I Think We Should See Other Losers

It's over

Wed, 04 Nov 2009 17:39:43 GMT

Annnnnd we lost in Maine. I don't think I really have the words for how devastated I am right now. There's been a lot of crying. There will be more.

I guess I'll just cuddle up within my second-class citizen status and try to get used to the fact that there will always be people who feel that they're justified in telling others how to live and deciding upon the rights their neighbors are allowed to enjoy. I'd like to see what would happen if the homos were suddenly numerous enough to pass a veto outlawing straight marriage. I don't understand people sometimes.

The experience was amazing, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. I'll just try to nurse the wounds this battle has inflicted and jump back into the fight. I know we're going to win one day, but that doesn't seem good enough. Right now, I'm just really tired and having issues with seeing the silver lining.

I'll make a post about all the amazing and hilarious things that I took away from this whole ordeal later. I'm gonna go shower and nap.

Shame on Maine.

MotherfuckingMaine

Sat, 24 Oct 2009 03:02:53 GMT

I'm exhausted but jubilant. I love it here. I feel as though I am doing good work. Highlights, because I want to go to bed as I must be at the office at 9 am tomorrow:

- I walk five hours a day, minimum, to go speak with supporters of gay marriage in Maine, urging them to vote early since the polls are 48 to 48% right now. It's a turn out game at this point. All the gays must vote.

- They made me a Field Manager on my second day on the job. This looks infinitely sexier than "Paid Canvasser" on a resume and I get to tell people what to do.

- The women I am staying with are WONDERFUL. My first day on the job, Faith was waiting up for me in the kitchen afterward with hot cocoa, hugs, and chats. Janet showed up in the middle of the chat, had a glass of scotch, and swore like a sailor about all the crazy fuckers who are voting yes on question 1. I wish they were my lesbian moms. They're amazing, and I can already tell that I'm going to cry when I leave them.

- My coworkers are all hilarious and wonderful. I love going in to work in the mornings.

- I got my first paycheck today. Must go get groceries.

I love life. I'm almost sad I'll only be here for a couple weeks. But then California beckons. Fabulous.

My life is suddenly made of sunshine and rainbows. Wtf.

Fri, 16 Oct 2009 03:47:40 GMT

So, for the past few months I've been miserable, because I could not find a job in Midland, I had taken the LSAT, and I had NOTHING TO DO. Plus, I was looking for a way to get out to LA in November, which was, as only makes sense because of the job situation, looking less and less likely as the days went by.

Yesterday, all of that changed.

My AWESOME friend Bobby referred me to the No On 1 Campaign, a grassroots campaign to fight for marriage equality in Maine. Some background for those of you who may not be aware: On May 6th, Governor Baldacci signed an act that makes same-sex marriage legal in Maine. However, due to a petition raising signatures against this law, a veto has been placed on the ballot for November 3rd, a veto that would overturn this law and keep it from ever going into effect. More info if you're curious. As of right now, the polls are saying it's about 52% NO (keeping gay marriage legal) 43% YES (outlawing gay marriage) and 5% undecided. It's a pretty close race.

Anyway, No On 1 was looking to hire some full-time paid canvassers. I interviewed over the phone for the job on Wednesday, and I got the job! I'm flying to Maine on Saturday, to get paid to walk around and talk to voters about the issue and urge people to vote for the election. The fact that this is something I would happily volunteer my time for, but I get paid to do it... there are really no words.

As a result of this job, I will suddenly have enough money to go to California. And it just so happens that my friend Christine is heading to San Francisco on November 8th and has invited me to share a hotel room with her while she's there for a big fabulous gay conference. Which allows a whole lot of other dominoes to slot into alignment. It looks like this is what my life is gonna be like now:

October 17th: Three days after landing the job, I fly to Portland to start campaigning.

November 5th: Fly back to Michigan.

November 8th: Fly out to San Francisco and spend several days partying with Christine and one of my old college professors, who I love dearly and who I hope remembers me.

November 11th: Pat Fabulous drives to San Francisco from Santa Cruz on his day off to be gay and amazing with me, specifically having a picturesque movie scene where we drive past the ocean at sunset while blaring Lady Gaga out of the windows of his Ford Explorer. We then drive back to Santa Cruz to Pat's AMAZING CO-OP HOUSE that has a recording studio shaped like a castle in the backyard, an old winibego which someone lives in, Pat's room which is a converted/built into the house old caboose, and a house mother named Bunny. There's also a turtle pond in the backyard with 12 turtles. I'm not kidding. This place is totally real. It's not a fairy tale.

November 13/14th: Pat Fabulous and I drive down to Los Angeles to spend the weekend with Jessica DuVerneay of the Many Corsets. A glittery, drunken weekend ensues.

November 15th: I bid a fond farewell to Pat Fabulous as he drives back to Santa Cruz.

????? I make my triumphant return to Michigan.

The ????? is due to the fact that I MAY get a job in California while I'm there, and I MAY find an apartment, if I am lucky and have enough money left over. All this stuff is ballpark right now. I'm still working out the details. I need to make a budget. But that's what I know so far!

I'M TOTALLY FREAKING OUT WITH GLEE! XDDDDDDDDDD

My Grandparents Are Insane.

Thu, 15 Oct 2009 19:47:45 GMT

This past weekend was my niece's first birthday. My brother, sister in law, niece and older sister all came up from Chicago and Milwaukee (respectively) and we had a shindig. With lots of babies. Now, you all know how I feel about babies. Luckily, Madeleine (my niece) is exempt from the utter terror and disgust that overtakes me when dealing with children under the age of four. Unluckily, as if the other babies who I AM terrified of weren't enough, my grandparents on my mothers side were drawn, as they necessarily are, to the gathering of babies like hysterical teenage girls are drawn to a Jonas Brothers concert. For people as crazily conservative and Catholic as my grandparents, babies are what it's all about- innocence, the miracle of life, the embodiment of God's plan for all of us, the beauty that survives in spite of the terrible fact that abortion is legal, fresh little minds to brainwash through Catechism classes and mass every Sunday. Ah, the fresh smell of babies in the morning...

Additionally, I was on Grandma-distracting duty, as Jenny was at the party, and I had to keep the crazy away from her or she may have had an episode, albeit with good reason. This is because Grandma and Grandpa stole Jenny's Obama signs out of the front yard, treating her as if she was a two year old playing with an inappropriate and dangerous toy (think a bottle of drain-cleaner) instead of the 25 year old woman that she is, then wrote letters to her comparing her to Hitler when she requested that they give her signs back or reimburse her for them... needless to say, Jenny and the grandparents haven't spoken since then. So it was up to me to waylay the grandparents before they had a chance to speak with Jenny, or something bad was gonna happen.

When I first began talking to grandma, I knew we were in for a bad run.

"So what are you doing with yourself, Maria? I heard you took the LSAT?"

"Yeah, I get my results back next Saturday."

"Well, I hope you do well. You know we need more pro-life lawyers."

"Ah... yeah, well, that's not really gonna be what I want to go into. I'm looking to do civil rights law."

"Well, what civil right is more important than the right to life? You know, those liberal law makers are still using Roe v. Wade to justify genocide, and the people left with a conscience are few and far between. Our country has really gone downhill."

"Yeah... sure."

She went on in that area of ranting, until we started talking about school. She asked me what my minor had been in. I told her Japanese and Chinese literature. BIIIIIIG mistake.

"Well, you know, that one child policy in China, it's just terrible. Women are being dragged to have forced abortions."

"Well, yeah, in the 80s that was happening. Currently, though, it's not strictly enforced, especially in rural areas. And the only thing that happens if you have more than one child is you get slapped with a fine. Plus, a 2008 study by the Pew Research Center estimated 75% of the population supports the policy."

"Those are all just lies being told to you by the liberal media."

"Umm... pretty sure I got them out of text-books. And friends in my classes who were Chinese exchange students."

"Maria, you can't believe them. They've been brain washed by the communist government. That's what all communist and socialist governments do, they rule their people with an iron fist."

"Not in France. Really, the most controlling governments are more fascist governments that are communist in name only. The actual theory of communism and socialism is quite different."

"No, no, no. Where are you hearing these things? It's just sad. You know, Augestine Cheffler, your grandpa's ancestor, he was a saint you know. He went to Vietnam and China, and spread the religion, by teaching them their ABCs and English- it just caught on like wildfire, but then there were those war lords who didn't want anything to do with it, and they're the one's who eventually beheaded him. Of course, the western ideals Cheffler brought them helped thousands and they still are trying to break through today."

"Because of course, western ideology has a right to go in and wipe out indigenous language and culture, all because we know how to do it BETTER, even though China had written language and paper 2000 years earlier than Europeans, who were still crawling around in the mud. And you know, they should be GRATEFUL that we destroyed their culture and brought diseases and overbearing arrogance, imperialism, and a condescending disrespect for their silly, savage ways."

"Well, exactly. I have some literature on the subject, articles you know, written by some wonderfully devout priests. You should come over and I'll lend them to you."

*headdesk*

This woman is insane. Any conversation you try to have, she somehow turns it back to abortion and religion. She's racist, ignorant, selfish, and compulsive. It makes me want to disassociate myself with that side of the family.

If I ever get that insane in my old age, I urge people to take me out behind the barn and put me out of my misery. I don't get how anyone can live like that. Graaaah.

EDIT: When I talk to my grandparents, I feel like comedian Maria Bamford in this soundbite.

"

So about internet trolls...

Thu, 08 Oct 2009 03:58:01 GMT

Two posts in one day! This is unprecedented.

So I made a post on craigslist, because I am lonely and I want friends in Midland and I haven't been laid in 8 months (Not complaining, per se. Just sayin'. DON'T JUDGE ME!!! XD). In my post I made ONE passing mention of how "gun-toting republicans need not apply." Because I hate them. *shrugs* As do a lot of people.

I started clapping and giggling when I got THIS response to my ad in my inbox:

I don't want to ever meet you, I just wanted to make a comment about your post. It is kind of funny how near the end you say that you don't want "gun-toting republicans" to write to you unless they respect other people's beliefs and are moderately intelligent, when you obviously are the opposite of both. If you really think about it in depth, liberals are actually the ones in this country that don't respect other people's beliefs. Republicans don't really care who posts what messages anywhere or what kind of religious symbolism gets put up, as long as it is legal, and doesn't actually harm anyone. However, on the other side, Democrats don't mind, unless it is Christian, then it needs to be taken down because it could be offensive, even though other religions never claim it to be. Just for clarification, I am an atheist so it isn't a religious problem for me, it is a problem with trampling on other people's rights. I bet that you probably don't even know the actual differences between Democrats and Republicans besides the few main stream issues that are on the news everyday, and you probably only side with the Democrats because you only watch CNN or get your news from The Daily Show. But, if more people did actual research, even if they came to the same liberal conclusions, then I would have much more respect for Democrats than I do now.

Disclaimer: I know what you are probably thinking right now, and no, I don't watch just Fox News, I don't like how they show mainly one side, but pretty much all the other stations only show one side as well. And, no, I don't own a single gun, I am actually in favor of stricter gun control, and getting guns off the streets. And, yes, I believe that I am fairly intelligent, I am currently in medical school. But I am definitely against any form of public option of medicine because it will undermine the current health care system, causing a mass influx of patients into hospitals and doctor's offices causing patients with real problems to not get adequate care, which will in turn push many doctors away from practicing in the US just making the problem worse.

What. The. Fuck.

Of course, I was bored. So I wrote a response. Obviously, there was no taking this guy seriously, so I wrote this:

YOU HAVE INSPIRED ME, GOOD SIR, TO WRITE A STORY. I DO HOPE YOU ENJOY IT:

"Children, gather round," Old Reginald Haberdasher said, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I have a tale to tell you, a tale of a man who tried to change the world. His name was Scott."

"Is this going to be a long story?" little Susie asked, mouth quirked in disapproval, for well she knew of Old Reginald's long-winded stories.

"Hush, child," Old Reginald said. "Let me begin. This man, Scott, also known fondly as michigan_guy@live.com, spent his days worrying. He worried about the state of the world. He knew everyone in the world was stupider than him. He felt it was his duty to tell everyone the correct way to form their views, which involved the foisting of his own upon them, because he was so very intelligent. You see, he went to medical school."

Old Reginald Haberdasher paused dramatically as the children "oo'ed" and "ahhh'ed" in wonderment.

"Since it is very difficult to get into medical school, as we all know-"

"My cousin Bobby got into med school, and he was a 3.0 biology major-" Susie grumbled. She silenced herself at a glare from Old Reginald.

"Scott felt it was his duty to awake all the fools from their dogmatic slumber. Since Scott was a man of great vision, he understood that the world obviously works in absolutes and opposites. If someone didn't like heights, he knew they must love the depths of the ocean. If someone didn't like the color black, he knew they must love the color white. If someone didn't like Republicans, he knew they must be a liberal Democrat-

"What if they weren't liberal or conservative, but moderate? Aren't there other political parties than that? What if someone were a Libertarian, or a member of the Green Party-" Susie began.

"Hush, child," Old Reginald said. "Anyway, as Scott obviously had an intimate understanding of how the world worked, he took it upon himself to force this knowledge upon others. Now, he did this in a very intelligent, somewhat unconventional way. He trolled internet postings looking for casual sex, and with his great wisdom he searched for any passing mention of politics. He would then refute this passing mention after building up an idea of what he assumed the passing mention was arguing for- he created a straw man, if you will- and then valiantly destroyed the straw man argument with great vigor and bravery. Often, he would use gross generalizations about the person he was attacking (who he knew nothing of besides what he had gleaned from the posting, dear children) and make assumptions about certain movements and ideals with no evidence to support himself, though he professed that fact-checking was the only way one could be sure of something.

No one would believe him when he spoke of his own intelligence, even though we know, children, that the most intelligent people have to point out their own intelligence to others instead of proving it by their actions. And we all know that intelligent people spend their time trolling on craigslist, though many are too weak or foolish to do so. Though it was an obviously brilliant effort on his part, to this day, no one is completely sure why he felt so called to argue with craigslist posts. Perhaps it has something to do with the time he was seen screaming emotionally into the air one chilly autumn night, 'I AM SIGNIFICANT! 'I WILL CHANGE THE WORLD ONE CRAIGSLIST POST AT A TIME!' And then a shining tear rolled down his cheek, for he was very lonely in his intelligence."

The children began to sniffle. Susie rolled her eyes.

"He did not care that the vast majority of craigslist posters were apathetic about what he said," Old Reginald continued. "He did not care that many who read his responses got a good chuckle out of it before mocking at great length what they mistakenly saw as his idiocy. He was a man of great vision. He was a man of great strength. He was a man of great intelligence. He was a man with apparently, an oddly large amount of time on his hands, considering he was also going to medical school. But his existential and political angst would not be silenced."

"What happened to him?" little Tommy asked. Old Reginald regarded the young boy solemnly.

"One day, during a practice run at medical school, a tragedy occurred. Our valiant warrior for truth, through no fault of his own, accidentally aborted himself instead of the fetus. Let his tale live on in your hearts, children. Let his tale live on forever."

Silence gripped the room. Susie turned to little Tommy.

"Want to go get ice cream?" she asked.

There was a mad, scrambling rush for the door, and Old Reginald was left to smile after them, alone.

THE END

:D

I'll let you guys know if he replies.

Massive Immaturity. I should totally know better than to do this.

Wed, 07 Oct 2009 22:36:13 GMT

Note to self: No more immature bullshit.

When I'm bored and feeling insecure, I have a tendency to do stupid, self-indulgent things. I'm not used to feeling like this. I have nothing to complain about. But I've been complaining in my head, anyway.

Just now, I spent 30 minutes looking of photos of myself on facebook, trying to decide if I'm fat or not. (wtf.) As a result, I nearly forgot that I was supposed to put the soup on for my dad so he has something to eat when he gets home from doing real life work.

I'm too old for this crap. It's stupid, and it makes me think I'm crazy. Which I probably am.

I dunno if it's because I'm stuck in Midland, and I hate it. I dunno if it's because I have a date tomorrow (first one in a few months), and I'm freaking out irrationally. No excuse is good enough for me to indulge in this crap, though. I realized what I was doing and became promptly disgusted with myself.

Ugh. I need to focus on other things. \

Anyone got any thoughts on how I could correct this pattern of living/thinking?

That is all.

Everything You Never Wanted to Know About Fundamentalist Christian Dogma

Wed, 30 Sep 2009 04:40:58 GMT

I know this is way overdue, but I'm finally getting around to it.

Gather around children, and I will tell you the tale of a song that was sung, a quest that was undertaken, and an evil that was defeated.

I am speaking, of course, about the Spring Break of the past year as experienced by Patrick, Bobby, Charlie, Kolby, and Maria, a group of explorers known by many names, but for the sake of this narrative, a group of explorers known (at least to themselves) as the Spice Force Five. These heroes have been ordained as keepers and maintainers of the Fabulous, the Factual, the Jocular, the Callypigian, and the Rational (respectively).

You see, children, while many college students spend their Spring Break basking in the sun, drinking heavily, and making mistakes of the Joe Francis variety, the Spice Force Five tend to seek more... creative... forms of entertainment.

It all began when Kolby hatched a plan.

"So, I looked up where that Creationism Museum is from that Bill Maher movie," he said to us, head jauntily cocked to the side. "It's in Kentucky. It looks hilarious. We should road trip it down. It would be a four state tour."

Patrick gasped.

"It'll be my last fabulous trip before I go away to help the destitute children of our Fair Nation!" he said in a rather dramatic tone.

Bobby looked determined.

"Let's figure out logistics. We'll make it happen."

Charlie nodded solemnly.

As for me, I promptly forgot about the entire conversation until Patrick brought it up in a Serious Tone a couple weeks later. By then, all I had to do was provide a couple hundred dollars to pay for gas, food, and my share of a hotel room.

The days went by quickly, and almost before I had had the time to fully begin to appreciate the epic-ness of the journey that we were about to embark upon, Patrick was reclining regally on my futon. We were both trying to sleep (and failing, much as toddlers on the night before Christmas) as we were slotted to wake up at five a.m. the next day, to be on the road by six.

We were gonna go show that Jesus guy what's what.

Before we go any farther in the tale, allow me to make introductions:

Patrick AKA Baby Spice AKA Keeper of the Fabulous, Driver of the Ford Explorer

Bobby AKA Scary Spice AKA Sacred Fact-Checker, The One to Make Sure We Don't Do Anything Warranting an Arrest

Charlie Chapless AKA Sporty Spice AKA Provider of Joviality, Ready and Willing to Create a Diversion

Kolby AKA Posh Spice AKA Protector of the Fierce, Willing to Shake the Booty of Irreverence

Maria (Me) AKA Ginger Spice AKA Upholder of the Logical, Ready to Scoff Upon Command

Anyway, as I was saying, Patrick and I were trying to sleep, but in actuality were waiting breathlessly for the time that we would be able to sally forth. By 5:30 am I had showered, dressed, gotten McDonald's breakfast (which I maintain is the only reason for anyone to be awake before 10) and was ready to go.

Patrick and I walked outside of my apartment complex, where we held watch for the arrival of the rest of the convoy.

We were pleased to discover that Kolby had stayed up late the night before making Union Jacks and other Signs to Signify the passage of our Historical Venture. Where the Spice Force Five goes, so goes the Queen.

After taking several photos of the first sunrise I have seen in years...

...and participating in an obligatory sing-along of the Circle of Life from the Lion King, as is expected when one views a sunrise, I promptly passed out in the front passenger seat for the next few hours.

I woke up just in time to see this:

"JESUS!" said the barn. "You are on the right path. Proceed gayly forward!"

I passed out again, and when I woke up the second time, we were at the Waffle House for a quick pit stop.

The Waffle House is like IHOP but trashier. If that's even possible. Patrick told me he planned on getting indigestion like it was his job. Which was made easier by the fact that the waitress gave us each a free waffle when our food took a little longer than five minutes.

We are not the type of people to turn down free food. Even (especially) if it comes from fine establishments like The Waffle House. The coffee was terrible, but they had free refills. I probably had at least ten cups by myself. I needed the caffeine. Don't judge me.

After another half hour of driving, we got off the highway. There were signs pointing us in the direction of the Creation Museum. This excited us. I feel that I cannot truly explain to you the level of excitement we exhibited, or just what it is like to be in a car full of five college students who are screaming and giggling like they just won the lottery or someone offered to pay off their student loans. So I'll just show you:

And of course, our first glimpse of the gates of the museum. Pat's chin got in the shot a little. I think it adds to the overall feeling of excitement, however:

The first thing that we notice upon pulling in is that EVERYTHING is shaped like dinosaurs.

Dinosaur shaped light:

Dinosaur shaped skeleton:

Dinosaur shaped statue:

We were very confused at the divergent styles and media that were used to create all of these dinosaurs. We wondered if perhaps the creators of the museum had gone to a dinosaur flea-market and bought up all the dinosaur crap they could find. Needless to say, it may have served them better had they picked a specific dinosaur-theme instead of just "anything that is loosely related to dinosaurs in any manner, please let us have ten of it."

Before we walked into the museum, Charlie gave us all a surprise gift so that we might blend in better- Cute little golden cross pins that he got for a buck each:

Patrick: You can't even tell I'm a sodomite anymore, can you?
Me: Of course not, Patrick. The cross covers it riiiiiiight up.

For the record, I was wearing a rainbow unicorn Spectrum Center t-shirt, in addition to the cross.

Yup, we totally passed. They didn't suspect a thing.

We went into the museum and I finally got my TICKET:

Oh, I was prepared to believe, alright. Soooo prepared.

After getting our tickets checked, it was just a quick hop skip and a jump to the Room o' Fail, AKA, Yes, Actually, Humans and Dinosaurs Were Totes BFF:

These things MOVED. Creepily.

OM NOM NOM NOM NOM!

Let me just point out, that not only is the cave girl chilling with a velociraptor, she's feeding a carrot to a prehistoric squirrel:

*HEADDESK*

We quickly discovered that right next to the Room o' Fail there was a movie theater where they have presentations. We knew there was going to be a presentation on Darwin later in the day because it was just around the anniversary of his death, but joy of joys- we also discovered that we were just in time for the Men in White show. Here's a synopsis from the Creation Museum website:

Wendy has questions and the Men in White have answers. Come in and experience the sights, sounds, and thrills of the Bible and science in our unforgettable Special Effects Theater. Prepare to believe. You won’t want to miss this amazing show, included with general admission.

Oh, it was unforgettable, alright. I especially liked how the chairs spit water at your face during the Flood scene, and how they rumbled and vibrated with God's anger. I couldn't take pictures during this bit, but Wendy (a really creepy animatronic doll that whiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrr looked up at the ceiling and whiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrr looked out at the audience) questions whether or not God is real. The Men in White (angel guys dressed in Mario-brother-esque overalls) show up and tell her that of COURSE God exists, Wendy! And the earth is only 6000 years old, you silly goose!

Then they cut to a montage of the source of all of Wendy's questioning and anxiety, which is, of course, the public school system. Images fly at the audience in threatening gray-scale, and ugly, frumpy looking teachers signified by their name-tags as Professor E. Plumsure and Miss S. Certainty tell Wendy that evolution is a proven FACT and that if she doesn't believe in it, then she is violating the United States Constitution and the separation of church and state!

I'm not even joking.

Now, I don't know what schools these creation-nuts are sending their kids to, but at MY school, I remember the teacher was very clear in saying that evolution was only a THEORY, and that you can believe whatever you want to believe, but this is science class so we're going to learn about how evolution and genetics are applicable to the lab project we'll be doing on Thursday, and no, Jenny, you cannot have the restroom pass until Billy gets back, take a seat, if you pay attention and work quickly then we'll be able to watch Bill Nye on Friday.

The Men in White enter a classroom where they proceed to question an increasingly flustered science professor with such damning questions as:

"Well, if carbon dating is right, then what about the Mount St. Helens eruption? I mean, we KNOW how old those rocks are because we know when the explosion happened, but carbon dating says that they're millions of years old!"

Um... hey angel guy- Maybe because the eruption didn't actually CREATE the rocks, it UNEARTHED them.

But the science professor in the movie can't come up with this blatantly obvious answer, and falls under the pressure of God's superior wisdom and logic.

We left the presentation, our heads swimming with bullshit justifications to protect a simplistic world-view, no closer to understanding just what the morons who made this museum thought they were successful in disproving. Fabulous.

After quickly referencing our maps/list of exhibits, we found that the Creation Museum also sports a botanical gardens and petting *cough*CHILD TRAP*cough* zoo. Since it was freezing out and we doubted there would be any kids around, we made our way over.

We were prompted by the long bridge leading up to the gardens to stop and have a runway show, because what else are long picturesque bridges over water for?

Photo-op on the boulders in front of the babbling brook:

The dinosaur theme even extended to the topiary:

CREATION MUSEUM SEZ: GOLDEN CALF=HELLZ NO! GOLDEN DEER=M'well... Okay.

And then we were at the petting zoo. It was pretty decent, as far as petting zoos go.

Donkey: I am adorable and lure your children into dogmatic Christian zealotry! LOVE ME!

Zebra/Donkey: I am a mistake of conception and instill the fear of interracial mixing among your congregations!

We hit a bit of a snag when Kolby nearly refused to leave because he fell in love with this camel:

It was a star-crossed love that was doomed before it had even begun.
It was a love that society would ridicule.
It was a love that would break all the rules.
It was a love that would last forever.
♥ Kolby/Camel ♥

But after a quick stop to feed some insanely hungry goats...:

And saying "yo" to a disgruntled looking dove...:

Dove: What the fuck are you looking at?!?

...we were ready to head back into the warm museum, because, as stated earlier, it was effing freezing out.

On the way back we noticed (as if there wasn't enough ridiculous already) that apparently the gazebo at the Creation Museum has it's own website and telephone number:
JESUS LOVES CAPITALISM. SHORE, Y'CAN ADVERTISE YER GAZEBO SETTIN' UP COMPANY NEAR TH' FINE GAZEBO Y'SET UP FER US, JIMBO!

When we got back into the museum, I spied some SECURITY GUARDS:

I can only assume that they were there to protect us from the Mennonites, the old people, and the pissy teenagers dragged there by their church youth group.

Needless to say, they were the best and the brightest. In top physical and mental form.

Guard: Ma'am, we're going to need you to delete the photo of security.
Me: OH! Sorry. Beep boop boop beep! All deleted.
Guard: Thank you.

We got in line and walked through this room that was made to be like a long winding cave (to add ambiance? Authenticity?) and came out on the other side to find a huge fakking life-sized doll display:

Complete with a tent in the corner:

And a fake coal mine full of real coal:

But a surprising LACK of any sort of placard or signboard with an explanation as to what was the whole point of the display.

Instead, we got THESE little gems of information in the same room:

They never actually answered any of those questions they put at the bottom of the signs, and these were the only two signs with any sort of writing on them in the whole room.

I still giggle every time I read those clarifying questions that were there in case you didn't understand the FIRST question. For example, was it a bird? XD

I wish I could tell you that the scholarly rigor of the displays got better, that it wasn't all just rhetorical questions with little to no actual information or evidence provided and that this was just an introduction to get you in the swing of the museum, or something. Sadly, it only got worse.

The most popular rule of the Creation Museum seems to be, "When in doubt, throw a dinosaur in."

Builders: Crap! We've got an empty corner in room 33B! What do we do?
Creation Museum Designer: AHHH!... Erm... ummm... Stick another dinosaur in there!
Builders: GREAT IDEA!

Quite honestly, dinosaurs had little, if anything, to do with many of the displays there were, as far as I could tell. But there was literally a dinosaur in EVERY. SINGLE. ROOM. Not that I'm complaining. I mean, whoever knows me at all knows that I love dinosaurs, almost to a fault. If this place was anything but a MUSEUM, I would say whoever created it was a genius. But the fact that the guys who made it take this place seriously, instead of seeing it for the Disneyland tourist trap knock off that it is, that just makes me sad.

And then, ooooooh, THEN, the displays started quoting Descartes. A lot.
This is where the Philosophy major in me started to FREAK THE FUCK OUT at all the fail. I may have nearly had a seizure at one point.

Man's reasoning: Deductive.
God's reasoning: Circular.

GOOD THING YOU POINTED THAT OUT FOR US, CREATION MUSEUM. OTHERWISE, I WOULD HAVE MISSED THE FAIL.

Not that I like Descartes at all (the Meditations on First Philosophy are full of crap. David Hume totally pwns him. Trust me on this one) but I found myself kind of getting offended on his behalf. It's annoying that they would grossly oversimplify all of his work into "cogito ergo sum," which is really just the springing board for the rest of the stuff he wrote. And honestly, did they totally MISS the part where Descartes used his revisionist metaphysics in an attempt to PROVE the existence of God? *flails*

This was the size of an entire wall.

Gratuitously large silhouette photo.

Three lines of writing at the bottom.

Fail.

CAGE MATCH!!!!

Dumbed-down evolutionary theory VS. taken-out-of-context Bible quotes. WHO WILL REIGN SUPREME???

The Giant Wall of Making You Feel Bad with Dramatic Photos.

I wish this had been the only one of them. There were at LEAST five more. Not to mention the ROOM OF RESTLESSNESS AKA Get Ready to Burn in Hell You Sinners, which we'll get to later.

It got cut out of the photo, but they also had a picture of Oranges, Apples, A Puppy, and Penicillin.

There's a connection between all these pictures. Really. I just wish I was smart enough to figure it out.

I got so used to asking, "What the hell is the POINT of this display? What is the premise this piece is supposed to embody that will build to their conclusion?" that I eventually stopped asking it. It's like they gave a class of fourth graders two billion dollars and said, "Make a museum about Jesus." And of course, since they're fourth graders, they said, "We're gonna make the world's LARGEST SHOE BOX DIORAMA with little to no research behind it!"

If the goal was to attempt to distract people from the lack of actual content by inserting tons of life-sized moving dolls, then the museum was a success.

There are no words.

I think this sums up the whole museum pretty nicely.

"But... but human reason is so WIGGLY! GRAAAAHHH! HOW WILL I EVER UNDERSTAND ITTTTT???!??!?!"

Wiggly=bad. Straight=good. Gay=don't even go there.

Perhaps the whole point of this is to say that human reason is too complicated or complex, whereas the Bible is pretty straightforward and simplistic. So you should choose the BIBLE as the truth, because obviously it is more representative to the realistic state of the world. I imagine the creator of this museum is one of those people who says, "Math is HAAARD!" in a really whiny tone.

HEY, PEOPLE! JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE TOO DUMB TO UNDERSTAND IT DOESN'T MEAN THAT IT IS INHERENTLY FALSE!

Holy crap. The middle prediction is so obviously referring to Alexander the Great.

Like when I had a dream that my friend threw sand in my face- that was me predicting the Iraq war. Fer rlz.

This whole wall was where they showed how the Bible is obviously the divine word of God. It must come straight from the hosanna's mouth because of all the predictions it made that came true, and there's no other explanation for how it could do that.

Like, it's not possible that maybe Bible predictions were written down hundreds of years after they were supposedly made, or you're reading a specific situation into a very vaguely symbolic passage.

As we moved throughout the museum, we started getting sidelong glances and veiled glares. It may have had to do something with the fact that Kolby kept giggling maniacally and I kept pausing to smack my head against the wall repeatedly. I dunno.

Up until this point, it'd all been a barrel of fun, but then we get to the ROOM OF RESTLESSNESS AKA Get Ready to Burn in Hell You Sinners!!!

You should have heard the big booming voice talking over the loud speakers and seen the flashing lights. I felt like I was being reeducated at an internment camp. The whole room was geared towards scaring the pants off of people, showing them what would happen if they didn't strive to uphold the scripture in their daily lives and work to make everyone else believe the same thing they do. I have one thing to say to you, Creation Museum: Argumentum ad metum.

Big booming voice over loud speakers: WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU ABANDON SCRIPTURE IN THE CULTURE? DEATH, DISMEMBERMENT, YOUR CHILDREN DYING IN THE STREETS, PAIN, HELL FIRE. YOU WILL SPEND AN ETERNITY WRITHING IN THE AGONY OF-
Pat: OOO! Take a photo of me looking fierce!
Big booming voice: ... Dammit.

PROTECT YOUR BUTTHOLES, YOUR BAD HAIR, AND YOUR PLAID!!! THEY'LL COME FOR YOU!

Needless to say, we had a ton of fun with all the anti-gay propaganda. We rubbed our AIDS-riddled hands allllllll over their displays. I hope they spent a fortune disinfecting everything after we left.

TODAY MAN DECIDES T~~RUTH~~ WHATEVER

Patrick's face perfectly expresses the apathy that will result in a slippery sloping slide down into meaninglessness and despair. We should all just kill ourselves now.

This is the wrecking ball that will bring down the foundation of the church. It's strangely oblong.

There were no explanatory placards in the ROOM OF RESTLESSNESS. There wasn't any writing at all but for the ripped out and decoupaged magazine articles on the wall. I suppose they just assumed you were supposed to understand things on a visceral level. Then again, the only people who would be capable of feeling any of this on a visceral level are people who are already convinced by this bullshit. In other words, you are preaching to the choir. Good job, museum. Good job.

In spite of the fact that there was no writing in the ROOM OF RESTLESSNESS, there WAS a wall of videos where you could watch badly acted scenes of DEBAUCHERY, which showed the consequences of Godlessness. *gasperz* Let me transcribe a couple of the scenes for you:

Scene 1:
Punk boy in a "I ♥ Beer" t-shirt: No, dude, porn is art. It's like, I couldn't do what she's doing...

(Bobby: Well, obviously you couldn't. You don't have a vagina.)

Kid with spiked collar and mohawk: *Grunt* I don't care, man. Weed is so expensive.

(Me: Expensive? What kind of weed are you SMOKING?)

Scene 2:
Girl sitting in tacky bedazzled butterfly chair: No, srs, Becky, I'm so tots preggerz! ZOMG, my lief is OVER! Whaddoo I tell Craig? Like, zomg, you haz a kid? NOZ! I like toe-ta-lee haz to get an abortion!

(Kolby: *uncontrollable fit of giggles*)

After the ROOM OF RESTLESSNESS, we walked up to a television screen that played a video of dust turning into Adam in a continuous loop:

"Wait, wait, wait. Poorly researched displays and seemingly pointless giant dioramas of life-sized people and dinosaurs didn't convince you? Well, look at this: we have COMPUTER GENERATED GRAPHICS and PHOTOSHOP!"

Adam looks very Italian, and though he has a full beard, he has no chest hair. Those pecs are smooooth as a baby's bottom. How homoerotic.

Then the diorama-ness reached new heights with the life-sized Garden of Eden. I, of course, took the opportunity to snap gangsta-ninja shots of myself with the giant plastic llamas:

Adam's penis was tastefully covered up from all angles (I checked) by the strategic placement of a lamb and some foliage. I really don't know what Freud would have to say about that:

And naturally, the Garden of Eden had yet MORE DINOSAURS:

Pineapple sharein'. Good times.

WHY IIIIS HIS HEADSOBIG!? Whhhyyy is his heeeeeaaad so big? ~~(if you know what I'm quoting, I give you twelve internets)~~

Don't be sad Ankleosaurus! No, they were just being mean. You don't have cankles.

Adam and Eve, enjoying a beautiful and innocent bath in a lily pond. D'awwww:

WAIT A MINUTE! What's that above you?!?!

Satan: Eh? Don't mind me. I'm just sitting around, foreboding. Ominously, you know?

After this display, things went back to a dark, scary quality matched only by the ROOM OF RESTLESSNESS. We rounded the corner, and there was this door:

Pat: What the hell is this door doing here?
Me: Do you suppose they're trying to make some sort of statement about society? Like how we have to keep our doors locked to protect ourselves because of the deterioration of trust and increase of crime?
Bobby: ....Nah. They aren't that clever.
Me: True.

Next to this door was the ROOM OF TERROR, similar to the ROOM OF RESTLESSNESS, but more specifically geared to show what happened after Adam and Eve fell from grace:

Whoever did this ROOM OF TERROR design got it exactly right. Child birth is just as horrifying as genocide and atomic explosions.

I'm never having children.

Pat pointed out that this photo of a druggie sort of looked like something they'd use in a Hollister ad. Actually, he's kind of right. Just imagine the little seagull on the breast of his polo and you'll see.

Remember Adam and Eve, that good looking European couple from the Garden of Eden? Well, they've really let themselves go:

Voice over speakers: And God then did Cast Adam from the Garden, Proclaiming he would from that Point on be Destined to Forever be a Hot Mess.
Adam: DAMMIT, HONEY! You killed the dogs!

My favorite part of this display was when the voice over the speaker commented that "even fig leaves could not hide Adam's shame," and then Kolby, Patrick, Charlie, and Bobby spent the next few minutes debating loudly and at length how big Adam's "shame" must have been to not be capable of being covered up by fig leaves, who in the room would be the best at servicing Adam's "shame", and whether it was a cut or uncut "shame." It was probably the moment we came closest to getting kicked out.

We walked through another cave thing, turned a corner, and then we found THIS beauty standing there:

I was pretty excited about it. Like I've said many times before, velociraptor=win. Animatronic velociraptor= EPIC WIN.

Then we got to the part where they try to defend certain Bible glitches, like the confusion over where Cain got his wife.

Sooooo... your response to a question on the origins of Cain's wife is to begin by normalizing incest? Off to a good start. *shudders of ooginess*

Into the next room we had a talking Methuselah doll, and the makings of Noah's Ark.

The moving Methuselah was creepy as BALLS:

Then there was a terminology!fail in the Ark room:

REALLY? It's EVOLVING, Creation Museum? Why isn't it being CREATED BY GOD?

Now, up until this point I'd been holding it together pretty well. Then I nearly had a freak-out because (and I don't have a picture of this for some reason, I'll try to find one) they depicted DINOSAURS ON THE ARK. Normally, I wouldn't be bothered by this, but earlier on in the museum, the Flood was used as the reason why the dinosaurs died out.

Okay, I can deal with bat-shit crazy explanations, as long as they stay consistent within their own realm of insane rhetoric. But for them to blatantly contradict themselves like that, that to me speaks of levels of idiocy that I just can't fathom. WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING, MUSEUM?

I was roused into such a fury at this point, that when I saw this sign:

...in a fit of pique, I totally didst toucheth. I'm such a rebel.

To round off the museum, there was one more room full of life-size dinosaur models:

Oh! It makes so much SENSE now! WHY COULDN'T I SEE IT BEFORE????

My older sister (who is an anthropology major) had a stroke when she saw this.

Jenny: But even IF, even IF they say carbon dating is incorrect, even if the DATE on it is wrong, we should still be able to DATE dinosaur bones and human bones at the same wrong date! GRAAAAAGGGHHH!

There's also the whole "mass extinction" thing they were positing- that a ton of humans and dinosaurs died during the Flood at the same time. You really think if there was a MASS EXTINCTION you wouldn't find ANY dinosaur and human bones washed into the same spot? C'mon, now.

Afterwards, we made a quick stop to the museum gift shop, where I may or may not have pilfered several cheap plastic toys out of spite. And even though there was no communication of intent between I and anyone else, I may or may not have been the only one who may or may not have done this.

Me: Pony or dinosaur, Charlie?
Charlie: Huh?
Me: Pony or dinosaur?
Charlie: Uhhhh... dinosaur?
Me: *whips out plastic dinosaur* I got this fer ya!
Charlie: *whips out ANOTHER plastic dinosaur* I got my OWN!
Charlie and me: *evil chuckles*
Bobby: I hate you both.

Annnnnd, that's about it. For the Creation Museum at least. Afterwards, we made a few pit-stops in lots of fabulous/campy places on the ride back to Ann Arbor. I may write about those adventures tomorrow. Let me leave you with this photo of our Christian band's new album cover as a teaser:

Do let me know if you'd be interested in hearing more.

For now, thus ends the tale of the gallant and fabulous Spice Force Five, who have triumphed over insanity and resurrected the world's faith in validity and truth.

Sleep tight, my dear Virginia. Jesus is watching over you.

O___O

FUUUUUUUUUUUUU~

Sat, 26 Sep 2009 11:15:54 GMT

LSAT is today. Which is probably the second most important/life-defining exam I will ever take. In about an hour and a half.

I have:
1. Woken up at 6:30 am after getting three hours of sleep full of wacked-out, obviously terrified dreams
2. Taken a shower
3. Dressed in my Dunder Mifflin hoodie, Patrick's old polo shirt, my dad's wristwatch, and my little brother's sandals, in addition to re-reading Julia's heartening e-mail at least three times in a row, all to get myself into the CORRECT MINDSET, not for luck, because I'm SO not relying on luck for this one.
4. Talked briefly to Matt and Liz on the AIM, as the former is in France and up, and the latter is INSANE and getting ready to go tailgating to "get even drunker than I already am from last night."

It's at times like this that I almost wish I wasn't an atheist because then, even if I fail horribly today, I would still at least feel like Jesus has got my back.

Ugh. Commence freak-out. Activated.

Gratuitously Unnecessary and Irrelevant Video Post

Mon, 21 Sep 2009 20:29:58 GMT

....But I've watched this thing in excess of 25 times in a row. It. Is. AWESOME. :D

My Birthday

Wed, 16 Sep 2009 05:32:19 GMT

So, it was my 23rd birthday today.

Summary:

1. Fanfiction
2. Chats with Julia
3. Job hunting
4. More chats with Julia
5. Livejournaling
6. LSAT studying
7. Mussels in white wine and garlic
8. Two lobsters
9. Potato salad
10. Angela
11. Three bottles of wine
12. Double fudge chocolate cake that mom bought "for my birthday" when she's just looking for an excuse to buy chocolate cake. Still delicious.
13. Baggy the cat scratches my back off trying to reach the back of the chair
14. Drunk
15. Little sister dresses wounds
16. More wine
17. More cake
18. Success.

Yeah, I'm thinking you probably SHOULDN'T be trying to breed...

Wed, 12 Aug 2009 03:49:50 GMT

So, I was surfing on OKCupid (a free online networking and dating site), because I have very few friends in Midland and was hoping to maybe meet some people without resorting to going out to the bars or coffee shop or mall or any of the other "hip cool hang outs" that Midland obviously sports by the dozen.

One thing that AMAZES me about free online dating sites (or just internet sites in general) is the amount of times someone shoots out a lame pick-up line. Usually something along the lines of, "R U HORNY?" to which I normally respond, "No, I'm actually not any sort of ungulate at all." Sometimes you get a, "ur pic is so hott," which I normally don't dignify with a response. Nine times out of ten the guy messaging either doesn't HAVE a photo available at his profile or has a photo that is so friggen UGLY you don't know why he'd be trying to pick up people just for sex in the first place, since the only thing he could possibly have going for him is a winning personality. But I guess he doesn't have THAT if he's trying to instantly pick-up women on a website. But I digress.

I got a pick-up line shot at me tonight, and since I HAD been talking to somebody earlier about how futile the pick-up lines on OKCupid are, I decided to try and figure this shit out.

[11:02:40 pm]concrete_wheels:are you submissive in bed

[11:02:59 pm]MariaBubbia:Honestly? Do you really think lines like that work on people?

[11:03:10 pm]MariaBubbia:Really, tell me ONE TIME that you got laid after leading with that.

[11:03:37 pm]MariaBubbia:I really wanna know, because so many people seem to think it's a sure-fire way to woo the ladies. And yet I've never heard of it actually working.

[11:03:58 pm]concrete_wheels:it works if she is submissive

[11:04:09 pm]concrete_wheels:if she isn't i don't care

[11:04:38 pm]MariaBubbia:Well, I guess that's the theory behind it, but HAS it worked? Ever? Tell me honestly.

[11:04:56 pm]concrete_wheels:it honestly has worked

[11:05:03 pm]MariaBubbia:huh, interesting.

[11:05:03 pm]concrete_wheels:a lot

[11:05:22 pm]concrete_wheels:but it is a low percentage

[11:05:47 pm]MariaBubbia:What percentage are we talking about here? 80-20? 90-10?

[11:06:11 pm]MariaBubbia:how many people do you actually end up asking before it works, and is all the rejection honestly worth it? Well, I guess it must be.

[11:06:39 pm]concrete_wheels:1 in 50 for good phone sex, 1 in 100 for getting laid/blowjob

[11:07:51 pm]MariaBubbia:Wow, is it your job to go around propositioning people? How do you find the time to ask 100 people for such diminished amounts of returns?

[11:08:18 pm]MariaBubbia:In any case, it's a really bad business model.

[11:08:26 pm]concrete_wheels:it takes about 5 seconds to ask

[11:10:16 pm]MariaBubbia:But we're talking 5 seconds times 100 which is 500 seconds or about 8.3 minutes, but then I'm sure that doesn't factor in the time you take searching for people to ask online

[11:10:41 pm]concrete_wheels:nope

[11:11:03 pm]MariaBubbia:let's just say it takes you 10 minutes per conversation/proposition, which I think is a conservative estimate, considering that you have to find 100 new people every time you want to do this

[11:11:13 pm]MariaBubbia:unless you're mistakenly asking the same people more than once

[11:11:27 pm]concrete_wheels:that happens too

[11:12:10 pm]MariaBubbia:Huh. I wonder what it's like to have that amount of self-awareness, or lack thereof.

[11:12:48 pm]concrete_wheels:you are pretty boring

[11:12:49 pm]MariaBubbia:So let's just say, 100 times 10 minutes

[11:12:53 pm]MariaBubbia:which is 1000

[11:12:58 pm]MariaBubbia:which, divided by 60

[11:13:22 pm]MariaBubbia:it takes you 16 hours

[11:13:25 pm]MariaBubbia:to find someone to fuck you

[11:13:36 pm]MariaBubbia:when you could've just jerked off and saved everyone the trouble

[11:13:57 pm]MariaBubbia:And quite frankly, saved everyone the insult, and yourself a little self-respect.

[11:13:57 pm]concrete_wheels:so i'll block you. too short and fat to be this boring.

concrete_wheels went missing. We will deliver your message to their inbox if they do not return in the next few minutes.

Well, he certainly sounds like a keeper. It's silly, really, that some people think they can get away with shit like this. Embarrassing more than anything else.

Also, I love how his technique works, "a lot" but at the same time it's "a low percentage." A lot of a low percentage? What the hell does THAT mean? His definition for "a lot" is 1/50 or 1/100? Has he never TAKEN a math class? And how do I go from being "attractive enough for him to want to fuck" to "too short and fat to be this boring"? If by "boring" you mean calling you on your stupid pick-up line, then yeah. I guess that IS boring.

These are all questions we should ask. Perhaps if we unlock the answer to the douche-bag gene, we will unlock the answer to creating a biochemical weapon to poison the fuck out of them.

Speaking of killing people, looks like it's time to update the Genocide List.

Annnnnnnd, Heather just asked me how to spell "intelligent." What an oxy-moron. She's adorable. :D

Shark Week

Thu, 06 Aug 2009 04:53:37 GMT

Is basically the coolest thing ever. I SWEAR, THERE IS NOTHING MORE AWESOME THAN A 15 FOOT GREAT WHITE FUCKING JETTISONING INTO THE AIR 12 FEET WHILE TRYING TO CATCH A SEAL AT 20 MPH. I mean, I would never get tired of seeing that. You could show me the clips 100 times, and every time I'd be like, "WHOOOOOA! FUCK! HAHAHAHAHA!"

I also think I'm evil. My one friend was like, "I was scared and horrified because I saw this special on shark attacks and these kids got eaten." And then she glared at me, because my reaction to her saying that was to get this HUGE GRIN on my face, and to bounce in my seat and say, "That is the most awesome thing I've heard all day."

Seriously, what is it about Shark Week? I submit that it is an absolute good. For whatever reason you watch, you still WANT to watch, because it is FUCKING AWESOME.

THE WRITING JOURNAL IS UP AND RUNNING!

Tue, 28 Jul 2009 23:51:14 GMT

My new writing journal is up and running.

baka_writes

Creative title, I know.

If anyone's interested, go take a gander and tell me if it's user-friendly and all that. Let me know if there's anything I need to improve!

I need to start writing more fanfic. CUZ NOW I HAVE A PRETTY WRITING JOURNAL TO POST AT! *glee* And it only took me six hours or so to do it.

wheeee.

Additionally, to any of my lovely relatives who read this journal (Hi GRANDMA AND UNCLE ICK!) you are welcome to peruse my fanficition, though I have no idea why you would be interested. But the fanfiction is often off-color, sweary, and full of sexual themes (*GASP*explicit*COUGH*).

You have been warned. :D

Death death death

Tue, 28 Jul 2009 08:07:13 GMT

DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW EXCRUCIATING AND TIME-CONSUMING IT IS TO ARCHIVE ALL YOUR OLD FICTION INTO A WRITING JOURNAL?!?!

I'm only halfway done. Not even. And I've been working on it for a couple hours.

I'll finish it tomorrow.

I NEED TO MAKE A POST ON STRATFORD AND A POST ON THE CREATIONISM MUSEUM.

Maybe I should worry more about finding a part time job and studying for the LSAT. My parents are gonna kill me.

....and now it's time for bed.

Torchwood: Golden Age- An exercise in fabulous

Thu, 02 Jul 2009 15:59:33 GMT

In the run up to series 3, the BBC is releasing 3 Torchwood radio plays. The first one which became available yesterday, Asylum, was.... underwhelming. However, I had great hope for the one released today, as it was written by James Goss, the man who wrote the tie-in novel Almost Perfect. For those of you who haven't read Almost Perfect, just trust me when I say it was full of so much fabulous that when you're done reading the book, you find you've somehow become covered in glitter. So, naturally, your expectations of fabulous for anything that he writes should be high.

James Goss, I would like to take this moment to formally let you know that following my listening to Golden Age, I have decided that you are one of the most fierce people who ever lived, and that you and I should go dancing at the gay clubs together, possibly shoe shopping on the weekends. In short, sir, I am in big gay love with you.

Here's the synopsis of Golden Age as given by the BBC website where you can download it:

The Torchwood team are led to Delhi on the trail of a dangerous energy field. As the field grows, they witness the simultaneous disappearance of hundreds of people. Jack discovers that the field centres on an old colonial mansion, Torchwood India.

Shocked to find that Torchwood India is still going strong after he shut it down himself over 80 years ago, he is even more surprised to find that its members, including his old flame the Duchess, haven't aged a day.

Needless to say, with THAT summary, I had pretty high expectations. And the actual radio play met and exceeded almost every expectation of fabulous that I had.

Go listen to it. http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b00lg4nq

THE WRITING OF JAMES GOSS: CREATING FABULOUS

Setting:
In radio plays, it's amusing how they have to insert lines of the characters describing their surroundings since we don't have the visual:

Gwen: Is this really a Torchwood base? It looks like a five-star hotel!
Ianto: *in awe* Lots more marble than Torchwood Cardiff.
Gwen: Oh, it's even got a tiger's head on the wall.

HAHAHAHA!
Marble, tiger's head on wall, gin and whiskey being offered to the Torchwood characters in the early morning while old men play croquet on an impeccably manicured front lawn. Fabulous setting? Check, check, and CHECK.

Characters:
The duchess is Jack's old flame. Let's look at how she enters the scene.

Jack: The duchess? Is she still alive?
Ianto: Who's the duchess?
Jack: An old friend. She must be at least a hundred.
Ianto: Not early twenties and carrying a blunderbuss?
Gwen: GET DOWN!
*GUN SHOT OF FABULOUS*Duchess: Captain Jack Harkness. You're back.

The duchess...enters the play... with a BLUNDERBUSS... and starts trying to kill Jack. I. Just. It's. There are no words.

And then!

Duchess: Well, how do you do? Charmed. I'm Elanor, Duchess of Melrose. Call me Nellie. Do.
Ianto: *obviously disgruntled/jealous* Pleased to meet you.
Gwen: Hello. I love your ball gown.

So, just to recap, the duchess enters the scene wearing a BALL GOWN and starts shooting at Jack with a blunderbuss. Later on, she dictates where everyone must sit and what everyone must drink (which is mostly alcoholic beverages) and when Ianto asks for a coffee she bitchily gives him a lemonade (The Importance of Being Ernest, anyone?).

If there is anything more fabulous than that, I don't know what it is.

My friend Patrick did some leg-work and found a photo of Jasmine Hyde, the actress who voices the duchess. This is how I will forever picture the duchess in my head, because it is far too fabulous not to:

There she sits with her rum and coke on a hot summer morning. Fierce.

Additionally, if you didn't know how fabulous a blunderbuss is, THIS is how fabulous a blunderbuss is:

God, I love James Goss.

Fabulous characters? EPIC CHECK OF YES!

Jack/Ianto-love/Angsty things:

Here, I must admit I was a BIT disappointed. While there were obvious moments where Ianto was jealous and they did give the head-nod to Jack and Ianto being in a relationship of some sort, there wasn't any real Jack/Ianto confrontation or interaction throughout this whole thing. I await the massive amounts of fanfic this radio play should inspire to fill in the gap. Hell, maybe I'll even write some of my own.

There WAS a wonderfully angsty moment where the duchess asks Jack about Ianto, though:

Duchess: Where have you been all this time? Surely not Torchwood...
Jack: Cardiff.
Duchess: Cardiff, yes, of course. Mm. And what a lot of aliens must choose that as their first port of call.
Jack: Oh, you'd be surprised. We've got a rift.
Duchess: Oh, if only we had one of those, I'm positively jealous.
Jack: Of the rift?
Duchess: Perhaps. Mr. Jones, he's very good-looking is he your ah-
Jack: *abruptly* Assistant.
Duchess: No doubt.

TWIST THE KNIFE IN MY CHEST, WHY DON'T YOU, JACK! Grah! I want to punch him in the face sometimes. I can just imagine Ianto off somewhere else in the building suddenly doubling over in pain. Gwen says, "Are you alright?" to which Ianto answers, "I don't know. I'm having a very bad day and I'm not sure why. It's kind of like that time that Jack and Tosh got trapped in WWII. I had the same stomach-ache then."

IANTO IS SUCH A WOOBIE and COMPLETELY UNDERAPPRECIATED! I don't understand how Jack can be such a jerk-face. I'd LIKE to believe that Jack is telling the duchess Ianto is his assistant so that Ianto won't be singled out in a crazy jealous rampage (she DID try to shoot Jack after all) or to protect Ianto from any sort of evil attention a la Peter Parker and MJ of the Spiderman chronicles, but at this point in the plot Jack is happily shuffling down memory lane with the duchess and probably doesn't see her as a real threat to Ianto. So Jack is probably just being... Jack. *sigh* Honestly, at this point it's COMMIT OR GET OUT, YOU TOOL! Quit stringing the poor kid along. Srsly.

So Jack/Ianto love? Sadly, I won't grant it a check because it didn't give me any sort of real interaction between the two. However, angsty woobie-ness? Giant check. Hell yes.

Other random stereotypical and fabulous things I was expecting of a radio play set in India:

Elephants? Check, check.
Atrocious Indian accent from a bumbling convenient store-owner type character? CHECK.
Reference to Buddhism? Check.
Gandhi? Check.

Overall, it was a win. If I don't get more Jack/Ianto love from series 3, however, I am going to be sorely disappointed.

Maybe they'll have something in tomorrow's radio play. We can only hope.

Now I will go back to being a slightly less pathetic person and doing something productive with my day.

Which really means I'm going to go back to waiting helplessly for series 3. *sigh*

No, we do NOT have ice cream after 11 pm, Jackoff.

Sat, 13 Jun 2009 05:57:20 GMT

Some of you may remember my Genocide List. I've got another group of people to add: People who are consistently or to a great magnitude inconsiderate to service industry workers.

Tonight at work it was friggen busy. It was bad enough that all of the effing little high school-ers are done for the summer as of today and have taken over downtown, (that's another rant altogether) but I was AMAZED at the amount of absolute douche-baggery floating around. It's honestly as if people suddenly lose all decency and common sense when they're talking to anyone who works in the service industry.

I feel it should be a requirement of living in this country that you work a service job for at least two years, like conscription into the army. I'm pretty sure that would solve a lot of the rudeness that people treat their sandwich-makers, retail salesmen, and bank tellers with. For those of you who have never worked a service job, here's a few rules to follow in your interactions with anyone working at a place from which you are buying things:

HOW TO NOT BE A COMPLETE JERKFACE:

1. Unless it is an absolute emergency of some sort, you never, ever, ever go into a place of business unless it is at least half an hour before close. For example, if the place closes at 11 pm, it's okay to go in if it's 10:30 pm or earlier. If you DO feel the need to go in less than half an hour before close, you must acknowledge the fact that you are a jerk, apologize profusely, be friendly, and get your stuff and get out in no longer than ten minutes.

Bonus Piece of Information: if the thing you feel the need for is somehow food related or not completely necessary to your continued existence, there is really no excuse to go in when it's less than half an hour to close. Honestly, you don't need that sandwich at 10:45 pm if the sandwich place closes at 11 pm. If you're really that hungry, go somewhere that's open later, or face the wrath of someone who gets to put their gloved hands all over your food.

Related Story: A girl and her boyfriend came in 10 minutes after close. Company policy states that we have to serve people until 15 minutes after close. The girl made the mistake of acknowledging the fact that she knew she was in the store late and didn't care - "You close at 11? Oh, it's only 11:10, we still have time then." - and then compounded the mistake by deciding to STAY to eat her sandwich, giving the excuse: "We only have 20 minutes in the meter so we'll be out of your hair." - and then stayed for 45 effing minutes. Because, guess what, asshole? You don't need to put money into street meters after 6 pm, since parking becomes free then.

2. Get off your flipping cell phone. No, really. I don't care if you're talking to your mom, your friend, or your dying grandmother. If you're in line to order food, then fucking order your food, sit down, and THEN make your phone call. There is absolutely no conversation important enough that it can't be put on hold for the two measly minutes it takes to order, and if someone calls you in the middle of your order, the only reason you should pick it up is to say, "I'm ordering food, I'll call your right back," and then hang up. If you're waiting for some sort of intensely important phone call, wait for the call at home and make food there. Honestly.

Bonus Piece of Information: Even if you say "One second," and hold your phone against your shoulder to order, I still think you're a dick. It also makes me want to scream obsenities and moan at the top of my lungs so whoever you're on the phone with thinks you're watching porn.

Related Story: This one time, a woman literally held up her finger and told ME to hold on a second so she could answer her phone. I had to wait a full minute so I could find out what toppings she wanted on her sandwich, and then she later came up and complained her sandwich was cold. Of course it was cold, it sat on the cutting board for a minute getting cool because she had to talk to "Kim" about "getting the boys together on Tuesday."

3. Do not take advantage of any past generosity of the staff, or try to scam them into giving you something because you understand how some of the company policies work. Any free shit you could get is definitely not worth the karma you're building up, and if you're so hungry you need free food, go to a soup kitchen or somewhere that it's their job to do that. You have to understand, I honestly don't give a crap if you take 20 sandwiches, but my BOSS certainly would, and I don't want to get fired because you're a jerk.

Bonus Piece of Information: Never ask for something directly, or complain just because you want a comped meal when there's no actual fault in the product. If you ask directly for a free cookie, it makes me ten times less likely to give it to you. If you complain about there being a hair in the food but can't show me the actual piece of hair on the sandwich, I'll be forced to comp you a new one, but you can bet everyone in the kitchen will be glaring at you for the rest of your stay.

Related Story: There's this one guy who always comes in ten minutes to close (see number 1) and orders two turkey sandwiches without cheese. I ask to ring him up at the register and he says that earlier, they made him two sandwiches with cheese, but "the lady" said if he came back they'd make him replacement sandwiches. I have a few problems with this BS story. Number one, it's completely unrealistic that we wouldn't make him new sandwiches right away, so he's got his information about company policy wrong. Number two, he's obviously come in enough that I recognize him, as do other members of the staff who have turned him away, but he apparently doesn't recognize us because he still tries it again and again. If you came into a store to try to scam someone, you should scam someone you haven't tried to scam before. It just shows a bad scammer when they can't even be bothered to remember the faces of the people who have thwarted past attempts. Number three, he uses the same story every time. Show some creativity, please. If you're not invested in your own scam, why are you even trying?

4. If the store is closed, you have no right to get angry about that fact. You are not in any way, shape, or form entitled to make purchases from a privately owned business. There is no intrinsic human right that states "I have money, so they must sell their property to me." If you show any sort of sadness or frustration at the fact that the store is closed, you are a dick. The appropriate response to any employee telling you, "Sorry, we're closed," is to apologize for walking in to the store and disrupting their closing routine, and then make a hasty exit.

Bonus Piece of Information: It doesn't matter how drunk you are. And no, I don't care if technically, I still have the capability to sell you something (i.e., the oven is still on, the cash register is still online), do not argue with me or try to bargain your way into me selling you something. For example, you asking, "Well, if the oven is off, could you just scoop me some ice cream?" is not going to impress me. If I wasn't going to make you a sandwich, I sure as hell am not going to get you an ice cream cone just because it's a different product. Closed means closed, dammit.

Related Story: Tonight, we had been closed for half an hour. This guy comes up to the doors, and when he finds that they're locked, he starts to actually knock on them. My co-worker Tara went up to him and he said loud enough for her to hear through the glass door, "Do you have ice cream?" Well, it doesn't matter whether we do or not, jackass, the doors are locked, so that should tell you you're not getting any. Tara responds, "Sorry, we're closed!" His response? To mime licking an ice cream cone and shouting "ICE CREAM!?" like she's stupid and didn't understand him the first time. I could feel Tara's glare from across the room before she jerked her finger towards the hours of operation sign. Finally, he got the picture and walked off.

5. Watch your fucking kids. The store is not a playground, and I will not be held responsible for my actions if they mess up the floors I just swept or get hurt while running around and touching things they shouldn't.

Bonus Piece of Information: If you have too many children to be managed in a crowded public space, keep them out of crowded public spaces.

Related Story: I nearly KILLED this little kid who started dinging the service bell over and over and OVER when I was right there and already taking their order. Of course his parents did nothing to stop him. And when I asked politely if he would stop ringing the bell, they had the gall to look offended that I should be telling their kid what to do.

6. If the place you are going is not a sit-down restaurant, clean up after yourself. If you move the tables around, put them back where you found them. If you were rifling through piles of shirts, fold them and put them back as best you can. Any sort of retail you took off the shelf to look at, put it back where you found it.

Bonus Piece of Information: Technically, it is the job of the employees to clean tables/fold clothes/organize retail. This does not, however, mean I am your personal maid. Pick up your shit.

Related Story: A group of people who were in town for a conference decided they wanted to eat at Potbelly's for several lunches during their stay. Because they said they would be coming back, the general manager gave them all free cans of soda and free cookies and comped some of their sandwiches because they couldn't afford everything. When they finished eating, we went upstairs to discover they had pulled together all of the tables without putting them back, left their trash all over everything, including half-drunk cans of coke, and left about 12 coke cans just sitting around that were un-opened. So we had to gather up all the coke cans and put them back in the cooler, bus the tables and re-organize them. Way to show gratitude for all the free stuff they just got. Assholes.

7. Unless the service was absolutely atrocious, tip at LEAST 10 percent. If the service was really bad, you need to explain why the person is not getting their tip.

Bonus Piece of Information: Even if you don't see a tip jar, if you really liked the service, offer to give one anyway. If people went out of their way to help you out (for example, one time I ran across the street to Starbucks to buy people coffee because we don't have any) ask what you can do to show your appreciation. If you just accept stellar service like it is your due, it makes you less likely to get stellar service in the future. Additionally, if you can't afford to tip, don't buy the stuff in the first place. The tip isn't "required" by any technical rule, but it is required if you're not a total dick.

Related Story: My co-worker Ryan delivers the lunch orders. One time, he got a huge catering order that came to $450. He made and dressed all the sandwiches himself, loaded all the side-salads and chips into his car, got to the place five minutes early, and unloaded all the crap for them. The woman hands him the tip, rolled up like it was a fat wad of bills, and told him to have a nice weekend. How much was the tip? Three dollars for a $450 order. Ryan decidedly did not have a nice weekend.

Any more points to add? I feel like there are a lot more, I just can't think of them right now. Let me know if I missed any.

I hate this day

Thu, 11 Jun 2009 15:50:15 GMT

All of my posts have been fairly whiny lately. Oh, well. Here's another one to add to the pile.

I hate this day. It is humid and raining and RIDICULOUS, and no matter what I do my hair ends up looking like THIS:

Additionally, today I fell asleep in stats class (though on the upside, I will be completely effing done with stats after next Wednesday).

I literally have 3 dollars to last me until my next paycheck, so I decided to go sell all of my philosophy books from last semester, because I can always check them out at the library, and I don't REALLY need them, right? And besides, philosophy may feed my mind, but I need to feed my stomach... and pay for parking.

So I spent half an hour running from class to my car to get my books, to the store where they told me I needed my UM ID only for me to find out I left my ID at my apartment, and I've parked in a parking garage with no money to pay for parking on the contingency that I would be able to sell my books before I left. I had to run to the advising center to ask what my ID number is only to run BACK to the store to find out that 8 philosophy books that I paid over a 150 dollars for get me a total of 19 fucking dollars to last me until next Friday. I take the receipt upstairs to the register, to find that for some reason, two jack-off nerdy looking guys have decided they need to buy 30 dollars worth of UM logo-stamped pencils (honestly, wtf.) which is as aggravating as the classic old lady counting pennies at the bank teller, except twice as ridiculous because who the hell needs that many friggen pencils? And the cashier counted them all at least 8 times to make sure they were all there, and I wanted to scream because all I wanted was my 19 measley dollars so that I can get the hell out of downtown thank-you-very-much.

And then after I got my 19 dollars (finally) I almost turned around and punched the two pencil-buyers in the FACE because as I went to leave they came up to the register with a couple more pencils to buy.

WHO THE HELL NEEDS THAT MANY PENCILS!?!? Theories? I'm personally thinking they're making a giant effigy to the UM pencil gods to burn upon graduation. That's the only way I won't feel like they wasted my time. Honestly.

STATS 350 hates me

Sat, 30 May 2009 19:38:30 GMT

I'm absolutely terrible. I haven't updated in FOREVER... again. I THOUGHT I would get a break between winter semester and spring semester, because, you know, I only have 2 more friggen classes to take until I am officially DONE with my philosophy degree and applying for law schools, but apparently that's not how the University of Michigan works. And apparently it turns out I need STATS 350 to graduate.

Which is fine, right, because, "Maria, but, but Ugg-wearing sorostitutes take STATS 350 for their math credit, and they usually fail ENG 101!" However, you must be aware of the fact that because of her philosophy degree, Maria has not been required to take a math class of ANY sort since junior year of high school, and 5 years spent only doing enough math to make change for customers at Potbelly when the registers are broken is not nearly enough to count as any sort of real math... ever. Plus I need to get at least an A- in this course to bring my GPA up from a 3.4 to a 3.5. Thankfully, I've been kicking my own butt and have gotten an A- on the first exam, which, with the first quiz score thrown in, means that so far, I have an A- in the course overall.

But I'm scared I won't do well because it's only getting harder. That's what she said.

However, I HAVE found some time to write my Janto fic (after not posting a chapter for 4 months) and did go to Stratford with Mom, Cappie, Liz, and Jade without exploding from stress about my courses, which was a near thing.

THINGS TO DO:

1. Get an A- in STATS 350, because I've totally got COMPLIT 122 in the bag.

2. FINALLY make a post about the trip to the Creation Museum.

3. Make a post about the trip to Stratford and how fabulous the Importance of Being Ernest was. (Lady Bracknell played by Brian Bedford, FTW)

4. I've been debating whether I should do this for a while, and it seems I should Get With The Times and finally create a writing journal, because I never post my fic to my personal journal (that's here), fanfic.net is woefully inadequate at being awesome, and much of my fic is scattered through the comms like so many leaves in the wind.

So within the next couple of months, I shall compile all my many fandoms and writings onto one livejournal after editing them. Though the older fic, I think I'll post but not bother with the editing. Especially my RENT fic. God, it makes me depressed to read Dying By Surviving. But I'm sure I'll go back and read Revelations in a couple years and feel the same way. There's a time-stamp on how good I feel about my writing, it seems, because I'm not really sure if I'm getting any better. *sigh* Though why I take FANFICTION so seriously, of all things, I'll never know.

5. Clean my apartment. Buy groceries. Do laundry. This really shouldn't be at the bottom of the list.

Additionally, Jenny is the best older sister ever, because for my graduation present, she CROCHETED ME A IANTO. zomg.

It's a perfect likeness!

Ianto!doll always seems to be looking to the left inquiringly.

Ianto!doll is depressed by his dead robot girlfriend and his jaded immortal lover.

Ianto!doll is sometimes afraid of aliens who disrupt carefully planned-out schedules.

Ianto!doll is shocked at your lack of class or propriety. You fail.

Ianto!doll does not like it when you drink coffee he has not made. Ianto!doll disapproves of corporate coffee shops. They brew crap and the baristas don't know what the eff they're doing.

Ianto!doll can fly and make airplane noises.

Additionally, I would like to say that he has CUFFLINKS. And his suit coat buttons and unbuttons. But I can't take his pants off. :(

Final Exams... This is Why I Haven't Been Writing

Mon, 27 Apr 2009 15:58:56 GMT

Graah! Just. One. More. Final. I keep telling myself it'll be over soon, even though it feels like it won't, even though my last final is on Wednesday. I can't handle this. The stress is killing me.

Last Thursday's final was by far the worst. I didn't REALLY buckle down and start studying until far too late on Wednesday night, so I pulled an all nighter.

Of course, at 6:00 am when I decided to move from an abandoned classroom to the computer lab, everything went to hell.

If you've been hanging around me lately, you'll know that I have a piece of crap laptop (a craptop, if you will). Bobby laughs at me constantly because the power chord is janky, and I have to wiggle it, tie it in knots, or drape it around my computer JUST SO in order for the battery to begin charging. When I plugged in my laptop at the computer lab, it was having issues, no matter how I wiggled the chord or draped it, and I was getting frustrated at the lack of charging.

And obviously, when I saw the smoke out of my peripheral vision, I had been up for 30 hours so I figured I was just hallucinating. At least until my friend Taylor looks over and goes, "HOLY SHIT, Maria! Your computer is smoking!"

I'm a little slow on the uptake still so instead of unplugging my computer and backing the fuck up, I sniff at the smoke (it smelt rubber-y) before turning my computer around to see where it was coming from. That's when I notice that the power port has become some sort of rocket jet-pack because flames are shooting out of it, and a good length of the power chord is engulfed in flames and sparking.

My mind finally caught up so I screamed, "JESUS!" and flung my rolly chair backwards. Taylor, like an action hero movie star, lunges for the chord and rips it out of the wall. I'm left to explain in halting language why there was screaming to the techies in the computer lab. They weren't amused, but told me bluntly, "Oh. That happens a lot."

Did I miss the memo titled, "Oh, and besides sex causing babies, your laptop will probably explode at one point in your life." ? Because I'm pretty sure that shit should NEVER happen. Especially during finals.

So I was left with only enough power in my battery to last me an hour since my power chord was shot. I spent the rest of the day ninja-studying... I'd do as much work as I could not using the notes on my computer, then flip it open, frantically scribble down as much as I could, and slam it closed again to conserve energy. It sucked.

When I called dad to tell him about it, he cracked up for a minute and then said, "Out of all my kids, I'd want to be you the least," and "I'd rather be me than you, and I had a heart attack last year."

Thanks, Dad.

The day got worse, because as I was up all night, I contracted a fairly nasty sore throat. After taking my final (and kicking it's ass six ways to Wednesday) I decided to go get some tea at the Espresso Royale. I downed it fairly quickly because my throat was KILLING me, and then left to go to my car, go home, and get some sleep.

Of course, in my sleep deprived state, I hadn't factored in that it was 80 degrees outside, I hadn't eaten in 12 hours or slept in 36, and I had just downed a cup of scalding hot tea in 10 minutes. My stomache began to rebel immediately.

I did that thing you do when you think you're going to throw up but you REALLY don't want to and try to talk yourself out of it. Like that ever works. "No, come on, you're fine. You don't feel sick. It's a beautiful day out! Distract yourself by looking at the birds! Aren't they pretty? Just two more blocks to your car. You'll make it. You feel great!" My stomache cannot be reasoned with.

And it decides to finally lose it right in the middle of the diag, which is one of the highest-traffic areas on campus. Especially during exams. I made it to a trash can that was off to the side before hurling, but I still caused a mortifying commotion. This girl even came up and was like, "OMGZ, R u, liek, okay? Do you want me to call 911??!" And I'm like, "NO! Do NOT call 911. Please. I'm fine. Just... *tear* don't look at me, okay?"

I hate finals. Even though it's really my own fault and not theirs.

I AM MADE OF LAME

Mon, 13 Apr 2009 06:14:57 GMT

So Kolby was doing this personality profile thing. You had to go through a bunch of lists of words and say which one described you most, which least, an then score all the groups of words to determine your personality type. This is what I got:

INSPIRATIONAL PATTERN

Emotions: accepts aggression; downplays need for affection
Goal: control of their environment or audience
Judges others by: projection of personal strength, character, and social power
Influences others by: charm, direction, intimidation; use of rewards
Value to the organization: acts as a "people mover"; initiates, demands, compliments, disciplines
Overuses: attitude that "the ends justify the means"
Under pressure: becomes manipulative, quarrelsome or beligerent
Fears: weak behavior; loss of social status
Would increase effectiveness through: genuine sensitivity; willingness to help others to succeed in their own personal development

Persons with the Inspirational Pattern consciously attempt to modify the thoughts and actions of others. They want to control their environment. They are astute at identifying and manipulating an individual's existing motives in order to direct that person's behavior toward a predetermined end.

Inspirational persons are clear about the results they want, but they do not always immediately verbalize them. they state the results they want only after they have primed the other person, offering friendship to those who desire acceptance, authority to those who seek power, and security to those who want a predictable environment.

Inspirational persons can be charming in their interactions. They are persuasive when they want help in repetitive and time-consuming details. People often experience a conflicting sensation by feeling drawn to Inspirational people and yet being curiously distanced. Others may feel "used" by Inspirational persons' powers of manipulation. Although they sometimes inspire fear in others and override their decisions, Inspirational persons are generally well liked by co-workers because they use their considerable verbal skills to persuade others whenever possible. Inspirational persons clearly prefer to accomplish goals through cooperation and persuasion instead of dominance.

This doesn't really fit me PERFECTLY, but I feel like it's prooty close. And of course, because I am a lame ass, and have to connect everything back to Torchwood, I started thinking about how in my friendship group I have been designated as the "Jack Harkness" (we have this tendency to assign roles to ourselves when watching television and movies). And as I read this profile again it sounded a lot like Jack.

So I went through and found some of the other personality profiles that TOTZ fit the other four Torchwood guys... because it is late and I have nothing better to do. SO I will post under the cut the abbreviated profiles of Tosh, Ianto, Owen, and Gwen. Obviously, the Inspirational Pattern is given to Jack. Wha.

No one cares, I know this. I'm okay with it. :D

Toshiko Sato
PRACTITIONER PATTERN

Emotions: wants to keep up with others in effort and technical performance
Goal: personal growth
Judges others by: self-discipline, position and promotions
Influences others by: confidence in their ability to master new skills; development of "proper" procedures and actions
Value to the organization: is skilled in technical and people problem-solving; displays proficiency in specialization
Overuses: overattention to personal objectives; unrealistic expectations of others
Under pressure: becomes restrained; is sensitive to criticism
Fears: being too predictable; no recognition as "expert"
Would increase effectiveness through: genuine collaboration for common benefit; delegation of key tasks to appropriate individuals

Practitioners value proficiency in specialized areas. Spurred on by a desire to be "good at something" they carefully monitor their own work performance. They project a relaxed, diplomatic, and easygoing style. Congenial attitude may change quickly in their own work area when they become intensely focused in order to meet high standards for performance. They have high expectations for themselves and others, and they tend to express their disappointment.

Ianto Jones
SPECIALIST PATTERN

Emotions: is calculatingly moderate; accomodates others
Goal: maintenance of the status quo; controlled environment
Judges others by: friendship standards; competence
Influences others by: consistent performance; accomodating others
Value to the organization: plans short term; is predictable, consistent; maintains steady pace
Overuses: modesty; low risk-taking; passive resistance to innovation
Under pressure: becomes adaptable to those in authority and thinks with the group
Fears: change, disorganization
Would increase effectiveness through: public discussion of their ideas; self-confidence based on feedback; shortcut methods

Specialists "wear well" with others. With their controlled stance and modest manner, they are able to work well with a number of behavioral styles. They are considerate, patient, and always willing to help those they consider friends. They build close relationships with a relatively small group of associates.

Their efforts are directed toward retaining familiar and predictable patterns. Most effective in specialized areas, they plan their work along directed channels and achieve a remarkably consistent performance. Appreciation from others helps to maintain that level of consistency.

Specialists are slow to adapt to change. Prior conditioning gives them time to change their procedures while maintaining a consistent level of performance. Finished projects are often put aside for further revisions. Specialists should consider throwing away old files that have outlived their usefulness.

Owen Harper
RESULT-ORIENTED PATTERN

Emotions: verbalizes ego strength; displays rugged individualism
Goal: dominance and independence
Judges others by: ability to accomplish tasks quickly
Influences others by: force of character; diligence
Value to the organization: persistence; doggedness
Overuses: impatience; "win-lose" competition
Under pressure: becomes critical and fault-finding; resists participating with a team; may overstep boundaries
Fears: others will take advantage of them; slowness, especially in task activities; being a pushover
Would increase effectiveness through: explanation of their reasoning and consideration of other views and ideas about goals and solutions to problems; genuine concern for others; patience and humility

Result-Oriented people display self-confidence, which some may interpret as arrogance. They undertake responsibilities with an air of self-importance and display self-satisfaction once they have finished. They like difficult tasks, competitive situations, unique assignments, and "important" positions.

They tend to avoid direct controls, time-consuming details, and routine work. Because they are forceful and direct, they may have difficulties with others. They are quick thinkers, and they are impatient and critical toward those who are no. They evaluate others on their ability to get results. They are determined and persistent even in the face of antagonism. They may appear blunt and uncaring.

Gwen Cooper
COUNSELOR PATTERN

Emotions: is approachable; shows affection and understanding
Goal: friendship; happiness
Judges others by: positive acceptance of others; ability to look for the good in people
Influences others by:personal relationships; "open door" policy
Value to the organization: remains stable and predictable; develops a wide range of friendships; listens to others' feelings
Overuses: indirect approach; tolerance
Under pressure: becomes overly flexible and intimate; is too trusting without differentiating among people
Fears: pressuring people; being accused of causing harm
Would increase effectiveness through: attention to realistic deadlines; initiative to complete tasks

Counselor's impress others with their warmth, empathy, and understanding. Their optimism makes it easy to look for the good in others. As a good listener with a willing ear for problems, a Counselor offers suggestions gently and refrains from imposing his or her ideas on others.

They tend to be overly tolerant and patient with non-producers. Counselors may be indirect when issuing orders, making demands or disciplining others. By adopting the attitude that "people are important," Counselors may place less emphasis on task accomplishment. They often take criticism as a personal affront. When in a position of responsibility, they tend to be attentive to the quality of working conditions and provide adequate recognition for members of their group.

I win the lame card. Forever. What you think?

The Phases of Fail

Tue, 07 Apr 2009 16:36:50 GMT

So I just stayed up late last night (read: I got an hour of sleep... maybe) working on the bulk of a paper.

It's not like I hadn't done any work before this- most of the reading and the outline I had finished, but for some reason I find myself incapable of working on something intensively until the night BEFORE IT IS DUE. I honestly don't know what the fuck my problem is. If I could figure out the root, I would correct the problem. Every time I tell myself this is not going to happen again, every time I take a few steps to do a little bit more work before the night the paper is due, and EVERY TIME this doesn't seem to really mean anything.

Bobby was talking about how he had three pages of one paper done, two of another and both of the papers are due in a couple weeks. I expressed confusion at this. "How do you do that? I mean, how do you write a paper without finishing it?" There is some sort of state of being, some COMPULSION within me that makes it impossible for me to write papers in any way other than how I am accustomed to writing them.

And apparently, this pattern of mine is so pronounced that Bobby and Matt have noticed and compiled a list of the the phases of my paper writing. Their observations and splitting up of the phases is so scarily accurate that I just HAD to post it here.

Maria’s 13 Phases of Impending Doom

1) Distraction

a. Can last days

b. Typical manifestations include hanging out with friends, Torchwood/Doctor Who, porn, and sleeping

2) Denial

a. “Its not gonna be that bad…this is just what I always do”

b. “Oh shut up, you knew I wasn’t going to start it tonight”

3) Compromise

a. As the impending doom outpaces the denial, Maria turns to scheduling compromises to continue her procrastination

b. “If I do nothing for a bit now…I’ll be able to dedicate myself wholly to this later tonight”

4) Reassurance

a. Doubt grows, causing the need for outsiders to validate and enable her bad behavior

b. “This will totally work….right?....RIGHT?!?!”

5) Not work Pre-work

a. Typically a response to less than hearty reassurance by friends, Maria partakes of her own pointless self-reassurance through busywork

b. Typical forms include: Fiddling w/ pre-existing outlines; Needless organizing and reorganizing of sources and tangible objects in reach; numerous re-readings of the essay prompt

6) Nap

a. Having assuaged her initial insecurities through fake productivity, a reward of sorts is in order

b. This phase can occasionally be skipped if the Distraction/Denial phases involved sleeping past 2pm or numerous previous naps

7) Frantic Bargaining and Rationing

a. Fueled by guilt from procrastination, heightened if Nap phase was utilized, Maria begins to furiously calculate time rations and impossible self-imposed deadlines

"So if I write 200 words every 20 minutes for the next 2 hours, divide that by the expected word count and a slight increase in inertia, added to the amount of peer-pressure and minus the temperature in the computer lab, I should be able to finish the paper by 2:30."

b. A reward structure in the form of Pizza House or Egg a’ Muffins is usually used

8) Epic Freakout

a. Feeling of impending doom hits critical level, all previous reassurance or planning is negated

b. “IIIIIII’MMMM GONNA KILL MYSELF…I’m GOING to KILL myself”

c. A mild amount of haphazard actual work is completed, though accompanied with much cursing and assurances to those surrounding here that her writing is “a pile of shit”

9) Nap Round 2: An Exercise in Futility

a. In an attempt to calm nerves, Maria is inexplicably convinced that a 15 min nap on her keyboard will make all of her problems go away

b. This nap will be cut short, sometimes even under 1 min, as panic overrides her natural instinct to nap

Example: "I'm just going to take a short nap and then I'll work from 2:00 am until Pizza House gets here." *Head down* *Two second pause* "AGGGH! I can't do this!" *Resumes frantic not work pre-work*

10) Epic Freakout Round 2

a. Similar to Round 1, but typically with the addition of tense snapping at those around her.

b. Will last until arrival of food

11) Zombie Like Productivity

a. Pretty Self Explanatory

b. Cannot begin before 2am, but can last 4-8 hrs

12) Victory

a. Maximum of 2 hrs prior to time assignment due, typically much less

b. Accompanied by phrases like “I am a BAMF!” and "My sentence structure PWNS."

13) Denial Round 2

a. The essential phase which continues the cycle of procrastination

b. “That wasn’t so bad”

Last night was the third time in as many weeks that the phases were enacted. Honestly, I'll stop doing it when it stops being so damn amusing. Because it really kind of is.

Dear Michigan, I hate you.

Mon, 06 Apr 2009 04:42:43 GMT

Dear Michigan,

I was working a closing shift at Potbelly tonight. You know how much I hate those. We've had long conversations about it when I walk home at midnight. So, Michigan, you can imagine my surprise and horror when I finished mopping the floors to find that you'd decided it was a good opportunity for you to precipitate all over the fucking place. In blizzard form.

What the hell, Michigan? I thought we were all done with that the last three times it got warm for a week and then fucking cold again. Why do you have to get my hopes up this way only to dash them with 30 mph winds and below freezing temperatures? I'm getting sick and fucking tired of digging my car out from under 10 feet of snow only to skid on the ice and crash into a tree when I finally get the engine to start. I black out as a result of the crash for three hours, and when I wake up, I'm sitting in a wrecked car with the sun beating down on it. Not acceptable, Michigan. It's just a cruel joke.

I thought we were friends, Michigan. We've known each other for 22 years. If you're mad I went to see Florida around Christmas, you only have to tell me so. Remember, I ended up spending New Year's with you. I thought it was fair. Punishing me this way is childish and will only serve to make me want to be around you less. I've already thought about how it would be nice to go visit Florida again soon. You catch more flies with honey, Michigan. I thought you understood that.

Is there something you want to talk about, Michigan? You must be upset. Being passive aggressive is not the best way to get what you want. We're not dating, Michigan. You don't get to act like you're fine for a week only to freak out for three days, then be fine for a week and freak out for another two. You're warm and welcoming and SNAP, suddenly you're cold and bitter. You have to express to me when you're angry instead of snubbing me to hang out with your old pal, Condensation. I thought we were past this, Michigan.

Michigan, you have to know I'm willing to work this out. I don't want us to be at odds with each other. It makes it awkward not only for me, but for everyone else around you. It's not fair to take it out on entire cities when you have a problem with me, Michigan. You'll only create more enemies.

Please call me, Michigan. We need to have a serious conversation.

Love,
Maria

I am a friggen waste of space.

Sun, 01 Mar 2009 06:00:21 GMT

I haven't updated in forever.

I haven't done a LOT of things I said I was gonna do. This was my Spring Break week. I was supposed to catch up.

Things I Haven't Done

1. I went to the Creation Museum and a bunch of tourist traps last weekend with the gays. For the rest of the week of Spring Break, I said I was gonna write the account of the Creation Museum complete with PHOTOS and MOVING PICTURE BOXES on my livejournal. But then I couldn't figure out how to upload videos to YouTube, and I got lazy and I haven't done it. But I will. I swear. It is a Story That Must Be Told.

2. I said I would write the next chapter of my pathetic Jack/Ianto-fanfic-what-the-fuck-am-I-doing-with-my-life story. That'll get done eventually too.

3. I said I would get a jump start on the reading for my classes for next week. What a surprise that I didn't, eh?

4. I said I would stop spending money, clean my apartment, buy real groceries, and STOP FAILING SO HARD. Zip. Zilch. Nada.

Things I Have "Accomplished"

1. Go to Midland to my parents' house. Which sucks my soul. Stayed there for five days when I said I would stay for two.

2. Sleep.

3. Eat all the food in my family's house.

4. AND, on ONE memorable occasion- eat 5 pieces of fried chicken, two double cheeseburgers, 6 beers, 4 gin and tonics, and watch a horror movie called Grizzly Peak with Kent for the sole fact that it had the tag line: "It's gonna be a bear." I threw up at five in the morning into a trash can. My father was very proud.

Grizzly Peak

It was a good movie because I was drunk. Veh-he-heeerrry drunk. I watched it for the romance between Ranger Bob and Beebee. It was the love story of our time.

Until the bear mauled her at the end and ripped her tit off. Her breast implant was knocked into a tree and fell with a squelch of blood and silicon.

Then the credits rolled.

I feel like the whole movie was built around that moment. Like that was the punchline. Like some guys were sitting around and one of them said, "Hey, wouldn't it be awesome if there was some girl you weren't sure had breast implants or not, and the way you found out that she DID have breast implants was if a bear came up and clawed her tit off so the breast implant flew out?!? Wouldn't that be fucking awesome?" Then they made a movie out of it where the Asian and the Black kid get killed first. Of course.

Thanks, guys. Surprisingly, it WAS pretty fucking awesome.

I think I need to lie down.

I promise a more meaningful post will come soon.

I owe you guys a way longer post than this... but in between classes this is all I got.

Wed, 07 Jan 2009 17:59:25 GMT

Win.

Which Torchwood Character Are You? Your Result: Captain Jack Harkness You most resemble the team's outrageous, mysterious leader. Cheeky, sexy, and charming, people are drawn to your charisma, but at the same time you tend to keep your relationships superficial. You aren't afraid of your emotions and tend to just let them out, but you are afraid of truly connecting with those around you.
Owen Harper
Gwen Cooper
Toshiko Sato
Ianto Jones
Which Torchwood Character Are You? Quiz Created on GoToQuiz

This is Everything That's Wrong with American Cinema and Literature

Sat, 06 Dec 2008 21:39:57 GMT

I'm slowly dying. A paper due on Tuesday, one on Thursday, and then two exams on the 16th that I HAVE to get A's on or else I may feasibly get lower than a C and have to re-take a course which means I'll be here for another semester that I don't have money for and... Gah.

I'm not going to think about that now. Instead, I'm going to tell you a story.

Patrick and Matt both insisted that everyone go see a movie with them. I, of course, outright refused to see this particular movie, because I think the books are terrible in every way a book can be terrible, and the movie looked just as terrible, if not more so.

But then Patrick bought me a fifth of vodka, and Matt bought my ticket. So I ended up going. I considered it was a fair trade. And it was a good move to pump me full of alcohol before we went. I straight out told Patrick that I needed to be WASTED in order to see the damn thing, or else we'd get kicked out in the first ten minutes. Turns out, I had enough trouble restraining myself even then.

We packed up a couple vans full of homosexuals, and we went to see Twilight.

Quite honestly, we all found it wonderfully amusing and actually enjoyed the experience. If you're a fan of Twilight, you probably found it amusing and enjoyed the experience as well. The difference is that our amusement stems from two completely different places.

Like that sign I saw on the highway advertising a church- It had a photo of a cross, and carved into it was the phrase "Who's Your Daddy?" A Christian would find that sign amusing because they'd think, "Awww, isn't that NICE, using hip slang and American vernacular to get the youth excited about celebrating Jesus Christ?" and I found it amusing because I thought, "That is the most trashy, poorly thought out, RIDICULOUS fucking thing I've seen in my entire life. It alternately makes me want to laugh hysterically and punch someone."

Needless to say, if you're a fan of Twilight, I wouldn't read what's under the cut, because it'll probably just offend you. If you're a fan of Twilight and you STILL read under the cut and try to argue in the comments against me about why it's actually a good story, my respect for you will go down 30-50 percent. You have been warned.

When we first got there, I was sadly only a little tipsy. Patrick and I went to buy a giant tub of buttery popcorn while the rest of the gang found us seats. While I was doing so, a group of probably 20 middle school students walks up to the counter and all of them buy tickets to the same showing we're going to. Patrick starts to whimper in dismay. I shovel a handful of popcorn in my mouth and mutter, "It's going to be a fucking massacre." Patrick laughs nervously.

We get into the theatre and find it to be fairly crowded. Kolby is cackling maniacally already. Matt asks how I'm handling the prospect of watching the movie so far. I tell him to reach into my jacket pocket.

"That's not an erection," Matt says before practically falling over laughing.

It was, in fact, a 20 ounce of coke that was more than half filled with pomegranate vodka. I had decided I was in this for the long haul.

The lights go down and there's a short altercation when it's revealed that Patrick and Matt have already seen the movie, but made us all go anyway.

"Are you KIDDING me?!" Bobby shrieks. "You saw this damn thing already and you STILL made us come!?"

Everyone calms down when Bella's poorly acted, prophetic voice filters through the speakers while a deer flits through the forest, running from a human form.

"Christ," I mutter exasperatedly. I lost count of how many times I did this throughout the movie.

Luckily, the whole row in front of us was full of people who seemed to be there for the same reason we were. They started giggling at the ridiculousness almost immediately.

We tried to contain ourselves. We really did. But by the time Billy the Handicapped Native American rolls himself on screen, I can't take it anymore.

"Enter Racial Stereotype Number 1," I say. Jacob, Billy's supposedly Native American son makes an appearance.

"That actor's not even Native American," Bobby says to my right. "He's Latino." Matt, who is 3/4 Native American himself, makes a strangled, offended sound.

The evening rapidly goes downhill from there. Gloves are off. I begin sipping from my "coke" bottle desperately.

Bella is so beautiful that EVERYONE in school immediately loves her. They even want to do a feature in the newspaper about her, and all the boys want to bone her. Big-boobed bimbo and disaffected ethnic hottie become her new best friends. There's an emo Asian boy and a jock who's waaaaaay too pretty and skinny to play any type of sport.

Patrick mutters, "Oh, this is gonna be bad," right before Bella walks into the biology lab. Her hair gets blown dramatically, in slow motion, by some fan behind her. Edward promptly startles like a deer in headlights, then grimaces and puts a hand over his mouth and acts like he's going to throw up. Everyone in our row and the row in front of us starts laughing. Kolby does his little hiccup "Ha...a-ha...HAHAHAHA!" laugh he does when he's trying really hard to stay quiet.

The other people in the audience start to glare at us.

When Bella gets saved from almost certain death (darn it) by Edward, she starts to suspect something is up. I wonder why no one did before when Edward's foster father, Carlisle, is introduced, because Edward and him look to be exactly the same age. No one in the movie seems to think this is weird and/or creepy.

So Bella starts doing some research, like any sadly misunderstood teenager does when faced with a problem (right? RIGHT??!) and finds out that she has to go get this book on local myths after Latino kid rapes Native American culture and uses a characature of it as a tenuous plot device to point Bella in the right direction. On her way back from the bookstore, she walks at night down the ONE shady looking alley in the ENTIRE 3000 population town and runs into some hooligans.

Every one of these guys is carrying a six-pack of beer around with them, because THANK YOU, prop department, we needed the VISUAL AID to tell us they were drunk because the poorly acted slurring and stumbling didn't spell it out for us. I would have been more impressed by the allusions to their bad-assery if they'd been openly carrying around heroin needles and knives. As Matt said later, it was like a play put on by a church youth group to illustrate the evils of alcohol. Which makes sense, because it was written by a cloistered Mormon bitch who has no ACTUAL real life experience, and instead uses stereotypes from television to inform her writing. What the hell.

At this point, our laughing and whispered comments are getting quite a few shush's and "shut-up"s. We ignore it of course. I think Bobby was just waiting for them to try to kick us out, because he would have ripped into them with a hurricane of legalese about, "We paid for our tickets like everyone else, we can LAUGH if we want to, and if you kick us out it must be because we're GAY and this girl is a hot mess. *points to me* If you would like a LAW SUIT on your hands, I suggest you continue." I kind of wished it had happened that way. It would have been awesome.

Edward zooms up in a nice car to save Bella from her dreadful fate, and she doesn't even find the fact that he was STALKING her scary at all and just gets into the car, then goes out to dinner with him. They stop really quickly to tell Bella's friends who she was shopping with that she's still alive, and Edward says he'll take her home to which big-boobed bimbo says," That's thoughtful," ethnic smartie girl says, "That's so thoughtful," Kolby says, "Yeah, SUPER thoughtful," in a really gay voice.

At dinner, Edward reveals he can read everyone's mind but he can't read hers, because she's so MYSTERIOUS and SPECIAL and AMAZING. I resist the urge to bang my head repeatedly against the chair in front of me.

Bella's dad and her go to a diner the next day where he, as the sheriff of the town, openly divulges information about an ongoing murder investigation. I make indignant whispered comments about how this is unprofessional and he would get fired IMMEDIATELY. Bobby points out the fat, pasty girl in the diner who looks like she could be Bella minus a few pounds and less-saggy, uncentered eyes. Apparently it's Stephanie Meyer.

Bella is the Mary Sue of the century. I think Stephanie really out-did herself. Well, I guess that's what the point of a Mary Sue is, in the first place, anyway.

Bella, by this point, has FINALLY figured out that omg, Edward is a vampire. She leads him into the woods to confront him about it. He goes into the whole emo, "This is why I can't be with you, I'm a monster *tear*" cliche speech of stupidity. Everyone groans. Then he flips her on his back to take her up the mountain into the sunlight where he can reveal his true self.

He steps into the sunlight and starts to glitter like a club-boy covered in body jewels. "This is what I really am," he says sorrowfully.

"Jesus, you're a faggot?!" Kolby asks. Everyone in our two rows starts laughing uproariously. A few more people tell us to shut up.

After an emotional speech, Bella and Edward have the scene of STUPIDITY (this is the big one, folks!), where they lay in a field of flowers in slow-mo and gaze longingly into each others' eyes. Personally, I think it looks like Edward's somewhere between constipated and smelling something bad, but that seems to be his default setting. We're all laughing at how ridiculous this moment is when someone shouts, "It's NOT FUNNY!"

"Yes it IS!" I shout back. She doesn't respond because she's probably a 15 year old whiner.

Afterwards, Edward is explaining to Bella what it's like to be a vampire, and how you're never fully satisfied, like a "vegetarian living off of tofu."

"I LOVE tofu!" Kolby says, affronted.

Edward takes Bella home to meet his family. The only good part in this scene is when fierce blonde bitch breaks a salad bowl and steps on the glass with studded rhinestone pumps. All the gays mutter variations on, "Fabulous," under their breaths.

When Edward gives Bella the tour of his room, Bella says, "You don't have a bed?" Edward replies that he doesn't because he doesn't need to sleep.

"Awww!" Kolby moans. "But we were going to have SEX on it!" A girl in the row in front of us helpfully points out that they can always use the couch.

Bella goes to see what's playing in Edward's stereo. It turns out to be Clair de Lune.

"That's one of the song douche-bags list as their favorite when they want to sound cultured," I say to Bobby. "Like when people list the Great Gatsby as one of their favorite novels on facebook."

Then Edward puts Bella on his back again, says, "Hold on tight, spider monkey," (WTF) and takes her to the top of a giant douglas fir. "This is UNREAL!" Bella says, amazed.

"It's a fucking TREE!" I say. "Jesus, you're easily impressed."

The next night, Edward shows up in Bella's room while she's talking to her mom on the phone. For some reason, crazy teenage girls everywhere seem to find this romantic instead of breaking and entering. Edward says he's been doing this for two months.

"I like watching you sleep," Edward says. "I find it...fascinating."

"I find it CREEPY," I say.

Later on, Bella's dad is down in the kitchen cleaning a shot gun while he's drinking beer.

"That's a REALLY good idea to do that while you're drinking!" Kolby says.

At this point, I was pretty pickled, so I zoned out for a while and took a trip to the bathroom. When I got back, the movie was nearly over.

Bella almost gets killed by an evil vampire. He poisons her with a bite before Edward and the others get there to save her. The only way to stop the venom is to suck it out, and all the stupid MORONS think it's a good idea to have Edward (the only one who can barely resist Bella's tasty, tasty blood) to try to do it. Commence yet another superfluously emo scene.

When Bella comes to, she's in the hospital. Her mother tells her that Edward and the others brought her in. The cover story is that she fell down a flight of stairs and into a glass window. SERIOUSLY? A group of old, wise, supposedly intelligent immortals couldn't come up with a better explanation than one that's used by abusive husbands? And why the hell would anyone believe it? Reality does not impinge upon the world of Twilight, it seems.

Edward then tells Bella that he has to leave her because he'll only end up hurting her. Bella ends that completely healthy, good idea by babbling, "But, I, it, and the thing, and you can't, it was, there were, no NO, just NO!" in a completely contrived manner.

"Oscar moment!" Kolby asserts, then leans over and tells me the movie should have been finished two minutes ago. We sigh sadly.

Edward takes Bella to her prom while she's wearing a cast and a bad dress. She tells him while they're dancing on the romantically lit gazebo that she wants him to turn her because she is SO DONE with living.

"Sweetie," Kolby says, "that's just high school."

And FINALLY, after evil dead-wolf wearing vampire has a dramatic moment, the movie is over.

As we're leaving we notice people going to complain to management AFTER THE FACT (have some balls, seriously). I realize we were kind of jerks, but anyone who goes to Twilight because they seriously like it has it coming. I'm allowed to laugh in a public movie-theatre, thank you. If I want to laugh at a stupid moment that's trying to be serious, that's my prerogative.

It was a really ridiculous night, a terrible movie, but it was funny as hell, and I got drunk. I'm not sure if it was a win or a fail.

General List of the Stupid Things About Twilight
1. Bella is the biggest Mary Sue in the world who reinforces negative social standards. Let's keep women out of the workplace, marry them off right out of high school, and teach them that the greatest goal in life is to find a man who will claim you as a possession, because honestly, as a girl you have no worth on your own.
2. Edward is a whiney emo bitch who is also creepy and a stalker. Why does he get so much play? It worries me that for young girls all over the nation, HE is the embodiment of the ideal.
3. All of the characters (and I mean ALL) are completely one-dimensional.
4. The social and ethnic stereotypes are disgusting and badly done. I mean, the big-boobed bimbo gets with the jock, the ethnic smartie pants gets with the OTHER ethnic smartie pants, the Native Americans are played by Latinos, it's implied that when a man gets drunk he is incapable of NOT RAPING someone... need I go on?
5. The dialogue is poorly written and unrealistic.
6. The plot is cliche and tenuous at best.

Honestly, there are NO GOOD THINGS about this movie besides how it's so over-the-top that you can at least laugh at it. But the fact that it's taken SERIOUSLY by the majority...*sigh*

After I'm done laughing, I think I'll cry for a while.