Dear Facebook,
The predominant reason why I frequent this site so often is due to the fact that I use two of the games: Castle Age and the Supernatural game. Now, part of the experience of these games is to interact with others, specifically in the giving of so-called "gifts," or items that can be shared with others in your "party," as well as invites to join other games.
In the past, you would alert me when I had one of these "gifts" by having a link appear in the right-hand margin of the main page, which was cool because my eyes naturally go to the right when looking for info and updates. That's where all the updates are, like birthdays and upcoming events. I could click it and it would bring me to a secondary page that allowed me to accept or reject my requests.
However, these days, whenever I look at the right-hand margin and click the link, you telll me that the game requests location has "changed" and that it is on the left-hand side, in the applet docking port. You have a "handy" pop-up quotation box telling me that it has moved there and that I need to click that button instead.
So Facebook, I ask you: If you decided to change the location of the request updates, why the HELL have you kept it on the right-hand margin as well? What is the point of this? Is it to tease me? To taunt me and make me do more work in order to see whether or not I need to rage in fury at yet ANOTHER invite to Farmville or Fishville or what-the-hell-else you have on here these days?
This is how I view you, Facebook:
You are the equivalent of a small child walking around his neighborhood. He looks around, smiling, because he's a happy kid.
Unfortunately, this kid is also fucking EVIL.
He makes his way throughout the neighborhood looking for victims. In one hand, he has a magnifying glass; in the other, he holds a sharpened stick. Everywhere he goes, the other children flee, crying for their mommies because they don't want to interact with this Satanic spawn of chaos and fuckery. Unfortunately for one child, today is not his lucky day.
The evil child sights his victim sitting in a sandbox, minding himself, and the evil child grins a wicked grin. You can see his teeth are yellow, rotted from the consumption of too much candy and soda in his short years. He stalks towards the intended victim, muddy, untied shoes making a squishing sound as he walks. Suddenly, the child looks around. Fear explodes in his eyes, but he has nowhere to go. He's stuck in the sandbox, unable to flee because the evil child is suddenly upon him. He's been sighted and deep in his heart of hearts, he knows he is fucked.
But for a moment, the evil child's evil grin fades and is replaced with a legitimate smile. He digs into his pocket and pulls out a piece of candy, offering it to the frightened boy. The boy, naive and trusting, reaches to take it. As soon as his hand comes within reach, the evil child's grin becomes wicked again and he stabs the kid with his sharpened stick. The kid, now injured, begins to cry and the wicked child is once again victorious over another.
This is how I see you, Facebook. You're a tease, evil and corrupt to your core. And this app thing? That's just the start.
I have more to say to you, but I'm still so thoroughly disgusted with this that I cannot write anymore. Expect another letter in the future.
Sincerely,
-Cat
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Friday, July 16, 2010
Recap, Review, and Rant: Inception
In this day and age, unless you've been living under a rock that happens to be in a safe room which is located in an underground cavern, you've heard of director Christopher Nolan, aka the director of the new Batman franchise. And unless you're a so-called "rebel," "social outcast," "indie fucker" what the hell ever, you've seen these movies and rather enjoyed them because, well, they're fucking awesome. But they're action flicks and superhero movies, so they rarely get any "artistic" vision attached to them and will never necessarily win a "Best Picture" award.
Luckily, Inception is not an action nor a superhero flick.
Tonight, I went to see the midnight showing of this movie and it's safe to say that I was hesitantly excited. I've enjoyed what Nolan has done with the Batman movies so far; they've been truly wonderful films. However, as much as I wanted to love this movie before I'd even seen it, I didn't want to get my hopes up too far because I knew if I did, the movie would suck. But I still couldn't really help myself. I was excited and wary and confused all at the same time.
Hours before seeing the movie, I sat my boyfriend down and we went through the cast list, attaching character names to the faces of the actors who would be playing them and reading the brief summary located at imdb.com so we wouldn't get lost. I find that doing a bit of research prior to seeing the movie, namely just looking up what the basic plot is and what the name of the main character(s) are helps a great deal. I've not done this for some movies and wound up feeling entirely lost.
That being said, I don't know if it was exactly necessary for this movie. It has a bit of an Ocean's Eleven vibe to it in that they name the character before/during the character's first appearance, rather than making you Whiskey-Tango-Foxtrot throughout the movie and not knowing who they're talking about an hour in during what is supposed to be an Important Scene. A good rule of thumb, future directors/writers out there? DON'T MAKE YOUR AUDIENCE HAVE TO JUMP THROUGH HOOPS TO REMEMBER WHO IS WHO. Say the character's name early and relatively often so we don't end up forgetting, else I'll probably just get pissed at you about halfway through and want to chuck you off a tall building while simultaneously stabbing you repeatedly in the eye, ear and appendix.
Seriously, don't do it.
From the previews and movie stills, I knew this movie was going to be pretty to look at. And going in, I knew that it had to be, because of what it was.
For those that don't know, this movie is about a man who is hired to plant an idea into the subconscious of another man via entering his dreamscape and convincing him that it was his idea in the first place. His motivations to do this are because he wants to get home, though why he can't do so without planting the idea (also called "inception" - oh, now the title makes sense, eh?) is another story entirely. I'm not telling you because that would just ruin the experience.
So going in, I knew this movie had to get a few things right in order for it to meet my expectations:
One of the key things that I enjoyed about this movie is the overall theme/message that it presents, but we only become aware of it in the final few moments of the film. Having said that...
Luckily, Inception is not an action nor a superhero flick.
Tonight, I went to see the midnight showing of this movie and it's safe to say that I was hesitantly excited. I've enjoyed what Nolan has done with the Batman movies so far; they've been truly wonderful films. However, as much as I wanted to love this movie before I'd even seen it, I didn't want to get my hopes up too far because I knew if I did, the movie would suck. But I still couldn't really help myself. I was excited and wary and confused all at the same time.
Hours before seeing the movie, I sat my boyfriend down and we went through the cast list, attaching character names to the faces of the actors who would be playing them and reading the brief summary located at imdb.com so we wouldn't get lost. I find that doing a bit of research prior to seeing the movie, namely just looking up what the basic plot is and what the name of the main character(s) are helps a great deal. I've not done this for some movies and wound up feeling entirely lost.
That being said, I don't know if it was exactly necessary for this movie. It has a bit of an Ocean's Eleven vibe to it in that they name the character before/during the character's first appearance, rather than making you Whiskey-Tango-Foxtrot throughout the movie and not knowing who they're talking about an hour in during what is supposed to be an Important Scene. A good rule of thumb, future directors/writers out there? DON'T MAKE YOUR AUDIENCE HAVE TO JUMP THROUGH HOOPS TO REMEMBER WHO IS WHO. Say the character's name early and relatively often so we don't end up forgetting, else I'll probably just get pissed at you about halfway through and want to chuck you off a tall building while simultaneously stabbing you repeatedly in the eye, ear and appendix.
Seriously, don't do it.
From the previews and movie stills, I knew this movie was going to be pretty to look at. And going in, I knew that it had to be, because of what it was.
For those that don't know, this movie is about a man who is hired to plant an idea into the subconscious of another man via entering his dreamscape and convincing him that it was his idea in the first place. His motivations to do this are because he wants to get home, though why he can't do so without planting the idea (also called "inception" - oh, now the title makes sense, eh?) is another story entirely. I'm not telling you because that would just ruin the experience.
So going in, I knew this movie had to get a few things right in order for it to meet my expectations:
- It had to be pretty. Since the majority of the movie takes place in a dreamworld, the film's graphical conception of this dreamworld had to be gorgeous and, well, perfect. Dreams are not like reality: Reality has minute detail, unpredictability, it's gritty and dirty and all that good stuff. The dreamworld of this movie had to be perfect, detailed enough for us to believe it as a real place, but also allow for the dreamer, and thereby the audience, to fill in the details. After all, that's what we do while in our dreams.
- The acting had to be way above par. This is true for any movie, but seeing as how this is a movie by Christopher Nolan, the audience is going to have higher expectations, especially after seeing Heath Ledger's perfection as The Joker in The Dark Knight. Great acting is created via the actor and the director and their relationship and ability to co-actively create an experience for the audience to believe that the person on their screen is a real individual. With a cast like this:
- Leonardo DiCaprio* - Dom Cobb, the male lead
- Cillian Murphy - Robert Fischer, Jr., the antagonist (though this is debatable)
- Michael Caine - Miles, grandfather to Cobb's children
- Ellen Page - Ariadne, the female lead
- Joseph Gordon-Levitt - Arthur, the "sidekick"
- Ken Wantanbe - Saito, the instigator (and also arguably an antagonist, but his role serves a larger purpose than that)
*Note: Don't give me any crap about DiCaprio because he's come a long way since Titanic. He was excellent in Catch Me If You Can, The Departed, Gangs of New York and while he still has a way to go, he's been making excellent strides with every role he takes. I will seriously fight you tooth-and-nail for this if you really want to push it.
**Note: I was really excited to see Page take a role outside of what I think she's begun to become comfortable in, namely "an independent outsider rebel who marches to the beat of her own drum and in the end everyone loves her for it." This role was nothing like that and I think that by choosing to take this role, it showed a bit more depth to her acting ability. It was a good choice and one that I really enjoyed seeing her do. - Leonardo DiCaprio* - Dom Cobb, the male lead
- The script itself had to consist of enough twists and turns to make it exciting and thrilling. After all, this is supposed to represent a dreamworld the majority of the time which doesn't exactly have a direct line between point A and point B. It has to be a maze for the audience, as well as the characters.
- Good. Action. Sequences.
Nolan has become known for his action flicks and that's not necessarily a bad thing, as he does them well. A good action sequence is hard to direct because you not only have to keep your actors safe and out of harm, you also have to make sure that it appears dangerous enough for the audience to really fear for the characters, as well as be something new.
One of the key things that I enjoyed about this movie is the overall theme/message that it presents, but we only become aware of it in the final few moments of the film. Having said that...
Disclaimer: For those of you who have not yet seen the movie, below this point may be spoilers. DON'T BITCH AT ME IF YOU READ BELOW BECAUSE I WENT OUT OF MY WAY TO WARN YOU, DAMMIT. Scroll down until the break to avoid spoilers and keep reading.
Toward the middle of the film, we are shown the idea of a "token," or a small, physical item that holds enough weight, both physically and emotionally, to the bearer for them to be able to differentiate between what is real and what is dream. For Cobb, it is a small metal top that originally belonged to his wife, as her token. He tells Ariadne that whenever she spun it in the dream, it would never topple over, so she would know reality by the fact that it would spin and then fall as gravity would eventually take hold.
Now, in the final scene, we are show Cobb returning home to his family. In these final moments, he has a bit of a freak-out, trying to make sure that this is all real and not still a dream. He knows that it can be quite difficult to determine dream from reality and as such removes the top from his pocket and places it on the kitchen table, giving it a flick and watching it spin. A moment later, his children come running to see him and he turns his back on the top, delighted to see the two small kids that he has been missing since his wife died. We are shown a few moments of him with his children before they fade to the background and the camera pans down to the top, still spinning on the table.
It was at this point that I felt, and heard, the entire audience in the theatre take a collective breath and hold it, watching this simple metal top spinning on the kitchen table. It does so for awhile, spinning quite fast and after a few seconds begins to slow down before...
...Cut to black. We never see the top fall over and it is at this point that the entire audience nearly had an aneurysm because of what those final seconds mean: We have no idea if Dom Cobb is back into a reality or if he is still in a dreamworld.
It was also at this point that I realize one of the underlying themes, and thereby the message, of the movie. How can one determine reality from fiction? Is it even possible to do so? Thinking about it now, I have to laugh because Nolan approached this same idea in another film, The Prestige. And then I have to laugh again because we're watching a movie. Sometimes, a movie is so real to us, either emotionally or graphically that we can't help but stare in awe and wonder about our own existence. Are we real? Am I real? How do I know? Can I know? It's a mind-blowing concept and one that Nolan has managed to taunt us with yet again. I have distinct memories of being frazzled and provoked into thinking of these concepts after having seen The Prestige. And while I have yet to see Momento, also directed by Nolan, I'm fairly certain that the same idea(s) are there, too.
Now, in the final scene, we are show Cobb returning home to his family. In these final moments, he has a bit of a freak-out, trying to make sure that this is all real and not still a dream. He knows that it can be quite difficult to determine dream from reality and as such removes the top from his pocket and places it on the kitchen table, giving it a flick and watching it spin. A moment later, his children come running to see him and he turns his back on the top, delighted to see the two small kids that he has been missing since his wife died. We are shown a few moments of him with his children before they fade to the background and the camera pans down to the top, still spinning on the table.
It was at this point that I felt, and heard, the entire audience in the theatre take a collective breath and hold it, watching this simple metal top spinning on the kitchen table. It does so for awhile, spinning quite fast and after a few seconds begins to slow down before...
...Cut to black. We never see the top fall over and it is at this point that the entire audience nearly had an aneurysm because of what those final seconds mean: We have no idea if Dom Cobb is back into a reality or if he is still in a dreamworld.
It was also at this point that I realize one of the underlying themes, and thereby the message, of the movie. How can one determine reality from fiction? Is it even possible to do so? Thinking about it now, I have to laugh because Nolan approached this same idea in another film, The Prestige. And then I have to laugh again because we're watching a movie. Sometimes, a movie is so real to us, either emotionally or graphically that we can't help but stare in awe and wonder about our own existence. Are we real? Am I real? How do I know? Can I know? It's a mind-blowing concept and one that Nolan has managed to taunt us with yet again. I have distinct memories of being frazzled and provoked into thinking of these concepts after having seen The Prestige. And while I have yet to see Momento, also directed by Nolan, I'm fairly certain that the same idea(s) are there, too.
_______________________________________
YAY YOU'RE BACK.
YAY YOU'RE BACK.
The thing I like about this movie is that it really made me think about what constitutes my reality and how do I determine it from fiction. It also managed to do something that I'm really pleased and somewhat proud of Nolan for doing, and that is showing our modern audiences that you don't need 3-D technology to make a beautiful movie these days. Even if you just look at some of the stills from this film, you'll know what I'm talking about, but I'd highly encourage you to go and see it for yourself. Even if you're not a DiCaprio fan, even if you think it's supposed to be an action film, which it's not, even if you believe that anything Nolan does is annoying or cliche or whatever. If anything, go and see it for the beauty it shows you because that alone is pretty spectacular.
Oh, and the fight scene in the revolving hallway is also 100% totally worth seeing it on the big screen.
Oh, and the fight scene in the revolving hallway is also 100% totally worth seeing it on the big screen.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Where Have All...
...the good shows gone?
Tonight I just finished watching ABC's Happy Town. It promised to be quite the ride, which I was looking forward to, considering most of television shows are essentially the same, tired formulae they have been for the past decade or so. Most shows nowadays are sitcoms, crime and/or medical dramas or just plain bad. There are times, though, that a show emerges from the basic crap that most networks put out there and is actually rather good, intriguing, exciting, involving and/or unique. Sometimes, you even get all of the above.
Now, Happy Town was a fairly good show, if you approach it as it is. If you go into it expecting everything to be handed to you like most shows are, spoonfeeding its audience the answers, clues and laughs - I'm looking at you, clichéd laughtrack - then you're going to be sorely disappointed.
The premise for this show is that years ago, a someone arrived in a small town called Haplin, nicknamed "Happy Town" by its residents, and began kidnapping people without leaving a trace of where they were. About seven people were taken and then the kidnappings suddenly stopped. This man was nicknamed "the Magic Man" because he had the uncanny ability of making all these people disappear entirely, as if by magic. Along with this main narrative, you are presented with various other, smaller storyline, such as a murder, some teenage romance, the unexpected arrival of a woman from out of town and about a dozen others that I can't think of right now. Essentially what this boils down to is a whole like of questions and not a whole lot of answers, even by the end of the season.
Excuse me, series finale since ABC decided to fucking cancel the show.
So, I'm sitting here, staring in shock at my screen at the fact that they just revealed the identity of the Magic Man, but since there are no more shows, we're not told
a) how he did it
b) why he did it
c) how he chose his victims
d) ABOUT EVERYTHING FUCKING ELSE.
What's with the movie The Blue Door and why does it keep popping up? Why did Peggy Haplin do what she did and why did the Sherriff GO INTO A SELF-HARMING FUCKING RAGE AND CUT OFF HIS OWN DAMNED HAND? How does he know about Chloe? Why does Henley have that tattoo? Why is Henley there? Is she related to ________ ? And, of course, most importantly...
WHAT THE FUCK?
This is like Harper's Island all over again, only in a much crueler way. See, Harper's Island was another show that presented itself in a mystery format, only they wanted to involve the audience in determining who the killer was. Of course, the plot was defined the entire time, the parameters set and the audience should have been well set-up in determining who the killer was.
Then, they apparently decided while writing to fuck the rules that they had been bashing about our heads the entire time, uncap our heads and fuck our brains with a blender.
Seriously? Two killers, one of whom was described as, quite firmly, being dead since the Pilot? I knew the other one from episode three, but come on! Follow your own damned rules or don't fucking play. Seriously. If you're going to have a show like that, don't rabbit punch your audience and then dance around them laughing because they didn't see it coming, only to be surprised as to why the fuck they're pissed off at you.
It's. Not. Fucking. Funny.
All in all, I guess you could say that I'm a bit pissed off at all the television networks right now. They've canceled Heroes, FlashForward, Eastwick and a bunch of other shows that I liked, leaving me with a bunch of questions and no hopes for any answers. It's like the entire television industry decided that it doesn't really need the audience anyway because as long as it has pretty colours, pretty actors and a few funny bits, the general public will gobble it up with a spoon.
And the sad bit is:
THEY'RE RIGHT.
Tonight I just finished watching ABC's Happy Town. It promised to be quite the ride, which I was looking forward to, considering most of television shows are essentially the same, tired formulae they have been for the past decade or so. Most shows nowadays are sitcoms, crime and/or medical dramas or just plain bad. There are times, though, that a show emerges from the basic crap that most networks put out there and is actually rather good, intriguing, exciting, involving and/or unique. Sometimes, you even get all of the above.
Now, Happy Town was a fairly good show, if you approach it as it is. If you go into it expecting everything to be handed to you like most shows are, spoonfeeding its audience the answers, clues and laughs - I'm looking at you, clichéd laughtrack - then you're going to be sorely disappointed.
The premise for this show is that years ago, a someone arrived in a small town called Haplin, nicknamed "Happy Town" by its residents, and began kidnapping people without leaving a trace of where they were. About seven people were taken and then the kidnappings suddenly stopped. This man was nicknamed "the Magic Man" because he had the uncanny ability of making all these people disappear entirely, as if by magic. Along with this main narrative, you are presented with various other, smaller storyline, such as a murder, some teenage romance, the unexpected arrival of a woman from out of town and about a dozen others that I can't think of right now. Essentially what this boils down to is a whole like of questions and not a whole lot of answers, even by the end of the season.
Excuse me, series finale since ABC decided to fucking cancel the show.
So, I'm sitting here, staring in shock at my screen at the fact that they just revealed the identity of the Magic Man, but since there are no more shows, we're not told
a) how he did it
b) why he did it
c) how he chose his victims
d) ABOUT EVERYTHING FUCKING ELSE.
What's with the movie The Blue Door and why does it keep popping up? Why did Peggy Haplin do what she did and why did the Sherriff GO INTO A SELF-HARMING FUCKING RAGE AND CUT OFF HIS OWN DAMNED HAND? How does he know about Chloe? Why does Henley have that tattoo? Why is Henley there? Is she related to ________ ? And, of course, most importantly...
WHAT THE FUCK?
This is like Harper's Island all over again, only in a much crueler way. See, Harper's Island was another show that presented itself in a mystery format, only they wanted to involve the audience in determining who the killer was. Of course, the plot was defined the entire time, the parameters set and the audience should have been well set-up in determining who the killer was.
Then, they apparently decided while writing to fuck the rules that they had been bashing about our heads the entire time, uncap our heads and fuck our brains with a blender.
Seriously? Two killers, one of whom was described as, quite firmly, being dead since the Pilot? I knew the other one from episode three, but come on! Follow your own damned rules or don't fucking play. Seriously. If you're going to have a show like that, don't rabbit punch your audience and then dance around them laughing because they didn't see it coming, only to be surprised as to why the fuck they're pissed off at you.
It's. Not. Fucking. Funny.
All in all, I guess you could say that I'm a bit pissed off at all the television networks right now. They've canceled Heroes, FlashForward, Eastwick and a bunch of other shows that I liked, leaving me with a bunch of questions and no hopes for any answers. It's like the entire television industry decided that it doesn't really need the audience anyway because as long as it has pretty colours, pretty actors and a few funny bits, the general public will gobble it up with a spoon.
And the sad bit is:
THEY'RE RIGHT.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Recap, Review, and Rant: Twilight Eclipse
Tonight was opening night for the latest movie chapter in the self-proclaimed "Twilight Saga," Eclipse. Like many other people in the world, I attended the midnight showing. Some of you are probably wondering why the hell I would do such a thing, considering most of you reading this have some indication of my feelings towards the series. There are a few reasons, and here they are:
1) I have a bit of a bet with myself. I went and saw the first movie at the midnight showing with a few friends, knowing that it would be quite an entertaining night, then did the same with New Moon, going to see it in order to cheer up a friend who had had a bad day. After all, the movies are great...if you approach them as a comedy. So now, it's decided that I will attend every one of these movies at the midnight showing. Since there's only two more, I don't foresee much of a problem.
2) If I go, and bring at least one other person with me, that means that at least two fans of the series will be unable to attend because I'm sitting, nice and smug, in the seat that they so desperately want to be in. Knowing that gives me a sense of delighted glee. Yes, I'm sadistic, cruel, yadda yadda yadda. It's amusing to me.
3) I talk during movies. Like, a lot and quite often. Usually, I mock the characters and the plot and anything else I can think of. Since I'm not a fan of the series, doing so makes it less enjoyable for the rest of the people near me. Since most of those people are actually fans of the series, I get to make their night less than perfect. This, too, gives me a sense of pure delight, not unlike how I imagine swallowing a cute, happy kitten whole might be.
...What? You know you think about it sometimes.
4) ...There actually was a four, but I can't think of it anymore, and I figured that only having a list of three reasons might be a little pretentious, and kind've convenient, I suppose.
Now that that's out of the way, here's the part you're actually interested in! The recap, review and rant.
I'd been trying to convince my boyfriend to come with me to see the movie, but it was a bit of a risk considering it premiered in the middle of the week and he has work. Finally, though, he agreed and bought the tickets yesterday. We got dinner and headed to the theatre about two hours before the show was set to start.
Now, Kerasotes was the theatre that was originally there, but it was recently bought by AMC and converted to their lovely format. We spent $20 on just the fucking tickets alone, and concessions were $18. Seriously, what the fuck. Kerasotes was way better. Plus, they got rid of House of the Dead 2 in the arcade.
WHO DOES THAT?!
So now, irritated due to ticket prices, though still blissfully unaware of how much popcorn and soda is going to cost, we tried to figure out what to do for the next two hours. It was then that we saw the line.
Now, the theatre we go to is a moderately large size theatre. They have sixteen screens, so you can imagine how big this place is.
The hallways were packed on both sides with tweens, teens and Twilight moms waiting to get in. We stared at the lines then each other and slowly picked our way over to the line for our theatre, shocked by the sheer amount of estrogen in the air. But it wasn't that which was the most frightening...
I suppose it was when I saw the girl carrying the life-sized cutout of Jacob in one hand and her...male co-attendant that I realized we weren't in Kansas, aka the land of fucking sanity, anymore. The previous two opening nights had been relatively calm and easy, maybe even a bit boring. But this was just...somewhat madness.
Finally, we find our line and get to the end of it, lean against the wall and start chatting a bit. By now, Brian, aka The Boyfriend, is getting a little freaked out. I had told him it was going to be fun, the movie would be hilarious and we'd be fine.
Then the Four Girls showed up.
There were two behind us who were chatting it up, talking about omgeddiekinslolololiluvyouhavemysparklebabies for a bit, but that was nothing compared to these girls. They couldn't have been more than fifteen, wearing black t-shirts and jeans that could only legally be counted as panties, rather than anything resembling shorts. Seriously, my co-females, if your leg coverings, whatever they are, are not above two inches longer than your underwear...
YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG.
Anyway, these girls, these tweens who are obviously SUPERHARDCORELOLOMG fans of the books, come over and demand to know if the girls behind us are Team Edward or Team Jacob. I can hear a little pause behind me before they finally say "Team Edward."
It was at that point that I think my ear decided to kill itself. Never in my life have I heard four girls scream "EW!" louder at two simple words than I did just then. Thankfully, they left just after that and I was allowed to recover what semi-masochistic bit of ear drum I had left in my right ear. But seriously, these girls were wandering around the theatre the whole time demanding to know which "Team" everyone was on. If it was Edward, they did the "EW!" thing, and if it was Jacob, they would get all happy, giggly and sparkle a bit.
Honestly, I don't know why these girls hated Edward so much, since they were clearly just as airheaded as he was and were wearing enough make-up that they themselves glittered in the light. Really, you'd think they'd be able to find a connection in that alone.
Thankfully, most of the rest of our time in line was relatively quiet and uneventful, except when The Four Girls came back, demanding to know what team the ushers were on. I think the best part of my night was when one of the ushers told them he was on Team Van Hellsing and the girls got that empty headed look that you can literally hear the hamster starting to pant in order to make the gears in their brains turn. Of course, the hamster must have decided that life was no longer worth living and thrown itself into whatever semi-working machinery was still left in these girls' heads as they clearly did not understand what he was talking about. Then they left, and all was grand again!
Finally, at about 11:30, we were allowed to actually enter the theatre that we would be enduring the next few hours of crazed teenage fangirls and their sad, lonely, rather frighteningly obsessed fan-moms, also known as the "Twilight Moms." Seriously, these women are frightening because not only are they fans of these stupid books, but they are also a) able to drive, b) have endured childbirth so are able to withstand large amounts of pain without batting an eye, c) these women have the time and money to buy whatever weaponry they so desire in order to achieve their desires and d) likely no longer have the same sex life they did as young adults, since men tend to hit their sexual peak at around, oh, twenty and women hit it at about the age most of these Twilight Moms are.
Also, most of them have likely thought about killing their own children, so they could probably get away with killing you, stashing your body in their mini-van and finding the closest soccer field to bury your mutilated body in.
These women scare me. I will have nightmares for forever. For-eh-ver. For. Eh. Ver.
Yes, I just quoted The Sandlot.
Anyway! So finally, we find seats but we magically got the theatre with all the handicapped people in it, so the seats we like best were taken due to that. Instead, we got to sit in the front part, right in front of this bitch that kept kicking my seat and made me want to slowly rip her ears off with her own teeth.
So we get seated, I tell Bri that I'm going to go get the popcorn and stuff and to just wait there. I go and get in The Line of One Thousand Fangirls and try to tune out the numerous screams of "JACOB!" "EDWARD!" and "OMGZ!" all around me to a dull roar. If you remember the deafening experience I described forever ago up above, you'll know that it was relatively easy. After twenty minutes and at least five people deciding that the space right. In. Front. Of. Me. was the best place to cross from one side of the line to the other side, I got to the front and paid $18 for one bag of popcorn and two large drinks.
You read that correctly.
Eight. Teen. Fucking. Dollars.
WHAT THE FUCK. ARG.
So now my left eye is twitching hard enough that I'm starting to worry if it is literally going to fall out of its socket when I get to the door to my theatre again. I'm just about to walk in when the usher asks to see my ticket.
Bitch, I am fucking holding a large back of popcorn and two large drinks that are so fucking cold that I think that maybe I just got ninja-bit by a fucking sparklepire and my ticket is in my back fucking pocket and you want me to get it out for you? Fuck you. Seriously, I hope you got mauled by a tractor on the way home. So I make him hold my bag of popcorn while I find my ticket and show him, then take the fucking bag of popped bane-of-my-existence and bid him to have a good evening because I am a nice person. I get in, give Brian the popcorn, drinks, sit down and try to get the bloodflow in my left arm working again. A little after this, the projector starts to get fucked up.
....
Sound works, but the images aren't showing. I'm sitting there about to smack the bitch behind me kicking my seat, with the ridiculously long straw that I have to use in order to actually sip my drink, in the eye because I'm so frustratedly angry when this shit happens. Seriously, what the fuck. Learn to use the equipment, I KNOW YOU BITCHES WERE THERE AT FOUR IN THE MORNING LEARNING HOW TO USE IT, GODS DAMMIT.
*breathes*
They finally get it working again, just in time for the good previews to start playing, yay! After that fucking BAMF-y trailer that just got released for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows and the one for Inception, which looks so good I could probably give a damn about Leonardo DiCaprio's career again, I'm in a less homicidal mood now.
Then Eclipse starts.
Let me tell you, the opening scene of this movie was actually pretty good. Whoever played that Riley guy, give that fucker raise because he stole the show. Not that there was much there to begin with, but seriously, he was the best part of the whole movie and, apparently, the only guy who can act. I usually like the guy who plays Charlie in these movies, but I think he realized what the fuck he got himself into and can now only make it into work without wanting to shoot himself in the fact by doing so drunk.
But yeah, that opening scene was great. I enjoyed it a lot. In fact, it was so good that I actually had a slim ray of hope that this movie wasn't going to make me want to claw my eyes out with a rusty nail.
Them fuckers lied to me. They lulled me into a false sense of security and then hit me upside the head with a sledgehammer of WHAT THE FUCK.
Now, I've read the books. All four of them. That's why I'm so damned excited about seeing Breaking Dawn in theatres, because I know what happens. Seriously, it's going to be a riot. I can't wait for it. However, Eclipse was always...well, I think my brain just decided to gloss that shit right over because I can never remember what the hell happened in that book without my eyes starting to glaze over. Of all the books, it's the most boring and this movie got that perfectly. Best interpretation of a book on the silver screen I've seen so far.
The only parts of this movie worth seeing are the bits with the newborn vampires. Honestly, they were the best part for me because I actually gave two damns what the fuck they were doing, and all they really did was set a car on fire and walk across a lake. Creepiest part of the whole movie, which isn't saying much, is when Riley's head slowly emerges from the lakewater. If you want to see that, though, just go watch the trailer. Best part of the whole movie, outside of the opening scene, and it only lasts about a second.
That's about it, really. I know, you're probably sitting there like "that's it? What the fuck, I feel like I just read a novel." Yeah, I wasn't expecting it to be this long, but...whatever. It is, so if you read this far, I'll give you a gold star sticker if/when I see you.
Oh! And here's a shout-out to the guy driving in front of me! Kindly go fuck yourself with a birdcage. *thumbs up*
1) I have a bit of a bet with myself. I went and saw the first movie at the midnight showing with a few friends, knowing that it would be quite an entertaining night, then did the same with New Moon, going to see it in order to cheer up a friend who had had a bad day. After all, the movies are great...if you approach them as a comedy. So now, it's decided that I will attend every one of these movies at the midnight showing. Since there's only two more, I don't foresee much of a problem.
2) If I go, and bring at least one other person with me, that means that at least two fans of the series will be unable to attend because I'm sitting, nice and smug, in the seat that they so desperately want to be in. Knowing that gives me a sense of delighted glee. Yes, I'm sadistic, cruel, yadda yadda yadda. It's amusing to me.
3) I talk during movies. Like, a lot and quite often. Usually, I mock the characters and the plot and anything else I can think of. Since I'm not a fan of the series, doing so makes it less enjoyable for the rest of the people near me. Since most of those people are actually fans of the series, I get to make their night less than perfect. This, too, gives me a sense of pure delight, not unlike how I imagine swallowing a cute, happy kitten whole might be.
...What? You know you think about it sometimes.
4) ...There actually was a four, but I can't think of it anymore, and I figured that only having a list of three reasons might be a little pretentious, and kind've convenient, I suppose.
Now that that's out of the way, here's the part you're actually interested in! The recap, review and rant.
I'd been trying to convince my boyfriend to come with me to see the movie, but it was a bit of a risk considering it premiered in the middle of the week and he has work. Finally, though, he agreed and bought the tickets yesterday. We got dinner and headed to the theatre about two hours before the show was set to start.
Now, Kerasotes was the theatre that was originally there, but it was recently bought by AMC and converted to their lovely format. We spent $20 on just the fucking tickets alone, and concessions were $18. Seriously, what the fuck. Kerasotes was way better. Plus, they got rid of House of the Dead 2 in the arcade.
WHO DOES THAT?!
So now, irritated due to ticket prices, though still blissfully unaware of how much popcorn and soda is going to cost, we tried to figure out what to do for the next two hours. It was then that we saw the line.
Now, the theatre we go to is a moderately large size theatre. They have sixteen screens, so you can imagine how big this place is.
The hallways were packed on both sides with tweens, teens and Twilight moms waiting to get in. We stared at the lines then each other and slowly picked our way over to the line for our theatre, shocked by the sheer amount of estrogen in the air. But it wasn't that which was the most frightening...
I suppose it was when I saw the girl carrying the life-sized cutout of Jacob in one hand and her...male co-attendant that I realized we weren't in Kansas, aka the land of fucking sanity, anymore. The previous two opening nights had been relatively calm and easy, maybe even a bit boring. But this was just...somewhat madness.
Finally, we find our line and get to the end of it, lean against the wall and start chatting a bit. By now, Brian, aka The Boyfriend, is getting a little freaked out. I had told him it was going to be fun, the movie would be hilarious and we'd be fine.
Then the Four Girls showed up.
There were two behind us who were chatting it up, talking about omgeddiekinslolololiluvyouhavemysparklebabies for a bit, but that was nothing compared to these girls. They couldn't have been more than fifteen, wearing black t-shirts and jeans that could only legally be counted as panties, rather than anything resembling shorts. Seriously, my co-females, if your leg coverings, whatever they are, are not above two inches longer than your underwear...
YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG.
Anyway, these girls, these tweens who are obviously SUPERHARDCORELOLOMG fans of the books, come over and demand to know if the girls behind us are Team Edward or Team Jacob. I can hear a little pause behind me before they finally say "Team Edward."
It was at that point that I think my ear decided to kill itself. Never in my life have I heard four girls scream "EW!" louder at two simple words than I did just then. Thankfully, they left just after that and I was allowed to recover what semi-masochistic bit of ear drum I had left in my right ear. But seriously, these girls were wandering around the theatre the whole time demanding to know which "Team" everyone was on. If it was Edward, they did the "EW!" thing, and if it was Jacob, they would get all happy, giggly and sparkle a bit.
Honestly, I don't know why these girls hated Edward so much, since they were clearly just as airheaded as he was and were wearing enough make-up that they themselves glittered in the light. Really, you'd think they'd be able to find a connection in that alone.
Thankfully, most of the rest of our time in line was relatively quiet and uneventful, except when The Four Girls came back, demanding to know what team the ushers were on. I think the best part of my night was when one of the ushers told them he was on Team Van Hellsing and the girls got that empty headed look that you can literally hear the hamster starting to pant in order to make the gears in their brains turn. Of course, the hamster must have decided that life was no longer worth living and thrown itself into whatever semi-working machinery was still left in these girls' heads as they clearly did not understand what he was talking about. Then they left, and all was grand again!
Finally, at about 11:30, we were allowed to actually enter the theatre that we would be enduring the next few hours of crazed teenage fangirls and their sad, lonely, rather frighteningly obsessed fan-moms, also known as the "Twilight Moms." Seriously, these women are frightening because not only are they fans of these stupid books, but they are also a) able to drive, b) have endured childbirth so are able to withstand large amounts of pain without batting an eye, c) these women have the time and money to buy whatever weaponry they so desire in order to achieve their desires and d) likely no longer have the same sex life they did as young adults, since men tend to hit their sexual peak at around, oh, twenty and women hit it at about the age most of these Twilight Moms are.
Also, most of them have likely thought about killing their own children, so they could probably get away with killing you, stashing your body in their mini-van and finding the closest soccer field to bury your mutilated body in.
These women scare me. I will have nightmares for forever. For-eh-ver. For. Eh. Ver.
Yes, I just quoted The Sandlot.
Anyway! So finally, we find seats but we magically got the theatre with all the handicapped people in it, so the seats we like best were taken due to that. Instead, we got to sit in the front part, right in front of this bitch that kept kicking my seat and made me want to slowly rip her ears off with her own teeth.
So we get seated, I tell Bri that I'm going to go get the popcorn and stuff and to just wait there. I go and get in The Line of One Thousand Fangirls and try to tune out the numerous screams of "JACOB!" "EDWARD!" and "OMGZ!" all around me to a dull roar. If you remember the deafening experience I described forever ago up above, you'll know that it was relatively easy. After twenty minutes and at least five people deciding that the space right. In. Front. Of. Me. was the best place to cross from one side of the line to the other side, I got to the front and paid $18 for one bag of popcorn and two large drinks.
You read that correctly.
Eight. Teen. Fucking. Dollars.
WHAT THE FUCK. ARG.
So now my left eye is twitching hard enough that I'm starting to worry if it is literally going to fall out of its socket when I get to the door to my theatre again. I'm just about to walk in when the usher asks to see my ticket.
Bitch, I am fucking holding a large back of popcorn and two large drinks that are so fucking cold that I think that maybe I just got ninja-bit by a fucking sparklepire and my ticket is in my back fucking pocket and you want me to get it out for you? Fuck you. Seriously, I hope you got mauled by a tractor on the way home. So I make him hold my bag of popcorn while I find my ticket and show him, then take the fucking bag of popped bane-of-my-existence and bid him to have a good evening because I am a nice person. I get in, give Brian the popcorn, drinks, sit down and try to get the bloodflow in my left arm working again. A little after this, the projector starts to get fucked up.
....
Sound works, but the images aren't showing. I'm sitting there about to smack the bitch behind me kicking my seat, with the ridiculously long straw that I have to use in order to actually sip my drink, in the eye because I'm so frustratedly angry when this shit happens. Seriously, what the fuck. Learn to use the equipment, I KNOW YOU BITCHES WERE THERE AT FOUR IN THE MORNING LEARNING HOW TO USE IT, GODS DAMMIT.
*breathes*
They finally get it working again, just in time for the good previews to start playing, yay! After that fucking BAMF-y trailer that just got released for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows and the one for Inception, which looks so good I could probably give a damn about Leonardo DiCaprio's career again, I'm in a less homicidal mood now.
Then Eclipse starts.
Let me tell you, the opening scene of this movie was actually pretty good. Whoever played that Riley guy, give that fucker raise because he stole the show. Not that there was much there to begin with, but seriously, he was the best part of the whole movie and, apparently, the only guy who can act. I usually like the guy who plays Charlie in these movies, but I think he realized what the fuck he got himself into and can now only make it into work without wanting to shoot himself in the fact by doing so drunk.
But yeah, that opening scene was great. I enjoyed it a lot. In fact, it was so good that I actually had a slim ray of hope that this movie wasn't going to make me want to claw my eyes out with a rusty nail.
Them fuckers lied to me. They lulled me into a false sense of security and then hit me upside the head with a sledgehammer of WHAT THE FUCK.
Now, I've read the books. All four of them. That's why I'm so damned excited about seeing Breaking Dawn in theatres, because I know what happens. Seriously, it's going to be a riot. I can't wait for it. However, Eclipse was always...well, I think my brain just decided to gloss that shit right over because I can never remember what the hell happened in that book without my eyes starting to glaze over. Of all the books, it's the most boring and this movie got that perfectly. Best interpretation of a book on the silver screen I've seen so far.
The only parts of this movie worth seeing are the bits with the newborn vampires. Honestly, they were the best part for me because I actually gave two damns what the fuck they were doing, and all they really did was set a car on fire and walk across a lake. Creepiest part of the whole movie, which isn't saying much, is when Riley's head slowly emerges from the lakewater. If you want to see that, though, just go watch the trailer. Best part of the whole movie, outside of the opening scene, and it only lasts about a second.
That's about it, really. I know, you're probably sitting there like "that's it? What the fuck, I feel like I just read a novel." Yeah, I wasn't expecting it to be this long, but...whatever. It is, so if you read this far, I'll give you a gold star sticker if/when I see you.
Oh! And here's a shout-out to the guy driving in front of me! Kindly go fuck yourself with a birdcage. *thumbs up*
Saturday, May 22, 2010
What's So Special...
...about birthdays?
Today is my birthday. I turn twenty-one today, and that makes me of legal age to drink and, I think, gamble where I live.
But I don't like my birthday. Why? I just don't, really. Everyone says "oh have a happy birthday!" or "hope your day is special and awesome!" I hear stories about people having amazing days full of friends, and craziness, and happiness. Mine birthdays are never like that. It's in May, so whenever it falls on a weekend, normally a Saturday, everybody's busy with sports and whatnot, so no one's ever available to really see me. Especially my own family, not that I really care anymore. They're all so loud and obnoxious all the time. I really just couldn't care less. Everything always seems to go wrong or the day just ends prematurely. Yelling, screaming, fighting. It doesn't matter. It's just another day of the year, to me. To everybody. It just doesn't matter.
Today is my birthday. I turn twenty-one today, and that makes me of legal age to drink and, I think, gamble where I live.
But I don't like my birthday. Why? I just don't, really. Everyone says "oh have a happy birthday!" or "hope your day is special and awesome!" I hear stories about people having amazing days full of friends, and craziness, and happiness. Mine birthdays are never like that. It's in May, so whenever it falls on a weekend, normally a Saturday, everybody's busy with sports and whatnot, so no one's ever available to really see me. Especially my own family, not that I really care anymore. They're all so loud and obnoxious all the time. I really just couldn't care less. Everything always seems to go wrong or the day just ends prematurely. Yelling, screaming, fighting. It doesn't matter. It's just another day of the year, to me. To everybody. It just doesn't matter.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Let's Talk About...
...sex.
And I just lost a few of my readers. I'm guessing they're the more uptight individuals who might read this, but whatever. I don't particularly give a damn.
Anyway, back to what I want to talk about in this post: sex.
I've been thinking about relationships a lot recently, for various reasons. As some of you may know, I've been in a relationship for the past three-and-a-half years. It's been a good time and I have a lot of fun with him, trust him, enjoy his company, the whole nine yards. But, I still think about the relationship itself, where it's going, and the nature of relationships themselves.
Now, today, I came across something that demanded my attention, especially when you factor in the fact that I've been thinking about similar ideas recently. What was this that demanded my attention, you ask?
Well, while browsing Facebook, the Holy Grail of information regarding your friends, family and various other individuals who you desire to stalk via the internet, I saw that a few of my friends had become fans of this page: There's More To A Relationship Than Just Sex.
Just to state right off the bat, I agree with the idea that there is more to a relationship than just sex. If there wasn't, there would be no point in making friendships, getting to know each other, yadda yadda yadda. We wouldn't make emotional connections to other people and, instead, just fuck all of the time and then go about our business when we were satisfied.
Welcome back to those of you who had to go for a bit due to thinking of this possible alternate to our own universe.
Anyway, while I agree with the basic tenant of this statement, I think that the key foundation of a relationship with another person is sex. To clarify, my use of the term "relationship" is referring to a social, "romantic"* connection with another individual. This "relationship" is one between two people who desire each other in a "more than friends" way. IE they want to fuck and have an emotional connection, too.
Now, I probably just appalled a few of you, but whatever. If you have issues with what I say, there are probably numerous buttons on your screen that will allow you to leave this page, most importantly that little X button in the top right-hand corner of your screen. For those of you who aren't appalled, or desire to stay anyway, I shall continue.
In my personal opinion, a relationship is between two people. I don't care if you're a man and a woman, two men, two women, of different ethnicity, religions, race, whatever. That doesn't matter to me. What matters is that there are two people involved in this relationship. Some of you might be whining to this effect "What about the polyamourous people?!". Whatever. For the purposes of this post, it's two people. You can have relationships with others, but we're focusing on two people. Don't like it, tough, go away, shut the fuck up.
Anyway! Sex is an important dynamic to this type of relationship. If you're not attracted to the person, why are you bothering to waste your time with them? Sure, you can have a good time with them, they're funny, you can even love them. But if the heat's not there, the cake isn't going to cook. And if the cake don't cook, you're not going to want to eat it.
(For those of you lost on my analogy, that means that if you don't like the person sexually, your relationship won't last.)
Some of you are probably shaking your heads furiously saying "that's not the way it goes!" and whining to your significant other. Most of you are probably females whose boyfriends haven't been laid or even suggestively touched for the entirety of your two month relationship because you believe this. All I can say is, to the girl, you're a fucking tease. And to the guy, I'm sorry you got stuck with such a frigid bitch.
And I just lost a few of my readers. I'm guessing they're the more uptight individuals who might read this, but whatever. I don't particularly give a damn.
Anyway, back to what I want to talk about in this post: sex.
I've been thinking about relationships a lot recently, for various reasons. As some of you may know, I've been in a relationship for the past three-and-a-half years. It's been a good time and I have a lot of fun with him, trust him, enjoy his company, the whole nine yards. But, I still think about the relationship itself, where it's going, and the nature of relationships themselves.
Now, today, I came across something that demanded my attention, especially when you factor in the fact that I've been thinking about similar ideas recently. What was this that demanded my attention, you ask?
Well, while browsing Facebook, the Holy Grail of information regarding your friends, family and various other individuals who you desire to stalk via the internet, I saw that a few of my friends had become fans of this page: There's More To A Relationship Than Just Sex.
Just to state right off the bat, I agree with the idea that there is more to a relationship than just sex. If there wasn't, there would be no point in making friendships, getting to know each other, yadda yadda yadda. We wouldn't make emotional connections to other people and, instead, just fuck all of the time and then go about our business when we were satisfied.
Welcome back to those of you who had to go for a bit due to thinking of this possible alternate to our own universe.
Anyway, while I agree with the basic tenant of this statement, I think that the key foundation of a relationship with another person is sex. To clarify, my use of the term "relationship" is referring to a social, "romantic"* connection with another individual. This "relationship" is one between two people who desire each other in a "more than friends" way. IE they want to fuck and have an emotional connection, too.
Now, I probably just appalled a few of you, but whatever. If you have issues with what I say, there are probably numerous buttons on your screen that will allow you to leave this page, most importantly that little X button in the top right-hand corner of your screen. For those of you who aren't appalled, or desire to stay anyway, I shall continue.
In my personal opinion, a relationship is between two people. I don't care if you're a man and a woman, two men, two women, of different ethnicity, religions, race, whatever. That doesn't matter to me. What matters is that there are two people involved in this relationship. Some of you might be whining to this effect "What about the polyamourous people?!". Whatever. For the purposes of this post, it's two people. You can have relationships with others, but we're focusing on two people. Don't like it, tough, go away, shut the fuck up.
Anyway! Sex is an important dynamic to this type of relationship. If you're not attracted to the person, why are you bothering to waste your time with them? Sure, you can have a good time with them, they're funny, you can even love them. But if the heat's not there, the cake isn't going to cook. And if the cake don't cook, you're not going to want to eat it.
(For those of you lost on my analogy, that means that if you don't like the person sexually, your relationship won't last.)
Some of you are probably shaking your heads furiously saying "that's not the way it goes!" and whining to your significant other. Most of you are probably females whose boyfriends haven't been laid or even suggestively touched for the entirety of your two month relationship because you believe this. All I can say is, to the girl, you're a fucking tease. And to the guy, I'm sorry you got stuck with such a frigid bitch.
Friday, February 19, 2010
What Is With People...
...and guns?
I am sitting here right now, doing laundry after having had another bad day in a series of bad days when I get a text from a friend. I read it and find out that, apparently, there has been a shooting in my dormitory. Now, I live on the south side of the building and the shooting occurred on the north side. And the building is fairly large, so it is no wonder that I was unaware of it. But still...
The thing is, though, that I go to Northern Illinois University. Now, I didn't want to originally announce this on my blog, but that is apparently not going to happen. Some of you might recognize the name of my school and some of you might not. Let me explain.
Two years ago, on February 14, 2008, at around 3pm, a young man walked in through the back doors of a classroom. Once inside, he took a gun and starting shooting people. Five people died and many more were injured, at least two of which I knew personally who lived on my floor. And then the gunman took his own life.
That was two years and one week ago. Last weekend, I went to the memorial service for those five students who died, lining the sidewalks with my fellow NIU students, faculty and others, in order to give the families a sense of camaraderie as they headed to see the memorial built for them near Cole Hall, where the shooting took place. I was overwhelmed with grief, despite the fact that I knew none of the victims. It was a very intense day and I don't think that I will ever forget it.
Two years and one week later, I am still trying to cope with the fact that this occurred. I have never spoken to anyone about my feelings on the topic, not even with my boyfriend of three and a half years, and how much it has affected me. I go through random bouts of sadness and stress, thinking about what occurred. There are many reasons for why it freaks me out so badly, but among the top two are these:
1) When the shooting occurred, I was in DuSable/Reavis. This is the building next door to Cole Hall.
2) Had the shooter chosen the day previously, I would have been in that classroom, sitting in the exact spot that he concentrated most of his fire.
Some of you reading this might be thinking "Oh, what a drama queen, trying to get sympathy for this!". To those people, I have two things to say:
1) Fuck you.
2) Put yourself in my shoes. If you knew that, had it been a day earlier, you could have been killed, wouldn't you be freaked out? If he had chosen DuSable/Reavis instead of Cole?
And now, tonight. Tonight, one week after the two year anniversary of the February 14th shooting at Northern Illinois University, I receive a text from a friend of mine telling me that there's been a shooting in my own dorm.
Am I stressed out? Yes. Yes, I am.
I am sitting here right now, doing laundry after having had another bad day in a series of bad days when I get a text from a friend. I read it and find out that, apparently, there has been a shooting in my dormitory. Now, I live on the south side of the building and the shooting occurred on the north side. And the building is fairly large, so it is no wonder that I was unaware of it. But still...
The thing is, though, that I go to Northern Illinois University. Now, I didn't want to originally announce this on my blog, but that is apparently not going to happen. Some of you might recognize the name of my school and some of you might not. Let me explain.
Two years ago, on February 14, 2008, at around 3pm, a young man walked in through the back doors of a classroom. Once inside, he took a gun and starting shooting people. Five people died and many more were injured, at least two of which I knew personally who lived on my floor. And then the gunman took his own life.
That was two years and one week ago. Last weekend, I went to the memorial service for those five students who died, lining the sidewalks with my fellow NIU students, faculty and others, in order to give the families a sense of camaraderie as they headed to see the memorial built for them near Cole Hall, where the shooting took place. I was overwhelmed with grief, despite the fact that I knew none of the victims. It was a very intense day and I don't think that I will ever forget it.
Two years and one week later, I am still trying to cope with the fact that this occurred. I have never spoken to anyone about my feelings on the topic, not even with my boyfriend of three and a half years, and how much it has affected me. I go through random bouts of sadness and stress, thinking about what occurred. There are many reasons for why it freaks me out so badly, but among the top two are these:
1) When the shooting occurred, I was in DuSable/Reavis. This is the building next door to Cole Hall.
2) Had the shooter chosen the day previously, I would have been in that classroom, sitting in the exact spot that he concentrated most of his fire.
Some of you reading this might be thinking "Oh, what a drama queen, trying to get sympathy for this!". To those people, I have two things to say:
1) Fuck you.
2) Put yourself in my shoes. If you knew that, had it been a day earlier, you could have been killed, wouldn't you be freaked out? If he had chosen DuSable/Reavis instead of Cole?
And now, tonight. Tonight, one week after the two year anniversary of the February 14th shooting at Northern Illinois University, I receive a text from a friend of mine telling me that there's been a shooting in my own dorm.
Am I stressed out? Yes. Yes, I am.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Oh, Stupid People...
...how I both love and loathe thee.
Honestly, I really do have a love-hate relationship with stupid people. Really. I love them because that means I get to mock them and they usually just end up looking like more of an idiot when they try to insult me. Especially when they use my own jokes/insults against me. Really, if you're going to try, at least come up with some good material; I could really use a challenge.
Despite this, I also hate the fact that stupid people exist. I mean, there are just some people who you read what they say or listen to it and just pause and think to yourself "...No. No, this is impossible. No one cannot honestly be that stupid." And then you wonder how they can breathe and walk at the same time. Really, there are people out there that just make me want to beat my head against a wall until I fall unconscious.
Some of you may be thinking "YOU'RE A BITCH!" Or, rather "u bitch!", "ur a bitch!!!1one!". ...I don't care. Honestly, your negative opinion means absolutely nothing to me. I know I'm a terrible person, dammit! And, yet, people still love me, enjoy my company, find me entertaining and amusing. I don't get it but, hell, whatever feeds my ego.
Honestly, I really do have a love-hate relationship with stupid people. Really. I love them because that means I get to mock them and they usually just end up looking like more of an idiot when they try to insult me. Especially when they use my own jokes/insults against me. Really, if you're going to try, at least come up with some good material; I could really use a challenge.
Despite this, I also hate the fact that stupid people exist. I mean, there are just some people who you read what they say or listen to it and just pause and think to yourself "...No. No, this is impossible. No one cannot honestly be that stupid." And then you wonder how they can breathe and walk at the same time. Really, there are people out there that just make me want to beat my head against a wall until I fall unconscious.
Some of you may be thinking "YOU'RE A BITCH!" Or, rather "u bitch!", "ur a bitch!!!1one!". ...I don't care. Honestly, your negative opinion means absolutely nothing to me. I know I'm a terrible person, dammit! And, yet, people still love me, enjoy my company, find me entertaining and amusing. I don't get it but, hell, whatever feeds my ego.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
What The Fuck...
...is this all about?
A friend of mine has been demanding that I start a blog recently. And by demanding, I mean serious fucking hardcore "DO THIS!" demands. There were no death threats, but I like to make preemptive strikes against stuff like that. So, in order to appease her and keep my kidneys, I started up this blog.
So, who is this Cat person? Well, I'm currently attending university, majoring in English and History with a minor in Classical Studies and a concentration in Medieval Studies. Sound like a lot? HA. It's not. I just know how to make the system my bitch.
What else am I willing to share? Not much. I'm 5'4", husky is a nice way of describing my figure, wear glasses and have brown hair and brown eyes. I know myself pretty well after twenty years of being here on this Earth, to the point where even psychologists that I have spoken to realize that I'm just there to have my theories confirmed or need someone to talk to without interruption within the first five minutes of me opening my mouth. There isn't much that you can say that will bring me down as my ego has achieved critical mass. But, then again, I know who I am. I know what I like, what I want and what I need.
Other than that, I'm just a pretty sarcastic person who uses gratuitous amounts of swear words and threats of violence. I dislike many things, most of which you'll hear about on here at different times.
Basically, be prepared for a lot of ranting. If you don't like that...
GET THE FUCK OUT.
A friend of mine has been demanding that I start a blog recently. And by demanding, I mean serious fucking hardcore "DO THIS!" demands. There were no death threats, but I like to make preemptive strikes against stuff like that. So, in order to appease her and keep my kidneys, I started up this blog.
So, who is this Cat person? Well, I'm currently attending university, majoring in English and History with a minor in Classical Studies and a concentration in Medieval Studies. Sound like a lot? HA. It's not. I just know how to make the system my bitch.
What else am I willing to share? Not much. I'm 5'4", husky is a nice way of describing my figure, wear glasses and have brown hair and brown eyes. I know myself pretty well after twenty years of being here on this Earth, to the point where even psychologists that I have spoken to realize that I'm just there to have my theories confirmed or need someone to talk to without interruption within the first five minutes of me opening my mouth. There isn't much that you can say that will bring me down as my ego has achieved critical mass. But, then again, I know who I am. I know what I like, what I want and what I need.
Other than that, I'm just a pretty sarcastic person who uses gratuitous amounts of swear words and threats of violence. I dislike many things, most of which you'll hear about on here at different times.
Basically, be prepared for a lot of ranting. If you don't like that...
GET THE FUCK OUT.
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