Have I ever mentioned that I love Snow Patrol?

I was kindly reminded by the BGF that I haven’t written in forever, so here I am, 10 at night on Sunday, finishing up some grading, listening to the new Snow Patrol, thinking about why I haven’t been writing lately.  Part of it is because I haven’t really had much to say.  Okay, that’s not completely true.  I always have a lot to say.

You know when you haven’t done something for a really long time and get really agitated about doing it again?  I was seeing a guy for the past two weeks, after not having been dating in a really long time, and was a complete and total mess beforehand.  We’re talking mess of epic proportions.  I don’t think I ate a full meal in four days.  Turns out I was worked up for nothing, especially considering that the guy was kind of crazy and nowhere worth that kind of freak-out.  Honestly, who in their right mind says “Wanna bet who’s going to say the l-word first?” the second time you’ve been with that person?  So weird….

This is sort of the same problem I’m having with the paper.  I don’t want to even look at it because I’ve built it up into this huge ridiculous crazy awful thing that it isn’t.  It’s a stupid paper.  It’s twenty pages.  It’s about some topic that about ten people in the country will consider reading, and of those ten people five of them will find an excuse not to, and of the remaining five people only three will, and one of those three will be my best friend because she’s nice to me and she won’t even really be interested in the subject matter.  I’m not even interested in the subject matter.  So there.

I didn’t meet my self-imposed deadline of the 13th.  I will blame the boy and work and grading papers.  Now there is no boy, work is a poor excuse, and grading will end in about a month.  That means that I will have this paper done by Christmas.  That’s what I told my dad today, and I’m sticking to it.  I even looked at the calendar and did some figuring in my head, so my brain feels like this is more official than the last deadline.  Hopefully my brain won’t get tripped up by my agitation.

November 13th

This is the day the paper will be written and, for the most part, ready to submit to my committee.  Fifteen days and counting…

Who, me? Crazy? No way.

With the upcoming arrival of my sister to town and living with me I’ve been thinking of all the things that will have to change in my house now that I have a roommate again.  After living with the BGF and her husband for two years I had trained myself not to do many of the things I would otherwise do when alone.  And no, it’s nothing gross–I have family members reading this.

There’s the obvious, like walking around the house naked (unwelcome visual?  Sorry) and peeing with the door open.  Then there are the more unusual things I do when there is absolutely definitely no one else around.  It’s easy when you live alone.  You let your guard down since there are no worries about someone suddenly walking in.  I know, it sounds like I’m talking about something wrong and dirty.  Here’s what I mean:

1.  Falling asleep absolutely anywhere.  BD (Before Dozer) I would sleep in the following places: couch, chair, floor of the living room, floor of the bedroom, floor of the office, bed, leaning against the couch, leaning against the chair, leaning against the bed, and once leaning against the wall.  Oh, and on the floor in the hallway.  Why?  Not sure.  When it was hot out it was because some places were cooler than others.  I started out on the couch after I first moved in, but found it gave me a headache so I moved to the floor.  And these were just for naps, not for a night’s sleep.  Well, except one time, but it had been a long day.  It’s harder to sleep in these places now because Dozer will attack at any moment.

2.  Talking to myself.  For those who know me it should be absolutely no surprise whatsoever that I have conversations.  Alone.  With myself.  I’ve been told this isn’t all that unusual; a lot of highly intelligent people talk to themselves.  Although, so do a lot of highly insane people.  But it does help me think and get ideas out, like when I’m working on my paper (every day, guys!) or plotting my day in the morning.  I also practice-teach.  If I’m introducing a new lesson I’ll talk myself through it and work out some of the kinks.  See, not too crazy…right?

3.  Eating in odd places.  This may not be all that unusual, but I grew up with the law that you ate in one of two places: at the table, or in front of the tv.  I have no table, nor do I have a tv, so I often end up sitting in the pink chair in my living room while I eat dinner.  However, I also eat sitting on the floor, sitting on my bed, perched on the arm of the couch (I was escaping a cricket the cats were trying to hunt), and sitting on top of the coffee table.  It was surprisingly comfortable.

4.  Farting.  Okay, if you prefer to think of me as a dainty, proper girl, stop reading.  I do not like to fart in front of people.  I’ll belch, and everyone who has had close, extended contact with me in one form or another has heard me belch.  But that’s it.  I will not fart.  I will, however, if I’m by myself.  What do I care?  But it’s no deal if someone else is around, even if they’re in a completely different room.  Can’t do it.

5.  Sitting on things that are not designed to be sat on (sat upon?  who cares…).  I kind of do this around other people, but I more often do it when I’m alone.  Like in the bathroom, I’ll sit on the vanity.  In the living room I’ll sit on the coffee table or the back of the couch or chair.  In the kitchen I’ll sit on the counter.  In the office, it’s on the desk.  As with the sleeping thing, I’m not sure why I do this.  There’s just something kind of satisfying about using furniture for a purpose that wasn’t its original intention.  Tank likes it, too:

Tank in the dryer

It may be that these things I do aren’t really that strange.  They just seem odd, and they’re things I won’t do around other people.  I mean, farting obviously isn’t weird, but that’s on the list because I’m weird.

10 things you learn about kittens…

…when you have one for the first time in a really long time.

1. A tail makes a great toy.  Doesn’t matter who it belongs to.

2. Anything can be climbed, including a cement wall.

3. Everything can be eaten.  Dust, rocks, people’s toes…everything.

4. The fridge is a fun place to hide.

5. Bras also make great toys.  Who knew?

6. Apparently there really is another cat in the mirror, and hissing and spitting at it will make it hiss and spit back.

7. You should always eat when the big, fat cat you live with is eating.

8. Poop in the litterbox is there to be flung out of the litterbox.

9. A paper bag is the most fantastic invention ever, especially at three in the morning.

10. Falling asleep on top of the big, fat cat makes up for numbers 1-9.

No More Prison Break for Me

Several years ago I started watching Prison Break, a relatively young series on tv.  The premise behind the show is interesting; if you’ve never seen it, look here.  I was attracted to the show for a couple reasons: the main character, played by Wentworth Miller, is really damn attractive, he has this incredible full-torso tattoo, and the premise seemed interesting.  At the time I wasn’t sure how a show specifically titled Prison Break would manage to last more than a couple seasons.  I mean, you have to assume that they eventually break out of prison, and wouldn’t that require some kind of spin-off?  You can’t tell me they continually get re-arrested and continue to break out.  Seems like a better movie premise than a tv show.

Nevertheless, they do continue the storyline after the characters break out of prison and spend a season on the run from police, feds, and various people who want them dead.  The first two seasons were pretty interesting, the third season was a bit far-fetched, and now the fourth season pure sucks.

I got through the first hour of the two-hour season premiere a couple weeks ago.  There wasn’t really any one thing that turned me off.  It was a combination of the cheesy dialogue and the removal of the main character’s tattoo.  That’s a lot of ink.  So, in tv-land, apparently they can remove a tattoo that large in one night, without any anesthetic.  Right.  I’m sure.  I held on when the characters escaped from all the police and spooky government-types.  I kept watching when they were caught again and sent to a crazy prison in Panama, and I even believed in the possibility that the main guy’s girlfriend, who we thought was beheaded (seriously?) in the third season was actually still alive and returns in the fourth season.  Got it.  But I can’t, for the life of me, believe that a tattoo like that could be completely removed in one night.  That and the scene showing it was the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen.  Talk about dumb.  Yes, tattoo removal hurts, but the mediocre acting would disappoint even Joey Tribbiani.

I didn’t even get to the second hour of the two-hour season premiere.  Sad.  There are some things I’ll still watch, regardless of how dumb the premise is, just because I really like the actor or actors in it.  Take Chronicles of Riddick, for example.  It’s not the most amazing movie ever, but Vin Diesel is a bad-ass, and it has the elements of action movies that I really like.  But Prison Break…not so much.

So, unfortunately, no more of this:

There’s probably a very good reason for getting rid of the tattoo, something to do with the storyline.  I’m just not sure I can sit through another season where half of each episode is spent with me cringing at the tv.  But don’t worry, I have plenty of other options to watch on tv.  Pushing Daisies, anyone?

A Grown-Up Island

Remember that Friends episode where Ross is talking about his list of famous people he would sleep with if he ever met them? My friends and I had something like that in high school, but our scenario was more along the lines of who we would want with us on a desert island if we were ever stranded. When I was 17 the list included Heath Ledger, Johnny Depp, Gavin Rossdale, Brad Pitt, Vince Vaughn, David Duchovny, Ben Affleck, Matt Damon…yeah, it could go on for a while.

When you’re a 17 year-old girl it makes sense that you want attractive, famous men on the island with you. Who cares if they can’t carry a conversation; who wants to talk when you’re on a deserted island with Brad Pitt, really?

Ten years later things have changed. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be against being stuck on a desert island with, say, Christian Bale or Heath Ledger (or both), but I’m not sure the visual appeal of the two actors would be enough to keep me from dying of boredom. I always assume that famous people who I admire are smart and interesting. I don’t know why I make that assumption–there’s never really any evidence that they would be that way. If anything, there’s usually more evidence to the contrary, specifically that they’re probably shallow and arrogant and maybe a little bizarre (Johnny Depp, anyone?).

What I would ideally want them to be like is me and my friends, which leads to the conclusion that I would much rather be stranded on a desert island with my close friends than with Vin Diesel. And that’s saying a lot, knowing my, um…interest in the actor. But in all honesty, my close friends are people I like seeing on a regular basis and wouldn’t be bored out of my mind with. These are a handful of people who make me laugh, who can pick on me without making me (too) angry, and who know when to ignore my nasty comebacks.

I’d like to think of this modified island as a sign that I’m a grown-up, some kind of real adult.  I know that’s not really the case because I’ll never be a real adult. It’s not even remotely as much fun as this weird limbo I’m in right now–half teenager, half adult, half kid. I know those don’t add up to a whole, but I’m making a point. No comments about how it’s a good thing I was an English major and not a Math major.

I’ll let this serve as a sign that I am more grown-up than I was, say, five years ago, when this came out:

Yep.  Much more grown-now.  So grown up that I won’t post the other picture I have.  You know, cause we’re grown-ups now.

New Vin Diesel

Last night we saw Babylon A.D. My primary reason for wanting to see it is because it’s the new Vin Diesel movie, and there hasn’t been one of those in a while. The other reason is that it’s an action/fantasy/sci-fi-esque film which is really the best genre for him to be in. Anyone who saw The Pacifier would agree that, although it does have the action element, it was definitely not his best work. I’m usually against actors getting pigeon-holed into specific roles, but Vin really needs to stick to what he does best which is any role that uses the bad-ass gravelly voice to its full potential.

Sitting through the first 2/3 of the movie was decent. The story itself is interesting and it does what I usually like in these types of movies; throws you into a scenario without explaining the details but lets you figure it out along the way. Too bad you never really figure anything out. The end of the movie is just weird. We left the theater thinking that there was something missing, that maybe something was cut out that was kind of essential to the whole storyline. Apparently, according to ScreenRant, we were right. This article describes how Babylon A.D.’s director is annoyed with Fox for screwing with the film’s script and storyline, ultimately making it a movie that loses it at the end. The international version will supposedly be the full version the director originally wanted. So, um, how do I get that one…?

My hope is that just because this film will probably tank it won’t discourage Vin Diesel from making more movies like it. There really isn’t any other actor that I really enjoy seeing in action films. Jason Statham is good in The Transporter, and is the only reason I have for wanting to see Death Race, but it just isn’t the same as this:

Nice.

10 Things you learn about dogs…

..when you’re taking care of your friend’s animals.

1. Dogs can’t see in the dark. They will run into large objects in the garage when the lights are off.

2. A dog’s snore might sound like a human’s, so don’t wake up in the middle of the night panicking that an intruder snuck in and fell asleep on the couch.

3. Chewed up tennis balls that come out in dog poop still look like chewed up tennis balls. No use trying to hide the fact that you let the dog eat the tennis ball in the first place.

4. Dogs won’t really eat cats, but if you sleep in three hours past their breakfast-time they might take a small bite.

5. They don’t respond to logic, so trying to explain to a dog that he shouldn’t be outside barking at 3 a.m. since people are sleeping is totally ineffective.

6. Raw green tomatoes right off the vine taste good.

7. So do June bugs.

8. So does dog poop.

9. And cat poop.

10. Dogs aren’t reliable when it comes to cuisine.

New Job

Next month I will officially end one job and start another, with the little positions of teaching and tutoring caught in between.  When I was younger, say in high school, I assumed by this point in my life I’d have a career and know exactly what I wanted to be when I grew up.  I’m still not really sure, and can’t say that I have anything that resembles a career.  What I do have is jobs that I enjoy and, for the most part, make me happy.  Maybe that’s what a career is?  And in this process of hopping from one thing to another, I get the feeling that I still haven’t figured out what I want to be when I grow up.  There are a lot of different things that seem kind of fun.  Who knew, when I decided to major in English in college, that I would end up in this new position in September?  I do think that for a lot of people outside looking in, it was almost to be expected.  I mean, really, an English major is kind of hard to market.  The main questions you get are “So, you want to be a writer?” and “So, you want to be a teacher?”  Maybe.  But I also need to make money, and neither one of those positions start you at $50,000 a year.  Not that my new job will, either, but it’s better than what I’ve been doing up to this point.

Tattoos I may get

Lotus. I’d like to get this in a bunch of colors on my shoulder or my back.

Tibetan Buddhist mantra. Either at the top of my spine or on my wrist. It’s “Om Mani Padme Hum.” Throughout Tibet this mantra is found carved onto rocks and on prayer wheels that continually spin. It’s meant to be infinitely rotating so the blessing from the mantra is constantly repeating for the person viewing it.

There are others, but I haven’t found pictures I like yet!