After spending far more time than I'm comfortable admitting to searching for appropriate backgrounds for my own customized Twitter homepage, I barfed up my first thought. As Twitters go, it was relatively unremarkable: "I secretly made a Twitter. Don't tell Matt." But it was a first, and it belonged only to me (and probably also to the owners and creators of Twitter -- I didn't read any terms of use agreement, so please don't sue me. You can have it.)
I'm now following a whopping nineteen Twitter users, whose spontaneous attempts to be funny, insightful, or interesting, are instantaneously accessible to me. Frankly, I'm not sure how I lived before Twitter text messaged me my friends' complaints about homework or classes or food at the dining hall. But best of all, Twitter provides me insight into the minds of celebrities who, let's face it, I will never have the privilege to meet or talk to in real life. To feel better about this addiction, I chose to follow a columnist for the New York Times. Then, to be amused, I chose to follow several comedians, including one Michael Ian Black. Michael Ian Black twitters frequently, and of all the vomit spewed onto my page, his is among that which I enjoy the most. Tonight, Michael Ian Black argued, via Twitter posts, with several followers who tried to redefine his concept of "flying unicorns." As an experiment, I replied to one of his Twitter posts. He stopped responding.
I will never be acknowledged by a celebrity. All I wanted was for a fucking celebrity to reply to one of my Twitter posts. I was close, even, to having a Twitter conversation with one! But Michael Ian Black (who I actually just referred to by initials, before recognizing them as the same initials on the Men in Black posters and changing them) didn't give me the time of day. To be fair, he did Twitter a link to a blog about the incident several minutes later. As of this moment, I am choosing to believe that Michael Ian Black didn't reply to me solely because he was busy writing a blog, and as someone currently writing a blog, I can forgive him. As long as it doesn't happen again.
Have a heart. Twitter me.
- Location:712
In other news, this weekend was pretty good. The weather sucked, but it's currently snowing, and the possibility of accumulation in Richmond intrigues me. I'll see where this goes. How much would I love not to have classes tomorrow? We'll see how that goes.
I discovered Twitter this weekend, thanks to Ada, and it might be my current favorite thing. I'm following a bunch of my friends and Thomas Friedman, a columnist for the New York Times. I'm not following any celebrities yet... I don't really know of anyone that interests me all that much. I'll see what happens.
I have a weird rash. I woke up with it two mornings in a row. It's all spotty, and my hands are really swollen. It's also on my elbows and ankles. Carrie has it, too. I have NO idea where I might have gotten it. I'm going to try to go to student health tomorrow.
My January-February playlist that I enjoy so much is finally done. No more growth potential. My favorite artists of January/February? M.I.A. and Gnarls Barkley, with honorable mentions to MGMT, Vampire Weekend, and TV on the Radio.
Oh, and today is Matt's and my six-month anniversary. WEIRD.
Anyhow, so no being swamped. Matt may go to Williamsburg, so I've planned to go clubbing this weekend with Ada and Carrie! Fun stuff! I don't know where we're going or how we're getting there, though... planning much? Nyssa and I are teaching at swing tomorrow. I always like teaching, because it means 1) that Justin isnt, and 2) that people pay attention to me. Shallow, yes. Oh well.
Anyhow, it's 2:50 in the morning, and I don't feel like going to bed, since I don't even have to wake up until 10:30. I don't want to sleep TOO much. So I posted on here instead.
- Location:Matt's
- Mood:
peaceful - Music:Gnarls Barkley's The Odd Couple
I've been reading the World section of The New York Times every day. I consider this a matter of personal growth.
Is there anything I love more than
???Um, no.
And I want to know M.I.A.'s baby's name!!!
- Location:Starbucks
- Music:TV on the Radio
So this week is pretty busy. I have a big assignment for philosophy due Thursday, a test in Policing Theory on Thursday, and I need to start preparing for my test next week in International Relations. I also have to keep reading for IPE, but I like the book we're working on, so that isn't too terrible. It's just another time commitment. But, most importantly, Matt's birthday is tomorrow. I have yet to wrap anything. So I'll probably end up doing that tomorrow. I'm also taking him to dinner (he doesn't know wheeeere, so if you do, don't tell him!) and dessert. All of this is very exciting, and Valentine's Day is Saturday. I've never really celebrated Valentine's Day before, and even his year we agreed not to do anything crazy or fancy. His birthday is this month and mine is next, so we're opting out of Valentine's gifts. We'll probably just go somewhere simple for dinner. Maybe we'll stay in instead. I'm supposed to make him eggs at some point.
Yesterday the Fuji ate a chunk of my jeans. I typically roll my pants up to bike, even though I was never really sure it was necessary, but a swatch of denim that used to be attached to my leg is now lying on the streets of Richmond, and I'm not going to leave my pants down to bike home from the library anymore. Haha. In other Fuji news, I'm enjoying riding fixed gear. It's an interesting feeling, and it's somewhat empowering. Toe clips are pretty difficult to use, but I've ALMOST got the hang of them. Practice makes perfect kind of thing. I can stop pretty quickly, too -- probably as quickly as I could with my brake on freewheel. However, I also think there's a minor problem with either my chain or my cog, because every once in a while something slips. I'm inclined to believe it's the cog, because it never happened when I rode freewheel. I haven't wrecked yet, and I don't think it's dangerous. If it starts to happen a lot or affect my actual biking, I'll have to switch it back over to freewheel. I can't afford to replace the cog right now. So we'll see.
Which reminds me, I'm looking for a job. Any ideas?
- Location:712
- Music:Gnarls Barkley's The Odd Couple
on LiveJournal!
Oh, how I've missed you!
My classes this semester take a lot of time, so we'll see how much I actually get to write, but my schedule is as follows:
POLI 105 - International Relations
POLI 365 - Honors: International Political Economy
ITAL 201 - Intermediate Italian
CHIN 102 - Elementary Chinese
CRJS 305 - Policing Theory and Practice
PHIL 230 - Honors: Reason, Science, and the Self
OK, let me see: my current musical fascinations include M.I.A., Vampire Weekend, TV on the Radio, Kings of Leon, The Zutons, Cartel, and Amy Winehouse.
My current television fascinations are Battlestar Galactica and 30 Rock.
Anything else? Be back later!
- Mood:creative
First, fall officially began about two days ago. For the first time in my life, I feel like I'm honestly aware that things have changed. The air yesterday was so cool. There's a certain crispness about it. Even today, although the rain brings a certain gloominess, it almost enhances what, to me, is a curiously visceral experience. It simply feels like fall. The wind that came in yesterday brought something with it. It isn't identifiable, but there's an energy about it - it's electric- a palpable tension. I can feel everything around me. Everything is excited, and I'm excited too. I can see the trees swaying through my window, and I can tell that that electricity that's flowing through my veins is distinctly related to the change that everything around me is about to experience. The leaves will all die, change colors, and fall to the streets and sidewalks. The air has already changed. I don't think most people get too excited about the fall, but as I wander around outside, I can't understand how they could ever feel more excited about anything else.
In addition, the glorious season of autumn hosts my favorite day of the year: Halloween. Again, perhaps I'm unlike most people in the passionate connection that I feel with Halloween, but to me, it isn't just a day. It's an event, a week, a month, a season, an idea, a feeling. I fully intend to celebrate Halloween every night for at least a week. I can't wait to carve pumpkins, watch scary movies, dress up, go to parties, wander around the fan, look at decorations, and learn the dance from "Thriller," among other things. I already have three costumes chosen (and more than halfway assembled). I'm definitely dressing up as Han Solo and The Bride (from Kill Bill) for various nights that week, depending on what's going on and where I find to go, and on Halloween itself, a Friday, I'm dressing as Richard Nixon. I'm so excited!
Another new update, I guess - I'm not sure how obvious that has been, but I'm actually kind of dating someone. Finally. I tried last year, a few times, but it didn't work, so I kind of gave up. I certainly stopped looking. But now it's kind of working, and I didn't even look for it. Sometimes things just happen, I guess. I know it isn't actually a big deal or anything, but I guess to me, it represents that I have abilities of which I wasn't even aware. I wonder what else I can do that I don't know about...
I do have a lot of regrets. In the past, last year and before, I've treated some of the people I care about poorly. I'm responsible for most of the unhappiness I go through, and I wish I could take things back. I hope it isn't too late to fix them, so I'm going to keep trying. I hope people are generous enough to meet me halfway.
- Mood:awake
- Music:The Rolling Stones
Aside from all that junk, the most pressing thought I've had on my mind recently is how badly I need to cut the strings tying me to two people I know. It isn't that I don't want to be friends with them anymore, and I would never go so far as to ignore them - if ever they want to hang out or do something, I'll be there. But I'm tired of begging people to be friends with me. It seems that the both of them have moved on to other, more pressing groups of friends. If they wanted to spend time with me, I feel like they would make some sort of effort. Lord knows I've been trying to get them to hang out for who knows how long, and I'm just tired of the excuses. Basically, I miss being friends with them, but I'm not going to beg anymore. I get the picture.
Abbey Road by The Beatles (1969)
-> Even with the atrocious "Octopus's Garden," Abbey Road is a perfect album. It may be somewhat cliche, but Abbey Road presents The Beatles in all of the ways that made them great. As a collection of songs, Abbey Road is nearly unrivaled and as an album, it is seamless. Even "Octopus's Garden," which I have always believed to be a colossally misguided failure, and "Maxwell's Silver Hammer," one of their odder compositions, don't detract from the album. These songs feel, after a time, like a collection of your best friends; every time I listen to them, I feel a distinct personality and warmth from each and every one of them.
Get Behind Me Satan by The White Stripes (2005)
-> Opening with "Blue Orchid," through "The Denial Twist" and "Take, Take, Take," and ending with "I'm Lonely (But I Ain't That Lonely Yet)," Get Behind Me Satan is experimental, inventive, and solid all the way through. Oh yeah, and it's preceded by the equally great Elephant and succeeded by the equally great Icky Thump. It's my favorite of The White Stripes' trio of Grammy Award winning Best Alternative Music Albums, a category they've now dominated with three albums in a row.
Houses of the Holy by Led Zeppelin (1973)
-> As the follow-up to Led Zeppelin's untitled fourth album, Houses of the Holy was initially judged pretty harshly; many of the songs stray from Zeppelin's usual style, but in retrospect Houses has earned a lot more respect from fans and critics alike. It's more experimental in nature, but to me it's a broader representation of what Zeppelin was capable of. Quirky tunes like "D'yer Mak'er" (pronounced Ja-maic-a, by the way) and "The Crunge" squeeze between classic Zeppelin anthems "Over the Hills and Far Away" and "The Ocean." Houses of the Holy probably isn't their absolute best record, but it's definitely my favorite.
A Little South of Sanity by Aerosmith (1998)
-> A Little South of Sanity, a two-disc live album, captures everything that makes Aerosmith one of my favorite bands and one of the greatest rock bands of all time. Steven Tyler, Joe Perry, and the rest of the band don't slack off live, and A Little South of Sanity plays Aerosmith's greatest hits with a twist. Unfortunately, it was recorded before "Pink" existed.
London Calling by The Clash (1979)
-> London Calling is probably the only double LP I can listen to in one sitting with no pause. While other double albums leave me feeling like I'm hearing a lot of the same things over and over again, each song on London Calling has a distinct identity. If you need proof, listen to the title track, followed by "Hateful," followed by "Train in Vain (Stand by Me)." It's definitely one of the most influential albums of all time. The roots of punk rock music since the seventies can all be found in The Clash, and this is their absolute best outing.
Room on Fire by The Strokes (2003)
-> Ok, The Strokes are completely my favorite band of the last decade. Room on Fire, the follow up to their lauded debut, Is This It, contains enough of my favorite Strokes songs to best Is This It for my top ten list, but in all honesty, both albums are phenomenal and deserved to be listened to, frequently, back-to-back, repeatedly, and obsessively. Highlights: "Reptilia," "12:51," "Under Control," "You Talk Way Too Much," etc.
Rumours by Fleetwood Mac (1977)
-> The sophomore outing of the Buckingham-Nicks lineup of Fleetwood Mac was recorded when the band members were both basking in the success of 1975's eponymous Fleetwood Mac and suffering the divorce of bandmates John and Christine McVie, the breakup of bandmates Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks, and the divorce of drummer Mick Fleetwood from his wife. It's an album filled with angst and emotion, anger, love, and betrayal. It runs the gamut of human emotion, and perhaps not surprisingly it's also one of the best selling albums of all time.
Tattoo You by The Rolling Stones (1981)
-> Tattoo You opens with one of the Stones' greatest and most well-known songs ("Start Me Up," which they've played live on nearly every tour since its release) and continues with ten songs that you've never heard unless you've listened to Tattoo You or seen the Stones in concert. That doesn't, however, say anything about the album itself. The songs are all great, and Tattoo You is always considered one of the Stones' best records. While it sometimes veers away from the sound that they established with their most famous quartet of albums (Beggars Banquet through Exile on Main St., chronologically), the Stones established a new sound with Some Girls and Tattoo You that marks another period of greatness and diversity in their long, rich career.
The Velvet Underground & Nico by The Velvet Underground (1967)
-> This is one of the weirdest albums ever, but it's also one of the most influential albums ever. It takes some time to get used to and to appreciate, but I promise you, it's absolutely worth it. You may not realize it when you first hear them, but you're listening to some of the greatest rock songs ever written. "Heroin," in particular, is one of my absolute favorite songs. The Velvet Underground's debut album is raw, uncompromising, and fearless, and the band displays a verve here that perhaps has never been replicated.
War by U2 (1983)
-> I am admittedly and outspokenly not a huge fan of U2. I've never listened to The Joshua Tree all the way through, and I think "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" is just all right. Regardless, War is in many ways different than the typical U2 album. I wasn't quite able to figure out why it sounded different to me, but according to Wikipedia, "the sound is much harsher than that of the band's other albums... A major reason for this is that The Edge uses far less delay and echo than in previous and subsequent works." So I'm going to say that has a lot to do with making War sound different - additionally, it's U2's first political album, fueled by the band's anger at the state of the world at the time. All I need to know about it is that it features "New Year's Day," another of my absolute favorite songs of all time. And I love this album.
- Location:Starbucks/my room
- Mood:accomplished
- Music:These ten albums.
I still have one box that I haven't unpacked. I'm lazy. There isn't anything in it TOO critical, so it isn't something I'm going to beat myself up over. Walking around campus on crutches has been incredibly tiring, but with a little luck they'll at least improve my upper body strength. Yesterday and today I went to Belle Isle. Although I drove there, I still had to walk several blocks to get to and from my car, and I had to walk from the parking lot across the bridge and around the island. It was exhausting, but we went out on the rocks, and against my better judgment I swam out through the rapids. I found a deep spot and a rock that you could jump off of, so I had fun diving and just goofing around. The water felt great, and the whole trip, although it left me incredibly sore, was entirely worth it. I felt alive yesterday for the first time since I fractured my foot, and even though it hasn't been all that long, I forgot how amazing it feels to be active. I miss running, hiking, swimming, climbing, and just wandering around, and I am definitely up for any and every activity as soon as I'm off of these goddam crutches.
I'm glad to be back with everyone at school. I feel like I'm home, and that's a great thing to feel.
WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS????
why must the most powerful man on the planet such a fucking idiot? george bush can rot in hell just for being so goddamn dumb.
Let me tell a short story about my experiences with the double-film saga, Kill Bill. I saw Volume 1 several years ago at my friend Ryan's house. I liked it quite a bit. I found it on sale earlier this summer for a few dollars and bought it. I hadn't watched it until vacation, when I re-watched it (twice, as it turns out) and realized how much I loved it. The day after I got home I drove to Wal-Mart and bought Volume 2, which I just watched this evening. I freaking love Kill Bill. They're both so fantastic. They're among my favorite movies. Kill Bill night when we get back to school, anyone?
Kill Bill also reminded me of my love for Uma Thurman, which in turn inspired me to re-do my top 5 lists. I don't always remember who's been on the older incarnations, but I'm pretty fond of the new ones. The girls list, however, does have 6 names. I couldn't possibly narrow it down any more, and even though the lists aren't numbered, I consider it to host a tie, in which case 6 names must be necessary.
The Girls' List:
Tricia Helfer
Famke Janssen
Lucy Liu
Eva Longoria
Rebecca Romijn
Uma Thurman
The Boys' List:
Jamie Bamber
Matt Damon
Leonardo DiCaprio
Chris Evans
Mark Wahlberg
The Girls' List is pretty definitive - the boys' list is more fluid. It'll probably change sooner than later.
Also, I love Daryl Hannah. While reading about Kill Bill on Wikipedia, I learned that she is an avid environmentalist. Her house runs on solar power, and she's been arrested for environmental protesting. I'm very impressed.
I'm back from my week at Kill Devil Hills, North Carolina. I already miss the beach, and although most of the week wasn't that eventful, it was a pretty good vacation.
However, I decided that my family is far too stressful (not to mention lazy and boring) to vacation with, and I don't think I'm going to include myself on family vacations anymore. I really don't dislike my family, but no one in it is capable of making any sort of decision - I can't begin to tell you how much time my mother and Brian wasted. I got into a habit of walking to the beach on my own every morning and evening. The younger three boys habitually slept until 10:30 or 11, whereas I woke up at 8 every morning. I guess for them, vacation doesn't mean all that much because hey, they return home to no responsibilities of any sort. I, who have worked all summer, didn't want to waste a second of my time, and I was quite frustrated with the amount of time my family spent sitting in the beach house, arguing, trying to decide what they wanted to do, and, worst of all, watching the TV! I love TV - everyone knows this - but I can sit and watch TV at home! I'm not wasting my vacation on it! Nevertheless, I tried to make the most of it, and my solo beach ventures were pretty satisfying. I think next year I will vacation in the company of friends. It may seem harsh, but that's just the way I felt all week.
Perhaps most interestingly for the week, I learned how to skimboard. This in itself isn't a fantastic feat. It's not that hard - there's a few tricks that I somewhat discovered, and that helped me improve to the point where I finally considered myself an able boarder. Throughout the course of the week, however, I probably wiped out about a hundred times, which is fine, considering the best way to end any boarding attempt is by scaling the next beastly wave as it crashes and tosses you about like a rag doll. The sad thing is, my career was cut short on one particular wipeout in which I fractured my foot. I called my mom (I had walked to the beach, which was about a mile from our house, to which I was not able to walk back) and then waited about thirty five minutes sitting in the sand for her to pick me up. I went to the doctor about 48 hours later when I saw no signs of improvement. I have to go to a local orthopedic doctor tomorrow to see if I need anything done to make sure it heals right. I don't know the healing time of a fractured foot, but for the time being I'm on crutches. I can't drive, I can't run, I can't bike, and I move in to the dorm a week from today, and I'm kind of screwed. Oh well. The best part, though, was when the doctor questioned me about my numerous injuries (the huge scar on my knee from that Belle Isle bike wipeout, a large abrasion on the same knee from a previous skimboarding wipeout, and an abrasion on my nose where I dove into the ocean and bumped my face on the sandy bottom). I assured her they were all unrelated. She didn't believe me when I told her I'd never broken a bone before. The look on her face was priceless. What can I say - I wipe out with the best of them.
I have one more week of work (I don't know what I'll be doing, since my movement is limited) before move-in, which I am looking forward to. I can't wait to be back at school.
Things I did this week:
Worked, as usual;
Finished season 3 of Weeds;
Went shopping up in Harrisonburg for a new bathing suit [and made it all the way to the last store on my list without finding anything, and then ended up with two bathing suits, a CD (Bad for Good: The Very Best of Scorpions), and a DVD (Goldeneye)];
Caught up on Battlestar Galactica;
Left my car windows down all night in a thunderstorm (and finally cleaned my car, as I had very little choice in order to sponge the water out);
Illegally drove the motorcycle unlicensed to my friend Diana's house;
Washed and buffed the motorcycle (gotta keep that chrome gleaming);
Finished reading Memoirs of a Geisha;
And packed for the beach!
Look forward to beach stories in my return blog!
Can't wait to go back to RVA!
See you all soon!
Things that amuse me:
The Hamburger Helper FAQ
Q. Why did the product spill over onto the floor of the microwave?
A. The product will spill over if you use more than 1 pound of ground beef, so stick to the amount specified in the package directions. Or you may have added too much liquid. To measure the liquid, place a liquid measuring cup on your counter, pour in the liquid, bend down and check the amount at eye level.
That is solid gold. Seriously.
I only have like four episodes left!!!
Released September 2nd!
Best news ever!
http://omg.yahoo.com/news/ryan-seacrest-i-w
- Too bad he survived.
Best news ever!
http://www.thrfeed.com/2008/07/nbc-wants-b
- Too bad they aren't giving her the actual spinoff, though. Also, her Emmy nom for "Best Supporting Actress" for SNL is like, hilarious just by its existence. I don't even watch SNL.
I love you, Jamie Bamber...
I am getting incredibly tired of the way my parents treat me (and everyone else, to be fair.) None of them (and I'm using them to refer to my mom, dad, Kimberly, and Brian) have any respect for anyone but themselves. I'm tired of listening them bitch about anything that everyone else does.
My mom and Brian got bent out of shape the other day about the fact that the guys who own the woods behind our house had to turn around in our yard to tow an old vehicle out of the woods (they have a right-of-way along the side of our fence, but they couldn't turn around in one lane). First of all, they didn't do any lasting damage to our yard. Second, come on - it's not like they're doing it for fun. Third, no one sees our fucking yard, anyway! We live in the middle of nowhere. It really irritates me. They need to get a grip.
Brian has a dog named Dodger. He's had the dog its whole life, and it literally just sits in our backyard. It has a 6 or 7 foot chain attached to the front of his dog house. Every day either Brian or Little Brian takes the time to carry food back to him. That's all the attention Dodger gets. I feel really terrible about the poor thing. I've had this discussion with my mother several times ("Why doesn't Brian find it a new home? He doesn't pay any attention to him. Why won't he let someone else take care of him?") My mom's response is always "Well, I don't like it either, but it isn't my dog. He's had him his whole life. I know it's not fair, but he isn't my dog, and it's not my responsibility." It pisses me off. I finally snapped the other day and got into a huge argument about it. I said, "No, but it is your freaking house, and Brian is your fiancee, so I think that you have some kind of input! I know he's not your dog, but that doesn't mean he deserves to sit out there!" Blah blah blah. I told her she was absolutely as guilty as Brian was for Dodger's shitty life because she wouldn't even try to do a damn thing about it, and she told me she wasn't going to talk about it any more, because he wasn't her problem. I stormed out and took Dodger for a walk (probably the first he's had since last summer, when I took pity on him a few times). I didn't speak to her for the rest of the night. In my ideal world, I would let the dog free and pray that it runs far enough away that Brian can't find it.
Kimberly (and to a lesser degree my dad) are developing a nasty habit of criticizing me when I can hear everything they're saying. A few months ago her cat barfed on my bed in the middle of the night, so I slept on the couch, and the next morning she has some complex and bitched to my dad about how she doesn't like us sleeping on the couch, and why wasn't I in my bed, and blah blah blah. And the living room and the kitchen are connected, so I could hear every word she was saying and I'm thinking, "Hey there Brainstorm, I'm not sleeping on the couch because it's just so damn fun - maybe think for just a second or two and then consider that I have a good reason to not be in my bed, which is a damn sight more comfortable than your shitty furniture." What I actually did was get up, storm through the kitchen, and walk up to my room. My dad came up and mentioned that I shouldn't sleep on the couch, so I shouted, "Well I won't, as soon as someone cleans the cat puke off of my bed. And until then I'll sleep wherever the hell I want!" I know she heard me, but she never said a word to my face about it. This morning, apparently my dad woke me up (I don't remember it, but he claims he did). About five minutes later I woke up on my own to the sound of both of them bitching about basically how lazy I was, and about how he just needed to tell me that the vehicle was leaving in fifteen minutes and I'd better be in it, and she didn't want to wait around for me to eat and take a shower and blah blah blah. And I'm like first, I can hear every word you're saying. Second, I tell dad every time he makes plans that I need to wake up in time to take a shower. I can't get ready in five minutes, because I practice personal hygiene. Sorry. Third - and this is the kicker - I'm the lazy one. I've blogged about Amber before. She's a fat, fucking lazy, useless, disrespectful piece of white trash who has an illegitimate child she won't take care of and does not have, and never has had, a job. I work over forty hours a week. Sure, I slept through dad's wake up call. Fuck you, Kimberly. I like her less every time I talk to her.
Update: Kimberly's son, Derrick, is a mooch and a bum. Amber, the second child, dropped out of high school, has no job, and has a child she won't take care of. Emily, the third child, has much more promise than the other two lazy fucking slobs, but Kimberly did let her get a tattoo at the ripe age of fourteen. Kimberly just criticized my dad's friends Dana and Diane for letting their son (probably about fourteen or fifteen) say, "Shit on Your Neighbor," the name of the card game we were all playing. What the fuck, Kimberly? Amber takes the cake as the largest, trashiest waste of oxygen in America, and the mother of the year wouldn't let her fourteen year old get a tattoo. Shut up, you filthy hypocrite.
There are so many other instances I could name of them talking about me or disrespecting me, but talking about them just makes me angry. I'm not too high maintenance. I'm nearly twenty years old - definitely an adult. Sure, I'm lazy once in a while, but I work full-time, and on top of that I try to go running and stay active at least a few times a week. I did well in school, I still do well in school, and, to be quite frank, I saved my parents a shitload of money because I worked hard in school and earned a bunch of scholarships. I know that it's a little childish of me to sit here and bitch about all the injustices I experience at the hands of my parents, but still, I feel that that's a pretty minor thing. I feel like I ought to have earned a little respect, a little input. I ask very few things of them beyond what's normal of children to require from their parents. Sure, I'm not independent, but I've lived in both of my houses just as long as my parents have, and I feel like I ought to have some say in the way things are done. It just irritates me that no one respects my principles or my opinions. Everything I believe is a second-place opinion for them to shove aside because they're the parents. I don't think that's right. I think I've earned more than that. I've worked hard, and I know it's selfish and conceited of me to say this, but I feel that, when compared to Derrick and Amber and Brian, it's somewhat evident that I'm a pretty responsible person - not the most responsible person in the world, mind you, but pretty responsible nonetheless. I really, really, really just wish they respected that.
Battlestar Galactica
As soon as we get back to school, I am forcing ALL of you to watch Battlestar Galactica. I need people to talk about it to and experience it with when the last half of the season four airs in spring! You'll end up thanking me.
Battlestar Galactica is like... my favorite show. Maybe. It's hard to top Arrested Development, but BSG at least ties it. You all aren't interested at all in my thoughts about my favorite show, and I don't want to give away details, but I just have to get these things out of my head.
I love Six. I love every incarnation of Six. In fact, I love Cylons. I love Threes. I even love Leoben!
I'm going insane - my whole life is hinging on me finding out who the Final Five are. (OK, a few months ago, I stumbled across a spoiler which has nearly ruined my life, and so I know who one of the Final Five is. But that's it.)
Roslin has become such a hardass! Fuck yeah! I'm seriously afraid of that crazy bitch.
I would chop off my left hand to bang Apollo. I'd chop off the right one to bang Baltar's internal Six. If I banged both of them, my head would explode.
I'm going to cry when this show ends for good. Seriously. It will be like losing a best friend.
^^^ Apollo ^^^
^^^ Jamie Bamber (Apollo) ^^^
^^^ Six ^^^
^^^ Tricia Helfer (Six) ^^^
- Location:living room
- Music:The Who - Who's Next
So I just got home from this year's 4th-of-July festivities. My mom, Brian, Evan, and I rode up to Deale, Maryland, for a family-reunion type of celebration. It was pretty great. My granddad, Mary, and Nan flew up from Florida for the weekend, and distant relatives came from all over Maryland. We represented Virginia. This weekend, I realized how much family means. Despite the fact that we were only with them for about 24 hours, I'm going to miss them all a lot. My granddad and Mary I hadn't seen for 5 years, and I haven't seen most of the Maryland relatives in about eight years (which means I barely have any memory of them). There may have even been a few there that I've never met before, despite the fact that we can't live more than three hours apart from most of them. My mom stresses quite a bit about traveling, which I can understand, but in my mind it isn't acceptable to see your family once every eight years when it only takes two hours to get to them. Hopefully this weekend did something to convince my mom that it's worth making a trip once in a while, or to invite some of them down.
I'm going to give like a very brief family tree here:
First, there's Nan, my great-grandmother. She's 99 years old.
Nan has three kids - Gene (my granddad), Gloria, and Patty.
Gene has two kids - Sherri (my mom) and Duane (who lives in Florida and couldn't make it up to see everyone)
Gloria has two kids - Sandy and Laurie
Patty has two kids - Michael (who couldn't make it) and Brenda
Sandy and her husband Scott have two kids, Victoria and Thomas.
Laurie and her husband, whose name I forget, have two kids, who couldn't make it. They're in their 20s, I believe. I've never met them.
Brenda and her husband, Frank, have two kids, Brian and Ashley, both in their 20s.
So anyhow. Yesterday morning we drove to my Aunt Sandy's house, which is about a two hour drive, and met up with Sandy's crew and Aunt Gloria. We ate lunch there and then followed Sandy another hour to Deale, Maryland, where my Aunt Patty and her husband, Maurice, live. By the way, Patty's house is GORGEOUS. It's so cool. Anyway, so everyone met at Patty's house, where granddad and his wife Mary are staying all weekend. After all the introductions and stuff were made, I started trying to piece together who the hell everyone is. It's confusing, but I figured it out.
Anyhow, first, we talked to Nan. Nan is nothing short of incredible. She's probably like four and a half feet tall. She broke her hip in February, and ever since she doesn't walk too well. She has a walker, but she left it in Florida due to space constraints. She talks a little slowly, and sometimes she has trouble with names, and I'm thinking, for being 99 years old, this woman is holding it together! Despite the fact that my sister couldnt make it, Nan remembered her name and asked about her. Although her sight and hearing aren't great anymore, she always knew who she was talking to, even when she called them the wrong name. She called my mom Ashley several times, inexplicably, but she knew who my mom was, and whenever anyone corrected her, she would retort, "that's what I meant." She's so sharp. I nearly died when she asked Aunt Gloria to bring her a beer. Haha. Granddad gave her half of one. She asked me all kinds of questions about college, and she has this matter-of-fact way of talking. She has this habit of turning to someone nearby, interrupting their conversation, and telling them things that they already knew. She told four or five people, "this boy is in college," and they all said that's great, and then Nan would turn to talk to someone else. It was really funny. I think she sometimes forgets some of the things she's already said, because she repeats herself a lot, but I'm like, still - how many 99 year olds are lucid and capable of walking around a family picnic? She also habitually told anyone nearby that she liked crab, but she hated picking the meat off of them, so she wasn't going to eat any. It was so great to see her. We suspect (and hope) that everyone in the family has the Nan gene, because everyone always comments on how my granddad and my mom look exactly the same every time they see them. Nan's clan ages gracefully. Nan is just a riot.
My granddad and Laurie also spent most of the picnic trying to push each other in the pool. Neither of them succeeded, but it was so funny. Laurie is hilarious. One of my favorite things was when Aunt Gloria turned to me and said, "You know what my favorite word is when I'm at my house alone? Shit. Everything is just 'Oh, shit.'" It was a very funny thing for a 77 year old woman to say, completely out of the blue. I told mom and Sandy later. They thought it was funny, and mom says she remembers Aunt Gloria saying "oh shit" a lot.
And this is going to make me sound awful, but the worst thing in the world is to meet someone sexy for the first time and then find out that you're related to them. Not cool. They don't stop being sexy, because they don't feel like family if you've never known them! So then you just think a member of your family is one of the sexiest people you've ever seen, and it's a killer. I'm going straight to hell. But come on, it's not like I tried anything!
It really sucked saying bye to everyone knowing that we probably wouldn't all be together again any time soon. I like the Flagg side of my family. Granddad was upset that we had to go - he isn't really a great parent to my mom anymore, and I think she resents him quite a bit for it, but everyone makes mistakes. Sometimes he forgets our birthdays, and my mom probably only talks to him 3 or 4 times a year. They see each other even less often, but I still felt awful seeing how sad he was when we left. It kind of makes me angry at my mom. She didn't even want to drive to Maryland - he invited her up, and I think she decided against it, until Sandy e-mailed her. Nobody is perfect, but family is family. I don't think my mom appreciates that. So I never see anyone.
Granddad's wife, Mary, invited me down to Florida any time I want, and I think I'm going to take them up on that offer. Some time when I have a week - spring break or winter break - I think I'll fly down and stay with them for a while. I want to see Uncle Duane and Aunt Marci and my cousins, and granddad and Mary, and Nan, and Aunt Patty and Maurice even stay down there during the winter. I also want to see granddad's dog, Jake, who I love, and drive his Corvette. At least I'm honest. So I'm going to look into seeing how much it'd cost to fly down there. I'll bet holiday prices are jacked up insanely high, and with the cost of oil, it could be pricy. Granddad made a very general comment about paying for any of us to fly down there, but I wouldn't actually want to ask him to. I guess I'll just see how things develop.
Anyway, we stayed at Sandy's last night and drove home this morning. I realized I didn't even see fireworks yesterday. Which is kind of sad, although I know fireworks really dont mean anything. Life goes on.
Happy late 4th of July!
- Location:Home
- Mood: content
- Music:Def Leppard - Vault (Greatest Hits)
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