Tonight in class we watched Dick Tracy. Big deal. What I really want to talk about is the choice of music on campus. No, this is a good thing. I go to a particular place on campus for dinner before class. The food is good and I usually pick a quiet seat close to the back. The music they play is a satellite station of music from the nineties. Well, I spent about seven and a half years of the nineties pursuing some form of education, so hearing these songs just reminds me of the good ole days. Only my campus didn't have a dining option this delicious, and they definitely did not serve beer.

So, I like Magic Realism. A lot. This book isn't magic realism but I felt the need to emphasize that point, mainly so you'll understand that I have no problem suspending my disbelief, but there comes a point when you just can't suspend it any more because your arms are tired and you're shouting "oh for fuck's sake, come on!" and your eyes have popped out of their sockets from all the rolling they've been doing.

So there seems to be this modern movement in literature that could be called Annoying Randomism. I'm sure there's a literary term out there but since I'm an outsider and not an intellectual in the least I'm going to call it as I see it. I'm sure I could list several criteria for Annoying Randomism but it all boils down to this: it seems like it was pulled out of the author's ass and covered up with flowery prose. similar to that feeling when you know someone is lying to you but they're trying so hard that on the inside you just can't get over it and you have to give them credit for trying but damned if you don't want to call them on it, but you won't because it's just too much man, too much!

I get it. We don't want to grow up. I don't want to grow up. I want a TMX Elmo for crying outside. No one wants to grow up and our generation is the first to see just how responsible we can be without ever having to grow up. My biggest issue with this book is that all the stories are told from a child/young adult perspective, but I haven't met a single young person with language skills of that caliber.

Labels: books

Quick mid morning post before I head out of here to do some stuff somewhere else.

1. i had this crazy dream. won't share the details other than my Grandma was dying and I was instructed to take her to this Gerontologist who was essentially going to turn her into a Grandma Cyborg. I was trying to save her but she wasn't in her right mind and my father and his brothers had already made the decision.

2. Mom calls me while I'm in the shuttle lot about to walk in to work. She says she's got a surprise for me so I wait, and the surprise was three sausage balls and three peanut butter balls! My favorites. They actually lasted until I got to my desk which is amazing.

3. I didn't dress up as 1993 me after all, I have lots of walking and it might rain and the docs have cracks in the soles that let in rainwater. Also, everyone would as what I was dressed up as and I didn't want to explain over and over and over again. I also nearly came as Little Edie from Grey Gardens but again, lots of explaining. However, in two years that will be the best costume. A revolutionary costume if you will.

WOOOO!

Ok, here's the story. Madame Mandy is my ghost story friend. i like to hear ghost stories, especially true ones, she likes to tell ghost stories, especially true ones. I was dismayed that I had missed every bit of a Scariest Places on Earth marathon, which means another year for me to forget that the family channel does this every year.

So we've been meaning to take a ghost tour around town for some time now. IT seems that Carnton Plantation has a ghost tour a few times a year. I really wanted to take this because the house was used as a Confederate hospital during the ultra-bloody Battle of Franklin and with all that energy there had to be good stories. Sure enough, there were. Over the course of two hours we toured the house and the cemetary and heard stories both touching and terrifying.

None of my pictures really turned out that well. There's this one and a couple of polaroids but nothing at all spectral.

It should be noted that I don't believe I've ever had a ghost encounter. There are stories that some may consider as such but I have written them off as tricks of the mind or that sort of thing. Certainly nothing full on when I'm in full consciousness. This is why I love hearing ghost stories, especially from people who I believe to be credible (like Mandy).

Anyway, feel free to send me real ghost stories if you have them. Like I said, I really do enjoy hearing, or in this case reading, them.

My halloween costume will be me circa 1993. No joke. I still have this crazy hideous dress I lived in most of senior year, plus my green docs, plus this gigantic green cardigan I pretty much wore every day from 8th or 9th on through graduation.

Labels: pictures

The camera I bought yesterday at the estate sale has FILM IN IT.

So straight from the Plowhaus to the Parentshaus to pick up the purse which my mom had lined for me. Sparkly and shiny! I didn't finish the matching scarf, it was too short and I didn't have time to try over. I used to work with the little girl's mom and am now a classmate of the girl's dad. I've been to each of her on-campus birthdays since year 1 and now we're at year 4. Good times, hope she likes the purse.

Oh, the blue tape on the finger is due to a cut I suffered at the Day of the Dead workshop. No bandaids so I grabbed a chunk of butcher block paper and some blue masking tape to stop it.

Labels: pictures

East Nashville means many things: good music, scones, armed robbery, food, and hipsters. Oh, and Plowhaus Artists' Cooperative. Good times. It's Day of the Dead time. See the picture? I made that. Why is it a crappy camera phone picture? Because right now as I type it's over hanging on a wall at Plowhaus. No, it's not in the gallery proper, it's in the workshop space/gift shop, but hey, it's a first. All workshopees were invited to hang finished pieces. Better pictures to come once I pick it up tomorrow, tonight is the opening party. If you live in Nashville and you don't go see this exhibit you are stupid. It's beautiful.

Oh, and the scones. Oh, the scones. Before I made it over there I stopped at the delightful Sweet 16th for a sack of scones. They had to put them in special lead bags because otherwise they'd float right out the car window. I'm going to compile a list of how to spend a day in Nashville, and that's #1. Yes, I did get doggie biscuits too.

AND before that an estate sale. Wow. Samantha, if only you had been there--lovely vintage dresses all over. Mom said this woman was talented at the textile arts as her handmade garments were beautifully made. Of course, the zippers needed replacing, but such things happen. We're talking delicate, beautifully made items. One hand made linen evening dress had STAYS. Handmade stays! This was in Old Money Meade in a house with a huge basement and a magnificent attic. I picked up a flawless vintage cashmere sweater (it will be sold on ebay later on) and a nice 8mm Brownie camera which may or may not work, but it at least looks cool.

Labels: pictures

I saw this while having fun on the livejournal most recent photos feed. post yours in the comments or on your own blog (and if I don't know where your blog is, point me there)

1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button

Opening Credits: Sometimes by Nancy Boy

Waking Up: No Aloha (live) by The Breeders

First Day At School: Hard Charger by Porno for Pyros (so far this movie is taking place in the mid to late 90s)

Falling In Love: Wanderin' by Chris Isaak

Fight Song: I Melt With You by Modern English (shouldn't this be the falling in love song?)

Breaking Up: Lump by The Presidents of the United States of America (you know, I was thinking it would be a Carter Administration song)

Prom: Six-String Improvisation by The Monkees

Life: Let's Get Back by No Doubt (I think these songs may be a little out of order)

Mental Breakdown: Thanks For The Medicare by Estelle Getty

Driving: Flowin' Prose by the Beastie Boys

Flashback: Why Not Smile (alternate version) by REM (the actual thing that first came up was What Means to Start a New Day by Ben Harper but it was just an intro to a song)

Getting back together: Love to Love by the Monkees

Wedding: All I Want for Christmas is You by Katia Keres

Birth of Child: Topaz by the B-52s

Final Battle: Fight Like a Brave by the Red Hot Chili Peppers

Death Scene: Turn the Beat Around by Vickie Sue Robinson

Funeral Song: San Francisco (You've Got Me) by the Village People

End Credits: Let's Get It On by Marvin Gaye

Ok, this show, Class of 3000, may be the finest show ever to appear on the Cartoon Network (and before you ask, yes, I am taking into account Wait Til Your Father Gets Home). What the world needs now is more Andre Benjamin.

So I bought a swim suit this evening. I paid a premium price too, considering it's not exactly peak swimsuit buying time. But it's black and modest (no, not skirt modest, not panel modest). I took swim lessons as a child but never retained a bit of it. I was later taught to swim in a hotel pool by a friend who was on, let's just say, a stimulant (no, I did not partake, thank you, I just like swimming). I retained almost nothing. So when I swim it's just a bunch of flailing and ruckus.

Labels: pictures

A few things to discuss

• I take back what I said about Studio 60. I can't put that much effort into a television program. There's sooo many words, I just can't keep up. I'm already invested in a show with a large cast, I can't do another one. Also, 30 Rock has excellent characters and hilarious moments but just doesn't cut it. I want to like it so bad.


• I absolutely love the ymca. love. They've got the TVs on the equipment! Earl was a rerun so I switched over to Ugly Betty which was adorable but is an hour. I couldn't manage another half hour so I only got to see a bit of it. They have a lovely mural of a rock wall but no actual rock wall. Will they add one? I can only hope.


• I wish I were more ballsy. I would love to do more urban/rural ruin exploration. Also, I'd need company and none of my local friends seem into it. I've been seeing all these lovely ruin pictures on the livejournal random image generator.

Vive le....um, how do you say Tennessee in French? Sacre bleu! This is the cover of yesterday's City Paper, a free daily.

Also, in case you hadn't heard, there is a certain ad by the RNC that is really, really insipid. Ok, there are a few ads by the RNC that are insipid, but one in particular is drawing national attention. See, in it a young blonde asks HFJr to call her. The complaint is that this commercial is specifically meant to piss off those who disapprove of interracial relationships.

Labels: pictures

I've got a lot to do over the next week. It's going to be rough going, but I'll make it. I may even take a day off next week to get some of it done. But I'm thinking this may have to be my last Tennessee winter. I'm so cold, and it's not even that cold yet. Highs in the low 50s, which is far from icy tundra, but still, I shiver ALL the time and it's absolutely killing me. I can't imagine what it'll be like when it actually gets cold. And I find it so difficult to walk the .75 mile from my car to the workplace so I'm taking the shuttle which makes me feel so lazy.

But we're here to talk about other stress inducing things.

Before Saturday I have to finish a scarf and buy lining for a purse I knitted.
I have a Day of the Dead workshop at a local artists' cooperative.
I have to present the purse and scarf to the young lady for whom it was knitted.
Some time before Tuesday I have to write a paper about pinstripes.
I have to watch the movies in which the pinstripes appear. I also have to watch Blade Runner.

My friend Sal is a Libra. She celebrated her birthday all during the sign of Libra, which ended yesterday. You know what started yesterday? Scorpio did, bitches! That's me. No, I will not be one of those who goes on and on about her birthday, I've done that in years past and have only set myself up to be let down. I'd love to be like that but so many of my friends are scattered by the seven winds (ok, sorry, won't happen again, you are well familiar with my terrible poetry, and if not, good). So I'll be content with the fact that I've almost lived thirty one years and I've got good people.

So the point is I voted yesterday. And i joined the local YMCA, which is excellent.

So here are some pictures I took with two different polaroid cameras:

Labels: pictures

pow pow!

I suppose I should blog on this, but I'm not happy with the outcome of project runway. I mean, the winner has his own line already! Uli could've used it more. Michael might have except his fashion week line sucked horribly. But anyway, hopefully there will be a new season very soon, what with spring fashion week coming up. Carry on!

I stood in line for a half hour at Divorcee Acres Mall in order to vote. We had a few amendments and stuff but the biggies were Senate (taking over Frist's seat), Governor (there's an incumbent there), and a measure to define marriage as solely existing between a man and a woman. Because it's really the government's job to determine who you do and do not commit to stand beside for the rest of your life (no, it shouldn't be--I find that sarcasm doesn't translate well over the internet).

I voted in what used to be an abercrombie and fitch. I prefer to remember A&F the way it was when the mall first opened: lots of plaid and khakis, lots of books. In fact, the plaid carpet is still there. Now it's just a monument to nubile flesh exposure.

I bought my condo almost four years ago for around 80K. Similar units in my neighborhood are now selling for around 100K. Any realtors want to take up my cause?

via Fark: Ten reasons why Target is better than Walmart.

Indeed.

The trees were not orange yesterday.

Labels: pictures

Maybe one day I'll stop blogging about this, but these cameras make me so happy.

This little thing is growing up through my deck. Mom says it's going to be an oak tree, I say not so much, but she is urging me to pull it up before it cracks my condo's foundation. I say I'll probably be out of this condo before that happens.

When I showed my neighbors the picture they liked it, and I told them what mom said about the tree/foundation, and then what I replied (you know, about being out of the condo and all?). They understood this to mean I was moving. No, just that trees take a long time to grow and I'll probably be no longer in this world.

Labels: pictures

Class has switched nights this week and we're in an engineering building with cool elevators.

Labels: pictures

Why am I so mother fucking itchy? Seriously. I'm itchy all over. Constantly. I can't stop scratching. It's bad. Plus my nails are getting to that point where they break off easily so I have no nails to scratch with. No, I haven't changed soap, lotion, detergent, or fabric softener.

I just finished watching Mysterious Skin. There's something about Gregg Araki movies that I find repellant and fascinating at the same time.

I got my Polaroid 250. hooray! IT is in a leather case, comes with flash, a working battery, and all documentation. Here's the problem--it smells so bad. Imagine old cheese that was stored in an ass which was in turn stored in a car in Louisiana in the summer. Bad. I'm going to have to get rid of the fancy case because hooboy, does it stink. But add this to the one my mommmy bought me at an estate sale, plus the one I got at the thrift store. Three polaroid cameras. Luckily they still sell film for all three of them. The Spectra takes the most beautiful photos. THe 600 has a zoom feature. the 250 will be used to do emulsion transfers. Pictures all over. Mostly Denny.

>

• Dr Gay wants a pupusa. Will someone take care of that for me, please?


• I saw a guy trying to rob an exxon. I was at my car at a busy street corner and saw a dude walking out with two half cases of beer and a 12 pack of pepsi. he then started to run, then dropped them, and then was stopped by a police officer.


• Making some shirts, see dino image over there. If you want one, holler. shirt and ink color are negotiable, please email me if interested. Price will be pretty low, will let you know when I order. It depends on how many. They'll only be offered until the end of october, so get on it. comanche dot red at gmail dot com.


• This morning we participated in a breakfast with the University Chancellor. I did not get to ask my question during group discussion time so as we milled around before he left I asked him something about evening/weekend classes, it's really not important. Then he tells me that my last name is common in Utah, and that it is a common Mormon name. i honestly had no idea, but this is the sort of thing I'm quite interested in given my fascination with mormon missionaries. So should I start a new life as a Mormon gal my old testament first name combined with my last name and my giant teeth should allow me to fit in most nicely. I fear, however, that I will be betrayed by the fact that I am neither blonde nor am I particularly cheerful or friendly. I suppose I should mention that out Chancellor is a Mormon from Utah, which explains why he commented on it.

Labels: pictures

Ok, if you've come this far in the series and you're the sort who turns to the end of a book to see how it ends before you get there then DON'T with this book. If you do that, you might as well not read any of the series. Seriously, you're cheating yourself. Dipshit.

Labels: books

Hannah Grace, put that down.
Hannah Grace, come here.
Hannah Grace, cut that out.
Hannah Grace, get over here.
Hannah Grace, stop it.
Hannah Grace, no
Hannah Grace, for fuck's sake, knock it off.

Thanks for those who sent your well wishes vis a vis my accidental double post with a somewhat somber tone. I go through this every year, I always make it through, I see no reason this should be different. Well, it's slightly different, i am very happy for those who remain through these times.

Additionally, it's cold. I say this for a reason: it's cold and I park in a lot slightly less than one full mile from my comfy office. There are regular, prompt, warm shuttles that take me where I want to go but I decided if there was not one at the stop nearest my space I would walk in, and I'll take this moment to note that i walk in almost every day, even in cold. Not in rain, though. So I pull up, and much to my chagrin there's no shuttle. So, bundled in my winter coat (yes, I broke it out. AND turned the heat on last night. shut up already.) and winter hat and right as I started walking out of nowhere shows up the very shuttle I would take. Except that I am firm in my resolve and think to myself that since I've already made the decision I should follow through, which I do.

So I walk. It's cold. I formulate in my head a possible thesis for my next paper (involves the use of ambiguous costumery to establish the timelessness of a story) and as I get close to the coffee stand where I buy my morning muffin and occasional short skinny hot chocky I notice that a certain co-employee is standing near the entrance. I get some mixed feelings, as he is an incredibly nice and positive man who has inspired a recent spirtual journey for me but at the same time is a bit of a talker and i'm running a little late. Oh, he's a fantastic human being and was on the news recently (I should link to the story, and perhaps I shall later today), he is also a good friend of my dad's. So here we are.

I recently helped the man with some work related incentive stuff (you jump through three rather simple hoops and you get $20 extra a month for the following calendar year) for which he is eternally grateful. So I speak to this nice man who buys my muffin and chocky. and I realize that this, combined with y'all, makes me an incredibly lucky lady, and I'm not as lonely as I sometimes think I am.

God bless y'all. I'm not just saying that. i mean it. I'd name you each individually but you know who you are and some of you favor anonymity, which I completely understand. There are certain personal journal blogs I read regularly which I won't name, and the people are complete strangers to me, people I've never met in real life. I guess this is my voyeuristic side, but i also like to think that it illustrates the universal struggle of day to day life. This is good and bad: good because I'm not alone in this, bad because I'm not as unique as I'd like to think.

Additionally, today is Friday the 13th. This means the final book of the Series of Unfortunate Events comes out today. I've got it on hold at the library, just waiting for it to come in. It also means D. Striker tonight, which I'm still not sure I'm going to attend but would really, really like to.

This may show up twice. consider yourself warned.

So I’m an A- grad student so far, such that it is. I am pleased, I thought I’d get worse. Now I have another due in slightly less than three weeks. Any suggestions? This one’s on costumes.

Sorry for the lack of bloggety, but you’ll get a podcast in the next couple of days, I just have to edit it. Good times, good times.

I’m kind of in a down mood, I suppose it’s seasonal affective disorder getting a head start on the depression season. Whatever. I think it’s more to do with the loneliness, but more on that when the podcast is posted.

Until then, I’m not really sure what to post about. Nothing too exciting going on, nothing new happening. Well, with me, anyway. I got some bad news with a tiny glimmer of hope in it regarding one of my two surviving grandparents. I’m keeping precious things precious here so if you want to know, drop me a line.

I suppose I could answer questions. If you’ve got any, email them to me or post them in the comments. Posting them in the comments allows you a measure of anonymity, but more personal questions can be emailed to me (and, to answer, no, I won’t post the name of the inquisitor).

I suppose I should post my email. Leah at schmoovenet dot com

YEsterday and today I am in class learning some stuff. I'm at an offsite location and my class starts later than work normally does. this means a trip to the east side for delicious scones and other baked goods. Oh man. You have no idea how amazing these are. Amazing enough that I'm giving up a little bit of sleep to drive about a half hour to get them. Wow.

The puppies (and momma doggy) were in the back seat of the car next to me at the place where class is happening. I want one so bad, I'm tempted to leave a note with my number on it. They won't get too big, maybe a little bigger than flashica but not much. Right now they're so tiny that their eyes aren't open and mommy is still licking their little puppy privates so they'll go potty.

Labels: pictures

I'll start with network TV. Heroes is lots of fun. After an eclipse normal people are found to have relaly cool supernatural abilities. There's an adorable Japanese man who can freeze, bend, travel through, and otherwise manipulate time. This chick who looks like my gyno blacks out and apparently does violent things and arranges for bitchin cars and stuff. Two brothers can hover and fly. An artist sees into the future, but only on heroin benders. A cop can hear others' thoughts, but he gets arrested by the psychic girl from Carnivale. A cheerleader who feels no pain and heals quickly. And there's other stuff, like a serial killer, a hot Indian man, but you can just watch, whore.

Dr Gay loves Ugly Betty. I'll let him elaborate on that. It's on at the same time as Earl so I don't get to see it but I fully intend to watch it during the summer.

Studio 60 is all right, but I love the idea of it, I'm a long time SNL fan and all. I'm reserving further judgment until I get a few more episodes in (They're stacked up in my DVR). I haven't seen 30 Rock yet, but I don't think it'll be so good. Here's hoping, though, what with Rachel Dratch and Tina Fey.

Dexter is just fantastic. Dexter is so damn creepy to look at...how did you Six Feet Under fans do it for so many years? He just looks like a serial killer. Damn.

ANd then there's Wonderfalls. Not a new show but I just discovered it on Logo (why Logo, by the way? Is it the lesbian sister?). I remember reading all the hype back in the day but now I see why. I try to avoid quirky because it just doesn't work(y) sometimes.

I may have commented on this in the past and will definitely comment on this again in the future, but what is it about rockabilly girls? They are always, always so pretty with amazing, clear, porcelain complexions. Their makeup is flawless, their hair is styled beautifully AND healthy looking, and they always look so well put together. I love the aesthetic and would totally do it if I had the complexion. I love the clothes, the hair, and even the music is extremely catchy.

Detailed recaps of dreams are boring. But essentially I dreamed that while walking denny he ran out in front of a car and was killed instantly. And then I went to the worst thanksgiving dinner.

And in waking life denny woke me up at 6:30 and 8 with diarrhea and vomiting. Good times

I have a weird story from last weds, but not sure I want to share it.

Today the new employee fitness center opened. It is lovely, but I'm so not in the mood. My job was to show people the balcony. A balcony on a sunny day in the high eighties without a bit of shade. Well, there was a tiny bit of shade but getting in it would've involved me crouching down in an uncomfortable position. I did this for about an hour and a half. Good times, right?

On top of this I gave up sugar for the day. It's more difficult than I thought. I'm not totally avoiding it, I did eat some fresh fruit.

I've got the worst headache. Not the ultimate worst, but it's up there.

I have the worst taste in my mouth. Firstly, I chewed some apple flavored gum late in the afternoon. That was delicious while it lasted. But then I had my traditional pre-class dinner over at the on-campus bar and it involved a spinach tortilla, only it was so overpoweringly spinachy that I could taste it all night. Ugh. gross. and it's in the back of my mouth so it's impervious to any sort of cleaning or gum. I'm also eaten up by mosquitos.

Tonight we watched The Nightmare Before Christmas during class. I understand what those goth kids were on about.

Hooray!

Labels: pictures

Last year's worst song was "My Humps" by the Black Eyed Peas. Good beat, ludicrous lyrics, terrible song.

So this morning my cable box was tuned to vh1. When I finished exercising there was Fergie gyrating wildly, singing about her London Bridge. I mean Fergie the transwoman former meth addict who wet her pants on stage, not Fergie the lovely redhead Weight Watchers spokesduchess. So she's singing about being a lady but dancing like a ho while, interestingly enough, dancing like a ho. And something about how when some feller comes around her London Bridge wants to go down like...um...London. See, she's a man. A MAN!

Does anyone really like the Black Eyed Peas and/or Fergie? I know a co-worker claims to, but I just can't believe it. This music is bad. Like, BAD bad.

Why are aerobics videos so damn stupid? I suppose it's got a lame reputation, but just because it's got a lame reputation doesn't mean that it has to remain lame. ANd I know it's difficult to get the rights to certain cool songs, but still. At least try.

I should start by noting that I love step aerobics. It's a great low impact activity that you really don't grow out of. See, you can add some resistance by raising the step. You can even do the moves right on the floor.

This morning I worket out to a tape for the first time. Very first! I bought it at the thrift shop for a dollar. Nice, eh? But this tape is lame. Bad jokes, bad impersonations, but an excellent workout.

My favorite tape--and you are going to call me so lame--is Cher's step tape. It has songs I've actually heard (and not just Cher songs) and the banter isn't terribly annoying. AND it's easy to follow.

So really want to do a step tape with Prince music but no, the rights would be impossible or, at the least, impossibly expensive. So here we are. lame workouts.

my dogs hate the digeridoo. hate. as in ten minute barking sprees when I try to play it. as in need to find a dog-sitter if I want to practice. ad in I don't know which they hate more, the polaroid camera or the digeridoo.