The tow yard

I visited my poor car in the lot today. I felt like I was visiting a sick patient or something. And I have to say I felt much better about my wreck after seeing the completely thrashed cars that were there. Most of them had something fly through the front window, a crumpled hood and at least one flat tire.

The lot manager and the tow trucker driver gave me pause though. Sure I watch way too many movies but these guys were walking stereotypes. The lot manager was a morbidly obese man who found it difficult to pull his ass away from his chair, so he used an intercom to talk to a guy who was just outside his window. A shiny balding head with a few strands still desperately clinging to his spotted scalp, topped the most spherical body I have ever seen. He also never stopped eating, and I had a feeling that if the food supply ever ran too low the cat asleep on his phone would make a quick substitute. He buzzed me into the tow yard, as I stepped in a wire fence wheeled shut behind me. The tow truck driver from Tuesday met me and I must have been a little dazed then because I didn't realize just how creepy he was. Under what was probably one a blue company ball hat, dark greasy hair hung to his chin. And he never seemed to stand up all the way. He was incredibly helpful but still I just wanted to get out.

I grabbed the few things left in my car and headed back out. I didn't look back, I felt like a traitor abandoning a good friend.

But then I remembered it was just a car and got over it.

Damn concrete and its non-bounciness!

Today was supposed to be great, last day of finals, no work. I could go home and stuff my face and veg out on the couch. But no, that's not how my day ended up.

After finals I headed home and of course it started raining. Driving down I-280 I decided it would be a great idea to take on the center divider. Sadly I lost, but I want a rematch.

OK what really happened was I hit a wet spot, my car spun out, hit the center divider (twice), airbags deployed, and I ended up perpendicular to oncoming traffic. To top it all off I received a fat lip and a few bag burns on my face, and I'm pretty sure I'll be very sore tomorrow. And I forgot my phone so I had to wait for a good samaritan to stop and call CHP.

When CHP got there they closed down all four lanes and had to push my car to the side. It was so sad as pieces of my poor little car were left behind. The tow truck driver doesn't think it's unslavagable but the insurance guy said it was a good possibility. I'd prefer to fix the car as I'm very attached to it, I actually felt bad as I watched it ride away to the tow yard. I swear it looked forlorn.

And then I spent the next hour on Caltrain to get home. And I definitely wont have a car for about two weeks.

SHUT UP!!

Listen I know you are passionate about subject x, but some of us have to be here, some mean person made it mandatory. Please keep your boring ass subject to the maximum 15 minute time limit, or I will rip your head off. Can you not see us sleeping? I'm in the fourth row back, can you see me now? I'm the one doing the sleeping head bob next to the girl that is drooling on herself, who is right behind the guy that is loudly snoring. I know you spent months on this but wrap-it-up, no one cares. The girl before you was nice enough to keep it down to 10 minutes and I almost ran up and kissed her. I don't even know your name and I actively seek your death. SHUT UP!!

Oops

So I love the library. I've always loved the library. When I was little I would go there for hours sit on the floor and stare at musty pages through my over sized glasses. So after so many happy (but yet nerdily sad) hours how can I be so cruel to the institution that was once so kind to me? Yep that's right I, a lover of the library, became part of it's most wanted list.

I somehow managed to rack up $102.50 in library bills.

It started to innocently too. I checked out The Affects of Oral (he he) Satire, for a class, and I read a good five pages out of about 250. So far so good. But then summer comes around and I head out of town and then I moved and completely forgot about this stupid little book. Now it's been six months and a few irate emails from the library and I finally return the book (it took some serious searching but good news I found a pair of shoes that I thought were completely gone). Now every time I head to the library I feel like I have a huge sign on me that reads BOOK THIEF, I swear the librarian glare at me as I walk by.

But my question is do I still owe $102.50? I mean the book wasn't that great.

Flying

I'm not a fan of flying. Don't like going to the airport, I hate taking off and landing is just evil. A huge tin can should not be soaring through the air. But a couple of times a year I suck it up and get on one of those flying death traps and start praying like I haven't for months. This year I'm headed to San Diego for Thanksgiving and so I'm lucky enough to travel on the busiest day of the year.

Flying into San Diego always gives me pause. You'd think in a place with almost perpetual sunshine the airline employees would be a tad bit happier. But last time I was there I got chosen for a random bag check. Which is fine but as I stood at the table, as the security lady rifled through my bag, I noticed a shelf above her head. On this random shelf were two items, a box of latex gloves and the biggest jug of Vaseline I've ever seen.

After seeing that I answered every question with a "yes ma'am," "no ma'am." And it seemed to have worked as I wasn't violated in the name of national security. But ever since then the San Diego airport has always given me the heebie geebies.

Published

It's official, I've finally been paid for writing. Sure it wont cover even one car payment but that is not the point. The editors didn't change that much but they did add a reference from wikipedia that I'm a little peeved about, if they asked I could have found a reputable source.

But I'm still pretty excited. So yeah!!

Where am I?

I live in lovely Menlo Park which I have decided is the scariest place on earth. It's so Stepford here. Apparently khaki is the uniform and every house comes with two loud children and the Eddie Bauer off-road baby stroller. I walk around downtown and expect passersby to break into choreographed song and dance numbers at any minute.

Every morning I leave around 9:30am and as I pass the local coffee shop (which of course is located right next to the world's most saccharinely sweet park that has live music for the whole family on Wednesday nights during the summer) and I notice families carrying their mocha chinos, pushing their designer baby strollers with a cute little dog running around their ankles. This wouldn't be so odd but it's a week day, who the crap is working in these families? The coffee shop is full of these happy, gap clad yuppies that are doing nothing (OK at this point one might point out my lack of a real job and the fact that I'm starting my day out at 9:30). Although I readily admit I'm probably just jealous.

Of course when I do walk around I'm pretty sure that I have "outsider" stamped on my forehead. I think maybe my unbrushed hair and clothes from yesterday and are a dead give. I went to go get bagels one Sunday morning at an early 11am, and two old people actually glared at me as I walked into the bagel cafe.

I must admit this place does not feel like home. But I like the apartment so I'll learn to live with the weirdos in the neighborhood. And the naked neighbor who's girlfriend is always yelling at him is at least entertaining.

Yummy

So the last few days I have had some weird cravings (no I'm not). Usually I crave bacon western cheese burgers, caramellos or soft serve ice creams, it changes from week to week. This week I've been craving avocados and cheddar cheese. I think it's because of the SoCal fires destroying large quantities of this year's crop, and me wondering if there will be any guacamole come Superbowl.

Sure A looked at me a little weird when I walked in with some avocados and a big block of cheese. But it was soo tasty, and I feel all good because I've had two servings of fruits and vegetables today. I am so healthy.

Musings of a grammatical idiot

In a class of about 30 students a good 80% of them have their laptops open. Of the screens that I can see all of two students actually have the assignment that the teacher is talking about up (I fall into the larger category). Most of the students are online but there are a few that are typing away in Word. The girl in front of me is checking out sales at target, the girl next to her is checking her SJSU account while the guy next to her is messing with his photographs. Why don’t we care about our education?

As I’ve returned to school after a protracted break I usually am a much better student. I try to pay attention and do my homework. But I must admit that this class is pretty boring and my friend I sit next to isn't here today, and he usually unconsciously guilts me into paying attention because he is, so my mind is wandering. It’s an editing class (which I truly need help in) and the 1000-year-old professor is trying teach us Indesign with mixed results. I think most of the students have at least messed around in the program before or they just really don’t care. Either way nobody is paying any attention to the old professor.

I think the best and worst part of the class is that it is co-taught by two professors that don’t always (never) agree on things. It’s both great and frustrating because they bicker in class about what the different editing rules are or how the A.P. guide says something. It’s funny, but on the downside I don’t know if I’m learning that much.

Guess I should have paid more attention in class as all I did was copy edit at my internship, because the copy editor is out of town and they have no one else. Oh well at least I got to read the paper two days before everyone else.

Impressively dumb

Some turn to a life of crime because they know no other way, others to try and make a fast buck. But apparently some are just to dumb to do anything else, take for instance the Mensa candidates that walked into the San Bruno Police Department this morning.

First off the two guys and a girl walk in and try to get back their impounded van, sadly they forgot to bring any proof of ownership and the van is not registered under any of their names.

Next, as the police are working behind their little Plexiglas barricade, the three start talking (loudly) about different super interesting things going on in their lives. Like how someone they know apparently owes them some money. Now I'm sitting in the middle of the room against the wall, the woman is seated to my left and the two guys are seated farther away on my right side. So their discussion is being yelled over my head, as I patiently go through the press log and try not to laugh. I'm not totally paying attention to the conversation (I do have a job to do) when I hear the woman say, in all seriousness, "Well then lets rob 'em."

I look over to the guys who are staring at her like she's suddenly sprouted a golden horn out of her forehead. "What?" She said, "It's not like they can hear us."

Genius, lets propose larceny in the Police Station.

Sadly I had to leave before I was able to hear the rest of their plan. I'm sure it would have made MacGuyver proud though.

What's your zombie plan?

Instead of putting together an intelligent presentation on Perspectives on media and our understanding of the social world, I’ve put together a list of things you should have or know incase of a zombie uprising (watching Shawn of the Dead).

1. Friends that you know wont freak out on you and randomly run away and either take something necessary with them or lead the zombie horde to your location.
2. A sharp and hopefully long object. Your gun only has a finite amount of bullets, your machete never needs reloading.
3. A gun, for when you’re surrounded and have no hope of getting away.
4. Snacks, many zombies are slow be prepared to wait them out.
5. A change of clothes, blood gets sticky and smells bad.
6. A defendable location, and as much as I’d love to say a bar they usually have big breakable windows, I’m thinking more along the lines of a secluded house or bomb shelter.
7. A get away plan, I live near the coast so I’ve always figured I’d sail into the ocean on a stolen yacht.

Although I do have a quick question why do the dead always want to eat the living? It’s not like they need the sustenance, and when they are done eating how exactly do their bodies process the meat? They’re dead so I would assume their digestive tracks don’t work anymore, does it just sit in their stomach, do really aggressive zombies that eat a lot become big and bloated? OK that wasn’t so quick.

Sticker madness

So A bought a sticker machine. He's wanted one for awhile and finally found one he wanted on eBay. I worry now for the poor cars of the Peninsula. He and Shane (OK mainly Shane) went a little crazy in SB, and from auto decorations alone you would have thought that the citizens of beautiful Santa Barbara were into some kinky stuff. And though hundreds of miles separate the two I'm a little on the worried side.

Randomness

Whenever a show can work in They Might Be Giants' Put a Little Bird House in Your Soul, you know that show is gold.

And thank you Deb for making me a tape of it, way back when, every song on the CD still makes me smile. Especially the minimum wage song, because it is so true. I'm just sad I lost that tape and so I don't have it anymore.

I will forever whistle in the dark.

The polite thing to do

I had an interview for an internship last week. I never know how those things go. In general I get kind of nervous and over-smile, I always wonder if the interviewer thinks I'm just really happy to be there or if they think I'm going to eat them. And usually I don't eat before hand so I could use a snack, not that human meat is an option or anything.

Anyways they said they would let us know back by that weekend. Sunday came and went with no response. When Tuesday rolled around I figured I didn't get it and that they just forgot about me. But then I also realized I had never sent a thank you note after the interview. It was almost a week, was that way too late to send one now? I wasn't sure about the etiquette of a late thank you letter, actually I'm not really up on any etiquette. But I figured I might want to try and write for them in the future so I should do the polite thing and send one in. So at about midnight last night I finally sent it in.

This morning I woke up and saw that I had a message in my inbox from the editor. It was in reply to my extremely brief and uninformative thank you note, it read, and I quote, "Can you come over to the office this afternoon to talk about scheduling?"

Now I of course assume this to mean that he thought I was someone else and that he was replying to the wrong email. But not one to let an opportunity pass I quickly write back letting him know I would come over. The rest of the morning I considered how I would take the rejection when they realized I wasn't the person they were looking for. Hopefully they would feel bad and I could parley that into them letting me write something.

And then I got a call around three. It was the editor letting me know that he couldn't make the meeting, crap I wasn't even going to get the rejection in person. But no, he wanted to reschedule for tomorrow and that I had gotten the job. That really wasn't what I had expected, so I tried to reorder my thoughts and sound coherent on the phone. I think it worked since I'm talking to him tomorrow.

But now I wonder, would I have gotten the position if I hadn't sent a thank you note? Or was it all just funny timing?

Stupid dreams

I've heard that dreams are supposed to be unconscious desires that you can't accept during your waking hours. Or that they are a way for your subconscious to work out issues. And I have to hope and pray that this is untrue because last night I had the weirdest dream, and don't know how it fits into either of those scenarios. Of course it is quickly fading into the ether but here's what I can remember of it.

For some odd reason I was with "Way of the Dragon" bad guy, Chuck Norris (OK fine, and Walker Texas Ranger star), and we were trying to get away from something. As the dream goes on I realize that Chuck and I are an item (ew), and that the longer I'm with him the fatter he is getting. Before I wake up poor Chuck is morbidly obese and now I'm trying to get away from him.

I wake up thinking what the hell? Chuck Norris? And now I'm just disturbed, I don't usually remember my dreams and this is the one my mind chooses to replay? And why couldn't I have chosen a cute guy to dream of? And is it wrong to try and get away from a guy if he's starting to visibly inflate?

Again, Chuck Norris, there is something wrong with me.

Pointless or cool?

I saw this on Gizmodo and at first glance thought it was pretty cool. It's the VinylDisc and on one side it contains 70 minutes of music on a CD, the other side is a vinyl record. Of course it only plays back three minutes so it's more a novelty but the idea is pretty cool. This is brought to you by those quirky Germans at Optimal Media Productions and they even have an English band, Fightstar, signed up (although they are only releasing 3,000 albums). I'd love to see it but sadly I have no record player and I don't tend to buy CDs anymore. But it looks cool and I'm always sold on packaging.


On a side note how many times did I use the word cool in a small little paragraph? Note to self: buy thesaurus.

Modern myths

When I was little my mom would read me bedtime stories, my favorite was Perseus and Medusa. I used to think that "Clash of Titans" was the best movie ever made, and I almost became a Classics major at UCSB. I always thought Enkidu got screwed and found it funny that every culture seems to have some type of Cinderella story. I've always loved mythology, any type from any region.

So while doing a paper for 290 I found it interesting that many scholars argue that the media are the new myth makers. Myths aren't just fantastic stories from the ancient world, instead they are stories told to help maintain the social order. They don't have to be fiction, instead current mythology explains the unexplainable, brings reasons to events, and helps maintain the status quo.

You can find the main myths in papers and broadcast news all over the country. The article I read mainly looked at the New York Times after September 11. The four main myths used were the end of innocence, the victim, the hero and a foreboding future. The victim could be you if circumstances were different, the hero (emergency workers mainly) have all the best qualities of society and are fearless leaders, in the end of innocence the utopia you once lived in is gone forever and you'll have to get used to a completely different normal, and a foreboding future warns you of strife to come and that this isn't the end of the pain and sacrifice. You see the hero and the victim in news a lot, but the end of innocence and a foreboding future not so often.

The one that I found rather disturbing was a foreboding future. It sets the society up for a future that they know is going to be hard. In the case of 9/11 it warns the reader that tough times are coming, that everyone had to be vigilant, that we had to be careful because an attack could come from anywhere. It got people ready for America to invade Afghanistan. A news paper primed the public for war.

I'm sure it has been done before and will be done again, but I don't know how I feel about that.

The myths that the Times created helped people deal with an act that seemed senseless. It helped them cope with loss, heal and come together as a nation. Mythology gives people a sense of belonging, you can relate to the story, you recognize the archetypes and know what to expect. Mythology isn't dead it's alive and well in journalism.


*Lule, Jack (2002). Myth and terror on the editorial page: The New York Times responds to Sept. 11. 2001.

Speaking of lame, oh wait

I've heard of banning books, and movies but never parts of speech. Apparently Brazil's Federal District Governor Jose Roberto Arruda has banned the use of present participles. Ok he didn't ban them from the entire country just government documents, because of inefficiency. That's great, basically anything ending in 'ing.' I thought our government got bogged down in frivolous pursuits but this wins. good thing Brazil has no other problems to worry about.

Rules of Debate

Seminar classes can sometimes be enjoyable because of the debates they produce. If you like to argue they can be rather enjoyable. But some people don't realize that there are some niceties that must be observed.

Ok when debating someone here are a few of the lamest things you can do:

1. Pull figures out of your ass, yes I could do this too but I’m only saying what I know to be fact, your 89% of randomness fact should be backed up by a source.
2. Don’t start off sentences with “as you know…” it’s manipulative and lame, no I don’t know that that’s why we’re arguing about it (especially if you are using it every other sentence)
3. Use hypothetical situations, if it hasn’t happened don’t try to assume you know what would happen, you can argue what ifs until you die but it doesn’t mean anything.
4. Try to win an argument with volume alone, this should be an intelligent conversation not a shouting match. Being louder does not make you right.
5. Try to form your arguments, they should be coherent, it shouldn’t take you an hour to say no you’re wrong. After two minutes cue the music.
6. Yes we know that you are the most informed person about every single issue, but if you are in a seminar setting you personally don’t have to comment on every single issue, let other people have a say.
7. If race or sex have nothing to do with the issue, don’t bring them up.
8. And the metric system is just plain better.

Congratulations!

I want to send out my congratulations to Jerry Roberts who will be receiving The PEN Society's First Amendment award on November 6th at a dinner at the Beverly Hills Hotel.

Former editor of the Santa Barbara News-Press, before the meltdown, and current publisher of the Daily Nexxus, UCSB's daily paper. An amazing guy and a wonderful teacher. I took a class with him last fall and really enjoyed it.

So I wanted to say congratulations and good luck with McCaw.

And come to find out the smell of eggs makes both of us think we're in trouble, yeah something in common.

Wow, just wow

So I've done my best bit of procrastinating ever. I admit I'm a procrastinator but I haven't raised it to the fine art that some others have, until today. tomorrow, no wait today I have a miniature literature (ha that rhymes!) review and presentation due in my MCOM 290 class and I still can't even bring myself to read the studies. It's 10 minutes to 3:00 a.m. and I'm fooling around on the Internet. It's almost as if I'm seeing what kind of grade I can get on a shitty paper. And tomorrow, crap no today, I will find out. The presentation has me a little worried, not enough to do anything about it but I guess we'll see how it goes. I should really take this more seriously, technically this is my most important class of the semester. Also least favorite.

I should have just gone back and gotten another bachelor's degree, I love my undergraduate classes.

And why isn't anyone up right now?

Oops

The main joy of grad school is the obscene amount of reading. Of course it really doesn't help that I tend to wait until the last minute to do my reading every week. This week not only do I have a copious amount of reading but I also have a mini literature review to do and a presentation in class. And yesterday I started to gather all my reading materials together so that I could pile it together and stare at it mournfully before putting it off for another day, when I found that I didn't have the main book that I have to do my presentation on.

Well sure it's half way through the semester and I probably should have purchased all the material for class already but I've been distracted. So I headed down to San Jose to purchase the required $80 book. And come to find out the bookstore closes at 3:00 p.m., it was 3:02. So of course I pounded on the door until someone came by. And then I had to beg and plead and still he wouldn't let me in, and instead went and got his manager.

So I'm waiting outside of the student center, dear god it smells like carnies and death out there, and finally some chick comes out. She looks at me and tells me in her most condescending voice, "I'm sorry but we've already been closed for five minutes."

Shit, what was I thinking? Five minutes! She probably could have written the book I need in such an expansive amount of time. So I have to fight down the sarcasm open the eyes really wide and beg and plead again.

Finally with an audible sigh she lets me in. I run down the stairs to the MCOM section and start searching frantically. I stare at the empty section where my book is supposed to be, it takes a few seconds for reality to process, the book isn't there. As I walk out of the store the chick glares at me so I wave and smile.

I grab my friends and walk over to Robert's books store, which is also closed. I console myself with some nacho fries dipped in yummy fat at Iguanas. I then head to a party and try to forget about the massive F I will receive on Monday.

Sunday rolls around and I decide to check out the library, hoping and praying they can help me out before I'm royally screwed. I get into my car turn the key and nothing happens. Ok not nothing, the tachometer and odometer start shaking like crazy. Wonderful I get out of the car, check the fuses and realize I'm screwed. Another week with Caltrain.

So I steal A's Blazer and head to the library. And nope they don't have the book either, but I was able to find it online for full price. So that kind of blows but at least I can do my assignment after I'm done slacking off. Did I mention I have about 200 pages to read before the library closes?

If you don't want to hear the answer, should you not ask the question? Even if you are asking yourself?

Name Calling

I’m weird, if I get along with someone I’m usually mean to him or her. Not viciously mean but pretty sarcastic. I like arguing, especially with someone that can hold their own; you don’t want to argue with someone if you know it will reduce them to tears.

One of my favorite antagonists was a guy I used to work with, he was a cool guy that was fun to argue with because he always had some random facts, usually gleaned from animal planet, that could shut me up pretty quick. That and he also liked to argue, about everything.

The reason he is my favorite because once when we were sparring, and after some heated words he called me bellicose. It sounds like such a pretty word, almost a compliment, for a second I was flattered. But no, it means hostile and war like.

The use of the word bellicose makes me think of warlike as in Boudica the Celtic queen who led her soldiers against the Romans and killed herself before being caught. I like this because visually I am anything but a warrior. I’m small and clumsy and I put fear into the hearts of nothing.

I’ve always been small, I was picked on in school and sarcasm became my defense. But I never felt that I was a fighter, I felt like I hid behind words, I always felt small.

But for a moment, to a guy who was much bigger than I, I was an adversary on an equal playing field. And I could hold my own.

Itching and books

Third day taking the train. It was a lot more relaxed almost enjoyable, I was able to do my homework on the way there and I didn't have to take the bus back as Chris was kind enough to give me a ride to the station. I grabbed a free Metro and settled down to read while I zipped along. I get about half way when I see a little black dot jumping on my leg. Yep I was getting attacked by fleas.

After twitching in disgust I got up and moved to another seat. It looked clean but now my suspicions were roused. The last half of my journey I spent constantly checking my seat for little invaders and brushing at my arms and legs. I was very happy to get off that train.

After a lovely trip on Caltrain I decided to get a book at Keplar's. The man working behind the counter had multiple items of flair, but I knew I couldn't mention it because he looked so serious. I don't think he'd even get the reference. How is it that a bunch of middle aged men work at a bookstore? And they all seemed so serious, lighten up you work in a book store, that's like my dream job although I'm pretty sure I would soon be fired for fondling the merchandise.

And other things that smell like urine

It’s 9:30 and I’m waiting at the San Jose Caltrain station until 10:30 p.m. for the next train. And I realize how much I miss my car. You would think that growing up with a father who is a bus driver I would have a little bit more appreciation for mass transit. When I was a little girl I always looked forward to take-your-daughter-to-work-days. I would swing on the bars and run up and down the aisles for hours. The passengers would tell me stories and then my dad would take me out to get an ice cream before we went home.

Now I get out of school around 8:30p.m. catch the 9:00 bus that gets me to the train station two minutes to late to catch the 9:10 train so instead I wait for another hour to catch the last train of the night at 10:30. The other riders are no longer smiling at me and telling me stories; instead everyone avoids eye contact and composes their faces in a carefully blank expression. All I want to do is get home and now I won’t be there till well after 11.

These last few days have killed the joy of public transport for me. It used to be so nice to ride the train into the city knowing I wouldn’t have to worry about parking. But now I will remember this boring night where there are only three other people in the station and they are talking in Spanish so I can’t listen in.

And I’m not so sure that Menlo Park feels like home. I’m not sure what it is but there is something missing there. I like the apartment but, I don’t know, it’s just not the same as Santa Barbara. I feel more connected with San Jose but that’s just because I spend all of my time there. I’m sure that after a few months I’ll like it better.

But I don’t know how long I’ll be there either. I’ve kind of gotten itchy feet, which I know A wont appreciate, although I’ve always had them I’ve just hidden them since I’ve been with A. After school I think I’d like to move to New York and live there for a few years but again A wont go for that. But that’s where all the magazines are. True a writer can write anywhere but to work on a magazine you have to be where that magazine is, very few people can survive off a freelance budget.

Oh the urine thing, mainly that was just the bus on the way over to Caltrain, how does a whole bus smell like pee?

More Bitching

I think I might have taken on a little too much. This semester I've decided to take two grad classes and two undergrad classes. MCOM 290 is going to completely kick my ass. The second day of class the teacher has boxes of paper brought in. Then she basically hands us each two reams of paper and lets us know that including our text books we will reading these as well. Oh joy. I mean other students have told me that this is the worst class I will be taking, but I just never realized how very wrong the class is. I think it will be one of those that as long as I pass without much scarring I will consider myself lucky. Of course if I could plan my time better the class would probably not be that hard. But I haven't even come up with a general idea for my thesis, and I'm supposed to come up with an intelligent question with which to base a thousand (slight exaggeration) page paper on?

And Access magazine is going to be one of those beloved pains. I love the class but it's going to be a large time investment and I think it's going to give me a decent headache. But it should be more than worth it. And yet I'm already scared that it might turn out to be horrible, it's hard to not try and take control of everything. But in the end if I did that it would probably turn out even worse than if I hold myself back and let people do their own jobs.

And now I really should get back to my homework, as painful as it is.

A Good R Movie is Not a Good PG-13 Movie

Ok I'm actually a pretty bug fan of sequels. I like the fact that a new Halloween comes out regularly or that ever 10 years you can expect another Romero movie (please let him live for at least 30 more years). But what makes me angry is when they make a sequel to an action/horror movie that was originally gory and cuss filled and then tone it down to reach a larger audience. Currently I am watching Die Hard and I loved the sequels (ok the second one wasn't that amazing but it still was good times), and the fourth one had so much potential and then they go and make it PG-13. To me that is a slap in the face to the fans who have faithfully watched over the years. Take for example Alien vs. Predator, which could have been awesome but instead they changed it to PG-13 and had the cameras cut away every time they killed someone, Boo!

Productivity at its finest

So today was the day at the magazine where we pick feature articles, and although it started off promising I think it kind of degenerated from there. Mainly we just ran out of time but it felt at the end we were just grabbing at any idea and throwing a writer at it. I guess I shouldn't worry too much as I feel we have a strong six or seven articles and if those work then I wont have to worry about the other ones as much. And that's the other thing that worries me, if we over-book the magazine and all of our authors come through how do we tell some of them that their article got cut? I put a lot of time into mine last semester and I would have been devastated if my editor told me they were no longer going to use it. Although if we have a website we could put them online, which I think they did last year, I'll have to look into that.

The Art of Unpacking

So A and I have been in our new apartment for almost two months. And we've been pretty pathetic in the unpacking department. Although we haven't had many weekends here its still no excuse, the truth of the matter is that we are both just lazy. So the only way we unpack is if someone comes to visit us. Thankfully (kind of) we've had a mad rush of people this month so we're doing better. Though we do still have so many boxes and I'm not sure what is in them or if we need them, because we've been doing pretty well without them so far. And A's parents are coming up tonight so we got a little more done but after tonight we don't have anyone visiting until the middle of October. So I'm pretty sure the unpacking will come to a dead halt after this weekend. But that doesn't mean I want anyone to come visit, I want a few weekends to myself. Of course it would also be nice to have my closet be full of clothes instead of piled high with boxes.

Me not write so pretty one day

So one of the reasons that i started this blog was to write more often and work on my grammar. But now that I'm taking an editing class I find myself fighting against learning what I was so desperately trying to improve. The grammar book is sitting next to me, beckoning me to open it and instead I stare passively at it and write in my blog instead. Oh well I'll try again at a later date.

It's 12:30 and I find myself easily distracted right now. Instead of doing my homework or going to sleep I find myself watching 'Sin City,' gratuitous violence helps relax me (I have issues). I sit here thinking that the Oscars need a few more categories like best action or comedy, not that 'Sin City' would win for either but it's late and I'm tired so my mind wanders. Anyways for those of us that really don't give a shit about gay cowboys eating pudding or people kissing in the rain, adding a few more categories for best action sequence or best fight would possibly make me want to watch it. Ok it wouldn't but still those actors should get some recognition for fun movies and not just the mellow dramatic crap that is normally nominated. Although I do want to add this caveat: I have horrible taste in movies.

And I'm Back

Well I'm proud of myself as I didn't take a whole year to republish, instead I only took 7 months. Thankfully I don't believe anyone reads this so I'm ok.

I'm at my second semester at SJSU and it looks to be an interesting one. I'm pretty sure I'm taking on too much but oh well. Not only am I taking two grad classes (and 290 looks to be a right bitch(not the teacher, the class)), but I'm also working on the magazine which should suck up the rest of my time. On top of that the editor called from SMDJ so I started that up again. At least I'm not working (ok occasionally but nothing definite).

Tonight instead of doing my homework I am checking out my snazzy new printer, the HP5280 all -in-one. Which so far is pretty neat, I've been scanning in old pictures and they seem to be coming out decently. I wish their photo edit had more functionality but I can do serious edits in photo shop. And I must say wow I was a little picture crazy in college and I always slightly possessed in pictures.

Cold SB

Its been freezing in SB, literally, I kid you not. It gets down into the twenties at night. Now I know that anyone from out of state scoffs at temperatures in the twenties, commenting that they walk around with shorts on at those temperatures, that it seems almost balmy. But I am used to a certain type of temperature and what I've been getting lately is definitely not it.

And as its my last week in SB it seems that we are eating out more often than not. Which I love eating out, but lately I've noticed a rather evil trend in restaurants. As I walk in from the freezing cold I notice that its not that much warmer in the restaurants, looking around I notice that most of the patrons have their coats on. As a service based industry this seems a little messed up, shouldn't they be trying to make the customer more comfortable, or do they figure a slightly cold patron won't linger over their tiramisu? Restaurants are supposed to be warm and cozy, a welcoming environment where one can relax and enjoy their meal. Instead I sit their trying not to spill on the scarf that I am required to wear. Is it just that not enough people are complaining about it, can the managers not see the preponderance of jackets, or am I the only one that is cold and everyone else just enjoys wearing parkas to dinner?