me on this series, since my three main issues with season 2 were as follows:
1. Maya.
2. Elle-ctric Slide (though she kind of grew on me once she quit trying to snatch peter from singledom)
3. THE GUY WHO TRIED KILLING HIRO, DARN HIM!!! Also known as: Adam Monroe, the psuedo-Claire from feudal Japan. Which, by the way, is not the type of place you wanna head to over thanksgiving break. At the very least, leave the kids at home.
With Elle permanently depressed and going loner on us- just the way I like it- my problems with Heroes are disappearing fast. Also, given the great thought I put into the viewing of each episode, I am rarely stalled by the confusion that plagues most viewers of this most spectacular show. But while I enjoy it so very much, I have to say- if they cancel it, I may just stop watching TV altogether. Office aside, Heroes is the best thing on the screen right now. Even better than the debates, if you ask me- and yes, I did watch the majority of these latest borefests, and yes, it was more and more of the same old thing. So as the government, economy and weather patterns of texas continue to baffle and disappoint, one thing can always be counted on: monday nights, and all the joys they bring.
And no, I don't mean football.
Other news...is brief, since this is a spoiler post and my mom is nagging me to sleep, although I will undoubtedly sleep at 10:30 and wake up at 6:27 as I do every night since my dreams have started coming back. Not sure why, but I have been having them like crazy lately. First time I'm in somebody's house off northshore by the silver beach grocery- listening to this guy talk about how he disposed of his brother's remains in the ocean and reading what claire ordered off on-demand in season 1- and in the second, taking a bus ride with this incompetent chick I know driving the thing, while people fly out the windows as we careen around Johnson. You know, I would kill for a MEANINGFUL dream once in a while. I mean, one where my classmates are NOT inexplicably milling around Britton road.
Argh, she nags again.
(sorry mom- i still love you)
ADIOS!!!
(AND VIVA SPIDERMO!!!)
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