I'm just not that into your movie

I am often accused of having no standards when it comes to movies, and in a certain way I guess it's true. I mean, I not only enjoyed National Treasure, I also liked National Treasure 2: Book of Secrets. However, I think really bad movies are actually really hilarious. I'm not going to try to argue that there should have been Oscar buzz about NT2, but come on. It's hysterical in how bad it is. Some gentleman came up to me in the lobby of the theater afterward I watched it (YES I saw it in the theater get over it) and snapped at me for laughing so loudly during the movie. He said something along the lines of "You guys were annoying the whole theater." I snapped back with "Well, at least I wasn't the one taking National Treasure 2 seriously."

AnyOLDHOO, I recently watched "He's Just Not That Into You" and it was the worst experience ever. I actually watched the movie last week, but I was so mad about it that I probably would have been incoherent had I tried to vent about it back then. For me the pain was still too near. When I read the book, I felt like the heavens had opened up and [insert name of the deity of your choice] was smiling upon me and saying "It's okay Tina, sometimes boys are retarded. Ain't no thang." Like the title suggests, the book basically verbally assaults women for making excuses for guys who probably are just not that into them. The MOVIE, however, totally perverts that message. After Ginnifer Goodwin convinces herself that Justin Long is in love with her and not only convinces herself that he asked her to "co-host" his party, but also sexually assaults him, Justin Long admonishes her for doing exactly what he's been telling her not to do this whole time: convince yourself that a guy is in love with you when he hasn't given any overt signs. She thought she was the exception and not the rule. BUT THEN, Justin Long later realizes that he DOES love her, and professes his love, which is when this happens:

[Justin Long kisses Ginnifer Goodwin]
GG (incidentally, her name is Gigi in the movie): ...I'm the exception...
JL (NOT named Jill, unfortunately): [whispers] you're *my* exception.
[I GUFFAW AND VOMIT]

Don't even get me started on the other story lines. Jennifer Connelly is an annoying shrew of a wife who cares more about whether her husband is smoking than about the fact that he cheated on her? Irritating. Drew Barrymore is in charge of advertising at a gay magazine and they make her lisp out "Myspace" and "Facebook" and whine about how technology has made everything more complicated? Disjointed and useless. (Also false. Technology is amazing and wonderful.) The fact that they made Scarlett Johansson look fat? PREPOSTEROUS. How bad do you have to be at film-making to make one of the most beautiful women ever look like a chubby loser?

So in conclusion, don't watch the movie. Here is a list of (girly) movies that you should watch instead:

• Pride and Prejudice (Keira Knightley version)
  
• Love Actually (my fave Christmas movie and the way a vignette movie should be done. Sidebar: I'm afraid of how bad that movie Valentine's Day is going to be.)
  
• Marie Antoinette
  
• Stardust
  
• Bridget Jones' Diary
  
• basically ANYTHING ELSE EVER
  

Tears of JOY

There are several music-related moments in my life that I will never forget. The first was when Aubrey played Annie's Heartbeat while we were hanging out, and I made her play it three more times (at least) while we stood around and had an impromptu dance party. It really cemented our burgeoning friendship. I loved the song so much that one time I was walking outside of Aeropostale (don't judge) and when I heard them play a remix of it, I went inside and was persuaded to purchase a pair of pants that I didn't really care for and didn't really fit. They were playing the best song in the world--they deserved the money.

The second is when I accidentally stumbled across MMMatthias while perusing several music blogs (several are which are to the right), and discovered THIS GEM. We're allowed to listen to music while we work on our exams, and at the end of spring quarter last year I listened to exclusively that song while taking all four of my exams. It was magnificent. It deserves at least 65% of the credit for me not failing out of law school, because it certainly wasn't the effort I put in.

Other notable moments are my discoveries of Crimewave, Fred Falke's remix of New in Town, and the Designer Drugs remix of Anthonio (also by Annie).

All of this is pretty much meaningless compared to FEAR OF TIGERS. Aubrey posted about the first song from his free album (legal download, what whaaat!), but I LOVE this one:



When I first heard it I felt like someone had Five Point Palm Exploding Heart Technique-d me. (Neeeeeerd alert!) Download the album, get your headphones, blast it, and listen with iTunes visualizer. TRUST ME.

Ps. Sorry for over-hyperlinking. I just love dance music SO MUCH.

Yes, I am blogging.

I have just spent the last three hours of my life changing fonts and background pictures for this thing. It is so hard and time-consuming. I wish I just knew how to do it, instead of having to google "can you make your blog title glittery?" I'm sure you can, but I have rapidly lost interest in making this thing beautiful. 1.2 people read this anyway, so whatever.

Funny story: the twitter widget I'm using is in Spanish ("siga-me no Twitter"!) because the English ones were broken or you couldn't change the font color, and I couldn't have that heinousness on my blog.

This reminds me of the time (literally three days ago) when I was going to change my printer toner cartridge, but got irrationally nervous right before I did it and so I googled a youtube video of someone else doing it. Like, one of those official tutorial videos. I felt foolish when it was literally the easiest thing in the history of the universe. I am turning into my dad. The first text he ever sent me was literally like this: "Hitinathisisdadwhattimedoyouwantmetopickyouupfromyourfriendshousepleasecallortextmethankslovedad" because he couldn't figure out where the space button was. PRESH.

Doesn't it blow your mindhole that when we are old(er) there will most likely be some technology where we'll be all "What the FLOCK is this nonsense?" and young whippersnappers will roll their eyes at us and sigh?

fucking LOST

I went to trivia today, and we did SO bad. Neither one of our teams even placed (first place gets money and a round of shots and a pitcher of beer and second place gets to pick a category for next week) and my team did embarrassingly bad. It was horrific. I got some random questions that I totally pulled out of my ass, so the night wasn't a complete loss. Last week our team WON and it was probably the highlight of my life.

ALSO, thanks to my friend Maris (who was on the winning team last week), I have embarked on an Augean journey to watch the first five seasons of Lost before the last season premieres on February 2. THIS IS MY EVEREST. I've been making pretty good time, actually. I'd say I'm at Camp II (aka Season 3 ep 7). I watched all of season two in about two days. This was accomplished by staying up until 7 am and then sleeping until 1pm. And, of course, not going to school.

Here is how I feel about Lost: when I was in high school, I saw an opera called Lucia di Lammermoor where some stupid slag goes crazy. The point is, she kills herself (that's how ALL tragic operas end, silly), but takes like...eight THOUSAND years to do so. She ran around the stage in a bloody nightgown, clutching a knife, and singing about her woes in Italian for an entire act. As a result, I got bored out of my mind and started playing hangman on my program. Lost is similar. [WARNING: mild plot spoilers up ahead.] In an episode I just watched, this guy Eko is very clearly about to die, but he traipses about the island in a hallucinatory fog having weird dreams and ends up getting killed by the smoke monster (don't EVEN get me started on that). It was just like Lucia, except a large African man. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE binge-watching tv shows, but I'm at a point in Lost where I feel like the writers are just like "Fuck it, what else can we talk about?" so I'm really annoyed and it feels more like a chore. But they're so damn sneaky, I'm like "Yes. OBVIOUSLY the giant magnet was not only controlled by a computer that you have to type numbers into every 108 minutes, but it turned the sky purple." I have a feeling I should have gone with my gut instinct about Lost when I watched half of the pilot a few years ago. ("Polar bears? SMOKE MONSTER? Wtf forget this.") If you're going to binge-watch a show, may I recommend Dexter? QUALITY.

But at this point, I've already given Lost my youth and my best years, and I feel like it'll be better than just skimming the Wikipedia page. But I swear to Gott im Himmel, if the last season doesn't make me weep with joy, I will be writing JJ Abrams a VERY strongly worded letter about it, and about how he just abandoned Alias, which to this day still makes me weep with joy. At least the first three seasons, before he just dropped it like a prom night baby. (Aubrey's joke, not mine.)

HA.

Okay, before I finish off my livejournal account once and for all, I am salvaging the only two possibly slightly funny things.

1.
Background: I'm taking an english class over the summer and it is FOUR WEEKS of hamlet. Fun. Sort of. Anyway, we're doing this film comparison paper and we got into groups and we each watch a different movie version. So, my group got assigned a Russian version called Gamlet, which caused us lots of needless pain, let me tell you. After looking at every library in the United States, literally, we realized that the only DVD copy with English subtitles only existed at the Stanford University library. Great. So, we pulled out a phone book and started calling every single video store in the greater Seattle area. We excluded thems places that were obvious, such as "Wallingford Adult Video Store" (that's just a made up example)and the like. Finally, the last place I called was Top Video, which I didn't think was one of those places, but alas, it was, and fortunately for me, the following conversation occurred: [ed. note: this was a phone convo]

Guy Who Works There: Top Video: how can i help you?
Me: Um, do you carry Gamlet? It's a Russian version of Hamlet?
Guy: What?
Me: Gamlet? Hamlet? Hello? HELLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO?!?!?!?!
Guy: What's Hamlet?
Me: William Shakespeare's Hamlet? You don't know it? (Somewhat incredulous, as I have been studying only this for the last two weeks and have convinced myself that it is the only book that has ever and will ever exist)
Guy: Oh, like [in robot voice, seriously] "to be or not to be, that is the question!"
Me: Yes, I'm familiar with the play.
Guy: Sweetheart, this is a porno store.
Me: Oh.
Guy: If we had anything like what you're looking for, it'd be "Ham-LICK" or something. [him laughing like a crazy person on loon tablets and gas ensues]
Me: Um, what?
Guy: I'm a professional comedian, and that one was free.
Me: [continue to be utterly horrified]
Guy: So wasn't it funny?
Me: Um, kno. Bye.

2.
A conversation I recently had with a customer at work:

Me: How are you?
Customer: Oh, just peachy. How are you?
Me: Oh, I'm grape.

I kid you not.

***
Thank you, livejournal, for reminding me of what an idiot I am.

Hello, future.

So, I am FINALLY starting a blog. Okay, that's a lie. I apparently had one four years ago at, get this, LIVEJOURNAL. I had to have them to email me my password because I forgot it, and it turned out that the email address on file was my hotmail account (HA). Twenty trillion years later, I am now reading my old lj account (which I am going to delete stat) and am realizing what a complete idiot I was just four years ago. I mean, I sound special. Like...short bus special. It's like that time (aka every time) when I would start a diary and would find it a while later and want to DIE because it would be filled with "this boy is sooo cute! omfg!" Except back in the day, we didn't have "omg" THAT IS HOW OLD I AM. #jesuisfathertime

ANYWAY. So here I am. I have finally joined the future. I am pretty positive that I will come to regret this like the diary I used to keep in my Little House on the Prairie journal that ended up with nothing but the covers because I would rip out the pages and spend many minutes cutting them into tiny pieces (this was before regular people had shredders). GOD I'm old. I can only hope that my blog is 1/16 as hysterical and witty as Aubrey's or Aubrey and Virginia's. They are true ladies. And scholars.

P.S. I actually started this blog to chronicle my journey through this book during the year I was deferred from my job. More on that later.