Thursday, June 30, 2005

Lightning everywhere, but only crazies think it's bringing aliens anywhere but the movie screen

We saw War of the Worlds tonight, which was alright given the subject matter. Plus Tom Cruise is a real-life crazy person. He doesn't play one, but Tim Robbins does, and at one point in the movie I had to stop and ask myself if I could think of a more crazy pair of people to put onscreen together. And I couldn't. But, I digress.

We came out of the theater and into a huge storm. (This, THIS is why I carry a huge purse complete with sunglasses and umbrella. I'm no boy scout, but I try to be prepared.) So now I am home and it is still storming; I am watching the storm from my living room. But I kind of feel like I'm still watching the movie. (What? There's still too much lightning! Get back to the basement, Tim Robbins! Keep your Peach Schnapps and your shotgun to yourself! Actually...you can share the schnapps.)

Ok, so I am going overboard. I'm certainly not expecting aliens to come blow up my house or anything but it is a weird feeling to spend 2 hours being afraid for the people in the movie every single time there's lightning, and then there is actually real lightning. It's mostly eerie, like I'm still waiting for something to happen like I did earlier during the movie. Like when I watched Dawn of the Dead, and then went Uptown and saw mobs of (drunken) people swarming around, I was still in the "watch out for mobs, you stupid main characters" mode, so I was getting a creepy vibe as we went down the street and feeling the anxiety of something that wasn't going to happen.

So, I'm thinking this is a side-effect of investing myself so much into a movie when I watch it, which is probably not such a bad thing as far as movie enjoyment goes. But you don't have to worry. I'm certainly not camping out in the storm cellar anytime soon.

You're Very Welcome.

I know you are all jealous of my desktop post-it notes, so now you can download them. I'm even going to put the link on the sidebar over there.

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

I had the best birthday ever



The candles say "L2," which stands for L squared. For my name, how cute. By the way, that is a Boston Cream Pie, and I made it, and it was very good.

The rest of the night was good too...but I forgot my camera, so sorry about that.

Sunday, June 26, 2005

I use the word "really" a lot in this post, but it's my birthday so I'm not apologizing.

(First I should apologize to anyone who has had to listen to me go on and on about the birthday celebrating because I'm sure they are SICK of it. But I am just overly excited.)


Posted by Hello
20! Whole! Years! ago, I was celebrating my first birthday, which means that today is my 21st, which is exciting because now I can go uptown without being totally dorky and saying "oh, I'll just have a soda, thanks, and could you make sure the x's on my hands are extra permanent?" (Well I don't actually say quite that same thing but it's definitely what I feel like I'm saying as I hand them my NOT 21 UNTIL 6/27/2005 labelled driver's license.)

I have definitely been celebrating for like, the past WEEK by letting myself buy things like books and a smoothie maker (everyone who lives in his/her own house needs a smoothie maker!) with the excuse "it's my birthday present to myself." It will probably continue for the next week, but you only have a birthday once a year. I like to enjoy it.

For example, Rachel and Sarah came down yesterday and we had lots of fun just hanging out. I miss you girls! They are the best best friends I could've asked to grow up with. Oh, and I know you aren't judging me, really. No, really, I know. Because you aren't. Right?

After Rach and Sarah left today, a bunch of us went to Applebee's for dinner. I thought it was a totally innocent dinner but then I realized that Applebee's is one of those places where they sing to you, and I begged everyone not to say anything but ha ha, NO, that's not happening. And then the server! It went like this:

Mike: hey, [pointing at me] it's her birthday.
her: Oh, it's your birthday?
me: [as I mentally strangle Mike] Yeah, but you don't have to sing to me.
her: If you put up with the embarrassment, you know, we give you a free sundae.
me: No, really, it's okay.
her: Well, I can just bring you a sundae without the singing, do you like strawberry or chocolate?
me: um, well, I guess strawberry then. But really, you don't have to sing.
her: Alright, I'll be right back with your sundae.

Yeah, she'll be right back with the stupid sundae AND ALSO about ten of her little Applebee's cronies to sing. And you just know they hate working there when people have birthdays. I know I'd hate it. They were totally not into singing, but can you blame them? They sang about 20 times in the first half hour we were there. And although everyone swore they didn't say anything to the server, I froze everytime I heard the clapping start. Little did I know they'd just tell her RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME.

So, that was my last day of being 20, and I hope my first day of being 21 is just as...entertaining.

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

I finished this post and realized it sounds sort of like a Fark.com knockoff, but that's just a coincidence and I actually don't really like Florida.

What I watched last night while I did my knitting:
AFI's Top 100 Movie Quotes

Hey, look, more proof that Kansas is the worst state ever (followed closely by Indiana and Florida).
First U.S. West Nile case of 2005 in Kansas

I was pretty impressed by this website Loudonville put together. It made me a little homesick. Just a little, though.

There is a town in Washington state called (I can't even believe this) GEORGE. Don't believe me? Look. It's on MapQuest.

I've been watching a lot of tv at night before I go to bed, and Kept is the most guilty of all pleasures I get from watching. It's like a train wreck. I just can't stop.

And to even out the tv smut, here's the list of books I'm going to try (again) to read. I've got 11 done so far, but that's taken almost 21 years so I'm not holding my breath and you shouldn't either.

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

So OBVIOUSLY I didn't like my picture.

I went to get my driver's license renewed today. When Cassie lost hers in a few months ago I went with her to get a replacement, and I could've sworn they let her look at the picture before they slapped it on her card. (Didn't they Cassie? Or am I making things up?) Anyway, they didn't let me see it, and I even asked if it was okay.

Now herein lies the moral duty of the Bureau of Motor Vehicles workers. Because the fate of your photo lies in their hands. And, more importantly, they have the ability to erase a bad picture without anyone else ever seeing it. They could just lie and say, "looks like you blinked, let's do that again" or "wait, you need to fix your hair real quick." And think of the moments of embarrassment that could be saved, because no one with a bad picture likes to whip out the license. Even if they are 21 and it's no longer going to warrant big black permanent marker x's.

So, I'm asking nicely BMV girls. Think about your customers, and give them a break when you take their pictures. You can make the world a better place.

Sunday, June 19, 2005

Wondering

how Christina could leave me (among many other things) a teddy bear, a pair of slippers, wood glue, every single architecture book she owns, a laminating machine, an entire bed set (pillows, blankets, the works), and two alarm clocks but NOT the huge stash of Tylenol PM? WHAT KIND OF FRIEND ARE YOU, HUH???

love you, daddy

happy father's day

Saturday, June 18, 2005

Next I'm going to write about buying orthopedic shoes and bifocals

I feel like, given the available time I have, I should be able to update everyday. However, the paradox of blogging is that whenever your life is full of share-worthy events, it is too full to find time to write, and whenever you have time to write, it is because nothing worth sharing is happening. Case in point:

I started knitting on Christmas, made a sloppy 3-inch-long scarf, tore it off the needles and decided to start over. That was in March. I went to buy new yarn on Wednesday. While I was in the yarn aisle, I also saw this pillow case set that you embroider, so I bought that too. So I've been pretending I am 80 years old, what with the partying, "strenuous activity," and energy being OUT and fatigue and total boring empty Oxford being totally IN. One more week and I won't be living in fear of bursting my spleen. But I'm not exactly sure that's going to help with the subject matter. Or, you know, lack thereof.

Thursday, June 16, 2005

"I don't know about you, but I can't wait to see this without the windshield wiper effect"

We've been going to the movies a lot this summer and we were really excited to see Batman Begins. By we I mean all the boys who read comics or watched the cartoon when they were younger and myself who is in love with Christian Bale. Brendan and I thought it would be fun to do something different this time so he suggested going to see it at the IMAX theater, but that was a little expensive so we opted for the drive-in about 15 minutes away from Oxford.

When we got there it was nice out even though it had been raining a little before we left. We spread out a blanket and hung out for a while until the retro rules clips and concession stand ads ended (they showed no previews! can you believe it? i love watching previews!) and finally the movie started.

And I figured out why I have to see movies in theaters: because if there is anything else going on, I get distracted. I was doing everything but watching the movie last night. Partly because the ground was sort of uncomfortable, partly because it suddenly got freezing and windy. I opted to sit in the car after about an hour. Brendan joined me about 20 minutes later, and about 15 minutes after that it started to rain. That was sort of, oh, I don't know, ABSOLUTELY ANNOYING. So we're freezing, and the windshield wipers were going, and it was maybe not the best drive-in experience ever. I'm glad we went even if we didn't have the best conditions.

Granted, the last time I went to see a drive-in movie I was sunburnt all over and fell asleep on my sister's candy bar, so maybe this was an upgrade.

Monday, June 13, 2005

Happy birthday to me

This is what my parents just bought for me at the bookstore:


I am excited. I can't wait to go home and play with it.

I Love the Summer

because things like "paint my nails," "read a book," and "visit [insert fun place here]" find their way onto my To Do list.

Sunday, June 12, 2005

Wondering

Why the tv thinks it is a good idea to interrupt programming (and not commercials) for bad weather in one county in Indiana; specifically, programming that I have been waiting all day to see.

Furthermore, I don't really even like Indiana anyway. Get with the Daylight Savings Time program, people. Nevermind. I'm not going to get into it.

Computer-Generated Art



This is a pretty cool site...you put in a URL and it makes a picture. I have no idea how it works but I think that the more elaborate the site is, the more elaborate the plant will be.
Posted by Hello Go to Organic HTML

Friday, June 10, 2005

What I'm reading, and also a whole bunch of digressing about Oprah's Book Club

The summer between my sophomore and junior years of high school I found a list of the 100 best American fiction novels, and I had read probably 10 already, so I decided to try and work my way down the list. I think I got through three or something. (I mean seriously, the Grapes of Wrath? For leisure reading? I'm sorry, Ma Joad, your plight is not what I would call entertaining.) For some reason I also thought that summer would be a good time to start reading Oprah's Book Club books on the side of this big book endeavor, but I couldn't find one I liked, so I kept going back trying desperately to figure out why I didn't like the books the rest of America was gushing over. (Ironically, the ONLY book I have EVER enjoyed with an Oprah sticker on it was Jonathan Franzen's The Corrections, and he pulled his book from the club even though they'd gone ahead and printed it with Oprah emblems on the jackets. So it wasn't even a real Oprah book. And I didn't read it until college.) So I got sidetracked and it was basically a big old waste of a pile of summer reading.

Anyway, every summer I start going to the library and feeling guilty because I'm grabbing books like The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood and other less-than-classic novels, and not even attempting to finish that list. Last summer and the summer before, having mysteriously accumulated a big debt to the good old Loudonville Public Library the spring of my Senior year, I was forced to either re-read my old favorites or pick through my mom's collection. Which was alright. But I still wasn't scratching those 100 off the list.

So this summer I decided that I would read one classic for every "fun" book I read. I started with Main Street by Sinclair Lewis because I vaguely remembered that being on the list. I am on page 140, and I've had it for a month. A MONTH. And while I was home last weekend, I stole my brother's copy of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (Oh, I know, I am totally busted, because you definitely had it sitting out in a "I'll read this as soon as I get a chance" place, and I took it anyway. So. Um. Sorry.) and I read the entire thing last night. And you know what else? It is a double edition with the sequel, and I read that too. A whole two children's books in like, two and a half hours.

And I'm thinking it's going to take me until I'm 50 to get through that list. Which is annoying.

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Guilty Pleasure

I absolutely LOVE those Walgreen's commercials. You know, the ones with the picture-perfect scenarios and Tim Burton-esque music. Usually I will stop whatever I'm doing to watch one. Even if I've already seen it.

Who came up with this marketing strategy? I want them on my team when I have something to advertise.

well hey, i've had nothing good to post for a while, so i thought, why not this?

I stopped to get gas downtown the other night after my brother's graduation party, and as I got out of the car I was hit with the one smell that means summer in Loudonville, campfire smoke. I know I've written about this smell being summer's tell-tale sign in Ohio's canoeing capital, and I also know I've mentioned the connection between scent and memory. So I'm not going to go into that right now.

But as I thought of that smell and what the coming of summer means to me, I found myself thinking that this time of year is not one of my favorites by any means. I'm sure at one point in time there was no better period of two or three weeks: the last few days of school are always enjoyable, the beginning of summer is always the most rewarding and refreshing part, and by the end of May the anticipation of my birthday is in full-gear. But after I graduated from high school two years ago (two years ago today, actually), I have looked at the beginning of summer as a sort of time to just get through, not necessarily enjoy.

I'm not even sure where to start, but I know that if I can just get this story off my chest I will feel much better about it. As a senior, I got out of school three days before everyone else. And my mom told me to go visit my grandma and make sure she was ok, because she had seemed tired the day before. But I didn't. I slept in, took lunch to my then-boyfriend at school, visited with friends there for awhile, and then left to go to an out-of-town graduation party. I could have made time, but I didn't. And that night my grandma had a stroke, and two days later, before I could even go see her at the hospital, she died. It was the day before my graduation.

I don't recall the rest of that weekend very well. I remember that I did not cry while I gave my valedictorian speech and I remember that my extended family was there to see me give it in my high school's tiny, crowded gym. I remember leaving almost immediately after the ceremony and going home, and I remember feeling guilty for the few moments I celebrated at my party as I watched my family sit together and mourn my grandmother. I remember finding the e-mail she'd sent my mom a few days before in which she'd told my mom she'd make me a Boston Cream Pie because it was always my favorite. I vaguely remember sitting through calling hours and the funeral. I do remember crying.

I also remember the rather painful break-up that came several weeks later, after I came back from a trip to Florida and he finished Boys State and basketball camp. These three losses--my high school identity, my grandma, and my first love--are all meshed together into a sort of one big loss, because I lost them all at the same time. There was no easing into a change of lifestyle for me; I was thrown in and forced to handle it myself. It was even hard to turn to my parents and siblings, because they were all still dealing with the loss of the woman who had centered my mom's side of the family.

So here I am today. I'm sure I've made bad decisions in the way I handled it all, and I'm certain I never even handled some of it. I think that's why I hate coming home so much: because there, I can't avoid what was so easy to avoid when I left for Miami in the fall of 2003. What is still easy to avoid as a college student in a college town, as opposed to an LHS alumni in her hometown. I find that there are places I'd rather not visit, people I'd rather not talk to, and things I'd rather not take part in. All because they are such blatant reminders of that great loss I faced as I left high school.

I don't know if that's normal. I don't think it is and I have to admit, I pretty much hate myself for being so sensitive and melodramatic about the whole ordeal. I apologize if you were on the receiving end of one of my freak-outs about any one of these situations, because I think the magnitude of all three together was sometimes taken on by one individually, because of the sub-conscious link they share.

So that, for me, is the beginning of summer. It's always a part I'm glad to have over, because it gives way to memories like sunscreen, flip-flops, chlorine, and movie theaters. And those are some of my most cherished memories from any season or year. I'm sure at some point, I'll be able to come home and enjoy the not-too-hot-yet afternoons and be contented by the 21-odd days between now and my birthday. But you know, I'm just not ready yet. And you'll have to forgive me, because I'm doing the best I can.

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

"We're sitting back by the bathrooms so they don't hear you making jokes."

Over Memorial Day weekend, my friend Tom and I went to Amish Door Express in Wooster. This restaurant is Amish-style fast food, which means you order things like mashed potatoes, noodles, and baked chicken. I'm not sure any of this does justice to the absolute oxymoron this place was. Or maybe just an exploitation of their culture.

My favorite thing about it is that it has a drive-thru, which I refer to as the trot-thru. Oh, that kills me every single time.

And it doesn't matter what I say about it, because Amish people don't have computers, and they can't read this.

Monday, June 06, 2005

My advice

If you are going to an hour-long, outdoor graduation ceremony, and you no longer spend everyday outside, you should wear evenly distributed sunscreen all over every part of your exposed skin. Even if you are not facing the sun. Also heed the evenly distributed warning.

Otherwise you will look like me.